#I just. Sit and think of Gale being so talkative and eager to share what he's learned | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

linaselandbasil · 3 months

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Vampire Kareshi ch.3

Ch.1, Ch.2, AO3 link.

University au, Bloodweave.

Have fun reading yall!

...

After a long shower, a careful trim of his beard, cutting of his nails and a few drops of cologne, he felt ready. He put the wizardly robes on, he was looking great, feeling giddy. But also he's going to throw up from the stress.

"Wyll I'm nervous." He finally turned to his friend after a few minutes of checking the time and waiting for an 'im here' text.

"But you want this, so get yourself together. " Wyll was looking at him pacing in the room, comfortably sitting on the couch with a can of some disgusting sugary death drink in hand.

"I do. I'm just not used to stuff like this! Do you think he's going to kiss me?"

"I don't know. I'm sure he will if you ask him to. But make sure you don't kiss him too soon, wait until the end of the night."

"Um, okay."

"And don't be afraid to flirt. He will probably be put off if you just take all the compliments and don't give any back, it would make it seem like you're not enjoying yourself."

"Understood." A notification sound rang aloud in the room. "It's time... Thank you for lending me your fancy cologne, it won't be forgotten!" He checks the message.

'I'll be there in a few minutes, cant wait to see you darling.'

Darling... DARLING!

'The feeling is mutual.'

"Are you not going to get going?" Wyll asked, confused as to why his friend was just watching the parking lot from the window.

"I'll teleport, it makes an impression!"

"You can do that?"

"Of course, what kind of wizard can't teleport? Oh look, he's there!" Wyll scampered to the window to finally see this mistery man.

"That... My father has a car like that, just who is this guy?"

"He said his father was Cazador. I suppose that should tell you something."

"Cazador Szarr? I'm not surprised he has a son I've never heard about, I'm sure he has a couple more he himself hasn't seen."

"I see. Well, it's lovely talking to you in our shared livingspace that I see you in every single day, but I think it's time for me to get going! Until next time!" He bowed and walked into a portal that was freshly opening up behind him.

In the ambiguous space between the two portals he found himself a little stuck. Oh no...

...

Astarion checked himself out in the selfie camera, carefully inspecting his visage. He'd do it in one of the many mirrors of Cazadors displacer but he cannot, for obvious reasons.

He was startled by a loud magic magicing right beside his car. He was not eager to get out and see what's up on account of him being in the possession of survival instincts, but when a hand with a pretty ring on it reached out, he became intrigued.

"A hand? Please?"

"Oh, Gale! It's you!"

"Can you help me out?" He grabbed the hand and began pulling. No use. In the meantime Wyll was watching all of this go down from the window and thought 'That's one hell of an impression you're making.' He pitied the both of them and reached into the portal to give Gale a good push. He has 9 strength, so he's not much better off than the other two but it did the trick!

Astarion could barely keep standing as the human fell into his arms. "So you're a wizard?"

"Yes, I am! An apprentice of Elminster and a graduate of the Wizarding academy of Waterdeep! I'm working on my second degree here in Baldur's gate." He straightened up, proud as could be. Suddenly as he was faced with the elf, all his nervousness faded into oblivion. Standing this close, Gale also noticed that the elf was not by much, but still a little shorter than him. He seemed taller on camera, not that Gale is complaining.

"I wouldn't have guessed you were a wizard! This is interesting to say the least! I must say, you look positively delectable, darling."

"So do you." Gale looked at the vampires outfit, which was hard to see as it was mostly black. What Gale didn't fail to notice was the way it glittered as it was illuminated by streetlights. "You look much more solemnly dressed, I must say I feel like a clown."

"Oh no, you'll be fine, I'm the weird one for dressing for the casket I was always destined for. I felt like I didn't wear this black jacket enough, so I put an outfit together just so I can wear it."

"I'd say it was a great idea, you look... Pretty." The wizard fiddled with the sun motifs embroidered into the robes of summer.

Astarion opened the door of the car and beckoned him in. He did so without a question. Astarion followed shortly after, starting the car once again. "Thank you. But let me warn you, this gift is particularly hard to open, the zipper on this top always gets stuck!" Astarions sharp gaze was solely fixed on the road ahead, but he can definitely tell Gale was flustered beyond belief.

"I- I see... "

"You're cute, I'll stop, I can see that you're a bit uncomfortable."

"No, continue! I'm just not in my element, not much experience you see!"

"I understand." He started the car, all he could think about was how much he he wished that Cazador didn't like this one.

...

To Gales surprise, he wasn't over or under dressed, he was perfect. That didn't make him feel any less strange though.

A couple of guests he spoke to seemed to eye him with interest, then with disappointment as they got nearer, he wondered what that was about. Maybe they didn't like that he seemed to already have a pair.

"Darling, care for a drink?" Astarion appeared right besides him, speak of the devil. He's quiet as a kitten, but Gale didn't know he was supposed to get spooked so he didn't.

"I've had plenty already, thanks." He looked around at the other guests, who were behaving very very improperly. He's not that kind of girl.

"Hmm, you know, these people are quite the company, but I'd prefer yours alone. Would you like to find us a dark corner to slink away into?" Astarions arm was wrapped around his, the human could hear the sequins of Astarions jacket scrape against his robes rough outer layer.

"Sounds like a fantastic idea, let's go!" Gale didn't like these sorts of gatherings, he was eager to be in peace at last. The pale elf pulled him in the direction of the hallway, which was clearly not to be explored by the attendees.

Servants rushed back and forth through it, paying the two of them no mind. It was a lot darker than the ballroom, giving the illusion of privacy, but believe me, someone's always watching in the Szarr Palace.

On the balcony, the air was cold, but refreshingly less stinky than inside.

"Finally, a moment to ourselves, I almost wish we didn't even come to the party, hiding away in the gardens would have been just as good." Astarion said, inching closer to Gale. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would." Gale did some wizardly magic hand gestures at the sky and gorgeous swirling colorful lights appeared. Gale leaned into the railing and noticed Astarion immediately got cozy very close to him, they were touching, it was to the wizards liking but it still got his pulse all the way up.

"Fascinating. Can you also make a bed appear?"

"I can, although maybe that would be untimely, considering this is our first date."

"...True. You want another date after this? I hadn't been on a second date in a long while." Gale was quite surprised to hear that.

"Why not? I thought people were begging for your attention."

The charming smile came back to the face of the pale elf. "You know what? Let's not talk about that! Tell me about yourself!"

He thought for a second, there's a lot to say. "Um, I have a tressym, her name is Tara."

"I love cats." Astarion got real cozy, putting an arm behind Gale and watching the magic show.

"Me too, don't call her that to her face though. It's like me calling you a mosquito man." Astarions smile dissapeared, he looked at his date.

"... What."

"Because, you know, vampire?"

"YOU- You knew?" He put some distance between the two of them so he cam properly glare at the human.

"Of course I knew! You're not quite as subtle as you think and I'm a wizard, I know a thing or two about the undead."

"That's fair, how silly of me... It's almost midnight, isn't it. Almost time." Something is weird about him all of a sudden. Gale senses some sort of magic in the air that doesn't belong to him.

"For what?" The vampire stood up, pulling Gale with him. "Astarion?"

"Follow me."

He almost ran. Briskly walking through the dark rooms, back through the ballroom, into a weirdly placed door and straight dark hallway. Gale was never an athlete, he was wheezing. Through all this, he barely noticed the magic getting stronger. At the end of this hallway there was a room, which Astarion barged into, pulling the wizard along.

"Astarion, it was about time you arrived." Said someone whom also appeared to be a vampire. "Come closer."

Astarion dragged him towards the man, which Gale tried to resist but couldn't. "Are you Cazador?"

"Oh, you recognize me? How fun!" He stood up, towering over the both of them. He looked like he smelled something foul, but quickly schooled his face.

"Must have noticed my blood, let me assure you, it's not tasty!"

Cazador furiously glared at Astarion.

"I swear, I didn't tell him!" His tone was calm and collected, but still. He was afraid.

"I figured it out myself, you guys are not exactly masters of deception." Gale was often jarringly confident in his.... Well, everything. He thought that since he was in on some kind of secret, the vampire would spare his life.

Well, it wouldn't be smart to attack a mage.....Cazador is not the smartest, or the prettiest or nicest, but he's not attacking Gale of Waterdeep. Not that he knows who Gale, is, he hadn't left his palace in decades. "You're dismissed."

Astarion then dragged him out of the room and back to the balcony, completely ignoring his questions. This is so weird.

...

"So you can safely teleport back to your dorm? If not, I promise I'll pay for the taxi, just don't do it drunk." The vampire leaned into the railing of the balcony.

"I'll manage. I didn't have that much!" Gale adjusted his hat and awkwardly looked at Astarion, who was being eaten alive in self loathing and dread. He didn't show that, only a tiny bit of worry slipped past his walls for the wellbeing of someone he was ready to let Cazador drain dry.

"I'll trust your judgment, I was never any good at magic." They stared at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

"Is it appropriate to kiss on the first date?" Asked Gale, trying not to sink into the tiles from shame.

Astarion was about to say 'first base is missionary' but held his tounge. "Do you want to?" He asked with a grin you'd want to wipe off of him with a well balanced bitch slap.

"I do."

Astarion stepped closer, got on his tippy toes and kissed him. On the mouth. He put his hands on Gales arms, keeping him in place. Gale was still as a statue though, there was no need to hold him.

When it was over, Gale had a goofy grin on his face and got very very very red. A portal opened behind him and he slowly backed into it, feeling the vampires hand gently slide off of his arm.

"Goodbye, I'll text you."

"See you, hopefully soon."

...

#baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #bloodweave #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction

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knightcallie · 5 months

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Baldur's Bounties: Language Learning

Language was something everyone shared and learned over their lifetime, and it came in many forms. Even a common language can have hundreds and thousands of different dialects. Weichei didn't realize his was so different than Faerûn's and forgets he wasn't with his typical party.

Weichei didn’t think it would’ve been a problem. He really, really didn’t think it would be one. All the gazes were questioning, his own lips parted and hands wondering how to sign next.

“Is, Is my Elvish that different?” he queried, signed.

Astarion’s gaze squinted, posture leaning towards one side. “Well— It’s still recognizable, but it’s more—” His coiffed head bobbled, trying to place it. “Sing-songy?” he offered, “Definitely different enough that I could notice darling.” His ruby eyes briefly glanced down at the drow’s hands.

Periwinkle eyes glance up briefly, before bobbling in self-affirmation. “Ruben does take on a more musical take on languages,” he recalled, “Kinda. Thought elvish in general sounds more sing-songy? To non-elves at least.”

Shadowheart lifted her chin a bit, brows furrowed a tad. “A bit, but I suppose it depends where you reside.” Her arms folded across her chest. “But you definitely don’t sound like a Faerûn native.”

There’s the unspoken ‘don’t look like one either’, but Wyll does note, “Or perhaps he’s from a part of Faerûn none of us been to. Northeast perhaps?”

The drow shook his head. “Fenim actually,” he replied, “Rubenschaun, Fenim. I’m not too sure how far exactly it is to Faerûn, but…” The forestline, he wondered how Beau was faring. “Far enough.”

It led to lots more questions about where he came from, what’s it like over there, the languages. Gale was particularly eager, and Weichei happily answered. Eres’ blessing burned pleasantly against his skin, patiently passionate. There’s talk about the possibility of using sign and signals in their repertoire, just to make communication easier on the battlefield. But, it will take teaching, and Weichei does have to think about what were the easier signs and signals to teach and see on the battlefield.

Though somehow, it did relax him enough to use a language he only really used for people he’s close to. He was sitting by Halsin, absentmindedly listening to the campfire talk during dinner. At some point, he must’ve reached for his hand, signing what the other’s were talking about, noting each speaker with a specific letter. He doesn’t really notice the eyes, until Lae’zel spoke up.

“What are you signing? Are you hiding something from us?”

Her harsh voice broke through his lull, his eyes blinking owlishly. Periwinkle eyes looked around, before landing on the large wood elf. A smile was received when it landed on him, before Weichei returned his gaze to the audience. “Uh—”

“Oh, telling some saucy secrets are we?” Astarion grinned, a suggestive smirk on his lips. “Care to share with the class darling?”

“If it helps,” Halsin started, “I do not know this code you’ve been signing on my hand, so I’m afraid there’s no secrets to be had,” he chuckled.

