#and ok even if i didn't ask for it i guess that counts as constructive criticism so i get where they were coming from

[troubadour-malin]

vent in the tags!

[gogobootz1]

Creepy Crawlies

Spider-man x reader

Summary: You never expected your museum internship to be reminiscent of the Night at the Museum movies, but life comes at you fast. As it turns out, so do giant spiders.

word count: 2k

“And as we round the corner, you’ll enter our history wing,” you said, doing your best to not sound entirely monotone. You knew you weren’t succeeding. Despite your best efforts, your heart just wasn’t in it. Yesterday morning, you'd been dumped.

You hadn't even been seeing the cute guy from your photography course for two weeks. You'd been on two dates with him (both of which he'd been late for) before he decided it just wasn't working out.

Well, that was fine by you. It was his loss. Really. You weren't even upset. You had hardly cried yesterday, and you didn't even eat all your ice cream. Did you spend your entire day off hiding under blankets and watching tv? Maybe, but you came to your paid internship today, despite the heavy rain, and that was what mattered.

A shout of your name interrupted the half-hearted tour you'd been giving. You wheeled around to find your boss looking at you expectantly.

"Did you forget?" He asked.

You stared at him blankly, "Forget what?"

"Addie?"

Recently the museum curator's ten-year-old daughter had taken a liking to you. Apparently, Addie's nanny had gone home to France for a month, so her mother was using the museum she ran as free childcare. The girl had taken turns with all the museum staff but decided you were the best. Thus, your superiors stuck her with you. You were reluctant at first, but Addie was good company, so you didn't really mind. Plus her mom said she'd give you a bonus at the end of your summer internship.

"Oh no," you said, eyes wide.

Your boss nodded at you, "Go, I'll take your tour." Before he was even done talking, you were jogging towards the new arachnid exhibit.

"You're late," the pig-tailed girl said. She sat on the floor outside the blocked-off entryway. Officially, the exhibit wasn't opening for another week, but Addie demanded early entry. She said that she would judge the presentation you prepared for the hall, and give you pointers on how to make it even better.

"I'm sorry," you replied, ducking under the caution tape to pull back the tarp. "I lost track of time."

The girl ducked under your arm and into the exhibit. You followed close behind, not eager to lose sight of her in an area still under construction.

"I've been told that most of the work in here is done," you started, "but it's important to keep away from anything they're still putting together." Addie did not seem impressed by your warning and began wandering toward the crowning jewel of the space.

"Woah," she said in awe, staring up at the twenty-foot spider resting on its even larger faux web. It was certainly a feat of engineering. "How'd they build that thing?"

"I think some Hollywood special effects guy helped," Addie shrugged.

"Well, it sure is freaky," you said. Creepy crawlies had never been your thing.

"No!" Addie was quick to scold you, "It's amazing!"

"Ok, I guess it's kinda cool," you conceded, "but it looks like it'll come to life and eat us."

"That's the point! My mom says it's a detailed replica of a Black Widow Spider, meant to give people a better look and dispel their fears," Addie nodded confidently.

You eyed the thing skeptically, "I think I'll have to overcome my own fears before I can help people dispel theirs." Addie rolled her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist, dragging you away from the giant spider.

"Come on, let's look around while I tell you why spiders are cool and not scary. You should add all this to your tour material, by the way," she told you seriously.

Marching you past areas on jumping spiders, giant spiders, foreign spiders, and local spiders, Addie seemed determined to change your mind about the creatures.

"Ok, they might be important, but I still think they're icky," you shrugged at her. She made a face at you and dragged you on for another few steps before you stopped. Looking at the display you tried not to shiver.

"Come on, there are more spiders to see," she demanded.

"You know, I think you're on to something," you told her. She turned to you, confused. "Spiders really aren't the worst," you barreled on, "ticks are." You gestured toward the tick display.

"Eugh," Addie said, disgusted.

"I didn't even know those were arachnids," you admitted.

"Those are worse than scorpions," she nodded along. "I don't think I've seen the scorpion section yet," she scanned around for it.

"It's over there," you gestured, "they need to glue the tip of his tail on to make him scary. Can't make him worse than our spider friend, though," you nodded towards the giant display.

Suddenly, Addie looked afraid, "you might be right."

"Are all the spider pictures finally getting to you? I've been itchy for the last ten minutes. I feel like I need to wash my hair," you shivered, unaware of the larger issue.

"Your hair's fine," Addie said, staring over your shoulder, "but we might not be."

You were taken aback by her words, "What?" Your voice gave out when you saw the twenty-foot spider crawling down off its web and towards you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched in crawl closer. "Run," you whispered. The ten-year-old didn't need to be told twice. She bolted out of the room and started screaming. It took you another few seconds to listen to your own advice and start after her.

"RUN," you screamed, hoping the closest visitors would hear you and heed your warning. "GET OUT OF THE BUILDING."

The spider was light. Its footsteps sounded not much heavier than that of a few bustling museum-goers. What it lacked in weight, it made up for in speed, and it was gaining on you. When you rounded the corner into the main entrance of the museum, all hell broke loose. If Addie's screaming and your hollering hadn't scared anyone, the giant black widow spider chasing you certainly did.

People who had just walked in the doors ran back out of them. A practical mob of people pushed and shoved their way through the exit. Some people entered further into the museum, vying for back doors. You were just busy trying not to catch a stray bullet as the security guards opened fire on the creature chasing you.

The warnings you'd been yelling turned quickly into screams of terror as you faced danger on every side. Stampeding crowds trying to leave had quickly begun to trample each other. More security guards arrived to shoot at the thing behind you, and you could've sworn the spider herself had just dripped venom onto you.

But how could a museum display spider have venom? And, more importantly, how could it come alive?

You didn't have time to ponder these questions as you were swiftly removed from the situation. Suddenly you found yourself standing on the second floor, looking out over the chaos.

"Addie said you might need a save."

You turned to see Spider-man standing behind you. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing the little girl was safe.

"Great timing," you said. It was all you could manage after the biggest shock of your life.

"Are you alright?" The masked man asked, seemingly concerned.

"I think it spat on me, but I really don't know how it did that because it shouldn't have organs," you said, perplexed.

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, no, this thing is a display piece," you tried to explain.

"I guess all press is good press," he shrugged. "How much did this cost?" The hero seemed surprised.

"It didn't use to be alive," you told him gravely, eyes wide.

"Got it, that makes more sense," he nodded.

"Does it?" You asked, thoroughly upset by the events of the day.

"You know what? Maybe not," Spider-man replied, turning to look at the scene unfolding. You followed his gaze to see the bottom half of a security guard hanging out of the spider's mouth. "Oh, wow, is that my cue," he said, jumping onto the railing. "Stay safe!" He pointed at you as he fell backward off the second floor.

You raced to the edge to see the masked hero catch himself with a web before landing on the spider's back. He squeezed the thing by its throat, trying to get it to spit out the security guard.

"Security guards are not a snack!" Spider-man said as he wrestled with it. "Don't make me do the Heimlich on you!"

Finally, the spider regurgitated the security guard to focus on the nuisance on her back. "Cool- it worked! Maybe that was the Heimlich."

Spider-man launched a web to the ceiling and swung off the giant spider's back. Dropping closer to the ground, he started webbing the thing's legs together. Eventually, the thing lost its balance and fell to the marble floor with a resounding thud.

"I guess I can add exterminator to my resume," the masked man said, standing over the felled spider.

He gave the thing's head a firm kick, accidentally separating it from its body. "Oh shit," he said, pulling the severed head back to him with a web.

Looking at the gaping hole its head left, the spider was obviously animatronic. You'd have to have a serious talk with Addie's mom about doing background checks before hiring people. You let out a huff.

Clearly, Spider-man's senses were more keen than you realized. He looked up to find you still standing by the railing. Using a web, he launched himself up to stand next to you.

"So, a spider just saved you from a spider," he started, "pretty meta, huh?" You gave him a courteous nod, not feeling up to joking as you looked down at the robot spider carcass.

Spider-man grabbed your shoulder, lightly turning you away from the sight. "Are you sure you're alright, miss?"

"Not quite," you shook your head.

"You weren't hurt, were you?" He took a hurried step toward you, looking you over.

"Yesterday, I was dumped. Today I got chased by a giant man-eating spider. Does it ever get better?" You asked, tears welling in your eyes.

Spider-man couldn't help but let out a little snort. Your eyes widened at his reaction. You scoffed and slapped his chest.

"Are you laughing at me?" You asked wetly.

He put his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, I'm sorry, really." You shook your head at him.

"No, you're not! This is just like the time a raccoon got in my basement," you complained, tears streaming down your face.

Spider-man had to hide his continued laughter.

"No one believed me! I had to shoo it out with a broom all by myself," you said tearily, glaring at him. The masked man was practically bent over, trying to hold his laughter. Unfortunately for you, his laughter was highly contagious. It wasn't long before you were chuckling a bit too.

He pulled himself together, "This was much worse than a raccoon. You have every right to be upset."

"Thanks," you nodded, wiping your face.

"Want me to swing you home?" He asked.

As tempting as it sounded, you weren't sure about the state of the museum. Or your job. "They're usually pretty strict about hours here."

Although you couldn't see his face, you knew Spider-man was giving you a look. "I think it's safe to say the museum is closed for the day."

"Still-"

"What would you even do? Flush the bug down the toilet?"

"That's what I do at home," you shrugged.

He shook his head at you good-naturedly, "Come on, we can stop for muffins on the way." That got you up.

Spider-man spent the following hour making you feel better post-animatronic spider attack. When he finally left you on the stoop of your apartment building, you realized you'd answered your own question. It did get better.

Too bad your stupid, loser ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker, wasn't around to see it.

[missredherring]

Let's Twist The Knife Again

Parings: Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Rating: R

Warnings: canon typical violence, character death on and off screen, angst.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I just really love time travel, you guys. This could be continued if there's interest. Thank you @agentofloveandcourage for beta reading for me. Any mistakes are mine. @boliv-jenta

Dialogue taken from S1E1 of TLOU.

Summary: When he feels the hard hit to his head, Joel hopes he doesn't wake up. But he does.

The only reason he doesn't kill the nurses is because they pulled a sheet up over her body. The surgeon is dead on the floor, the pool of blood haloing around his head a match for the one spreading on the sheet. He doesn't look at the tray on the table where a third pool of blood is forming. The rifle is heavy in his hands, so he lets it drop to the floor. He has nothing left to protect.

"Where's the lab?" He asks. The nurses don't answer. Maybe he hadn't said it clearly enough. All he can hear is the ringing in his ears; between working construction and the gunshot it's constant, but right now the sound is swallowing up everything else. "The lab. Where's THE LAB?"

"T-The next room over!" One of them pipes up and he's off. His anger and guilt have him moving quickly when he pushes the door open, but what he sees stops all of his movement.

It looks like something out of a high school chemistry lab. Even to his untrained eyes he understands it isn't enough.

Without much effort he tips the fridge over and when a puff of cool air reaches him he chokes on a scoff. This is what they'd cobbled together after twenty years of raiding and neglect, and they expected to create a vaccine when the fridge they were going to use to keep her brain -the only specimen they had- was barely colder than the rest of the room. He starts on the beakers and containers set out just so on the table. Glass shatters and liquid splashes everywhere. Blood, sweat, and tears mix with whatever was inside. The fumes are in his eyes, his nose, at the back of his throat.

He feels the rumble of running feet coming down the hallway and turns towards the door. He tries to take a deep breath to brace himself but ends up coughing instead. The ringing continues in his ears, his heart is almost beating out of his chest, and his fingers are trembling. They're going to take him out, but he's going to take them down with him.

When he feels the hard hit to his head, Joel hopes he doesn't wake up.

But he does.

***

"You mumble in your sleep."

Ellie's voice is distant. He can barely hear it over the ringing, even with her on his good side.

While he's straining to hear and trying to make sense of things, his autonomous body functions continue. A deep inhale makes him aware of how uncomfortable he is. Can the dead be uncomfortable?

He never put much stock into religion, but didn't they say that some version of the afterlife is being with your loved ones? Did he miss Sarah's wake up call? He'd never slept through one before.

There's an ache in his shoulder, his knees are stiff from being in the same position for too long, and all at once he remembers how busted that old couch back in the Boston QZ apartment was. They'd only taken it because it had all its cushions and the frame was solid.

Joel opens his eyes and takes in the dirty ceiling and peeling wallpaper. He slowly sits up and rubs at his shoulder. It's the QZ apartment he'd shared with Tess, down to the mildew smell they'd never been able to air out. He touches the back of his head, expecting to find blood, but all he feels is dirty hair. There's not even a goose egg.

"I've never been on the other side of the wall. Look how dark it is." Ellie continues in a low tone. She hasn't taken her eyes off the world outside. She doesn't see him staring at her, taking in her features.

"You guys go out there a lot?"

"I guess."

"When was the last time?"

"Maybe a year. What's it matter?"

"But you know where to go. So we're going to be ok."

His mouth moves before he can stop it, having the same conversation. She's looking at him now, using bravado to cover up the fear and uncertainty. The first time she'd asked him these questions he'd thought she was just being a brat, questioning his suitability. Her tricking the last part of the radio code out of him in the next breath hadn't helped the impression.

Looking at her now, her eyes large and dark in her still-round face, he confirms what had only been a hunch at the time: she was looking to him for reassurance. Marlene had entrusted her to them, said that they'd be the ones to do it, to get her to the Fireflies out west. He sees her lips twitch, a crack in her mask, and all he can say is, "Yeah."

Why is he going over this again? Is it some kind of purgatory where he relives all the sins of his life? Why start here and not with Sarah, or even before then? There's plenty to choose from.

Ellie follows the script, and while he could just tell her what the '80s music means, he wants to see her smug grin when she's being clever. It's been a while since he's seen it. He thought he'd never see it again.

Long neglected emotions roil in his chest and he takes a deep breath in.

"Listen-"

The door opens and Tess comes in, taking them in with a glance.

Tess. Seeing her again, face bruised and beautiful, is a punch to the gut that forces him to exhale whatever air he'd just taken in.

Her mouth is in a firm line and Joel can tell she's focused on the trip ahead of them.

"The spot under Lancaster looks good. You got a jacket in your pack?" She asks Ellie.

"Yeah."

"Ok. Get it. It's time to go."

He's next to her in two steps and for once he's glad of the apartment's small size. He takes his jacket from Tess, tosses it on the table, and kisses her.

She goes still, her own jacket hanging between them, as he cups the back of her neck to deepen the kiss.

"Gross." Ellie says from behind them and it's enough to bring him back to himself, to take just one step away from her. It's a kiss he should've given her last time, at least once.

Tess is eyeing him. He's forgotten how comfortable he'd been in following her lead, even in the bedroom. She'd tell him what to do and he'd do it. Him taking the initiative is odd. But if he's going to relive his sins, he's going to try to make up for what he could.

With just him and Ellie in the room it was easy to think this stroll down memory lane would be focused solely on her and just how badly he'd failed her. Tess's involvement suggests something else, but he doesn't know what.

Maybe he's bleeding out on the hospital floor and these memories are the last synapses going off in his brain. People say they see their lives flash before their eyes when they died, didn't they?

He allows himself one more press of his lips to hers before pulling on his jacket and swinging his pack onto his back. He feels Tess watching him, but she only nods in response when he says, "Let's go."

He doesn't bother locking the door behind them when they leave. He knows they'll never be coming back.

***

They move quickly and quietly. Joel bites back a smile when Tess has to yank Ellie down so she isn't caught in the spotlight. She's too busy staring at everything she sees to be smart about her surroundings.

The first time they'd left the QZ he hadn't remembered Lee's warning about the doubled patrols and staying in at night for a few days. It might've been a good idea to wait this time. But whether they waited or not, they needed to leave the QZ. They couldn't do anything within its walls one way or another.

This time he's more aware of the ache that's missing from his hand. The one he'd broken on Lee's face that night in the rain.

He knows what he's looking for this time and motions for Tess and Ellie to stay back and wait.

The rain and thunder hide the sounds of his approach as he comes up behind Lee. One large hand covers his mouth and the other takes hold of the back of his head. Lee inhales once, but doesn't make any sounds before Joel snaps his neck in one smooth motion.

Ellie looks at the body with fascination while Tess checks on the opening in the fence. He takes the rifle, and without the situation making him remember the last time he'd held Sarah in his arms or Tess yelling for him about Ellie's infected status, he takes the time to pat down the body for extra ammunition.

Joel doesn't think about what he did as they leave the QZ.

He doesn't feel any remorse in killing a man with his dick out. They might've been able to sneak by, but if they'd been seen it would've turned out the same as the first time. Lee had died that time, and he'd died this time. Dead is dead, even if it hasn't been applied to Joel yet. Maybe he's just walking towards his death again, and that's when it'll stick. Or would a third time be the charm?

Changing their encounter with Lee gives him some hope. Could he change other things? If they got there soon enough, could he help Bill and Frank? He tries to wrack his brain to figure out a timeline for them, but the details are vague. He had stopped paying attention to time after the outbreak. There was no guarantee of a future, and there was no use looking at the past. All that had mattered was the present.

Ellie stumbles over some rubble in to dark, swiping wet hair out of her eyes as she rights herself. Joel reaches out and tugs the hood of her jacket up over her head. She flinches away from his touch and he isn't ready for the sting of hurt he feels. He reminds himself that he hasn't earned her trust yet. Right now she's more likely to bite his hand than say thank you.

Tess bumps into his shoulder and they share a look. With Ellie between them, they continue walking further into the rotten corpse of Boston.

[merri-angry]

If Fire were to Change its Course

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Constructive criticism encouraged^^

Multifandom Warriors AU, main cats from LOTF but mentioned cats from other fandoms/OCs

Also not going to lie I didn't know what else to name this, so sorry if the title doesn't fit.

TW: talks about battle and death(not in detail)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Dang, sucks that you have to help the medicine cats," a dark ginger apprentice meowed as he entered the apprentice's den, even though helping the medicine cats would not suck.

"What are you talking about, Jackpaw?" The dark brown tabby confusingly looked at his denmate, before letting out a loud yawn.

"You were asleep when Schlattstar announced it, Mauricepaw," a sandy cat walked in, who made Mauricepaw jump. "What were you thinking? Letting an Iceclan cat take prey from our territory?"

"Ralphpaw, the prey came from their side of the territory!" Mauricepaw got up and shook loose moss from his coat.

"But then it entered our territory, making it our prey," Jackpaw commented. "Anyways, better hurry before your mentor gets mad."

"Jaypounce isn't that mean, if he was he would have convinced Schlattstar to make Mauricepaw do something worse than gathering herbs," Ralphpaw meowed as Mauricepaw left the den.

In the clearing, it was as if a battle hadn't happened two days ago. As if Ralphpaw hadn't just...

"You ok?" Mauricepaw looked to see a black cat with green eyes. On its head, was a stray marigold.

"Yep!" Mauricepaw cheerfully smiled. "Not going to lie, I've been still thinking about the battle."

"Do you have any wounds that are still bothering you?" The cat asked. Mauricepaw shook his head. "Well, Haloheart said that I should know enough that we can go out on our own to find herbs."

"Ooo, do you think how well we do is going to be an assessment for you?" Mauricepaw asked as the two started heading out of camp.

"I guess? Medicine cats don't really have assessments- unless treating patients counts," the cat said, before suddenly noticing the marigold on their head and shaking it off.

"Mkkk, oh- Simonpaw- what's this?" Mauricepaw noticed a familiar-looking herb, with green stalks.

"Thyme, useful to calm shock," It answered. "Also one of the herbs that we are low on, the old ones got stale."

Mauricepaw nodded before starting to pluck stalks. As he did that, he noticed Simonpaw shifting nervously.

"Do you think there will be a day when everything in Fireclan changes?" Simonpaw nervously asked. Mauricepaw paused what he was doing to look at him.

"Of course there will, not everyone will be able to tolerate the way our current leader leads- one day a battle will go too far and a warrior will stand up to him."

"How can we be sure cats won't keep leaving?" Simonpaw's question caused Mauricepaw to freeze for a second. "Quackfeather left after Schlattstar killed Slimespot, Jackpaw's parents left without notice..."

"I'm sure there are cats who really care about Fireclan, who won't let it burn to the ground," Mauricepaw wasn't sure if the words he was speaking were for Simonpaw or himself. "One day Fireclan will become better. No more wars for nothing, no more plannings to drive Iceclan out, it will be just like any other normal clan."

"But I had a dream," Simonpaw admitted. "There was a lot of fighting... It seemed as if the clan was split into two sides! Each being led by on cat..."

"Maybe it was a prophecy about two specific cats fighting," Mauricepaw meowed.

"... Maybe," Simonpaw frowned, obviously not agreeing with Mauricepaw.

"Honestly, do you think any cat would have the power to split up our clan?" Mauricepaw meowed before jokingly saying. "Well, maybe Ralphpaw and Jackpaw by the way the two of them fight. They always somehow get me, Rogerpaw, or Hollypaw involved..."

Simonpaw stayed silent for a few moments before smiling, "thanks for listening and stuff, I feel a lot better now that I've at least talked about my dream."

Mauricepaw grinned, "no problem! Always feel free to talk to me, especially since I know you'd let me talk to you."

Simonpaw muttered something Mauricepaw couldn't hear before meowing, "just to let you know, tomorrow I will be joining you guys with battle training."

"Battle training?" Mauricepaw echoed.

"Yeah, medicine cats also need to know how to defend themselves- you mouse brain," Simonpaw joked lightly.

"Ohhhh, true," Mauricepaw's response made Simonpaw purr with amusement.

"Let's get back to collecting herbs," Simonpaw suggested.

[bangct]

A bit jealous?

Pairing: Ot7 x FEM reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst, slight nsfw

Warning: y/s is a crybaby, she's jealous and it shows, Yoongi is sorry but won't have it, aside from that, this is fluffy comfort and words of love. Choking, just a little bit, suggestive thoughts and that's it i think.

Summ: Being in a secret relationship with "the" band of the moment was by far an odyssey, it was not a secret how jealous you could get sometimes, and they would do things on purpose to make you mad, even when you tried not to show it, however not feeling quite good that specific day had an effect on you, and seeing you boyfriends have a little too much fun with 'that' girl made you lose it.