Karlach then piped with a groan, “Don’t tell me this is another thing we gotta learn, I’ve only got so much space to spare in this noggin’!”

At this point, Weichei had returned his hands to his chest before smiling sheepishly. “No, no— This was just something when I was still in my early years in bounty hunting.” He tucked a loc behind his ear. “Having cannons blow off so often does something to your hearing.” He tapped at his earrings, an enchanted gift from his closest friends and family. “Lorm just makes it easier to keep me in the loop or just have less misunderstandings.” He looked off into the distance with an amused look on his face, a memory surfacing. “I’m so glad I was safe from being eaten for dinner.”

#bg3 writing #writing #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #my tav #weichei zauviir #bg3 companions #weichei realizing: oh gods dammit i fucked up #he is not from faerun and it shows #you would not believe the amount of mishearings back then #weichei being asked to be someone's ears #he thought he heard eels #in comes another and said 'eels sound good for dinner'#Weichei: NOOOO 😭😭😭 I DONT WANNA BE EATEN #he’s so smart but so stupid sometimes (fond)#looping it back to the mute!tav like even tho weich ain’t mute #also hbd to me!#of course the funniest and most thought provoking writing lands on my birth #note that I’m queuing these so #I’m just doing them in the order I wrote them + spacing them a week apart #Weichei tryna teach the group stuff he does as a bounty hunter #it’s never going to be as seamless but they’re trying!#thank the gods Weichei is patient but sometimes…#gale: why not use magic for this #Weichei: what happens when you use up your magic reserve #Weichei: what happens when you’re forcibly dampened #Weichei: and yes we have tadpoles BUT then it’d be like a crutch #Weichei: imagine you don’t have it and try to do it?#weichei: hope to gods you have someone who’s telepathic or something

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noamuth · 2 months

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Sometimes I like thinking about how a Dal camp companion would work.

Like, after going too long between Long Rests with Dal in the party, he will start to show signs of pain not unlike the way Gale does. But, unlike Gale, Dal does NOT confide in you at the moment. You have to take a Long Rest and speak to him at camp, choosing careful dialogue options to get him to admit that he has a fairly new but chronic back injury--it's been too long since getting the injury to heal by magic means (it's "healed" as much as it's going to, the same way that a scar can be a cause of pain but is the "healed" form of the injury), only rest helps to sort of.. "reset" it.

Initially, having him stay behind in camp leads to huffy, indignant comments like "Good luck. You will need it without me." Both because he feels as though he's being treated as weak or being seen as a liability.

BUT, with enough approval/friendship and knowing his situation, removing him from the party will cause him to actually thank you for the chance to rest because he knows you care about him, and when he joins the party again he will remark on how refreshed he feels.

Using healing magic on him will obviously work to replenish health, but will earn negative comments from him.

He makes negative comments about things like the sun and the heat, and awe-struck and positive comments about things like flowers and art (especially fashion and jewelry, but also scenic paintings about places he's never been before).

Dal will make negative remarks to and about any primarily-magic-wielding party member to show the player his displeasure about magic and, in part, his insecurity around magic users.

His banter towards everyone is somewhat antagonistic at first but slowly softens more into curiosity:

He goes from hating Gale to asking him questions about the world because he realizes Gale is too eager to teach to be judgemental about it. In return, he offers analogous information about the Underdark to satisfy Gale's curiosity.

He goes from being bigoted towards Lae'zel to appreciating her skills in combat as well as her knowledge on Illithids despite her young age, as well as feeling a bit of connection in the fact that neither of them are from Faerun.

He goes from being incredibly suspicious of Astarion and thinking him whiny about his past, to feeling a kinship with him because of their pasts filled with cruelty once Dalamus realizes that his past was, indeed, cruel. They're Double Trouble when together in battle, and share a similar sense of dark humor. They bicker like divorcees who still care a great deal about each other.

He goes from being distrustful and even fearful of Shadowheart (as a Trickery Domain Cleric), to appreciating her practicality and sarcastic wit. He also finds her bickering with Lae'zel and Astarion incredibly amusing and will egg them on sometimes.

He goes from being annoyed by Karlach's unquenchable cheer and zest for life, to admiring her ability to see the bright side of everything. Her hope is contagious and she helps him to see that he's not just an outcast, but a survivor, and now he's free. She also likes to show him new things for them to enjoy together.

He goes from being aggravated by Wyll's heroic attitude to admiring his determination to Do the Right Thing even though evil choices are incredibly tempting and even sometimes more profitable, especially when being enforced by a devil.

Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc I don't know much about yet, so I can't say his opinions

Like a few characters, Dal goes through a religious change, which one can influence--carefully. One leads to a Bad End for him, while the other leads to a Good End, whether romantically involved with the player character or not.

Bonding scenes with him may include (idk how many there usually are): eating dinner and talking about food, seeing him work on stones, sitting with him while he stargazes, talking about the Underdark and what he misses about it, talking about the surface world and his difficulty adjusting to it, talking about his fear of being abandoned by Lolth and feeling alone, giving him a gift (maybe a particular stone, or a journal from a drow who left Lolth and found a better life [saving this idea actually 👀])

#missy rambles #like REALLY rambles #ooc #strighym companion

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moonctzeny · 3 years

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love to hate me

request: celebrity! jaehyun + enemies to lovers + “don’t you want to know how i feel?”

pairing: friends to enemies to lovers! jaehyun x female reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff... this fic has it all folks

word count: 7.514k

warnings: toxic behaviour, public sex, light restraining, jaehyun pulls a ‘white boy punching the wall’ at some point

summary: “You and Jaehyun meet as SM trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you deicde to leave the company and pursue a solo career. When you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. Your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other”

a/n: this is the longest it has ever taken me to finish a fic.. I have a love-hate relationship with this (no pun intended XD). I hope whoever requested this likes it!

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

Of-fucking-course you had to bump into him out of all people at the vending machine. All you wanted was a drink to refresh you before you got up on stage, and now you have to deal with Mr. Too Good For This World and his relentless teasing. His eyes, lit up by an amusement that was also evident in his smirk, stayed glued on your body, raking up and down at it for a second too long. Not that you didn’t like it.

“Stare much?”, you bark at him in hopes of snapping him out of his trance, and push through him to punch in the code of your favorite drink. But alas, he always had a comeback ready on the edge of his lips.

“You look ridiculous”, he states and you have to admit that your outfit, though fitting for the Halloween special of today’s music show, was way different than anything else he had ever seen you in. Reincarnated as Dorothy Gale for the night, your stylists had chosen a short, light blue checkered dress, with red stilettos that gave a sexy twist to the character’s ruby slippers. Hair neatly braided in two pigtails, decorated by ribbons and topped off by glittery pink makeup. The image of innocence. Jaehyun had to laugh.

“Says the man dressed up as Woody”

It was unfair, you admitted, how good he looked in that stupid outfit. His hair was gelled back, a few strands framing his handsome face strategically. The yellow shirt fitted him like a glove, its bright colour lighting him up as well. And those jeans, tight in all the right places, just melted over the muscles of his thighs. The ones that you’ve come undone on one too many times.

“So”, he lilts, giving you a once over before lowering both the volume and pitch of his voice, “want a ride?”

You scoff, sparing him an incredulous look, “on what horse, cowboy?”

He doesn’t reply, only points with his eyes to his crotch that is undeniably sporting a visible tent, and you gasp when you see the outline of his dick twitching under your stare.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun”, you mutter with a disgusted look on your face before picking up the almost forgotten beverage that the vending machine had barfed out for you. The boy mentioned, however, was unfazed.

“They don’t call me Woody for nothing”

Almost choking at the drink that was supposed to calm you down, you catch his eyes rolling at you through your third cough. Well, that ruins one of your favourite childhood movies. “Don’t pretend to be a prude. Now are we going to fuck before you get on stage of not?”

You can clearly remember the first time you met Jung Jaehyun alone. You always spotted him somewhere in the SM buildings, joking around with his future bandmates, barely ever without company. As a fellow vocal trainee, he introduced himself to you as Yoonoh, filling up the awkward silence while your vocal teacher prepared the music sheets for the both of you to rehearse.

You were thankful the two of you always got paired up together. Jaehyun was charming, easy to be around, funny. He was a model SM trainee with the otherworldly looks he possessed, almost impossible for anyone’s eyes not to follow him when he entered a room. Radiant porcelain skin, soft brown locks, and a dimpled smile that made your heart melt in seconds.

You can also clearly remember the first time you had the privilege of hearing him sing. Jaehyun had a beautiful baritone voice, one that contradicted his flower boy image but matched his manly personality perfectly. The four walls of the small practice room resonated with his sound, that was stable and smooth like honey. The lessons were challenging but Jaehyun made them bearable through spending time with him. Maybe it was your shared struggles, or how you were always tired and vulnerable when you saw him. Maybe it was those damned dimples, but your heart always beat faster when you were around him.

“Sometimes I get discouraged”, he confides in you in that same room, hours later, early into the morning now. The vocal lesson stretched on longer than expected, leaving you two sitting on the floor, sharing a cup of lemon-honey tea to soothe your vocal chords. You let your head rest to the leather couch behind you as you stare into his handsome features one by one. What time was it? Shouldn’t you be back at your dorms by now? It didn’t matter, this was one of those moments when time seems to stop and life seems unreal. When the only thing that you care about is the person standing next to you, and whatever it is they have to tell you.

“I fear that I will never get to debut. There’s handsome guys all over the company. I just don’t know if my skills are enough.”

You thought he was crazy for thinking that way, wanted to scream at him that he’s just perfect and more than enough for the company, or for anything in this world for that matter. But Jaehyun was reserved, the type to always mask his true feelings behind a smile and you were more than glad that he finally opened up to you, that he saw you as someone trustworthy. You didn’t want to dismiss his feelings, so you just pet his hair while you listened to his concerns.

As you mindlessly gaze at the rainy weather outside, a couple of droplets following their own path down the froggy window remind you that time does run by. Even if every day seemed the same, following the same routine, going to the same classes over and over again.

Jaehyun had this sad look that contorted his pretty face and you hated it, reaching up to massage away the wrinkles between his eyebrows. You don’t know which godly creature made the hourglass of time freeze this moment, nor did you know why Jaehyun leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss. Maybe it was his way of saying thank you for keeping your ears and heart open for him, for listening to him when he needed it most.

It felt so lovely while it lasted, two young people leaning on each other during an uncertainty that anchored them far away from their emotional shoreline. But life as a trainee isn’t a fairytale and falling in love can have serious ramifications. So you promise to each other that this will be a one time thing, and then you never speak of this night ever again.

Unsurprisingly enough, Jaehyun got to successfully debut, yet you didn’t have the same luck. The company had plans of focusing on their new boy group, thus postponing your debut for an uncertain amount of time. It was hard for you to decide to switch labels, to throw away the years of hope and dedication you had pinned on this company but the faith you placed on yourself was stronger.

It’s years later when you finally get to promote as a solo artist in a different company, and you are happy to say that the decision you made all those years ago was the right one. The exposure you got wasn’t the same as being in a Big 3 company, however leaving SM entertainment has its pros. Flexible schedule, less scrutiny, great creative freedom over your work.

This wasn’t the first time you have come across your old trainee buddy. Jaehyun had multiple comebacks in a year, so it was only natural that his group’s and your promotions would sometimes overlap. You were only a rookie, and NCT turned out to become pretty popular, so of course the wins were always tied to their names.

The first time you walked past him in the hallways, dark makeup and professional styling making you both almost unrecognizable, you expected a wave, small talk, maybe some reminiscing of the old times. Instead, you got a cold stare or at best, an arrogant smirk coupled with a “Do better next time”. It was shocking to you how much Yoonoh, the boy with the shy smile and awkward social skills, would turn into such a stranger.

How you always ended up sneaking out with him to have a quickie in one of the ready rooms, was beyond you. He rushed you inside before checking both sides of the hallway, cautious to hide from any curious eyes. The coast was clear and Jaehyun doesn’t like to waste time, so he pins you against the door he just closed behind him, face dipped in your neck. You can feel his fingers dancing on the skin of your thighs, eager to explore what is hidden under your frilly skirt, and their delicacy in contrast to his feverish kisses sends a shiver down your spine.