Word count : 13k(msorry)

Date: April, 19 2022

a/n: Right, I'm posting this as a first story, i had this in my drafts for so long I just needed to throw it out. I don't remember the time i wrote so it might not be that good, but i don't wanna loose it so il leave it here. i usually post nsfw but i wanted to start soft and I'll eventually show the dark side of this lol. I appreciate a good feedback, so do not hesitate, also be constructive not destructive.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The headache I had was becoming unbearable, I had been assigned to cover for a stylist who had called in sick, and of course, the staff was not going to risk the  members by keeping a sick hairstylist. It was these moments that reminded me why I only worked in the music area and not as a stylist or makeup artist, of course I was capable to do it, but my patience was not so much under pressure, so once we had finished, I didn't hesitate to throw myself on the couch in the dressing room, my head was throbbing and my mood was going downhill. Several minutes had already passed and on the monitoring screen I could see how the guys were having fun and laughing in that interview. I got distracted for a moment and when I turned to see the screen again, I saw the girl who had been causing so much controversy but so much joy for the BTS fans, Halsey.

So, great, Halsey was there, as a surprise I guess, I couldn't hold back the smile that adorned my lips, I liked seeing them like that, genuinely happy, and Halsey was a good person, at least as far as I had known her, I was never a big fan of her music, but she seemed to get along with them, so it was all good. 

The minutes passed and I was starting to get irritated with the way they were looking at her, although I wasn't going to deny my jealousy, I've always tried to stay out of it and not get carried away with my thoughts, however, the headache and my mood seemed to say otherwise and my annoyance only increased. My eyes wouldn't leave Jimin, who seemed quite comfortable being almost on top of her. 

Can't they give her her own microphone? 

Ugh, I wanted to stop watching them, it was starting to annoy me too much, I tried to calm down but couldn't, their bracelets, their matching outfits, ah, and what was that? Perfect mentioned Yoongi, of course, perfect. 

I felt my blood boiling, so i decided to get up and go to the car, I knew it was the last interview of the day, so I went to manager Sejin and asked him if I could go to the car, he clearly noticed my state and as always in his concern, he asked if everything was ok. 

"I am, there is nothing to worry about, you know how much these interviews stress me out, I just need to rest." Sejin narrowed his eyes without believing much in my words but he let me go, I mentally thanked him for not asking more questions, while I was gathering my things I could hear the commotion that the guys were making as they came back, I tried to do it as fast as possible so I could escape, but it was impossible.

I watched as they entered one by one, I frowned when I noticed that Namjoon was not there, but seconds later I saw him enter the dressing room together with Halsey, wonderful, just what I needed...

She saw me and smiled broadly, something that only made me feel terrible.

"y/n!!! What a surprise, I haven't seen you in a while, I'm so glad you're here." Without thinking about it, Halsey came closer and wrapped me in a tight hug, kissed my cheek and smiled even wider than before. "I was just asking Joon about you, it's good that you are accompanying him in these things, it can get tedious and it's great to have someone to take you out of the routine even for a moment, isn't it Joonie?" 

Joonie?

The audacity of this woman, I restrained the urge to roll my eyes, and it seemed that Namjoon noticed it, since I got a glimpse of the way his frown was furrowing, I tried to put on my best smile and cleared my throat to be able to answer, at this point, the rest of the guys seemed to be very interested in what I had to say.

" Yes, it's so good seeing you too, I'm glad to hear that your collaboration is going in the best direction. I listened to it and well, you have a beautiful voice that suits it amazingly." While my words were genuine, the following was clearly a very direct dig at the seven who seemed pleased with my response. 

"I mean, the guys have already told you how perfect and wonderful you are, I guess I have nothing more to say after such praise, I don't blame them, they are absolutely right." The smile on her face told me that she definitely had no idea about the reality of things, while looking at the guys, I could tell the hint of surprise and confusion at what I had said. 

"Now, I really hate to say goodbye, but there's a car waiting for me, it was nice to see you, i hope to see you in the future, and congrats on the song. I'm sure it will go great." Without further ado, I gave her a short hug, grabbed my stuff and headed to the door. Of course the guys were even more confused, and I was more irritated than ever.

 As soon as I was home I didn't hesitate to rush to the shower, wanting to scrub the stress out of me with soap. Once ready, I changed into my most comfortable pajamas and jumped into bed. 

My head still felt like it was about to explode, and it definitely got worse when I heard the sound of the door opening. I think it was the first time in 7 years of our relationship that I hated hearing the sound of the door opening. 

I tried to pretend to fall asleep while the noise increased, a few seconds passed, and I noticed how suddenly silence was the only thing that filled the place. Just when I was about to get up, the door to my room opened, and a black-haired man peeked his head out looking for a sign to enter.

"Noona? Can I come in?" Jungkook, it was more than obvious that they would send Jungkook to check that everything was okay. 

"Yes, you can come in" my voice sounded muffled and somewhat irritated, which made jungkook frown.

I watched as he closed the door to my room and approached the bed. I looked at him from where I stood and couldn't help but sigh as I noticed the youngest of the seven, he was still in the same clothes from the interview but no makeup or shoes. He smiled at me and didn't hesitate to climb onto the bed, his hands traveled to my waist and in a second he pulled me to him, squeezing me and clinging me to his chest. I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips the moment I felt him close, my arms moved on their own and wrapped around him tightly, hugging him as if I was afraid he was going to disappear. 

"What's wrong, Noona? You left without even saying goodbye, do you feel sick? Do you need me to call the doctor?" I quickly denied all his words, instead I hugged him tightly, feeling my eyes start to sting, which only indicated one thing, crying. 

Jungkook pulled me away from him and cradled my face in his hands, concern filling his face.

"Baby, please tell me what's wrong, I hate  seeing you like this, please." His words made my heart flutter, I knew that they all worried about me, and Jungkook had always made it clear, it was endearing.

"I'm just stressed and tired, I'm exaggerating, don't mind me."  I grunted and lifted my face showing that all traces of crying were gone. He smiled, caressed my cheeks and moved closer to meet his lips with mine, I sighed and didn't hesitate to reciprocate, I loved the taste of his lips against mine, his hands traveled to my waist once again and he squeezed me gently, making me gasp slightly at the sensation.

 He pulled away as he let out a light chuckle, which made me blush in a second.

 "Cute" he murmured before leaving a small peck on my lips. "I'm sorry the hyungs made you feel bad, you know we all love you the same way and there's nothing or no one that will make us change our minds."

His words took me by surprise, making me lower my gaze for a moment in sorrow. I bit my lower lip and did not hesitate to hug him once again. I was so lost in his arms that I didn't notice the door opening once more, until I felt the bed slightly undulating next to me, clearly on the side where Jungkook was not. I pulled away from him slightly and turned my face to see Namjoon sitting there looking at me with a pout, yoongi and Jimin were also there, while hoseok, taehyung and jin were standing at the foot of the bed.

"We are truly sorry, you know we love you more than anyone else, and there is no one who can replace you." This time Jimin spoke softly, a slight pout on his lips and seemed to want to get closer, but he looked hesitant. The rest of the boys looked almost desperate, looking for an answer from me, anything to tell them that everything was okay.

I bit my lips and didn't know what to say, as I was quite embarrassed, Halsey had a boyfriend and her relationship with the boys was evidently professional and work related, of course, they were friends, but only that. I turned to Jungkook and hugged him tightly, hiding my face in his chest, which made him giggle. He didn't hesitate to put his arms around me and leave a kiss in my hair. 

"She is clearly annoyed with you, I was clearly interested in snacks, losers." Jungkook laughed and as soon as he stopped I felt a pair of hands grabbing me from behind.

A gasp escaped my lips, and when I realized, Namjoon was pulling me to him, leaving me on his lap, which only made my face turn into all shades of red. 

"Baby...Please don't be upset, I'm really sorry, you know it's all business, I never meant to make you feel bad." His words came out almost in a whisper, and of course, he was right, I was overreacting because of my annoyance and irritation.

"She called you Joonie" an unconscious pout appeared on my lips making the dimpled man laugh, and I swear I could hear the others let out slight giggles. 

"You know I'm yours, baby, only yours, no need to feel jealous." His hands traveled to my face to caress it gently. Having the rest of the guys there, made it all quite familiar, being all together in my room, me on Joon's lap, yes, it was definitely all quite familiar, although the context was quite different, if you know what I mean....

Anyway, my thoughts were starting to consume me wandering way too far from what was happening, memories of other occasions filled me and I couldn't contain myself from biting my lips. Of course Namjoon noticed. He always does, as a low chuckle came out of his mouth making me feel almost like floating, one of his hands caressed my face while the other one went down to my waist. 

"What are you thinking of, love? That mind of yours flies so fast, care to share?"

He murmured In a low tone that always made my knees weak and my head fuzzy.

"Hyung, you are making her blush too much, let us at least say something too" it was Taehyung who came closer to pull me into his arms, without waiting he started to fill my face with kisses as well as apologies for making me feel bad. 

"Jagi, you know we love you, I love you the most but that's a different conversation, please forgive us." 

Well, it was definitely a  hard image to resist, just when I was about to say something I heard several grumbles from the others, who were complaining at taehyung's words.

"Yah, you don't love her more than us, brat" said Jin, coming closer to stand near me, as well as Yoongi and Hoseok who looked amused at the situation. 

"I'm sorry I reacted like that, I was irritated and tired, but you know I didn't mean it, I love you guys it won't happen again." At this I felt how more arms tried to wrap around me without really succeeding, I noticed how Yoongi stayed behind, looking at everything with a smile. It seemed like Jungkook noticed it, so he threw a pillow at the older one while laughing.

"Yah, Hyung, aren't you going to hug her? I think she was most upset with you when she saw us in the dressing room." Said Jungkook while still laughing lightly, making Yoongi blush, something that didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room.  The aforementioned scratched the back of his neck, not really knowing what to do, Hoseok left a space next to him and pulled his hand to bring him closer to the bunch of bodies on my bed. 

"Don't be shy hyungnim, it's been almost 8 years, get over it already." With that comment, Hoseok got a kick from Yoongi and laughter from the other five in the room. Yoongi reached over and grabbed my face to close the distance and kiss my lips, which I didn't expect. Yoongi was usually reserved when it came to affection, so it was a bit of a surprise when he kissed me. His hands roamed over my waist and torso. It was looking all innocent, until his hand wrapped around my neck with some strength, my eyes went big and of course, my face turned red. He looked at me with some intensity and something else I couldn't describe, as he came closer to my face, I could hear how my other boyfriends were whispering God knows what. 

"I don't want to hear again that you are jealous, I don't want to take other actions, although I'm sure you wouldn't mind those." He smiled and oh god, it was that smile that made me turn into a quivering mess. I wanted to say something but I was way too focused on him to even do something. "I need you to understand that you are ours, and if you're ours there is no human force that will manage to make us stop loving you, so quit it, or we'll show you how it is."

A quite high moan escaped from my lips,it was now a different atmosphere, before I knew it, hands were once again trailing all over my body, they were soft but it was a matter of time for them to turn into something else.

"Please show me.."

[bingoboingobongo]

Would you write a fezco x reader fic, where she smokes with fez for the first time and she kinda panics, so he helps calms her down. Then once she calms down it ends with her and fez laughing and talking about the stupidest things.

felicity

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Fezco gets high and comes to a realization.

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), use of drugs (weed), brief mention of addiction, brief mention of rehab

A/N: hii, this was a really fun/easy request to write out as a sort of cool down from my last fic, so ty anon (even tho it took me forever to post this sorry). i'm not sure if my depiction of weed usage in this is accurate, i was mainly going off of internet, so i tried to keep it vague. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated :)

Masterlist

"Aight ma," Fezco drawled in his familiar monotone voice, "so you just roll it up like this and then light it and smoke it, got it?"

"I think so?" she replied, grabbing a small sheet of rolling paper to try and mimic Fezco.

The entire scene was adorably endearing to watch as she struggled to skillfully roll a joint, her eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip suspended between her teeth. They had known each other for a while now and since then they had only gotten closer. Contrary to her friends, she had never tried weed before, instead deciding to spend her time sober, but it was nearly the end of winter break and she didn't have anything better to do, which is why she was currently sitting on Fezco's couch.

"Oh- why is mine so ugly?" she cried, holding up her pitiful attempt at rolling a joint.

Fezco chuckled, eliciting a pout out of her, "It's fine ma, it just takes practice. Here I'll make you a better one." The entire process was like second nature to him, ingrained into his muscles through years of practice. "Here," he said, offering her the joint, "want me to light it for you?"

"Um," she hesitated, "yeah, I guess."

"Hey you don't have to do this if you don't want to," he reminded her, putting the joint down.

"No! No! I want to do it, it's just," she started, fidgeting with her hands. "You're a hundred percent sure this is safe right? Because I don't want to get addicted or anything and I read that doing drugs and alcohol at a young age can stunt your brain growth and make you more prone to addiction and I'm not ready for that kind of lifestyle," she rambled, her heart rate quickening and her breaths becoming frenzied.

"Hey, you'll be fine ma," he reassured her, gently taking her hand in his, "this stuff's pretty mild anyways, it's just meant to make you relax and calm down. I wouldn't give you nothing bad anyway. And if you do get addicted we'll get you to rehab," he joked, rubbing soft circles into her skin to help her calm down.

She took a deep breath, "Ok. Ok, let's do this, give me the joint," she said. With a nod, Fezco handed her the joint and delicately placed it in between her lips. He pulled a lighter out of his shirt pocket and beckoned for her to lean towards him so he could light hers, lighting his own afterwards.

He watched her carefully as she took an inhale of the smoke and laughed as she coughed on it.

"You good?" he asked.

"Ye- Yeah I'm good," she responded, screwing her eyes shut as she continued coughing. "When am I supposed to feel something?"

"Uh, it's different for everyone, maybe like fifteen minutes?"

"Okay, so… what do we do now?” she asked.

“Uh, whatever we want I guess.”

She hummed, “Hey you know what’s so weird?”

“What ma?”

“Apparently there’s nothing that’s naturally blue in nature. I mean think about it, blueberries are purple when you smash them and green when you peel them, and how many animals do you know that are blue?” she asked, waving her hands around enthusiastically.

Fezco thought for a moment, he didn’t spend a lot of his time outside, most of it was spent either at his house, parties, or his gas station, and when he did he wasn’t the type to spend his time cataloging colors.

“Wait… Isn’t the sky blue or have I been tripping this entire time?”

She paused, tilting her head to the side and squinting her eyes as she tried to deal with the new information.

“And butterflies,” he pointed out, “I’ve seen a few blue butterflies in documentaries and stuff, aren’t there blue flowers too?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, looking at Fezco with wide eyes, “there are blue things in nature. Have I been lied to? How could I forget about the sky? What if I am gullible?”

“Nah it’s fine,” he reassured her, “hey you wanna know something else cool?” she nodded, “the Great Wall of China has this uh, program thing where they hire cats to walk along the wall and kill mice.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyebrows upturned and her eyes wide, “that is so cute, oh my god I have to see that.”

“Yeah, apparently they put little vests on them too so people know not to mess with them, I saw it in a documentary,” he continued.

“Oh. My. God. That is so adorable, imagine visiting the Great Wall of China and seeing cats! I think I’d scoop one up and take it home with me,” she gushed, grabbing onto Fezco’s arm.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too but apparently they’re trained to always stay at the wall, so like if you try to pick it up it’ll run away. But they have little houses that you can visit as you walk.”

“Aw,” she pouted, “that’s kinda sad but I guess it makes sense, how do they train the cats anyways? I mean, I know that they have like… cat pageants, but can they really train cats to kill mice and stuff?”

“Uh- I- Yeah, I guess they can, apparently they have to go through a huge training program and when they complete they have a whole ceremony and everything.”

She gasped, “You’re lying that is- I wanna see these cats so badly, I have to look this up,” she said, pulling out her phone.

Fezco watched amused as she searched it up, only to find no relevant results, “Fezco?” she whined, “what was the name of the documentary you watched, nothing’s showing up.”

At this point, Fezco was struggling to bite back his laughter; tears were beginning to well up in his eyes and he was fighting to maintain a straight face. Despite his best efforts, the sight of her confused gaze was enough to tip him over the edge, causing him to emit a hearty chuckle.

“Oh- I- I’m sorry ma,” he giggled, trying to regain his composure. “There ain’t- there aren't any Great Wall of China cats, I was just trying to see how long you’d believe it,” he explained. She pouted, rolling her eyes and playfully slapping his arm.

“Screw you Fez,” she joked, pausing to take a deep breath. “Hey I think it’s finally hitting now. I feel… relaxed, like it feels like a wave of like — calm just washed over me, is that what it’s supposed to feel like?” she asked, taking another hit from the joint.

He nodded, “Yeah just- just enjoy it ma.” She hummed, looking ahead and taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. He watched her carefully, admiring the way that her eyelashes fluttered slightly when they closed and the way a light tendril of smoke escaped from her open lips. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but in that moment, there was something about her that just allured him.

Before then, he hadn't really thought about her in a romantic sense, granted they had known each other for a while and they quickly became close, but it wasn't until then that Fezco realized just how happy she made him.

How her texts sparked a flame of excitement in his stomach and her laughter sparked a forest fire of felicity in his soul whenever he heard that blessed sound. How every glance in his direction set him ablaze and every touch ignited an intense inferno of emotions that heated up his heart and sent his insides into hyperdrive.

In that moment, as he watched her calmly take another puff of the joint, he realized that he wasn't sure if he could live without her. She seemed so serene, so comfortable, that he wasn't sure how he could have been so blind as to not have seen it before, she was undoubtedly the one for him.

[violetlichen]

it's 5:30 AM & idk what this is

f!PC/m!Bailey - NSFW, no real tw's that i can think of because it's super vanilla

this is so out of character and i know everyone barks for asshole!Bailey but i just really love the dynamic of a scrappy, quiet PC who experiences something very dangerous and life threatening with him but she saves him (or rather they save each other) and it forms a bond between them and they have this unspoken love for each other and there's sexy but also not-so-sexy repression that they only occasionally selfishly act on but they also respect each other because bailey sees himself in PC ok i'll stop here :0

also this is my first time writing anything with even a whiff of smut so pls be kind but also i'm open to constructive criticism! thank u pls enjoy

The reprieve that college was supposed to be for you never actually had a chance of being one, you suppose. Leaving town after graduation didn't magically erase your debt. There was a time you thought your unexpectedly intimate relationship with Bailey would do just that, but you were young, and despite how worldly you'd become by the time you turned 18, in a lot of ways you were still very naïve. Money would always come first for him.

Now you were 22, and after many soul crushing years of working to pay off what you unfairly owed him, the day finally came to give him your final payment.

You knock four times on the heavy wooden door in two distinct passes,

knock knock,

knock knock,

a habit instilled in you early on in your orphan days, as Bailey was very careful about who he let into his office and there were far too many instances of him accidentally pulling a gun on an unsuspecting child or janitor. You hear a muffled "Come in," through it.

You do. It's not the earth shattering moment you thought it would be.

His voice is exactly the same as you remember. He looks exactly the same as you remember, and you've done a lot of remembering over the past four years. Bailey had saved your ass more times than you could count. Only once had you saved his, and it brought you closer to him than you ever thought possible. He'd said to you once, in so many words, that you reminded him of himself.

His eyes soften slightly when he sees it's you.

"Hey, kid."

As you shut the door behind you, you unceremoniously dig out the crumpled envelope filled with $4,000 from your back pocket and cover the distance it takes to reach his desk. He looks at your outstretched hand holding the only thing that anchored you to him anymore.

"Last one," you say.

He simply eyes you over as he takes the envelope, his fingers briefly cold and rough against yours. A tendril of smoke from a lit cigarette slithers up and permeates the air around you.

"I guess it is."

He doesn't bother opening it to count the bills.

He gestures for you to take a seat, but you don't really want to. You don't know if you can handle being eye level with him. Instead you walk back toward the wall and pretend to examine the framed newspaper clippings of inaccurately positive articles about Bailey and the orphanage; there's a grainy black and white photo of him at the town hall shaking hands with Mayor Quinn.

He asks you how long you're in town for, to which your answer is only a few days. You don't tell him that you'd wanted to check up on some of the younger orphans you once took care of, and maybe meet up with Sydney. You also don't tell him that your boyfriend had been badgering you about visiting the town you'd grown up in.

All of this you don't say, but that's how it's always been with Bailey. Speaking always seemed to pierce the bubble you both ebbed so freely in.

He leans back in his worn leather desk chair and looks out the window; sees your boyfriend leaning against the car, his sneaker tapping against the asphalt and head tilted vigilantly toward the entrance of the orphanage as if he doesn't want to miss the exact moment you walk out of it again.

"You're quite the little heartbreaker," Bailey comments. You can't help but roll your eyes and look down at your hands, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You're not really sure what to make of that accusation. Maybe he's remembering the greasy boy he'd sometimes catch sneaking out of your room when you weren't there, or the way Robin always followed you around like a lost puppy. Before you can say anything though, he speaks again.

"You love him?"

That makes you look up. His stare says he's analyzing every little puff of air, blink of your eyes, flex of your fingers, anything that would give you away if you dared to lie. You're careful to keep it all contained but meet his gaze just as pointedly.

"No."

There's no frill, no agenda in your tone. It's the truth. What you feel for the boy waiting outside could be called something similar to love, whether it's fondness or some other familiarly veiled affection. You just loved knowing he would be there when you walked outside of this haunted, God forsaken building. You know he'll ask you how it went, and will accept it when you say "It went fine," and will drive you far, far away from here.

Bailey considers your answer for a moment; flicks ash into a ceramic tray, then takes another puff of his cigarette.

"Why not?"

He asks it so rhetorically you almost want to laugh. You don't. The answer is too heavy on your tongue. All you can do is give him a whisper of a smile and a noncommittal shrug of your shoulder as you lean against the wall.

"He's not you."

The silence afterwards is thick, as you both drink your answer in at opposite ends of the room. He breaks eye contact first, head dipping to casually readjust in his chair, but it doesn't make you sad. You don't know what you were expecting to happen by coming back here today, but you know for sure now that you're okay with expecting and receiving nothing. You don't care what he does with your answer. You've made your peace. You just wanted him to know.

The little love you can muster in your heart at this point will always be reserved for Bailey, you suppose. It was always for him.

You say a quick goodbye and get up off the wall to go reach for the door knob when he stops you in your tracks once again.