One pretty whine from your lips, then two, three and you can feel Jaehyun smile deviously against your neck. The softness is too enticing for him to resist, so he nips at it skillfully, trying to get a reaction out of you. He recognizes that you have plenty of talent as a singer, yet the symphonies you sing out for him in those little sessions seem to be his favorite.

“Jaehyun, cut it out. I’m going on stage in like, 20 minutes”

“Turn me on then”

Wasn’t he the one that basically flashed you in the middle of the cafeteria for just existing? Isn’t it his hard on that digs against your lower stomach? The demand made you mad, and you wanted nothing more than to entice him with a nice blowjob, only to take a big, strong bite off that cock of his. But see, you had a full face of makeup on and your career is way more important than a fuckboy, so you’ll have to get creative.

Flipping him around so that he’s the one trapped between you and the door, you start to suck on his collarbones , then nibble at the tender flesh. He seems distracted enough by it so that you open the button of his jeans and fully remove his belt from their loops with no objections. Palming him over his boxers to keep him entranced, you manage to bring his wrists together, wrapping the leather around them, then lastly fastening them in place.

His eyes widen in shock when he realizes that he’s too late, wiggling his hands in a futile attempt to free himself. Your laugh is sadistic, making the hairs on his arms stand on edge and you gloat in the effect you have on him.

Giving your palm a good lick, you form a ring with your fingers, wrapping them around the base of his member. He hisses and drops his head back, thudding loudly against the wall. His cock enlarges and reddens as you move your hand up and down, changing the pressure according to his reactions. Jaehyun isn’t one to express himself freely but there is not much he can do to stop the low moans leaving his lips. Not when you rub circles over his tip with the soft skin of your palm.

He looks so fucking good, all squirmy and desperate and trying to hold himself from saying ‘please’. You almost want to keep going, squeeze him more until he whines and begs to cum, and admire the white beads dripping from his slit and covering your hand. Almost.

You halt your movements with a last strong stroke, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him. Jaehyun tentatively opens one eye to see why you have stopped, only to come across that bratty smile that he loves as much as he hates.

“You should have dressed up as a siren. Seducing people before they realize you are a man eating bitch”

“If you want someone to jerk you off you can go ask one of your little fangirls. I want to get fucked.”

“Let me go then. And you’ll wish you never did”

You scoff at his cockiness, nonchalantly freeing him from his constraints, and the way he immediately has a hold of your jaw reminds you of a predator eyeing its prey. His eyes have a crazy look in them, moving frantically over every part of your body like he can’t decide what to grab onto first. He decides on your hips, bending you over a table full of snacks and makeup tools and flyers of today’s schedule.

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”, he asks you with a peremptory voice that signifies you’d better shut up.

You hear shuffling behind you and assume it’s him slipping on a condom, so you make yourself more comfortable on the wooden surface. A hard slap on your ass jolts you alert.

“I asked you a fucking question”, Jaehyun presses brusquely and flips your skirt fully over your ass, pulling your panties down until they’re bunched up right over your knees.

“It’s fun”, you moan out, breathless both from the pleasure and the stinging feeling on your right cheek, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Was the room occupied by one of the artists that have already been on stage? Or will they barge in at any moment to find you bent over and pussy dripping for Jaehyun to finally dive inside you? He chuckled at the sight of you, eyes feasting off your naked body, your ass up just the way he likes it. Not so innocent anymore, huh?

He doesn’t reply to you, aligning himself against your slit and bottoming out in one go instead. Involuntarily, you let out a small screech, the sudden stretch catching you off guard.

“You better stay quiet, siren. Or maybe you would like it if people found us like this? Saw how good you take my cock whenever I ask”

You wanted to bite back at him, but the only sound you could make was a guttural moan. It was embarrassingly loud, and you fall forward to bite your fist and force yourself to shut up. It was effective, yet Jaehyun had other plans for you, pulling your pigtails towards him in a strong grip that has you against his chest in seconds.

“Nuh, uh, uh, siren”, he hums in your ear, his panting making his voice sound huskier and smokier than ever, “How about trying to stay quiet by using your willpower alone? That way it’s more- how did you call it? Fun.”

He slows down his pace momentarily, as if he’s giving you time to answer him. But the moment you open your mouth to talk back at him, he thrusts particularly hard inside you, forcing a whimper out of your lips.

“Fuck you, Jaehyun”

“As you wish”

Jaehyun was conceited and cocky and a dick, but he was also a good fuck. He kept at it with what seemed like all the energy in the world, fucking you against that table until you came all over him, and your legs gave out. It ended how it always did, with him moaning how fucking sexy you look and how much he hates you, and you swallowing your pride as you swallow his cum. You’d tell each other to fuck off and never bother the other again, until you meet up at the next comeback, to do this shit all over again.

And that’s how things would stay if it wasn’t for that goddamn phone call from your manager.

“...so we thought what better way to promote your new song by recording a duet with NCT’s Jaehyun?”

No, no, no this can’t be happening. No way. Anyone but him.

“Are you sure this is the only way we can promote me? Can’t I just go to variety programs like every other idol out there?”

“y/n, duets by different group members are one of the most efficient methods of promoting there is! And with NCT’s latest song topping the charts this will be a great opportunity for you. Taemin and Sunmi did it. Suzy and Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Punch-“

“Alright, okay, I get it”

“Besides, since you used to be an SM trainee they specifically asked for you. The directors made some pretty big compliments on your work”

Isn’t it a little too late now? Not like they didn’t have the chance to debut you, right? That being said, there isn’t much to oppose to decline SM’s offer; your manager is right and you know it. Saying no to Lee Sooman and giving up a popularity push like that is basically career suicide. Nor could you let your manager know about your and Jaehyun’s little adventures, minutes before you have to go on stage.

“Just send me the schedule. I don’t have to record with him, right?”

“Oh no, they’ll record his part first and then they’ll send it to us. But there will be a music video of course”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

There was this little monster of worriedness that was screaming inside your head, refusing to shut up. This collaboration isn’t going to be easy, but you didn’t want to let Jaehyun’s pettiness get in the way of your career. Fumbling with your phone in your hands, you kept removing and reinserting its case compulsively, over and over again, until you mustered the courage to take matters into your own hands.You knew his number was buried somewhere in your contacts.

you [16:35]: hey it’s me, y/n

Jung Yoonoh [16:50]: y/n who??

you [16:55]: y/n y/l/n? the girl whose guts you were inside in last week? we have a song coming up 😒

Jung Yoonoh [16:57]: oh y/n right

Jung Yoonoh [16:58]: thought you’d have deleted my number

Well you sure have deleted mine, you murmur with your blood boiling, regretting reaching out to him in the first place.

you [16:59]: i always hoard peoples contacts

you [17:00]: old habits die hard i guess

Jung Yoonoh [17:00]: like the habit of me being inside your guts?

You gasp out after reading his last message, hands awkwardly juggling your phone until you’ve forced yourself to calm down. After waiting for a while, until your face has reached its previous temperature, you feel focused again, and type out your original intentions for this conversation.

you [17:05]: this isn’t what i texted you about.

you [17:07]: we have this project coming up and while I know we aren’t exactly on the best terms, this comeback is very important for me

you [17:08]: and i don’t want to fuck it up

Jung Yoonoh [17:10]: kitty cat, relax. maybe this is a brand new word for you but i know what professionalism is

you [17:10]: don’t you ever and i mean ever call me that again

you [17:11]: glad to see we are on the same page

You didn’t expect a message back, nor did you get one. All you could do from now on, was pray that the promotions would go smoothly and Jaehyun wouldn’t do anything stupid that would jeopardize your collaboration.

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

And the day you dreaded finally came. The first day of filming for the music video.

You had already finished recording the song, a bittersweet balad about two lovers who lost their way, only for their paths to cross again. When you listened to the demo for the first time, it only took three notes from Jaehyun’s pre-recorded verse to spread goosebumps on your skin. His voice was deeper and even more developed than you remember. Long forgotten memories, shoved deep inside your brain so as not to leave a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, came flooding up again. But things have changed since then.

The sky was crying rain and lightning, fitting to the storm inside your head. Normally you'd be excited to film a music video, bubbling with energy and unable to contain a smile. Today, all you could do was let your teeth abuse the cuticles of your left thumb, until little drops of blood ruined the fresh manicure you got for the shoot.

Following your manager inside the studio, you take a quick glance at all the props the creative directors have prepared. They were very intricate, filled with all different types of flowers everywhere. Some of the fake rooms looked like classrooms, two others were decorated like teenage bedrooms. It was a lot more than you have anticipated.

“The song will be part of a drama OST, that’s why the budget is higher than usual”, your manager tells you as if he was reading your mind.

He leads you to the changing room, where you try on different outfits your stylist has chosen for you, while simultaneously being briefed on the concept of the music video. It’s kinda cheesy and cute, with you and Jaehyun posing as high-school students falling in love. Certain scenes of the drama, whose plot matches the music video’s, will intercept in between.

You’re seated on the makeup chair, sunk in the uneasiness caused by your co-star. Jaehyun had arrived a few minutes after you, his bare face more handsome than you’ve ever looked in your most glamorous state and you can’t help but stare at him. He is all polite smiles and bows to the staff, and even gives you a formal greeting.

You’re not sure why you just can’t bring yourself to stop your legs from shaking as the makeup artist patiently tries to apply a rosy blush on your cheekbones. It’s like you’re scared that everyone will see right through the both of you, somehow enter your brain and find out that you’re replaying your last encounter with Jaehyun in the music show’s waiting room in your head. As you try to read through his expression, to see if he’s nearly as nervous as you are, you defeatedly can’t decode what’s going on inside his head. Not like you ever could.

You glance at both you and Jaehyun through the mirror, admiring the youthful makeup. Blushy cheeks and innocent eyes of two teenagers in love, masking the raw lust between two nemesi. It couldn’t stray any further from the truth.

A staff member leads both you and Jaehyun (who is refusing to spare even one look your way) back to the main set. The director is passionately explaining what he wants to see from you in your first scene, but you can barely focus with Jaehyun’s eyes burning holes through your school girl outfit. You block him out and walk inside the ‘classroom’, spotting the cameras and sitting on your designated seat, while you wait for your signal to start.

Of course, you had acted before. Yes, you had expected for the director to ask you for some more intimate moments with your co-star. But when Jaehyun passed you a “love note” from the desk in front of you, looking all blushy and shy and with his dimples showing, you felt that the role of crushing schoolgirl became a little too easy for you to act out.

And maybe, just maybe he was feeling the same way too. He looked pretty flustered when he saw you dancing across class, shifting restlessly in his seat when you bent forward to tie your shoelaces. Whether you did it on purpose or not, was a question your ego didn’t allow you to answer truthfully.

Most of the individual shots would be handled at a different shoot, so all you had to do was get over this one day with him. That’s what you repeated yourself over and over again. And you did pretty well, smiling charmingly at the camera, with the director praising you for your “innocent look”. You didn’t miss the scoff slipping from Jaehyun’s lips but you were good at ignoring it, focusing on getting through the different scenes in one-shot.

You were currently leaning your body against the wall, playing with your hair while Jaehyun glances down at you, like a boy that is ready to confess to his first love.

“y/n, I need you to give me something more shy, more bashful”, the director yells eagerly, but you can barely hear him, too focused on regulating your breathing. The look your co-star is giving you right now might seem loving and pure to the staff, but you know all too well the motives hidden behind his facade. It’s the calm before the storm, the silence he purposefully keeps to make you squirm, right before he whispers the most sinful propositions in your ears.

Reading him like an open book, you stand still as he leans closer, just enough so that no one besides you get to hear his words.

“Come on y/n, can’t you act bashful? Or is it impossible for you to get embarrassed after getting fucked against the window of a TV station’s building?”

Clearing your throat, you’re suddenly hyper aware of every single sound and movement in the room. Suffocating, even in the light clothes you were wearing, and desperately trying to mute out his words that bring you back to the day he was repenting.

“When you were pressed up against that glass, moaning my name, all exposed for anyone that simply looked up to see, you weren’t too shy, were you?”

You raise your palm to wipe a bead of sweat that has collected on your temple, and breathe deeply through your nose, as if a good pump of oxygen would cool off the sudden heat between your legs.

“Shut up Jaehyun”, you simply hiss through your front teeth, but he isn’t done yet.