"Come here,"

It's said gently, coaxingly, but it absolutely pierces you. And before you're even aware of it your feet are carrying you to him and you're throwing your arms around his neck.

He catches you with just as much fervor, as if you're both being jerked around by harsh, unyielding impulses. You feel him breathe deeply into your neck as he clutches his arms tighter around you. All you can smell and feel is Bailey, Bailey, Bailey.

Through all your trysts with Bailey, ever since the very first time, there haven't been many kisses shared. In fact, kissing Bailey feels almost wrong. Kissing Bailey is like when you see your reflection in a pool of water, and you poke it with your finger and the image ripples and distorts. You want to, now, but something still stops you.

He picks you up, strong hands wrapped around your thighs, and as you cling to him he walks you both into the backroom of his office where he keeps a small cot and tall stacks of wobbly boxes and other miscellaneous furniture items. He lays you down on your back. All you have in you is to sink into the rough, thin material of the cot and watch as he removes his plain button-up shirt; something he also rarely did when you were intimate.

It's a thrilling and special sight to bear witness to, seeing Bailey undress, even if only partially. You try to commit every detail about it, about him, to memory. You go for your shirt and bra next. Something in you wants to feel his skin against yours this time.

There's still no instinct to say anything through the haze of being with him like this again. You don't know what you'd say if there were. He presses most of his weight into you, moving down to pass a hand over one breast with a lazy squeeze, his thumb grazing over the nipple. He gives a generous swipe of his tongue over the other, closing his mouth around it and grinding his hips into you with a beautiful, low groan that almost makes you want to cry.

He drags his hand down the slope of your stomach and you help him take off your shorts and underwear. You're a little disappointed to realize he'd never get fully naked with you. At least not here. Especially not here. That disappointment is immediately quelled when his hand cups your cunt, then dips his fingers into your entrance, prodding shallowly to gather your slick and swirl it back up around your clit. The rest of his body still hangs over you, shielding you from you don't know what, his face hovering inches over yours. You can only stare back up at him through heavy lidded eyes as he warms up you up.

You feel your stomach do somersaults when you watch him shuffle down to the end of the cot and lean down to nose against your clit; he's never done this for you before. Annoyingly, you think of your boyfriend who is so hopeless at going down on you that you've stopped bothering to give him pointers. Also annoyingly, Bailey requires no instruction.

The release that courses through you is harsh and wracks your body, eyes squinting closed and he doesn't help you ride through it. Instead he swipes his fingers into your hole again, scissoring you open now that you're more pliable. He's never given this much attention to prepping you in the past, and normally, you've never really minded. Your goal has always been to feel close to him as fast as possible.

He unsheathes himself from his pants, gives his cock a few generous pumps, lines up and groans as he finally, and slowly, presses into you. You wrap your arms around his neck again as you savor the burn, the only word flashing in your mind once again being Bailey, Bailey, Bailey, until he's bottomed out. Then, in a moment that makes you think you've died and gone to heaven, he presses a kiss into the crease between your brows.

"Thank you," you whisper.

He rests his forehead against yours, pulls out almost entirely only to thrust back in at a languid pace, eventually working up to a more unforgiving one. You relish how fast your heart is beating and the graze of his chest against your nipples, trying to pull him closer and closer. You bet you'd crawl inside him if you could.

Eventually he slows his pace down again and unceremoniously pulls out of you, making you involuntarily whine at the emptiness you've now come to dread. He pulls back and goes to give his cock a few more pumps when you tell him to wait. You don't want him to cum on your belly.

"Will you do it here?" you whisper again, pointing to your cunt. You feel silly. Realistically it doesn't matter where he finishes. But you know this is the closest you'll get to feeling full of him again.

But Bailey nods, and releases all over your folds with a deep, content sigh. You feel it slide down your sensitive entrance, down to your ass cheeks.

You lay there giving your breathing a chance to even out as he fixes his pants and rearranges himself on the cot. He pulls a cigarette out of his pants pocket, lights it, and reaches over to the nearby window sill where he keeps yet another ceramic ash tray, pulling it closer. He props himself up against a pillow and drags you closer to him. You wrap your leg over his without really thinking about it, and he traces his fingers lazily over your bare hip.

He offers you a drag of his cigarette, but you shake your head no. You don't want to move.

"What're you doin' after college?"

You don't really know. You don't know why he's asking you, either. You're not really passionate about your degree or your coursework, or any of your part-time jobs. The only fulfilling thing in your life had been helping those kids you grew up with in the orphanage. And you'd eventually abandoned them. You don't say any of this.

"You could come work for me."

You prop yourself up and look at him, confused.

"You've always got a place here," he meets your eyes. "With me."

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, holding your stare.

[dindooku]

rating: E (swearing and violent themes)

word count: 6,572

tw - not explicitly said but can be interpreted as at suicide

And you thought that suddenly waking up on a planet in another Galaxy, only to be accompanied by a space wizard…a Jedi…was the greatest thing ever. Oh no… you were wrong. Granted, that was all great and everything, but it was no match for the fact that you were granted a lie in — a grand one at that.

You can’t remember the last time you let your body wake you up, not an incessant alarm clock or the hailing of bullets. It was weird, but definitely not un-welcomed.

You rolled over to face away from the wall, yawning and grumbling as the hands of sleep slowly lifted their trance. Slowly blinking open your eyes, you suddenly jolt up, remembering where you are, then crying out a curse at the now, new forming lump on the top of your head from the ceiling you’ve just head-butted. “Fuck—,” you mumble as you slowly roll out of bed, lightly rubbing your hand at the sore spot on the back of your head. You take a glance at your watch, 11:13 AM. Jesus, I really must've been tired. Placing your feet on the floor, you flex your toes and submit to the urge to stretch, grumbling again as the aches and pains of years of warfare click and pinch your body. You decide to wrap yourself up in the blanket Obi-Wan had given you as you trudge out into the front room.

But, it was empty, no sign of life. Surely Obi-Wan would’ve told you if he was going out, or leaving you? Either way, you make your way over to the fridge, hoping to find some scraps to munch on.

A sandwich catches your attention, and you quickly wolf it down without question. If it was Obi-Wan’s, you’d just make him another. He’d understand.

Peering around the room again, you test your voice, “Obi-Wan?” Nothing, “Obi-Wan, are you here?” Again, silence. Assuming he’s gone out, you decide it's probably best you get some fresh air, you’ve never been one for sitting around and doing nothing, so you quickly get dressed into a fresh set of clothes and head out into the temple.

Although you’d never been to a Monk temple or anything grandiose like that, you could only assume that this is what it would be like. The halls were quiet, but the occasional patter of footsteps or rage of children laughing broke the silence and tickled that sense of security that so deeply hides away in your chest. You aren’t used to being so…relaxed. For years your body has been on high alert, always assessing, reassessing, waiting for someone to attack you, to hurt you — yet here... you don’t even have to give defending yourself a passing thought. It’s just, completely and utterly calm, serene, balanced.

Before you know it, you’ve paced the halls for the last half hour and now you are stood outside some set of what appears to be... Dojos?

Glancing around again to make sure no one is watching, you gently place a hand on one of the doors, slowly edging it open. You chance a peek inside, but to your satisfaction, it is empty. You quietly step in, making sure not to make any noise as you close the door behind you. Stepping into the room, it is clear that it is some sort of training area, and upon further inspection your suspicions are correct. Around the edge of the room lay different pieces of equipment, which look like obstacles of sorts. You glance back around the Dojo, basking in the natural light that is pouring in through the high windows. The simple, creamy white walls are sturdy, but don’t feel overbearing, or claustrophobic — like before, it's just peaceful in here.

Letting your gaze roll over the room, you come across a cupboard in one corner. Making your way over, you make note of the soft floor beneath you, the cushiony fabric lightly hugging the soles of your feet, dreamlike. Reaching into the cupboard, you’re quickly met with the familiar array of weapons, although these are…different. Surrounding one edge, an array of combat and throwing knives sit comfortably among one another, along the other sits small staffs and odd-shaped objects you’ve never seen before. But in the middle sits a familiar sight, an odd, metal cylinder. Picking it up, you eye it for a second. It's constructed of metal and is about a hands length or two long. Along the bottom sits black, corrugated slats, and as you look up, a stainless steel-like tube makes up the main body to the top where it thins dramatically into a golden copper colour but is then fanned out into a large flat disk. In the centre of the cylinder, sits a red button. And, if you have ever learnt anything from horror or sci-fi movies, is that you should definitely not press the red button.

So what do you do?

You press the red button.

Instantly the room is filled with a violent blue and the electric hum of raw, static energy. The moment chills you to the bone, and the shock of such a marvellous, beautiful object stuns you. You absolutely, 100% could not have guessed that was what the red button would do. And, as if the inner child was pulling puppet strings within your mind, you slowly back up and wave the funny looking laser sword in front of you. The majestic hum of the blade tickles your eardrums, and you can’t help the intoxicating smile that is now riddling your face, scrunching at your forehand and around your eyes, the emotion of happiness and utter awe broadcasted by your innate reaction to such a feat of beauty.

You are transfixed.

But, you should know better, because as you turn around Obi-Wan is staring right at you — and he too is struggling to fight the fantastic grin gracing his face.

“So I see you’ve found my lightsaber,” he mutters.

“This..this is yours?” You whisper, still not taking your eyes off of the mesmerising blue blade.

“Yes, all Jedi have them, they’re called lightsabers. Unfortunately, I must ask for it back,”

“Yes, yes of course, sorry…I—I shouldn’t have touched it, I just, it—” you stutter out, trying to find a reason as to why you touched his stuff other than it looked cool.

“It’s quite alright, Darling, no need to panic,” he chuckles, reaching around you to switch it off so he could place it on his belt, “but I do believe we have some training to do, so…” he trails off, walking over to the cupboard to place the lightsaber back onto its stand, as well as removing his cloak, placing it neatly on the floor. He walks back over to you and places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you ok, my dear?” He asks, genuine concern now threatening to take over his grin.

“Yes…yes, I—I’ve just never seen anything like it. Its—,”

“Beautiful. I know,” he mumbles, giving your shoulder another tight squeeze to reiterate his point, “But, right now, I need to see you fight,” he says, quickly stepping back and getting into a ready position.

“…Fight, you want to, to fight me?” You ask, not quite sure whether he is joking or not.

“Yes, Dear. Loth-Cat got your tongue?” He chides, a smidge of sarcasm lacing his words.

Oh, ok, he wants to play.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” grinning back, you take a step back and calm yourself, standing broad and powerful.

“Hurt me? You could never, darling I’m a Jedi—”, But before he could finish his sentence, you’ve landed a nice, heavy thud of a kick to his chest, which sends his falling onto his back. That's odd, he thinks, I should be able to feel when she’s about to do something, I…what? Obi-Wan is visibly confused, and so you stop and crouch to the ground instantly, patting down his chest to make sure you weren’t too heavy-footed to start off with.

“I—I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” you say, panicking a little as you pat him down, checking for injuries or any broken bones.

“No—no, it’s me, I--I got distracted,” he mutters, still slightly put out at his inability to use the Force to predict your actions.