“You know I can’t hold myself when I see you in skirts. So pretty. And you love to tease me in them too, I’ve noticed. Flashing me again and again until you get to suckle on my dick”

You were sure his voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the thought of anyone accidentally prying into your conversation had your whole body raising in temperature. The heat didn’t take long to reach your cheeks and you couldn’t remember the last time your legs felt like jelly, as they do now.

“Perfect y/n, that’s exactly what I’m looking for!”

You blinked back at Jaehyun a couple times, your mind trying to process that the director is cheering you on instead of scolding you to focus. The trembling hands, the fast-paced heartbeat, your big doe eyes. Though involuntarily, you had nailed the scene.

“You’re welcome”, Jaehyun mouths at you just as the staff announces a break. He scurries off to his dressing room without a word, as if he hadn’t just spewed his dirtiest of thoughts on set. It was almost as if he was daring you to follow him, but it’s not like he had left you a choice. You were fuming.

“Jaehyun”, you called out to him strictly but he didn’t acknowledge you, only walked further inside the small room with his name written neatly on the door. He was removing some of the heavier jewellery, rubbing the red lines they had left on his neck and wrist, momentarily catching your eyes on the mirror's reflection. They were misty, unreadable, and with how unpredictable you knew he could be, you decided to close the door behind you.

“Closing the door?”, he muses and in just a few long strides he has managed to trap you between his body and the wooden surface. It is reminiscent of your last meeting at the music show, and the memory of you tying him up doesn’t help with the organizing of your thoughts. “What are you planning on doing to me in here?”

You point one finger against his chest, not enough to create any real distance between you, but it comforts you nonetheless.

“What the fuck was that out there? What happened to professionalism?”

“Relax, kitty cat. I was just helping you act better”. His eyes stayed glued on your hips, once again making you all wound up and jumpy under his stare, “And it worked. You should be thanking me”

“I. Told. You.”, you started, tapping your finger on his sternum to emphasize each word, “Never call me that again. Today’s already hard as it is, why do you have to make it harder?”

He takes one more step towards you, his chest now touching yours and your hand that separated you lands involuntarily on his right peck. As if his presence wasn’t overwhelming enough, you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh, and for a moment you worry he can feel how wet you really are under your skirt. His voice is a low, a deep rumble.

“I don’t know. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

“You are unbelievable”, you scowl at him and free yourself from his trap. You turn to the big mirror to avoid looking at him anymore, and you come to the embarrassing realization of how fucked out you look right now. You had to get out of there as soon as possible, before you do anything stupid and lose any trace of self control left in you. But not before you gave Jaehyun an earful.

“What I meant was that I am out there, being paid to be all lovey-dovey with you. This is not something easy for me you know. It’s basically prostitution.”

You catch Jaehyun’s eyes in his reflection, and for a fleeting moment they turn a colour that you hadn’t seen them in for a long time. Hurt? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it was gone in a second, replaced by that smile that made him both irresistibly smackable and fuckable at the same time.

“Did it cross your tiny brain that maybe someone could hear you? Staff leaks information all the time! If they found out we were fucking…”

“Were? Past tense?”

“Are. Will be. Whatever.” You sigh, defeated, hiding your eyes with your palms as you face him once again. “Like I said, this is important to me. So no more dirty talk on set. Okay?”

Jaehyun avoided your glance, from embarrassment or uninterest maybe. “Okay”

You continue to sit there silently, but your head is so occupied with a million thoughts that you don’t notice. How you will get through the rest of the shooting, whether your manager is looking for you or not, the coldness of the glass Jaehyun had pressed you against that day. The only thing that snapped you out of it, was him suddenly taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”, you ask panicking, but you can’t dismiss the pool of excitement in your belly.

“We have a wardrobe change after the break, remember? And since you refuse to leave my changing room..”

You clear your throat, trying your hardest to rip your eyes away from his abdomen, that you’ve so keenly marked with love bites before. His naked skin must have monopolized your attention way more than you realized, as you can’t remember when he slithered his way closer to you, towering over your height.

“Stare much?”, he almost growls, arousal dripping from his voice.

Every fiber of your being wanted to lurch forward, glide your fingers through his hair and start nibbling at those pretty lips of his. The sexual tension, amplified by the argument you just had, was filling the room like a thick liquid would fill a cup. One more drop, one more second of his staring and it would overflow. It felt so real, that you could feel that drop landing on your forehead. Then another one on your cheek, and that’s when you realized that what you felt was real.

“What the-?”, Jaehyun mumbles as he stares up at the ceiling, a big wet spot staining it and allowing the water drops to slowly wet his styled locks. As you start to put two and two together, someone knocks loudly on the door, making you both jump one feet away from the other.

“Get undressed”, a high-pitched male voice that you recognize as Jaehyun’s manager calls through the door, “the rain is ruining the set. It’s a wrap for today”

———————————————————————

A soft touch on your lower back, an even softer breath making your ears tingle. A tentative kiss on your neck that’s full of purpose and makes you shiver.

And then another touch, this time more south on your body. Fingertips grazing over your sensitive clit. Easily moving through your wetness and finally dipping inside of you. That baritone voice.

“This pussy is mine, isn’t it, kitty cat?”

You look up to meet the face of the familiar voice, only to meet Jaehyun’s baby brown eyes. The pleasure was enough to make you ignore the despised nickname, flowing intensely through your body. You let out a desperate moan, gripping his arms to keep your balance. His fingers are now dragging through your walls and you clench around them instinctively, confused but enamored by his touch. You are falling apart.

“Jaehyun? What are you doing?”

“I want to make love to you”

“Love? But you hate me”

He plants another kiss on the slope of your neck, his hands picking up in pace and making you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Love. Hate. Is there really any difference when I’m here, ready to please you? Willing to make you feel things you have never felt before?”

“You already do”, you admit, only seconds away from your orgasm. The bliss is so close you can almost taste it, but for now you choose to taste his lips. They are so soft and warm that you realize you haven’t kissed Jaehyun since that night at the practice room. How you miss him. Not the group visual, not the idol, not even Jaehyun. Yoonoh.

“Yoonoh”, you moan out against his lips as the pleasure overtakes you, a low buzz humming in your ears, “mmm yes, Yoonoh”

“Who the fuck is Yoonoh?”

You finally wake up, your manager shaking you awake being the first thing you see. The sun’s morning rays are peeking through your blinds, warming your skin in lines. Your phone’s ignored alarm clock is still buzzing on top of your nightstand.

“No one. I’m awake, thanks”

Fuck. That makes it what? The fourth night in a row you dreamt about him?

“Get, up. Quickly. We’re late”

You groaned at the banging of your head that was caused by you getting up so fast. It was early into the morning, as you had to get ready for the mv’s second shooting day. The heavy rainfall wouldn’t allow for the filming to continue for another week, yet aided your growing anxiety of having to encounter Yoon- Jaehyun again.

You felt a little stupid, like a kid that goes to middle school for the first time, anxious but full of butterflies in your stomach in the thought of seeing him again. You weren’t sure who the anger, that came with the inability to control the fresh feelings bubbling from your dream, should be directed at. Your manager for booking you this job? Jaehyun for making it his goal to have you dripping wet on set? You, for letting it all affect you so much?

You decide on the former, giving your poor manager the cold shower for forcing you to deal with the problems you’ve caused yourself. Checking your phone, you realise that you are, indeed, late, and wonder how quick you’re going to have to make your morning shower.

“Is Jaehyun and his team there already?”, you ask your manager as nonchalantly as you could, feigning mildly interested in his answer.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you? The other team asked for the shootings to continue separately”. You felt your stomach drop all the way down to your condo’s basement. And the icing on the cake: “Jung Jaehyun’s request”

Maybe your manager wasn’t as clueless to your electricity, or maybe it was your sudden impulse to pluck every loose thread of the pyjama top you were wearing that made him sense the discomfort following what he’d just said. He plops next to you on your bed, boards creaking in the silent room and you feel his rough hands patting you on the back.

“I’m sure he had an overlap in schedules and needed a break, nothing to do with you”

But you knew better, and you knew your palms wouldn’t stop itching unless you picked up your fucking phone and sent him a message.

you [06:30]: i heard you can’t make it to set today. everything ok?

You wish you never did. The radio silence from his number was way worse than any insult, any form of teasing he could give you on set. You even tried calling him, desperate for an answer, a closure even. Maybe he was busy. Maybe the shooting took longer than expected. Maybe he wasn’t avoiding you; one of his managers uploaded his latest story on his instagram, not him. Maybe at the end of the week he would get back to you.

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

Going to his dorm unannounced was not a good idea. Waiting for someone to open the door for you, you hope his members will recognise you from your trainee days, or those rare nights Jaehyun sneaked you in when you were both lonely and in need of a… well, whatever you two were.

You’re starting to worry that whoever saw you from the peephole thought you were a sasaeng and called security, when Mark opens the door. His eyes are wide open behind his glasses, clearly not expecting you and immediately yelling for his ‘Jaehyun hyung’.

Soon, the called male arrives at the apartment’s entrance, annoyed for being interrupted from whatever it was he was doing. “What is it, me and Jungwoo are watching the season fina-“

As if Mark suddenly turned invisible, Jaehyun walks right past him, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to his room without another word.

Jungwoo, engrossed with the aforementioned show’s season finale on his computer screen, tries to cover up his naked torso in panic when he notices you.

“Get out.”, Jaehyun orders him, and the younger man knows that his tone is not one to be argued with. It triggers the cold sweat that makes your clothes stick closer to your skin and forces your heartbeat to quicken, pumping blood all over your body. The door closes, leaving you both alone with only the sound of Jungwoo’s laptop still playing in the background. A lighthearted scene that is too oxymoronic against the tension that is just palpable at this point. What the hell were you thinking coming here?

“What the hell were you thinking coming here?”, Jaehyun speaks your thoughts out loud, and you wince at how empty your head is with excuses.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“What?”, he asks dumbly, hoping you would avoid asking again.

“Was it that hard to text me back? Am I such a waste of your time?”

Jaehyun seems angry at your confrontation, his bad mood escalating with every word that is leaving your mouth. He still avoids to look at you, toying with some plushies and decorations next to his bedpost. You realize you never had time to really notice them, barely recognizing them. You always entered the room blindly, pressed up against Jaehyun’s body and with his lips all over your neck, then left as soon as the sex was over. His apathy was infuriating.

One by one, you start to remove all of your outerwear, dropping your clothes on the floor until you’re left in only your bra and jeans. Jaehyun stares at you incredulously, then at the pile of clothes on the floor, unable to make out the reasoning behind your impromptu stripping.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked. Seems to be the only time you can actually pay attention to me.”

You reach for the buttons of your jeans, only able to unzip it halfway before Jaehyun has you pinned against the wall behind you, his fingers cool and pressing lightly against your neck.

“I-I fucking hate you!”, he cries, punching the surface to release some of the steam, and lets go of the hold on your neck almost completely. How tempted he is, to just fuck your right against that wall, pour out his anger by pouring out his cum inside you, then ignore each other like you always do.

It’s the easy thing to do, keeping the toxic circle going. All barking and fucking and no real problem gets resolved in the end. He wouldn’t even call a cab for you, preferring to be hated for something he wasn’t than to be rejected for showing the real him. You would still have no idea about his feelings towards you, going around saying how awful he was while asking for a round two. But Jaehyun was tired.

“Can’t you tell that I am trying to distance myself from you?”, he sighs and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound so emotionally exhausted.

“Why do you dislike me so much? We used to be friends and then one day you-“

“Friends? Just friends?”, he interrupts you with a chuckle and a sarcastic puff through his nose, and you shake your head.

“If you also think that what we had was more special than a common friendship then why act like you don’t know me?”

“You were the one who wanted to ‘forget about anything happening and never telling a soul about it’, remember?”

“I thought we came to a mutual agreement! I was just trying to save our careers and it worked Jaehyun, you got to debut and I-“

“And you just threw away everything we had like it was the easiest thing to do! Do you ever want to know how I feel, y/n? First you want nothing to do with me, left the company without even saying goodbye. Then I try to forget about you, become an asshole to keep you out of my life and suddenly you want to jump my bones. One day you just play blind to everything, asking for professionalism and now I’m the one ignoring you? What the fuck do you want? A fuck buddy? A professional? A friend?”

“I want you, Yoonoh. Fuck, I just want you”

You’re not sure which one of you initiates the kiss. His lips are as plump and kissed as hard as you recalled, a couple of tears staining your cheeks that you didn’t realize you were holding back. It felt so right, the way his head pushed and pulled away from yours, always inviting you back to him. One hand was situated over the dimples of your waist, the other lost between your hair, untangling it gently. You decided to lay yours over his heart, feeling its tempo and calming yourself down.