“No, I shouldn’t have—” but before you could finish, he’s gripped you by the ankles and is rolling you onto your back. Instantly you roll onto your front and scramble forwards, turning around as you both ready yourself into your respective fighting stances. Again, Obi-Wan lunged at you, but this time you dropped down, kicking your right leg out to trip him from behind. As he fell he grabbed your collar, bringing you down on top of him so that now you were straddling his hips. But, niceties aside, you were in full combat mindset and you were out to win — your body had trained for this for years, and every move was now muscle memory, you were practically a war machine now, designed and manipulated to kill.

So, you braced to the side, jumping back up again to the other side of the room. Obi-Wan followed suit, except — wait. His belt was gone, where…you had it. You had your right hand wrapped a couple of times in a loop, and your left was tightly gripping it as if it were a whip. And that's exactly what you intended to use it for.

Flicking your right wrist, you shot the harsh leather belt out, cracking it just a few centimetres away from the skin on Obi-Wan’s forehead, only then pulling it back, snapping it taut. The toothy grin that pinched at Obi-Wan's eyes didn't put you off like it should've, and instead had the complete and opposite effect, shooting a wildfire of intense heat surging to your core. You were enjoying this way too much, and by the looks of it... so was Obi-Wan, though he'd never admit it. So, you'd use this to your advantage, cracking the belt a couple more times, letting the buckle ting and snap at the pull of your wrist. It kept him at bay for a few moments, but only briefly. Eventually, he lunged forwards, aiming to land a punch as he bound towards you, but you twisted to the side, wrapping his wrist in his own belt. He twisted around, not hesitating to throw a punch to your right cheek. You should’ve expected that, you did just threaten to whip the man, but nonetheless, the thrill of a hard punch to your jaw woke you up. No stupid mistakes. The anger at your mistake was now bubbling, so you quickly wrapped the retreating hand he’d used to punch you into the belt, binding his wrists to yours. He let out a sarcastic chuckle as the realisation hit him — but so did you, both of you reaping the benefits of your...interaction. The smirk on your face grows a little wider now, the true fun only just beginning.

You shifted your weight harshly to the left, throwing him in a 180 to disorient and gain momentum. You then dropped to your knees, only to then twist and bring your entwined wrists above your head and then yanking hard, down over your right shoulder, bringing him onto his back; his head now facing you as his body was strewn away from your thighs. You quickly unwind his wrists, forcing the belt down over his neck to strangle.“Tiger got your tongue, Master?” The satisfaction in your voice over the play on words was clear. Oh, you loved proving people wrong, especially when they pretty much do it for you.

He gently patted your wrist to tap out, and you released him from the hold. Choking a little, he sits up and crosses his legs as he turns to face you, encouraging you to follow suit and do the same. You now both sat cross-legged opposite each-other, knees just lightly touching.

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked, rubbing slightly at his neck, still grinning despite the discomfort.

“I—I had to learn it myself. In the army, you see, I was the only women in my training battalion, so I was always pitted to fight and train against men, who, if you take a look at me, were typically a lot larger and stronger than me — physically. So, to give myself a fighting chance, I had to play their weaknesses to my advantage,” you said, smiling a little towards the end.

“Go on,” Obi-Wan encourages.

“Well, typically the men would think that they’re going to win, simply because I’m a woman and they’re bigger or stronger than me, but I’m a lover of physics, so I used that to my advantage. They weren’t especially quick or agile, and often they relied on their brute strength to win fights — that's only so good if you can actually land a punch,” you say, harbouring an infectious smug grin as Obi-Wan realised what you were saying.

“Smart girl,” he says, returning your smirk with an equally fictitious grin of his own. And at the use of his words, you blush a little, ducking your head in an effort to hide your quite clear arousal at the specific concoction of praise.  

“Yes, well, I figured if I could avoid their punches and use their own weight against them, the odds were in my favour, you could say I would have the high ground... So, like when I took your belt, I used your momentum against you, which A, — means you end up on the floor or out of place, and B, — I use minimal energy to do so, harbouring your efforts to suit mine. It’s all just simple mechanics, really,” you joke, but pleased with your explanation.

“Good…again,” Obi-Wan says. And with that, you both spend the afternoon training, learning from one another, morphing and smelting your own techniques with his, and vice versa, to a point where you were working in complete unison.

_____

“Master Kenobi, you’re needed immediately in the Council Room, it is urgent—,” comes a voice, a smaller younger creature of sorts as they burst into the training room, catching you both off guard. They’re panting as if they’ve just finished running a marathon.

“Yes, yes, of course, I’ll be there right away. Thank you,” he commands, instantly retrieving his cloak and lightsaber from the cupboard. You follow his movements with your eyes, waiting for his instructions. He walks to the door and is halfway out when he stops, turning towards you.

“Well, come on! We can’t leave them waiting!” He says, waving his arm in a beckoning way to hurry you up.

_____

“Skywalker, you are to accompany Master Kenobi and Amy to the Mid-Rim planet to resolve the escalating tensions,” says Mace Windu.

“Go, you will,” Yoda confirms.

“Yes Masters, although, are we sure it is safe for Amy to be travelling with us?” Anakin asks.

“Trained, is she not, Master Kenobi?” Yoda asks, turning his head towards Obi-Wan.

“Yes, she is. It was evident from our training today that her skill set is…unique, and I feel as though the 501st and 212th will greatly benefit from her direction and expertise,” Obi-Wan assures.

“What do you mean unique, Master?” Anakin mutters, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face. And if looks could kill, Anakin would be facing an early grave as the sharpened daggers of Obi-Wan’s glare was enough to puncture even the most protected of souls.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts, cursing the younger man with just the use of his name, “Amy is very skilled in combat, and I feel as though she has more to offer us than what we can offer her,” Obi-Wan punctuates.

“Yes, I am quite keen to see this style of fighting myself, Obi-Wan,” Mace says, rubbing his chin in thought, “Maybe even an incorporation of Vaapad could be organised,” He adds.

“I can ask, although I am sure there will be no objection, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan returns, nodding slightly at the offer. He knows Vaapad would be incredibly beneficial to not only your own fighting style but also that of Windu.

“Midichlorian count, know she does?” Yoda asks, changing the subject to something of more gravity.

“No, I—I have not broached that subject yet. Her energy in the force is something I have never experienced, Masters, as I am sure you can sense it too. I feel as though if we inform her of her abilities, we may not be able to offer the right support or, the fact of the matter being, we do not know what powers she does have,” Obi-Wan says gravely.

No one truly understands what is causing your disturbance in the Force to be so…unruly. They understand that the force is not necessarily embraced on Earth and that the human race is not Force-sensitive. But that does not explain your unique signature. It is not like the usual signature a Force-sensitive may harbour, which is outgoing and pure. Their signature reflects their emotion, their current state of mind. For Obi-Wan, it curls slowly in a smooth, milky cloud of crystalline and sea foamy blues, caressing his form with every breath. However, yours is almost…reversed. Like the light isn’t radiating out from you, but into you — as if you’re sucking in and absorbing the energy as you move. You’re not a vessel to the force, as one would normally expect, instead, you are a drain. And even though the Jedi are encouraged not to feel fear, it is unspoken among the Council members that their unease is not uncalled for. You are dangerous, unhinged, and they haven’t the faintest idea what to do about it.

“Talk to her, you must, important her understanding, it is — only problems it will cause, secrecy will. Trust you Obi-wan, she must,” Yoda says, and the council room is silent. Everyone is contemplating the potentialities of this arrangement, but if anyone were to calm and train the unpredictable nature that is Amy, then it is Obi-Wan; the great negotiator of the Republic.

“Yes, Master Yoda, I will see to it that we have this discussion. To add…what are we to do of her training? Must we teach her the way of the Jedi? She will have to face trials, and as we all know, she is not attuned to the Jedi way,” Obi-Wan asks.

“Hmm…” Yoda ponders, his ears dropping and his attention shifting elsewhere, deep in contemplation, “Meditate I will, future uncertain, it is,” He says. And with that, he bashes his stick to the ground and the meeting is adjourned.  

_____

You’re waiting anxiously outside of the council chambers. You couldn’t necessarily hear what was going on inside, but the general energy was…stifling. It was tense, and more than one person was obviously displeased with the current situation. But, as the doors to the chamber swung open, it was quite apparent who was causing the tension.

Anakin and Obi-Wan storm off down one of the corridors, and though you know it is rude to spy in on conversations, you only wanted to see if there was any way you’d be able to help. That and the fact that you just couldn’t help yourself, the SAS recon training made your skin itch with the need to gather intel, so, you silently watched from afar, keeping enough distance to make sure they couldn’t see you, but just close enough so you could listen in.

“What kind of nonsense is this, she is not trained in the form of Jedi, she will get killed out there, Obi-Wan!” Anakin boomed, his frustration clear.

“She is more than capable of handling herself, Anakin, trust me when I say that she will not be easily intimidated,” Obi-Wan instructed, placing a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, bringing them to a halt just next to a pillar.

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I understand, but she has no idea what she is getting herself into, she’s from another Galaxy for Maker’s sake! Think master, if she is to come with us, she must know,” Anakin demands. Know what?

“Anakin, I know. I do not feel comfortable bringing her along with us on this mission either, but her skill set is unmatched - she has experience beyond her years and her expertise could be game-changing!” Obi-Wan pleads, shaking the hand that is gripping Anakin’s shoulder.

“Game-changing yes, but she isn’t a Jedi, Master—how can we trust her?” Anakin whispers, he knows he is asking dangerous questions, but he cannot rid the fact at hand, you’re dangerous, and he doesn’t want to trigger a chain of unfortunate events which, he feels, the two of them will not be able to control.

“Anakin, please, she must come with us. This is a test of sorts, we must see what she is capable of so that we can react accordingly. Keeping her locked up in the temple will not solve the problem, only make it worse. We must realise her potential before it becomes unhinged,” Obi-Wan mutters. Unhinged…potential? What are they on about?

“Master, with all due respect, I do not feel comfortable fighting alongside a ticking time bomb,” Anakin snarls, his brows furrowing at the idea.

“Anakin, I do not appreciate your tone. She is not as dangerous as you are making her out to be, your ill-received emotions will only make things worse. You must have faith in me, young one. We must trust in the Force, she was brought to use for a reason,” Obi-wan insists, lining his voice with a bit more force this time, making sure his point comes across.

“I suppose you’re right Master…but that doesn’t mean I am comfortable with this, she still has—negative potential,” Anakin whispers, removing Obi-Wan’s hand from his shoulder and turning to step away, “I just hope you’re prepared to do what is necessary if she were to Fall, Obi-Wan,” Anakin mutters before completely turning away and leaving Obi-Wan alone in the hallway. His shoulders slump, and you notice that this is the stance of a beaten, conflicted man.

Without wanting to startle him, you slowly make yourself known to the outside world as you cautiously step into the hallway, bringing Obi-Wan’s attention to you.

You can practically feel the tension rolling off of him, and if the look on his face didn’t say anything, you knew that Obi-Wan Kenobi was in need of a hug. You slowly strode up to him, maintaining the soft, but stern eye contact to make sure that he stood in place and just as you were within reaching distance, you grabbed him, pulling him into your arms and wrapping him tightly in your presence. You tucked your head into his chest and listened to the slowly decreasing beat of his heart. He tripped back a little, and a small gasp left his lips, but just as quick as he had moved back, he moved twice as quick into your embrace, tucking his head down and into your shoulder.