You kiss for what seems like an eternity, so drunk in bliss that you can’t remember how you made it through life without Jaehyun’s taste all over your tongue. When he pulls away from your lips, you almost whine, but his fingertips dabbing at the soft skin of your cheeks feel just as comforting.

“I don’t want us to be like this anymore”, you whisper to him and he nods encouragingly, holding you even closer. “I’m sorry for not reaching out to you all these years ago, I just thought ‘What would a brand new idol want to do with a failed trainee like me’-“

Jaehyun brings your fingers to his lips, kissing all your knuckles one by one and you think you’re gonna burst at the seams. “You weren’t a failure, you were the best thing to happen to me back then”. His voice is so sincere that you don’t dare question the veracity of what he’s saying and you let him continue. “When I saw you again I was so bitter, I decided to turn off my feelings. I think I get too comfortable in that role. I put it on for me, my members, my fans even”, he stops then, laughing sadly, “it’s how I finally got you”

It was your turn to open up his eyes to the truth, holding his face between your hands and admiring its beauty.

“That’s not true. I kept staying because I knew what was hidden behind all that armor. I guess, the sex was the only way to get closer to you”

“Not because I’m good?”, he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and you can feel his dimples forming under your fingers.

“Eh, you’re pretty good too”

He starts pecking your neck, his smile obvious in his kisses and you squeal when he lifts you to his bed. Bouncing on the hard mattress, you let him lay his body weight over yours as he gives you a million traces of his love.

“So, I’m guessing this means we start over?”, he asks reluctantly as he emerges from your half naked body and you hold back from cooing at him.

“I thought you loved to hate me?”

“I think I hate it, but I love you”

#neosmutcollective #Jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #jaehyun fluff #nct

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lockewrites · 4 years

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Our Own Entertainment

Astarion x F!OC || NSFW (Not actual smut, but very suggestive foreplay) || 2338 words AO3 & FF

Aurella and Astarion struggle to keep themselves entertained during a rather boring party.

The campsite was bustling with tieflings, singing and dancing, party already in full swing before Aurella and the rest of them arrived. Zevlor stood at the entrance, greeting them as they approached.

“I hope you’ll pardon them,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “They meant to wait for you all. But it’s been some time since they’ve had cause to celebrate.”

A sudden burst of laughter sounded near the fire, and Zevlor smiled, even as Aurella walked past him with little acknowledgement.

“I’m glad to see they haven’t forgotten how,” she heard him say to Serilda.

Aurella headed for her tent, eager to strip off her pack and armor and change into clothes she inexplicably stumbled on when visiting the tieflings the first time. She wore a deep red, linen shirt that was slightly too large; it hung loose around her chest, but she shrugged and tucked it into her waistband.

Returning to the party, her gaze fell to a pile of crates that the tieflings seemed to gravitate toward. She waded through the mass of already inebriated people and reached the boxes, smiling at the bottles upon bottles of what had to be alcohol. Without a second thought, she grabbed a few bottles; she’d need them if Volo’s singing wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

Bottles in tow, Aurella climbed onto the rocks near the center of camp and settled down on the cold surface, giving herself a good view of the party’s going-ons. Serilda was no longer near Zevlor, in fact, Serilda was nowhere to be found. It didn’t surprise Aurella; her sister didn’t seem the type to appreciate the chaos of drunks or fun in general. With a long swig, and a sour grimace afterward, Aurella simply watched. Her lip curled with every sip, the vinegar-tasting wine disturbing her senses, but drink enough, and she knew she’d no longer taste it.

The children ran around, occasionally bumping into a staggering adult, some of the others danced to Volo’s ‘song’ and others ignored him entirely, playing games that involved drinking if they lost and drinking if they won. Lae’zel was chatting with Wyll, and the way he leaned toward her made it seem like he was quite interested; Gale shared his thoughts and likely unwelcome history lessons with two of the tieflings, one carried a lute; and Shadowheart was probably still standing near her tent behind Aurella, keeping to herself. And it seemed someone had a mind to keep her company; the scuffing of boots on rock and a soft grunt sounded behind her shortly before kicking aside her empty bottles.

“Well,” Astarion’s soft voice said, now beside her, “this is rather boring.” He sat next to her, his armor also gone and replaced with a dark tunic.

“Just sitting here?” she asked. “Or the party in general.”

“Both.”

“To be fair,” she said, interrupting herself with a drink, “I’m only here until I get drunk enough to cause issues.”

He chuckled. “Do you really need to be drunk for that?”

She shook her head. “No. But it provides me an excuse for when Serilda inevitably scolds me.”

“She certainly seems the sort.” He took one of her bottles and pulled out the cork before taking a drink.

Aurella could feel his eyes on her, and just as she glanced at him, he turned away.

“You know,” he said in between sips, his tone growing contemplative, “I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He took another drink and scowled, his lip curling just enough to crinkle his nose. “I hate it. This is awful.”

She laughed. “I completely agree. Though, slaughtering the goblins was fun.”

“True,” he replied with a smile. “That was fun.”

“I’m sure there’s more fun to be had. Relax and try to enjoy yourself.”

“Enjoy myself?” he remarked, his sneer returning. “There’s a worm in my brain, I’m surrounded by idiots, and all I’ve got to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar. All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips a moment. “Vampires are strong, right?”

His brow raised, and there was a look of amused intrigue at the question. “Of course, darling. Why do you ask?”

“Can you throw this high into the air?” She handed him one of the full bottles of wine. “Somewhere over Volo’s head.”

Astarion hesitated but eventually stood, eyeing Volo before looking at the empty air above him and launching the bottle just as requested.

While still sitting, Aurella lifted her hand and pulled it back, a red light emanating from her palm for just a moment before she thrust it forward, releasing a blast of magic. It caught the bottom of the bottle, bursting the glass and pouring wine all over Volo and his closest audience members.

They shrieked and shouted at the pair who simply let out barks of laughter.

“Oh, sometimes it’s the simplest of things,” Astarion said.

Aurella continued laughing, ignoring the angry words being screamed at them. One of the men hurled a bottle at Aurella, she stopped laughing just in time to see Astarion’s hand reach in front of her and catch it. She violently flinched and lost her balance.

“Shit!”

Unable to catch herself on anything, she slipped off the rock and landed with a hard grunt between the stone and a log. She rubbed the back of her head and groaned as she sat up.

Astarion stood on the other side of the log, laughing hysterically. “That was quite the entertainment!” he said.

“Which part?” she asked, still rubbing her back. “Drenching Volo or me falling?”

“Oh, take your pick.”

“Arse.”

He laughed again and offered his hand; she took it, the cold of his skin still jarring to her. Now on her feet, she brushed off her backside and pulled a twig out of her hair.

“I had meant to tell you earlier, my dear,” he began, voice taking a low, husky tone as he straightened her shirt and let his fingers linger, “that red certainly suits you.”

His fingers drifted up her sternum and to her neck, pushing aside her blonde hair and leaving a trail of cold; he stopped where two puncture wounds marred her skin, barely brushing over them before pulling his hand away. She suppressed a shiver and caught herself from leaning for his absent touch, instead plastering a smirk on her lips; the pain of her fall was entirely forgotten.

“You know,” he began, returning her grin, “rather than throw yourself off any more rocks, we could always amuse ourselves in other ways.”

“Are you going to throw yourself off a rock next?” she asked, crossing her arms. “That’d be rather amusing.”

He rolled his eyes. “There are far better ways to wind up bloodied and bruised,” he replied. “Just you and me. Getting a little closer, so to speak.”

She sucked in her lip, appearing to contemplate her answer. “Maybe,” she finally said. “If you say ‘please.’”

His brow furrowed, but the smile remained. “What?”

Tilting her head, Aurella said, “I fell off a boulder, and you laughed at me. My ego’s hurt. I could use a little begging.”

The smirk softened, and his eyes widened as his eyebrows reached up toward his hairline. “Please.” His hungry grin immediately returned.

She leaned her body toward him, ignoring the heat building in her cheeks; her hand reached out and hovered just over his waistband, taunting him a bit before jabbing his stomach with her finger.

"Okay." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as he shook his head.

"Cheeky little pup." He pulled away from her. "Let's wait until things quiet down."

"All right."

"Now, how to kill time?" he muttered, looking past Aurella.

She turned toward the mass of tieflings. "I don't know about you," she said, "but there's an interesting game of cards going on over there, and I see a few coins on the table. I wouldn't mind winning some gold from drunkards." She glanced back at him. "Or horny vampires."

"I suppose there are worse ways to waste my time," he decided. "And just so you know, I cheat."

“So do I.”

The pair was side-eyed as they approached, Aurella’s stunt still fresh in their minds, but at the dropping of their coin purses on the table, the tieflings welcomed them. They were dealt in, and it didn’t take long for the two to settle into a routine of counting cards and stowing aces; the tieflings were too far into their drinks to notice, but Astarion and Aurella watched each other, tutting whenever they caught the other.

How much time had passed, Aurella wasn’t sure, but things had quieted, most of the tieflings were in bed or making their way there. Astarion had wandered off during their last hand, claiming to need some air. After a few more rounds, she dumped her winnings into her coin purse and disappeared into her tent. She waited, anticipation building with each torch being blown out and each body shuffling into a bedroll.

When silence finally fell, she left her tent and tiptoed around the scattered sleepers, following the general direction she’d seen Astarion take. She walked out of the clearing and found herself surrounded by trees and a chill the open area lacked, but she saw no sign of the vampire. Continuing forward, she took careful steps over the roots and around the tree trunks; she had no doubt he knew she was there, and he was simply toying with her.

Just as she considered turning back, a hand snaked around her waist, and a cold pair of lips whispered in her ear.

“I’ve been waiting,” he purred. He pulled her flush against him and brushed his lips against her neck. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”

Aurella placed her hand on the one resting on her waist. “I wouldn’t say you have me just yet.” Her stomach flipped as he chuckled against her skin, one of his fangs just barely grazing her.

“Don’t I?” he asked. “You’re here. And… I don’t think you want to talk.” He turned her around to face him, hand now pushing into her back, keeping their lower halves pressed together. “I think you want to be known,” he said, dipping a finger under her chin and keeping her fixated on him. “To be tasted.”

She smirked despite the color pooling in her face. “And what do you want?”

“What do any of us want?” he replied, his lips matching her own taunting. “Pleasure.” His thumb gently pushed her head to the side as he leaned down and kissed her neck, rougher than before. “Yours. Mine.” He spoke between breaths. “Our collective ecstasy.”

He pulled away from her, his eyes searching her face. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asked, quickly falling back into his perfect grin. “To lose yourself in me?”

The red of his eyes seemed brighter, more threatening, nearly every inch of her being screaming at her to flee, but all she felt was curiosity and a burning desire to give herself to him. She had no snarky retort, no witty remark. She simply breathed a soft, “Yes.”

“I thought so.”

His lips claimed hers as he grabbed either side of her waist and lifted her, guiding her legs around his torso. With a few steps forward, he balanced her against a tree as their mouths and tongues fought for dominance; he tasted of turned wine, the campfire’s smoke, and metallic threats. The bark of the tree dug into her skin through her top as he pushed against her, leaving no room between them. His hands ran down her torso and began pulling at her shirt, untucking it from her waistband.

Before he could slip under, Aurella reached back and gave a hard push against the tree, knocking them off-balance. They toppled backward, Astarion landing under her with a grunt, Aurella still straddling him.

He looked up at her, brow raised in confusion and then interest as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head, leaving her torso completely exposed. He sat up, digging into her waist for leverage, and pressed a cold kiss between her breasts before traveling upward to her throat.

Just as he pulled away to look at her, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward, kissing him again as she gathered her hair with her other hand and pulled it over one of her shoulders. They paused for breath, and she took the opportunity to bare her neck to him, the invitation obvious. His words had promised pleasure, but he could offer pain in equal measure and, in that moment, it was just the same to her.

The vampire’s eyes widened, pupils dilating further as his tongue flitted over his lips. He kissed her again and wrapped her in an embrace as he pulled them both back to the ground. In one fluid motion, without breaking the kiss, he rolled them over and braced himself on top of her; his mouth wandered from hers, lining her jaw then dipping below to her neck, kissing where he’d bitten her before.

Her fingers brushed against his ribs and moved up his side, reaching for his back; she felt something raised through his shirt, but he twisted slightly and grabbed her wrist, pinning it to the ground above her head just as his other wrapped around her neck.

She reached for his hand with hers, digging her nails into his skin, but she didn’t attempt to pull him away, rather she held him in place and forced him to grip her tighter.

After one last kiss to her neck, his fangs reopened his previous bite; the sharp pain quickly subsided to euphoria, and she let out a pleasured moan as he took his fill and she readied for her own.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate spoilers #aurella emberlin #fic: aadrabble #ship: you don't know you're falling #alxxiis actually wrote something

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its-belle-obviously · 4 years

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Wander

Summary: An unusual Companion provides hope for the next life Notes: I started playing Journey this month and absolutely fell in love with the game. I was inspired to write this piece after viewing a post by @xxkaibutsukoxx on Tumblr, which I will link to here and at the end of the fic. The two characters are inserts of my partner and me. I hope you enjoy the fic! Link to the post: https://xxkaibutsukoxx.tumblr.com/post/148790807072/video-here-if-you-want-to-watch-with-music I’ve placed the actual fic under the cut so I won’t clog up anyone’s dashboard:

I had walked these paths dozens of times before with various companions. Most were friendly and wanted to play and interact. Others disappeared partway through our Journey. A few taught me where to find treasures and secrets. They helped me discover all the glyphs and teach those that came after them. Discovering all the glyphs led me to earn the white robes, the Guide robes. Robes I wear with great honor and pride; for helping others brings me joy and great satisfaction.

For all my previous companions, this one stuck out to me. They switched between being completely silent despite my inquiries; to singing nonstop for minutes at a time. As we progressed along our way, they started to talk more. They didn’t seem to mind when I showed them something they may not have known about. I grew proud as their scarf got longer with each new symbol. They always gave a small thanks when I showed them our history. Taking a seemingly keen interest in the scenes revealed.

Their markings were those of someone’s first rebirth or second journey. I made sure to show them some of my favorite spots. As well as the best places to have a bit of fun. It felt even more special to share it with them. Almost like I was seeing them for the first time once again. The most memorable was also the first time I got a genuinely different response from them. It was at the end of the Memory Passage before the last slide.

We sat there side by side in the amber glow for several minutes. I was half afraid they had left, disappearing into the sand like others before. However, much to my delight, when I stood to continue our journey, they stood with me. They flew into the air giving off several full melodious notes. When they landed next to me again, I gave a beep and a twirl. I bounced once into the air and towards the slopes.

Together we jumped off the cliff, back down the slope. We slid down the slope in unison as the light faded, and the sand dimmed. Flying off the edge together, I gave off a single burst of song, knowing we both knew what was coming next. Their returning call was the last thing I saw before we plunged underground.

As a Guide, I made sure to steer them away from the Guardians. I knew not how their previous passing faired, but I knew this time they’d be safer. I was also determined to have fun with them. We flew around blue-lit tunnels as much as their scarf would allow and danced amongst the jellyfish. They drug me into a game of hide-and-seek as they weaved among the seaweed. We sang joyously as we played and found each other.

Once we reached where the first Guardian awoke, I fell back into my position. The harder I tried to be the sensible Guide, the more they tried to drag me back out of it. Whether it was flying dangerously close to a Guardian, causing me to let out a series of rapid notes and urge them away. Suddenly backtracking and disappearing from view, making me urgently look for them. Or even flying through arches from the ancient structures. Those made me the fondest as I would discover them sitting up there patiently. I could detect the smug tone to their chirp upon standing from meditation.

We made it to the Sanctuary with our scarves intact; my heart was pounding, unlike even my first trip past. We ascended the tower gleefully as I continued to show them secrets. There was something about the yellow weightlessness that really made them brighten. I showed them the secret history scene, and they played amongst the banners. I couldn’t help but watch them glide between the pillars with ease. They took a great interest in the giant cloth creature, riding them around twice before departing. The extraordinary creature hidden at the bottom held their attention for several minutes as they investigated it.

Standing before the snow, this time around was new. I wasn’t curious like I was my first journey. Nor was I apathetic like so many times before. I wasn’t even apprehension about the impending trials. Looking beside me at my companion, I was filled with excitement for the trek ahead. I was looking forward to seeing what they would do as we tried not to freeze. I wondered what game they would drag me into, what dance they would do. I was eager to see how they reacted to what was beyond the snow.

As we journeyed forward, I hadn’t known to anticipate just how strong my reactions would be. The Fire Pit was comforting and welcoming. We sat there for a long moment enjoying the warmth and each other’s company. The Windy Path made me far more nervous than they ever had before. I felt my heart stop when my companion was blown off the bridge, not restarting until I had dropped after them to see they were well. They had chirped reassuringly and circled around me to show they were well.

Moving through the Guardians’ area was harrowing. Even though we bypassed a large chunk to reach a far off history scene. Reemerging back onto the path, a Guardian spotted us. As a Guide, I jumped in front of it to shield my companion. Said companion didn’t say anything until we were back in safety. They then proceeded to berate me and show how scared they were by reenacting what happened. I let them speak, but I was firm in my opinion that it was my job to protect and guide them.

I knew they weren’t happy, but we continued on anyway. Occasionally my companion would pause to gripe at me. Soon enough, we reached the frozen seaweed. It seemed like they were either too cold to play this time or were still too upset to play. Either way, they didn’t speak again until we were in the next canyon. They circled me twice before slipping into a meditative pose. Confused but willing to comply, I sat with them. We were close enough that our symbols glowed upon our chests, and their scarf didn’t lose power despite the chill.

Eventually, they got back up, and we continued upon our merry way. It was then that I realized exactly where we were and what was ahead. My heart sank, and I slowed down to put off what was coming. They noticed I wasn’t keeping up and slowed down to match my pace. Our symbols glowing and our closeness providing little warmth. They asked me what was wrong with a single chirp, but by that point, we had reached the Wasteland.

I stopped in my tracks and stared at what was to come next. As they had been nearly this entire time, my companion stood next to me. They chirped lowly once. Twice. Three times before, I beeped back. They gave me one last big note before plunging past the gates. I was quick to follow, unwilling to let them go alone. Reluctant to let them out of my sight.

We sang back and forth to each other, none stop. We sang as the wind blew us sideways. We sang as the wind blew us backward. We sang as the wind blew our scarves away, our magic. We sang as it got harder to move. We sang as it got harder to breathe. We sang as our notes got lost in the gale. We sang even as we couldn’t hear each other anymore. We sang until we couldn’t.

We fell. Together. Side by side.

As the Ancestors came and spoke to me, rejuvenated me. All that was on my mind was seeing my companion again. Wondering if they were okay. If the Ancestors had already revived them. I was filled as much by the Ancestor’s magic as I was by the determination to see them again as I flew off. The Guardians did not frighten me, nor did I try to avoid them as I had in the past. I had one goal and one goal only. I was going to reach that ball of power, and I was going to see my companion again.

White filled my vision as I reach the ball of power. Once the light cleared and I could move again, I sang as loudly as I could. I held my breath as I waited for a reply. I was scared that by some fluke, the Ancestor’s hadn’t revived my companion. Or that perhaps they had faded away once they had reached the ball of power. My head filled with wilder what-ifs as time wore on with no reply.

In the end, my companion never replied to that call. Instead, they took a flying charge at me, knocking me said ways. The pure joy I felt at that moment is still indescribable to this day. I sang out my delight before circling around them excitedly. We danced around each other, before shooting forward in unison. I knew they were going to love this place!

We sang and twirled around each other as we reached ever higher. There were a couple of times they would dart off in a specific direction, and I would go chasing after them. We’d always pause at the arches if we’d lost the other for a moment. Though we were quick to continue our play afterward. For the first time, someone actually joined me on the giant clothe creature. Together we rode it nearly all the way to top.

When we reached the top, we took a minute to meditate together. Before us stood the end of our journey, yet neither of us wanted to go. My companion stood up and began running around the sand. It seemed like they were precise with their movements. Curious, I stood up to see what they were doing. They continued for a beat before sitting down like they had finished. I discovered that they had drawn a picture of a lotus flower.

Inspired by their drawing, I tried my hand at it as well. I moved to the other side of the clearing and began my work. It was a bit difficult for me to visualize how to draw a rose, but I think I got my message across. My companion seemed to approve as they sang and spun around me. That just led to me revolving around them, and we both got dizzy.

For some reason, seeing our drawings next to each other eased my reluctance. I knew they wouldn’t be there the next time I passed through. The next time didn’t seem to matter then as they were there then. I would have the memory of our flowers, the memory of them, each time I reached this clearing.

With that thought in my heart, we walked towards the light in unison. We walked into the light together.

Unknown to me at the time, two lights shot from the mountain that day. Other Travellers watched as the twin lights danced together. Twirling their way back from whence they came, back to the beginning. At the last moment, one whisked away from the other.

All I know is that when I awoke for my next life it was with a new symbol. There was a black lotus flower on the back of my head. A sign of my profound connection to my companion. A bold reminder of our time together and a bold hope for our next meeting.

#journey #journey ps4 #journey the game #slight au #oc centric #ocs

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gaasaku-fanfests · 5 years

Text

Under the Vastness

Title: Under the Vastness Author: keltoi-oak Rating: K Word Count: 2389 Summary: Sharing quiet, nighttime moments together might just lead them down the path they were always meant to take. Author's Note: Set some time after the Kazekage rescue mission. Hope you enjoy!

Trope: Isolated/Trapped

The parallels had always been obvious.

Two boys, chosen by their fathers - both of them leaders - to be the sealed vessel for one of the famed tailed beasts. Their bodies to act as cages to keep a monster and its power contained. Although their circumstances were different and involved a different cast of characters, the story of their childhood had been practically the same: a series of experiences marked by rejection and isolation.

Their personalities, though, turned out to be drastically different. While Naruto had been boisterous, enthusiastic, and selfless, there was only one word to describe a young Gaara: dangerous. Sakura would always remember the first time the Sand Siblings had come to Konoha. There was something about the red-headed boy that had put all of them on edge. His actions during the Chuunin exams had only proven them right.

She smiled, shaking her head. Back then, no one would have been able to predict how events would unfold.

She looked up at Gaara now as he sat at the head of a Sunagakure assembly. Albeit showing signs of tiredness, his expression was calm, patient. Words one would have never associated with Shukaku’s Jinchuriki during his early adolescence. That this leader sitting here in front of a congregation of representatives from different villages had once been the unstable and violent boy Sakura remembered was the definition of extraordinary. It was a testament of how much experience had shaped him and evidence of his own efforts to take his story into his own hands.

Long gone were the days when rage and mindless destruction were the driving forces of his life. Although still a powerful shinobi, he was no longer the vessel for the One-Tail. Now, he was a dedicated and selfless Kage, one who zealously protected those under his keeping.

Sitting a short distance away, Sakura took a moment to truly look at him and realized what Gaara gave her was hope. He was the embodiment of a wretched start in life turned into a triumph of his own making.

Finally, the council decided to call it a day and the assembly was adjourned. One could almost hear a sigh of relief echo throughout the large hall. Night-time had fallen a while ago and the long hours of sitting in chairs talking politics were nothing but exhausting. Gaara stood quickly and looked in Sakura’s direction.

Her eyes asked a question and he nodded in reply. On silent feet, he moved hastily towards the back and slipped through the door before anyone could notice.

Sakura chuckled. As much as he loved his role as Kazekage, being around large crowds of people for long periods was something he did not enjoy. A vestige of all those years of isolation.

She stood herself and headed towards the front door of the hall. Predictably she was stopped in her tracks more than once by people who wanted to talk to her. Acting as Konoha’s representative meant doing the rounds, something Sakura, unlike Gaara, did not mind. She had volunteered for the job, after all.

A little while later, she was finally free and made her way up the stairs on the east side of the building. She encountered attendants as she went, recognizing familiar faces. They smiled in greeting but hurried along their way, busy with whatever late tasks they had been assigned due to the assembly. Eventually, she reached a set of doors that led to a small balcony. Stepping through, she immediately felt the chill of the desert night on her skin. This didn’t slow her down, though. Once at the edge of the balcony, she jumped on the railing and lept towards the adjacent building. Channelling chakra into her feet, she ran up the wall until she reached the roof.