Obi-Wan knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t be seeking console in others, and that as a Jedi he should release these feelings of anger and frustration to the Force, not rely on the comfort of others. But it just felt so good to be in your arms, and for you to be in his. He’d not felt the warmth of a hug in too long, and since Satine, he never trusted himself to ever let go if he found himself in one again — and he supposes now that he should have listened to himself because, as time slowly moves on, his resolve on letting go of you is quickly wearing thin. He chastises himself for being so open and flirtatious, for insinuating plainly devilish intentions, intentions he is not sure he will ever be able to allow to come to fruition, intentions he wants but knows he cannot get.

“Obi, talk to me,” and that just about cuts it. The sweet, muffled voice grabs him by the heart and corners him — the empty, hollow shell of his capacity to care and love others is now being forced open and the sand timer has started ticking. He knows now it’s not a matter of if, but a matter of when. And that realisation alone terrifies him. He can’t lose another, he can’t go through that pain again. Too many times has the sand vial been broken, and too many times has it been hurriedly repaired and glued together, only for the missing pieces to allow sand to trickle out and collect in pools, sinking into hollow feelings of despair and loneliness. But now, you’re here, and the tighter you squeeze, the less sand falls from his grip. And so, he understands, it’s you that is keeping him together, it’s you that is allowing his version of time to return to normal, to reverse the entropy of darkness threatening to consume his soul.

“I—I feel so conflicted Amy,” Obi-Wan mutters.

“I, I think you know what you need to do, and I think you know that you need to be a bit lighter on yourself, to trust your instincts a bit more,” you say, trying to reassure him that his feelings are not invalid, “Sometimes, Obi, following the rules isn’t always the right thing to do. We learnt this the hard way on Earth, we all flocked like sheep to cater the needs of those who demanded it, instead of looking at the bigger picture and fixing the problem at hand. You are a wise man Obi-Wan, and I have complete faith in whatever decisions you make, you must let go Obi-Wan, let go of the feelings that plague you so new ones can heal you,” And you punctuate your meaning by squeezing just that little bit tighter.

Obi-Wan sighs, you were right. He had to let go of those past feelings and focus on the bigger picture. Grieving is a natural part of life, but the whole purpose of grieving is to feel and let go. Holding onto the past will only suppress the future, and he knows what he must do, he knows what is right, he just hopes that he has the strength to do it.

You tug on Obi-Wan a little tighter again, before letting go. You move your head from his chest, but bring your gaze back up to him, holding onto both of his biceps, you sigh, “I’ve never been one for politics Obi-Wan, but I have spent my fair share working under those that rule. You have a choice in this, I did not have that luxury. Do what feels right, do what brings you comfort, do not sacrifice your own needs for the needs of others who would not return the favour to you. Sometimes... you have to be selfish.” You finish.

Obi-Wan lifts his head and just stares at you. Everything you said was exactly what he needed to hear, exactly what he’d been telling himself but refusing to believe. But, because the words came from you, unprompted and honest, he must do his duty and believe them. Yes, he must do what feels right. But what he feels right now is definitely not what he should be thinking, as his attention finds itself upon your lips.

He’s drawn like a ship in a Tracta beam, he can’t look away. He wants so badly to kiss you, to take that pretty mouth of yours for himself. He wants so badly to show you how he feels, to show his hidden, deep desires to seek pleasure in you.

And you gaze up at him, following his attention and realising that he too is thinking what you’re thinking. Your heart is practically soaring right now. Never have you fallen so hard for someone, ever. You are just under some sort of spell, both of you frozen in time and not wanting to crank the lever to start it back up again; like entropy has met its equilibrium.

That's when you find yourself leaning up, pushing slowly on your tiptoes to meet the invitation of his lips. Except you can't, because Obi-Wan has stepped back, and has decided that now of all times is to fiddle with his belt and reach into his pocket and turn on his communicator.

Hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You get the hint. He doesn’t want anything to do with you. He just wants to wind you up, make you believe he wants you, and then leave you hanging, each and every time. Well, you’re not falling for it again. You know your way back to your quarters, and you know its best if you just leave without saying anything, making your way back to the privacy of your bedroom to seethe there.

But you don’t. You’re pissed.

“Fuck you.”

Obi-Wan freezes mid-conversation with Cody, who was just prepping the ship for departure tomorrow morning. His gaze cuts to you, eyes now alight with something you’ve never seen before, a darkened, slow-burning fire that all but fuels your own anger.

“Pardon?” Obi-Wan replies, sternly, almost inaudible. But you hear him all right.

“I said, Fuck. You.” And you punctuate each and every syllable.

“Excuse me, Cody” Obi-Wan says, and closes the top on the holo-projection, although his stare has not left yours throughout this whole interaction. Your heart is thumping now, to the point you fear it may actually pop out of your chest and run down the hallways due to the stress. But you're not backing down. You’ve been in some of the most dangerous, stressful situations one can imagine, and you didn’t back down then, so there's no way in hell backing down now. But, before you have time to counter, Obi-Wan has grabbed you by the arm and is hauling you down the corridors of the Jedi temple. You protest but punching and pushing at his grip — but its unrelenting, and the two of you just scramble against each other until you are yet again at the door to his quarters. The door slides open and he yanks you in, and just as the door closes you let all of your unbridled rage rear its ugly head. You twist out of his grip and kick him into the wall, bridging a few feet gap between the both of you. He recovers and goes to grab you again but you stop him dead in his tracks.

A feeling you’ve never felt before, something foreign, but…intelligent, alive, and very, very powerful. It's coursing through your veins now and it’s almost blinding you, and the familiar buzz of static clouds your mind and brings dark spots to your vision, but you hold out, you’re not done yet. You throw a hand out in front of you, splaying your fingers and forcing your palm in his direction, channelling all your anger and hurt in his direction, pushing him back up against the wall. Obi-Wan gasps as he is shunted back, the air in his lungs knocked out from the sheer blunt shock of your reaction.

Next, you grip your hand into a tight fist, and slowly begin dragging it towards you. Obi-Wan begins to choke, not from strangulation, but instead from the agonising pain of the force within him being torn and ripped from his control. You hold him there, in this complete state of distress, teetering on the edge of both yours, and his own self-control.

“Don’t ever touch me like that again, do I make myself clear?” You growl, your voice wavering and flickering a harrowing tale of hurt and anger.

“Y—yes…” Obi-Wan breaths out, struggling against the lingering pressure on his chest.

“If you don’t like me, Obi-Wan, stop leading me on. It is cruel.” Snarling this time, your emotions twist into excruciating hurt, the power you harbour intensifying and magnifying the bleeding ache of rejection.

“It's not that I do—don’t like you…I—Jedi are not…attachment is forbidden” he chokes, and just like a switch, the rage dims and Obi-Wan drops to the floor, gasping for air. He clutches his chest, but the pain is not the lack of oxygen, but more so the sudden influx of the Force surging back into his body. Like pins and needles in a leg, or a cramp, the feeling that returns is not unwelcome, but it is painful to say the least, even if it be temporary.

And that's when you realise what exactly you’ve just done. The guilt is unparalleled. It doesn’t matter if it is forbidden or not, it's the fact that he said no, he pulled away, and that your initial reaction was to act like a spoilt child and throw a tantrum, a dangerous, uncontrollable tantrum. The rage from before has slowed its pace, and now the heavy, leaded guilt sinks you to the ground. You have never reacted like this before. You’ve always had a close relationship with anger, but you’ve never let it rule you; normally you would embrace it and use it to your advantage, only to let the emotion slip away when the time had passed. But for some inexplicable reason, the moment he rejected you, you saw red.

“I—I’m, sorry, Obi-Wan, I’m so—sorry, I don’t know what that is, I’m so so sorry, please—,” You mutter out, still stuck in place. You gaze down at your hands and flex your fingers. Never have you done anything like that. But that isn’t your main concern right now, Obi-Wan is. You did this, this was your fault, now fix it. “Please, let me help you, I—I didn’t—,”

“Darling, it's ok, just, please…manage your emotions. I feel I am partly to blame for this too, I—I must explain myself,” Obi-Wan assures as he pushes himself up off the ground, brushing down his garments as a nervous response to the tricky situation he now finds himself in. He looks up at you and immediately his heart sinks. Your eyes are red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears, and you’re visibly trembling. He knows he owes you an explanation for his behaviour at the very least, “Why don’t we go and sit down on the sofa and talk this out, hmm?” He says, bringing an arm out as he cautiously steps forward, ushering you over to the sofa. You both sit, except you take extra care to sit on the opposite side of the sofa, leaving as much space as you can between each-other. You don’t want to hurt him again, and now you don’t even trust yourself to keep a tap on your own emotions.

You tuck your hands underneath your ribs and wrap around yourself, curling in. You feel so small now, so weak and miserable, it’s embarrassing. This whole situation is a complete and utter fucking mess, you’re a mess, your life is a mess. But you’re broken out of your self wallowing by a gentle hand, a lifeline, courteous of the ever-generous Obi-Wan. He pulls the closest arm out from its grip around you and pulls,  slowly encouraging you over towards him until eventually your head is resting on his lap and you’re laying out along the sofa. One of his hands sits along the upper part of your waist, where his thumb leaves small, comforting circles on your trembling ribs, whilst the other slowly soothes your hair in gentle, passive strokes.

Eventually, you’re calm enough to reason, and Obi-Wan breaks the silence.

“It is forbidden for Jedi to have attachment… attachment leads to feelings of anger and jealousy, and therefore to the Dark Side," Obi-Wan starts, but you cut him off.

"You don't have to explain yourself, it's ok, no means no and I'm sorry I read things wrong, and I apologise for my language, it was most rude of me to address you like that, especially whilst you were mid-conversation," you sniffle, trying your best to hide the cracks of nervousness in your words.

"Amy, it's...it's complicated. I accept your apology, although I am sure Commander Cody found it quite amusing--," but before he can comfort you, your heart drops. Oh shit.

"C--commander?" you mutter, hoping that you just heard Obi-Wan wrong and you didn't just swear in front of a senior ranking official.

"Yes, Commander," Obi-Wan reiterates.

Oh, Jesus Christ. You've really blown the boat out on this one, what a fucking idiot.

"I am so sorry, Obi-Wan, I--," you stop, not wanting to dig yourself into a hole you can't get out of. Maybe you should take Frankie's advice and just keep your mouth shut, "so much for a great first impression," you mutter out loud. You've completely blown it. The room falls silent now, and you slowly allow yourself to revel in the calming touch of Obi-Wan. You get it, he's just being nice, being the gentleman he has been born and raised to be -- but deep down you don't want things to be that simple; you want him to want you, you want these small actions and personal moments to have an ulterior motive; to be for you because he feels for you, not because it's the right thing to do, but because you want to feel worth something, to feel like a possession and not an object. You've been nothing but a number, a tool in the rigorous machine that is violent politics for over a decade now. You forbid yourself from luxuries like a social life or sentimental connections, but you're not home anymore, you're in a completely different Galaxy. But life is never fair you reason; because even though you're ready to start letting someone in, they are not even remotely interested in returning the gesture. It hurts, but when has life ever been anything but painful for you? Looking back on it, what has your life been? You spent all those years 'doing good' and serving others, only to never have others do good for you; what's the point in living life if it isn't even yours to enjoy?