Landing softly, she found Gaara sitting on a tatami mat in the dark, a folded blanket to one side. She knew the latter was for her benefit; he barely felt the cold. As she approached, he turned to look up at her.

“I thought we would be sitting in there until dawn,” she by way of greeting. He lifted the blanket and handed it to her. Sakura took it gratefully, wrapping herself in it before sitting down on the tatami. “I thought they would never come to an agreement.”

“They only take their own interests into consideration,” Gaara said. “They don’t care if the rest of us need to sit through 8 hours of discussion as long as they get what they want. Not much we can do about it, I’m afraid.”

Sakura sighed. “Yes, I know. But giving those windbags a time limit would be a significant contribution for the greater good.”

Gaara’s lips curved upwards. “I’ll run it through the council.” He turned to reach behind him as he asked, “are you hungry?”

“No, not much. We had a really late lunch.”

He produced a cloth-wrapped plate and set it before them. When he removed the covering, the smells of some of Sakura’s favourite Sunagakure pastries wafted towards her. Her stomach reacted instantly.

“You cheat,” she chided but only half-heartedly.

Gaara shrugged before reaching for the food himself. “One of the perks of being Kazekage, if I crave anything to eat, I only have to ask.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “You never have food cravings.”

“No, but you do,” he replied as he took a mouthful of pastry.

She would have swatted him but instead she decided to honor the intention of his gesture. For Gaara, friendship was a relatively new concept, one he went out of his way to nurture whenever he could. So Sakura dug in, genuinely enjoying the food.

As if to prove her point, Gaara turned to reach behind him once more. He placed a steaming teapot and two cups in front of them. Here was the leader of Sunagakure, the most powerful shinobi in the village, bringing her tea to keep her warm.

As he poured, Sakura felt herself relax. It really had been a long and tiring day.

They drank quietly for a while and Sakura was glad for the warm beverage. Whenever the wind picked up, the chill got significantly worse.

“Did you come to a decision about extending your stay?” Gaara asked eventually, breaking the silence.

Sakura grinned into her cup. You could always count on the Kazekage to be direct.

“Yes,” she replied. “I received a missive from Tsunade-shisho. She said your aid would be most welcome. Are you sure you don’t mind acting as an intermediary?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” he replied, annoyed.

Her grin intensified. These days he only allowed the temper he was once famous for to show around those closest to him.

“The nomad tribes of the desert have always been notoriously reclusive,” he continued. “If you wish to do some research on their healing techniques, then it’s best for me to be involved.”

She nodded. “Yes, you’ve told me. And I am grateful for your help.”

“How much longer will you be staying?”

“At least 2 months, I think.”

“Good, that’s settled then,” he said, placing his empty cup on the floor.

Sakura did so as well before arranging the blanket more comfortably around her shoulders.

She turned her gaze towards Gaara just as his eyes fell on hers. They smiled.

As one, they fell back to lay down on the tatami.

It had become one of Sakura’s most cherished moments.

The desert sky above engulfed them in its vastness, stars so bright and numerous they rivalled description. A spectrum of glimmering colour scattered across an indigo mantle, shining with reds, greens, blues, and whites. One felt tiny yet gargantuan while gazing at such a display, humbled and dazzled in equal amounts. The chill of the night fell away, leaving only the infinite light show above.

A little over a year had passed since Sakura had first stumbled upon Gaara up on the roof. On her first mission as a Konoha envoy, she had been feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the information presented to her during the first assembly she had attended. Looking for a quiet place to get away from the buzzing meeting hall, she had gone up to the roof of the building next door, one of the tallest in Sunagakure.

It was a shock, to say the least, to find the Kazekage lying down on a tatami mat in the middle of a freezing desert gale, looking up at the sky. He was the last person she would have expected to encounter out in the night while an assembly was taking place. Nonplussed, Sakura had apologized and beat a hasty retreat. The next day, she repeated her apologies when she ran into him before a meeting. Gaara had shaken his head and instead of being cross for having his private moment interrupted, he’d invited Sakura to join him. He was eager to hear any news about Naruto. As an envoy, Sakura knew it would be bad form to reject his invitation, so she went out to meet him that night.

That had been the start of their little ritual whenever she was in town. After long tiring days, the two of them would wind down together, looking up at the breathtaking desert sky.

They would chat here and there but mostly, they just lay down on the tatami in silence. He never said it explicitly, but Sakura had come to understand that the night sky was a source of solace for Gaara; these were moments when he could allow everything around him to dissolve until there was nothing left between him and the vastness above.

Before she knew it, the star-strewn sky had started to have its effect on her. It was as if Sakura could empty herself under it; all the worry and heartbreak trickled away. In the private recesses of herself, she began to look forward to these serene moments in Sunagakure.

And to the company of the Kazekage.

There was something about Gaara that quietened Sakura. His silence was never oppressive; on the contrary, it was accepting. Maybe it was because he had been through so much, he could actually place himself in someone else’s shoes without passing any judgement. She found she could be herself, with her wrung-out heart and emotional scars. She was not the heir of Tsunade’s teachings here; neither was she a Konoha kunoichi or an ex-member of Team 7. All those roles lost their importance whenever she contemplated infinity in the face of the desert sky.

Gaara understood. There was no need to talk about it. If there was someone who knew about the vestiges of psychological and emotional damage, it was him. So they spent their nights together whenever she was in town.

Before long, Sakura began to enjoy their time together immensely, and little by little, she had come to know Gaara a whole lot better. Now, he was a person she confided in.

“I was remembering the first time you and your siblings came to Konoha today,” she told him, “during the first Chuunin exams.”

“Not my best moment,” Gaara conceded. His voice was calm, though. Sakura knew he had already made amends with that particular phase of his life.

“It made me think about you and Naruto. Your differences and your similarities.”

He nodded. “More differences than similarities these days. I’m not a Jinchuriki anymore.”

“Like if I wasn’t there when it happened,” she replied. She sent a silent prayer to Chiyo-san at the memory. “It’s a good thing, in my opinion. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to be a living, breathing cage for a tailed beast.”

Gaara contemplated this for a few silent moments before speaking. “True. From my experience, it’s not something I would wish on anyone else. Yet despite the anguish, the sleepless torment, the pain, I do not regret being one. I am now very aware that being a Jinchuriki put me on a life-path that led me here, to who I am today, to this moment I am sharing with you.”

An emotion rose from deep within her, unbidden. It’s warmth spread across her chest and Sakura felt herself soar. She could reach the stars above if she rode the wave of this feeling.

“I wouldn’t have it otherwise,” Gaara finished, unaware of the effect of his words.

“Funny you should say that,” she replied, turning her face towards him. “I came to a similar conclusion about the Chuunin exams. Even if I was afraid of who you were back then, I’m very glad we met.”

He turned towards her, smiling. “I’m very sorry I scared you, but yes, I am grateful our paths crossed when they did. And I am also thankful for everything that’s followed.”

The expansive emotion intensified and Sakura could only nod in reply.

Looking up at the sky once more, she sat laid in silence, aware of what a strange pair they made. A former Jinchuriki and an emotionally scarred kunoichi. Yet it felt right. There was comfort here and acceptance. Things had not been easy for either of them but somehow, when they were together, their stories faded and the present moment was all that mattered.

Sakura abruptly realized something: if she could continue to spend time with Gaara like this, under the vastness that set their hearts free, she would consider herself fulfilled.

Contentedness, it seemed, had sneaked up on her unawares.

Did he feel the same way?

Sakura turned to look at him again as he contemplated the stars and could not help admire his profile. The serenity in his expression did not answer her question but it filled her with expectation.

With that thought in mind, she huddled deeper into her blanket and slid nearer to him on the tatami. Gaara shifted slightly to allow her to come closer. They lay there, next to each other, close enough to feel each other’s heat.

It was all the answer Sakura needed. Such a small signal and it opened the door to a future neither of them would have ever anticipated. Discovering whatever path lay before them might just be the most exciting prospect yet.

Sakura closed her eyes to better feel her eager heart as the cold, star-filled night wrapped around them, filling the future with possibilities.

#GaaSaku #gaasaku-fanfests #GaaSaku Fic & Art Challenge #fanfic #keltoi-oak

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dustinhendrsn · 5 years

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ashes, ashes

mike wheeler/el hopper 2k - read on ao3 a/n: here’s an extremely soft scene set during s3 that I know will be canon-divergent in just a week (can ya’ll BELIEVE) but for now is completely canon-compliant!

“What about the Ferris wheel?” Mike asks as he and El stand in the center of the summer carnival – the Fun Fair, as the mayor called it during his speech earlier in the evening. Night has fallen on the fair’s very first day in Hawkins and now everything is bright and loud and lively. Rainbows of flashing lights shimmer and dance, joyous laughter rings out from the hundreds of people milling around, and the thick, sweet scent of cotton candy and funnel cake wafts through the air. With cicadas buzzing in the trees beyond the fairgrounds and the temperature just the right combination of summer’s heat and evening’s chill, it’s a perfect night.

All of it, though, would be utterly meaningless if not for the girl standing by Mike’s side. He looks over at El – she doesn’t seem to have heard his suggestion about the Ferris wheel at all. Instead she’s gazing wide-eyed around the carnival, absorbing it all bit by bit. Mike’s heart swells just by watching her. It’s almost painful to look at her; she’s so beautiful, always, and especially now, with the rainbow lights dancing over her cheeks and lighting up her eyes. Her sweet, pink lips that Mike will never grow tired of kissing are pulled up in a faint smile as she slowly turns in a circle, awe painted across her face. She’s wearing her hair loose, the soft waves brushing her shoulders, and Mike barely holds himself back from reaching up right then and there and running his hand through it. He remembers just yesterday, when she fell asleep on the couch while they were watching a movie and he was able to take all the time in the world to stroke her hair, hold her delicate hand, softly run his thumb over her knuckles. He marveled for hours at how she was truly there – he hasn’t been able to stop doing this ever since he got her back. She was there with him then, at the lowest lows of last autumn, and she’s here with him now, breathing and living and alive, her golden heart beating and her silver soul glowing.

He loves her. Of this, he’s certain. He loves her more and more with every second that passes, every time their eyes meet, every kiss and every laugh and every word. He just hasn’t had the courage to tell her yet.

A bit of powdered sugar from the funnel cake they shared earlier dusts the corner of her mouth and Mike, unable to help the ache in his heart and the ever-present pull he has towards her, softly brushes it away with his knuckle. She blinks, her priceless attention and her endless, sparkling eyes immediately focusing on him.

“Hey,” he says with a small smile, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks go pink and her smile grows into something radiant and oh, how Mike loves her. Tell her, you idiot. She deserves to know.

“Hi,” she says, her smile no longer as shy as it was when they first got back to each other and started this thing known as a relationship. It was hesitant back then, which Mike thinks was mostly his fault because all he could do was stare at her and wonder if she was real or just a ghost that his grief-stricken mind created for him. But they got past it, partly because El couldn’t stop kissing him whenever she had the chance (definitely notan issue) and because all Mike wanted to do for the rest of eternity was be with her, and he couldn’t do that if they were blushing and awkwardly stammering over their words every time they looked at each other. Of course, sometimes she’ll do something adorable like sliding wildflowers into Mike’s hair or enthusing about her soap operas, or something unbelievable like floating just a few inches off the floor so she can kiss him, and when those things happen, he melts into a clumsy, stuttering idiot. But he’s okay with that, of course he is. He wouldn’t want it any other way. And in any case, things are much smoother and more relaxed now, though Hopper might not be too overjoyed about it.

Mike has found out so much more about love in the last six months than he ever thought he would. You’re fourteen, they say. You can’t be in love so young. If only they knew. If only she knew. Sometimes he thinks he loves her so much he’s going to burn to ashes with the intensity of it.

“Do you wanna go on the Ferris wheel?” he asks her again now, gesturing to the conglomeration of steel and colorful lights and swinging chairs towering nearby. “We’ve still got plenty of tickets left.”

El turns her gaze to it and then grins at him. “Yes, I want to! Yes, yes, yes –” Without wasting any more time, she grabs his hand and starts dragging him towards it. Mike can’t help his laughter at her eagerness – he’s so lucky. So, so lucky.