Life is just a vicious cycle of hurt and regret, and now more than ever you wish you pulled your own trigger all that time ago.

Obi-Wan has been quiet for some time now, and, now you focus again on your physical body, you notice his hands have stilled, resting peacefully on your head and shoulder. You chance a look up to make sure he's ok, and you're glad you did because Obi-Wan's head was leaned over onto the side of the arm of the sofa, completely passed out from sleep. You couldn't help but smile at his peaceful form; a couple of unruly tendrils of golden strawberry blonde hair tickling his forehead, and the painful lines of stress melted away, giving in to the smooth, tranquil blanket of serenity. He truly was a masterpiece, and he didn't even know it. You knew this man didn't reciprocate his feelings to you, through either his own decision or that of the Jedi rulings, but it didn't mean you had to be cruel, so, you just relaxed, fully indulging in the company of one another in the seclusion of his apartment, away from prying eyes and judgement.

You could go through the hurt if it meant you could have more moments like this -- this was worth it. He was worth it.

[delugguk]

Who are you? | knj

pairing: namjoon x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: drabble, a bit of intriguing vibes?

Note: Inspired in when bts when to Malta this just popped in my head so I had to write it. PLEASE please let me know what you think of this! any constructive criticism is allowed! :) 

Here l am once again contemplating the black and glistening dark sea in this beautiful euphoric night.

I like to be here most of the time. Ever since I'm in this place... I tend to feel very calm and nice, letting my thoughts to connect and navigate beneath the shimmery stars accompanied with the sweet gentle sound of the ocean waves. I always come here alone. l enjoy observing the people around me having conversations, just enjoying the ambient of a cold, lonely, and windy night full of street yellow lights making it somehow kind of comforting and warm.

 "What’s on your head right now?"

A sudden unfamiliar voice resounds next to me interrupting my thoughts,

.

 "Uh, excuse me, are you talking to me?" I startle calmly and confused since l don't know this girl, and nobody ever have talk to me so suddenly. At least... not in a place like this that’s so quiet and kinda.. secret?

“Of course I am,” She does a slighly grin, “Who else would l be talking to? We are literally the only ones standing in this balcony." she softly laughs. 

I take a look at the stars lowering my gaze slowly throughout everyone enjoying themselves in the little park beneath this balcony. I realize that she's right. So l laugh softly too,

"Oh.. Sorry. I guess l was too immerse in my thoughts that l forgot how fast time passes sometimes." She looked at me with narrowed eyes to say,

 "That's why l asked what's on your mind.. You seemed a little.." She look me in the eyes shifting her gaze to the sea, paused for 4 seconds to then look at me with playful eyes and a little tiny smirk.

"Interesting to be honest, your eyes didn't quit a minute looking at the strong waves of this sea." I laugh feeling a little embarrassed while lowering my head a little bit. 

"Did l really looked like that? I'm sorry." I stammer.

"Sorry? What do you need to feel sorry about? It's ok. I am like that sometimes too." She's smiling. -She seems to smile a lot?-

Her words made me felt less embarrassed, "Ok, sorry, l didn't meant to-" l cut my sentence realizing l was apologizing once again, she did too, so we both end up laughing, 

“you are doing it again! It's ok, l understand." She says trying to contain her laugh. l don't know what to do so l just nod my head into an 'ok' movement.

We both got inmersed into the moon seeing how the light smoothly reflects into the sea, hearing the glorious splash sounds of the waves crashing into each other along with the distant voices from the kids playing along... We kept the silence relishing the night atmosphere. Little smirks into our faces kinda like, reminding what just happened a few seconds ago and she, looking a bit hesitant, opens her mouth leaving a soft sound,

"So.. You didn't answer my question earlier," she looks at me with shiny eyes.. I realized she had such beautiful eyes. "What where you thinking?"

I.. doubt a little because l don't know her, but then l thought that l might not see her again since I'm just in Malta for a short vacations.

"I.. Was just thinking about people, life and.. Just kinda appreciating the scenery of this moment to be honest." I blurt out while looking at the people passing with bicycles and the ones walking dogs, etc.

With a radiant expression, she asked, "Oh really? What do you like about it?"

She seemed really bug-eyed so l continue, "Well l just like to see how different people lives are, and how they find happiness or pleasure in the tiniest stuff, it doesn’t even matter what it is, like, whenever it is blowing bubbles, drinking your favorite smoothy or just seating at some random place to talk with their friends, meeting new people, how people interact indeed is kinda interesting to watch." I wither backing up a little trying not to make her think I'm some kind of creep but as l was talking l noticed her eyes were following everything l was mentioning.. 

"Well... yeah, that's pretty interesting.. Do you think they find some kind of comfort in the night?" She has a very amusing tone in her voice.

"Of course. The night makes you feel at ease most of the time, and you find some sort of peace, at least it does for me..” I paused to look up to the sky, “That's how l see it.” -softly sighing- “So l think they feel more freer and comfortable at night kinda like, night owls..” -fidgeting fingers- “I feel like everyone is a night owl but they just keep that as a secret.” I took my eyes down glaring at her this time, “It might be somehow embarrassing l guess... You don't want people to ask you how you feel once the night comes, do you?" I wait for her response.

"I agree but l think it depends though." l raise up my eyebrows putting all my attention to her, "In what meaning?"

She moves both of her hands up to the arms of the chair lifting her butt up to cross her legs to face directly at me while answering. "Because you just don't talk those things with random people. You need to feel comfortable enough to share your vulnerable feelings and those raw thoughts that always occurs to us at 3am you know?” -She quickly fixes one tiny piece of hair off her shoulder and continues- “So you don't feel judged."

l nod my head, "Well yeah you right.. That must be one of the reasons why we all seem to hide that part of us. It can be like the really intimate and real 'behind the scenes' of what's really happening to us. Only mister moon/night knows, and she or he don't judges!" I warmly say.

She gently nods her head into a -yes- manner and l keep talking,

"But they don't have to worry about nothing, is just the vulnerable you, the moon... the universe... the stars... And that melancholy cold wind and slight white light from the moon touching our delicate skin, we all need to protect us from the dark once in a while." 

"Right. That's what l think too.. Also if the night could have a smell how would you describe it?" She looked at me with some passionate, curious eyes, l didn't knew why l was answering to her questions but somehow l was enjoying myself talking about this..

"How could l describe the smell?" She nods blinking cutely. I smile shyly don't knowing why l feel like this and say,

"Mmh.. It's hard to put a smell to the night since l think it's a indescribable smell.. Kinda mysterious. But l think the one that can be the most.. Similar? Could be the smell of the rain." I grin softly.

She pushes her body back and forth crossing here legs into a different position this time, putting one hand on her cheek looking at me with an amazed face to  enthusiastically spill out,

"The rain? Why is that?"

I laugh shrugging slightly up and down covering my mouth looking at the floor shifting my gaze at her at how cutely she made that question,

"Do you like the smell of the rain?"

"l love THE rain AND the smell!" She says way too excited, I laugh once again and proceed to say,

“Well l too, love the rain. And if l could describe the smell l would say first, how much l love whenever l go to the street and the smell of the rain that became one with the asphalt, sand and plants, goes through my nostrils filling all the way down to my lungs making all of my senses to re-activate into a satisfying mood.” I paused myself to leave a relieved breath and sigh,

“Even tho it's a weird feeling.. Why does it feel so nice? And the emotion that it gives you too, can be either way melancholic.. But not in a sad way is more like in a comforting manner. Or happy as if you feel relieved of doing all the things you just had to do. Is more of a relaxing feeling. And it doesn't matter if you're alone or not, you feel good and safe.. I guess is something about the sound of the rain too that it makes you feel more connected with yourself doesn't matter where you are and even so,” -I licked my lips- “that part might be different from the night for being silence, if you see... they're not so far away to be equal since when the rain is gone the essence is always left and that's why you know it rained right? Well that sentiment you feel in that moment can be the same as the one in the night time. Because the night has its own unique essence that makes you wish to never leave. But is more difficult to describe.”

I say looking at her face pausing for a second, realizing how there’s just a few people left playing in the park, but I continuing to say,

“So yeah you could say that the rain has the same function as the slightly, transparent, soft white light of the moon that l mentioned earlier. And that's why l choose the rain as the similar smell associating the night. Because they both are kinda mysterious but comforting and really has a lot in common when it comes to people letting out their vulnerabilities to be fully themselves it kinda has the same vibe as those 3am thoughts you also mentioned."

I finished saying that with a smile as l talked enthusiastically. But I notice her looking at me with.. I should describe as.. such a endearing or.. caring eyes? Since I've been talking to her practically the whole night, l could notice that this is a new gaze from her. I was waiting for her to answer but she seemed speechless? So l proceed to speak.

"Mhm.. There's something wrong? Or a cat ate your tongue?" I say a little playful with her since she keeps looking at me like that.

She takes away her gaze from me, moving her head to the side searching for her phone to what l think is to see what time it is..

She makes herself up off the chair, looks at me, blurting,

"Oh, did you know it's 4am!?"

I was surprised time really went fast. 

l was about to speak but she began to say something looking kinda strange.

"It's such a shame l have to go now and-" l cut her out to say,

"Wait, are you leaving? Aren't you telling me your thoughts abou-" she interrupts me.

"Oh y-your were amazing! Honestly your mind... is honestly beautiful. l would like t- to keep talking but l h- have to go now! l didn't know it was that late."

I was a little confused by the way she was acting but since it didn't seem like l could convince here to stay, l just needed to know something l realize l did not get to know about her even tho we didn't get to talk much about us, l wanted to know this one thing if I'm never seeing her again l wanted to remember at least this.

She was already leaving without saying any other word and l stood out the chair to run at her grabbing her arm carefully to ask this one last question.

"Wait! Can at least know your name? I didn't asked for it the whole night, I'm Namjoon. What's your name?" -I sounded a bit desperate, but I had no choice-

She let go of my hand, looked around, hugged me giving me a mona lisa smile sweetly saying,

"It was a good night and conversation,” A smirk draws her face, “We are strangers but found a connection while hearing the soft waves of the sea.. Admiring people, being unbothered, and just letting our thoughts out. It was our 3am thoughts that we shared. And we are strangers. We just contradicted a part of our sayings without knowing about it leading us to just one thing..” She caressed my face with her soft hand, -I couldn’t stop the strange butterflies going on my stomach- “l will never forget your face Namjoon. lt was really a nice to meet you."

And with those last words.. She's gone. Leaving me there with just the memory of her intriguing and curious eyes and that small softly laugh that kept reproducing into my head for days, imagining the scenery of that night that was mysterious for her presence and relieved because we were carefree of our thoughts.

The last thing that keeps resonating in my head are her very last words.

“We just contradicted a part of our sayings without knowing about it leading us to just one thing” -one thing- I realized and found out that what she meant was that we shouldn't let us hide our feelings and that we should be always true to ourselves. Doesn't matter which person we talk to. We should never stop speaking our minds whenever we are with strangers or not. Because we just did that and it actually felt great. l realized how truly amazing she was then. And it was such a shame that the only thing left to that night are these incredible memories of this very intriguing girl that l let go without knowing her name. But one thing that I'm pretty sure is that l would never forget her face too.

note2: hope you like this, don’t be afraid to letting me know how you felt about this, mwah