After a minute in line, the entirety of which El spends talking animatedly to him about the mall trip she and Max have planned tomorrow, Mike gives two tickets to the operator and then he follows El into the red, yellow, and white striped chair waiting for them. It’s a two-person chair, just wide enough for them to sit comfortably but close enough for him to be reassured that she’s still right there next to him. The operator latches the gate once they’re in and the wheel cranks up again, moving clockwise so that all they can see at first, as they ride towards the top, is the crisscrossing internal metal structure of the wheel and then everything directly to their left and right.

“Do they do this every year?” El asks, watching the carnival recede below them.

“Not this one. The new mayor made this up just this year, but usually there’s some kind of Christmas festival or Easter parade,” Mike explains. El turns to look at him, still smiling wide.

“Will you show me them, when they come?”

As if he could say no. As if he would ever refuse her or turn down the chance to spend time with her. “Of course I will.”

She grins again and takes his hand, holding it firmly in her lap as she gazes out at Hawkins while the Ferris wheel takes them higher. Mike can’t keep his eyes off her. They’ve been through so much, come so close to permanent loss. He knows that if something were to happen to her again, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Where she goes, he will always go, from now on until the end of everything, and he doesn’t care whether their final destination is home or school or the Upside-Down or something darker and farther away. He will not lose her. Maybe that makes him crazy or stupid or hopeless or all three, but as he watches her right now, her hand warm and sure in his, he’s never felt a stronger truth. It’s laced in his bones and running in his veins and carved onto his heart.

Tell her, Mike. Just tell her.

What if he doesn’t get the chance again? What if fate decides to tear them away once more? What if, after tonight, everything falls to pieces and it’s too late? At least she’ll know, he thinks. She has to know.

“Oh, wow,” she breathes, pulling him from his reverie. They’ve stopped at the very top of the wheel and spread out around them is Hawkins, its lights glittering against the night sky. Directly below is the carnival, and then surrounding the fairgrounds is a thick forest with the town lying beyond, all of it cast in a crescent of silver moonlight. It’s an impressive sight but when Mike looks at the wonder on El’s face as she takes it all in, everything else immediately pales in comparison. A multitude of stars and constellations dot the sky, reflecting in her eyes, but all Mike can see is her. She is dazzling, magnificent, ethereal - and she’s his.

“I love it up here,” she says, glancing at him before looking around again. Her smile radiates pure happiness and it echoes deep in Mike’s heart. Ashes, ashes. He’s burning.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

She nods, and when the Ferris wheel slides back into motion a few moments later, she turns to him. “Thank you, Mike,” she says gently. She raises her free hand to cup his cheek and he’s frozen, paralyzed by her gaze full of starlight, and then his eyes flicker shut and her lips meet his. He feels her eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and his heart stutters. Everything is golden. She is so soft, so sweet, her kiss full of sunshine and courage and spirit and friendship and time. She holds an entire universe within her – as long as Mike has her, he has the world. She is all he needs and all he will ever want.

He just hopes she feels the same way.

“El…” he whispers once they pull apart, their noses still touching. She opens her eyes, and he has to swallow the lump of emotion in his throat.

“Mike,” she says simply, years of memories contained within his name. Tell her.

The words are right there on his tongue. They’ve been there for months now; never has he doubted them. Saying them will be just like stating a fact: the sky is blue, the sun is a star, Mike Wheeler loves El Hopper with every ounce of his being. It’s an irrefutable truth and there’s no better time than now. He loves her, and he’s pretty sure she loves him, and that’s all there is to it.

He takes a small breath, looking into El’s expectant eyes. “El, I lo–“

A sudden jarring screech sends them flying apart and El’s hand clenches Mike’s almost painfully. They’re nearly to the bottom of the wheel; all that lies in front of them for miles and miles is the dense forest where the sound came from, the colorful fair lights glancing and flashing off the closest trees. The wind picks up out of nowhere, sending the Ferris wheel chairs rocking and the forest rustling and shaking as the gale tears through it. Mike stares into the dark, his heart pounding staccato against his chest, all of his thoughts completely scattered. He looks over at El. She’s unhurt, albeit horrified.

“What was that?” he asks her even though he already knows the answer.

And there it is again, unmistakable and drawing everyone’s attention to the woods: a high-pitched, monstrous howl full of malice and promised vengeance. A cold, dead weight drops into Mike’s stomach, chills streaking up and down his spine.

“It’s here,” El says flatly, her hand tight around Mike’s as her eyes roam the forest, searching for the source. He can feel her rapid pulse where their wrists press together.

Mike shakes his head. It’s too soon. He needs more time with her before the world implodes again. “It can’t be. It can’t.”

“It is.” El looks at him intently, her euphoria from moments ago now gone and replaced with a well of sadness in her eyes. There’s a hardness to her expression, a sense of duty and purpose despite how much she might not want that burden. His throat closes up, his chest packed tight with cotton. This isn’t right. He feels like he’s holding on to a fraying rope about to snap. “We need to go, Mike,” she says.

“I just got you back,” he whispers, his breath ragged. He doesn’t want to accept this at all. He wants to stay in this chair with her forever, content in the knowledge that she’s safe, both of them too high up for things like mortality and loss and pain to touch them.

She cups his face with both hands and he can see in her eyes that even though she doesn’t want to leave either, she’s begging him to understand. “I know, Mike. But we have to go.”

Finally, Mike nods, ashes in his heart. Where she goes, he goes. His love will have to wait. It can’t, but it will.

tagging my mileven crying companions <3

@fatechica @calpurnias @mikewheeler @formerlyjannafaye @ericasinclairs @elshopper @elhoppers @summer-in-hawkins @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @wheelrs

#st fanfic #mileven fanfic #mileven #st #stranger things #mike wheeler #el hopper #anna puts words together #this came to me in a DAY #and honestly i love it

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elowynlavellan · 5 years

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kiss me goodbye Part Two

Click here for part one

You were sitting in Jesse’s parked car, shotgun, fiddling with one of the random novels you picked out to keep from the last time you helped the old guy with his bookshop – Mr Roberts, while polishing off another donut. The sun was setting in the distance, a golden glow filled the car and reflected in the mirror. It had been a long week of mediocrity and work but at least you had the evenings with Jesse to look forward to.

Jesse sat in the driver's seat next to you, he had his window rolled down, the cool, dusk air creeping up on the pair of you. His stern, concentrated face seemed indifferent, as did his unusual silence. It was a recent development, this silence. He was blowing the occasional puff of smoke out the window from his lit cigarette, deep in thought, it seemed. Sometimes you wished you could get him high enough to spill everything that went on in his mind but most of the time, it just resulted in this unwavering silence.

You glanced down at the pink box sitting in your lap, having just finished off your last donut. But Jesse still had his to eat and even though you were tempted to sneak in one of his, you held onto your willpower. “Donut?” you asked, offering him the box.

His lips parted slightly as he blew out more smoke, his eyes tore away from the street view you both had from where the car was parked. He eyed the box. He tried not to smile and shook his head at you, “You ate your half already?”

You grinned, a little embarrassed, and replied, “Can’t help it, they’re so good!” Suddenly, your stomach rumbled with satisfaction and you laughed, pointing at your gut, “See? Even my tum thinks so.”

Jesse grabbed the box from your hand, “Guess I should eat my share…” he carefully chose one, a nice, brightly coloured one with pink sprinkles, and bit into it, “especially if they’re that good.” He pressed his cigarette into the ashtray while he finished chewing his mouthful. He liked the tradition you had started, donuts and coffee after working hard all day. It was something he looked forward to in between working with Walt and then Mike later on in the night. Not to mention, he couldn't feel at peace anywhere else, not even at his now junkie flooded house where he would drown out thoughts of murder with a nice shard of blue glass. But since you came into the picture, there was nowhere else better.

You stretched out a little and the car seat groaned with your movement, your book now sitting over one leg to hold the page you’re up to. You peered up at the sky through the window beside you and watched the splash of warm colours. The clouds littered the oranges and blues and pinks that the sunset brought, it almost looked like a painting. You remembered back to the art gallery and Jesse's awkward first visit. Now he came by so often that he could pick out when a new piece had arrived and you'd just hung it up with the others. You smiled to yourself.

You suddenly remembered a time when you didn’t know him at all. Now, it would be weird, to live this life without him smoking his cigarettes with you at sunset, the smell of sweet icing and jelly.

Jesse turned to look at you instead of gazing out the windshield, “Why do you even like donuts so much?” he pondered out loud, his words fumbling through the mouthful of donut.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You gestured to the box in his lap, “They’re sugary goodness. Just the right amount of light, fluffiness to them, and they can be served super sweet with icing and sprinkles, or jelly, or you could just have plain old cinnamon. Isn’t that fantastic?” you babbled.

He slowly blinked and kept his stare on you, mouth closed and still full, an eyebrow raised.

You laughed at his expression and shook your head.

He finally swallowed, “You’ve really uh… thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” he teased. You could see amusement behind his eyes.

You pushed your hair out of your eyes, and sunk further into the car seat, deciding on a serious answer. “I don’t know…” you started, quiet, “I guess it’s a nostalgia thing. My brothers and I would always get donuts after school on our way home.”

His face softened at the thought of a little you walking home from school, pig-tails and a too-big backpack sitting on your shoulders, grinning from ear-to-ear, alongside your brothers. He chuckled at the thought and then chimed in, “Brothers are good for something, then.” In that moment, he half-wished he had memories like that with his own brother. But most of Jake's upbringing was spent being separated from him by his parents, in fear that he would turn out a loser just like Jesse was.

You peered over at him, his eyes were clouded with deep-thinking yet again. “You got a brother?”

Jesse paused, picking at another donut absent-mindedly. He suddenly seemed very quiet. “Yeah, yeah…”

You watched him, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. You shifted your position slightly, so that you faced him better, the book that was on your leg now lying on the car’s dashboard, “Has he got a name?” you asked.

He jolted and looked up at you suddenly, as if he was lost in his own little world not a moment ago. He discarded the half-eaten donut into the box, uninterested in finishing it, “Yeah, uh... Jake.” His eyes darted from yours to the car radio.

“Younger or older?”

Jesse reached for the back of his neck nervously and stared out through the windshield. A moment passed as he shifted uncomfortably, “Younger, he finally replied. He scratched at his hair near his hairline, it had been such a long time since he thought of his little brother. Since he thought of his own family. So much had happened.

You thought about asking him something more about his family, conversation rarely ever went there and you wanted to take the opportunity to get to know his life a little better but he interrupted your thoughts by turning the radio on to some of his hip-hop rap music. It blasted through the speakers at high volume, since the last time he listened was while you both shouted the lyrics together while driving through the neighbourhood.

He ditched the box of donuts back onto your lap.

You sat up in your seat in response, steadying the box, “You okay?”

He sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, “Yeah,” he started rolling up his window, “just got shit to do, you know?” Jesse straightened himself up in his seat, the usual cheeky expression no longer visible.

“Okay,” you mumbled quietly and buckled your seatbelt.

You weren’t fond of these moments, nor were you new to them. Whenever things got a little too real, a little too deep or close to home, Jesse had an escape plan. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, if there should be anything to feel at all, but it did frustrate you sometimes because all you wanted was to get to know him.

He started the car up and put it into drive. You passed by houses you didn’t recognize.

His eyes darted to the book still sitting on the dashboard, it was a blue, little thing that looked old and worn. He already felt the guilt from cutting off conversation before but it was something he had to do. He couldn't just tell you these things, he couldn't open up about his life to you. You weren't ready for it, or maybe he wasn't. He didn't know. But ever since Jane, ever since what he did to Gale...

“What’cha reading?” Jesse spat out, rather than calmly asked, he was eager to escape his thought patterns. They always ended up in the same dark places. Besides, he liked to ask you about the things you read, because you read so often. Your mind, to him, was a ball of knowledge and the things you thought about always intrigued him.

You swallowed before responding, not so sure you felt like talking to him anymore, “Just a book. Collection of short stories.”

“About?” he prodded, glancing at you briefly before he rounded the next corner by turning the steering wheel.

“Death, love, betrayal, the usual.”

He was amused by your sudden attitude, usually when he asked you questions like that, you would talk on for hours about every detail of the story and the characters. He wouldn't have to push you to talk. He swallowed and made another attempt at conversation, “Maybe you can read it to me sometime… when I’m not being as much of an asshole.”

“Like how you’re being one now?”

“Yep,” he admitted, and looked at you with those charming blue eyes. You didn't respond so he suggested, “Or maybe we can get high together and figure out the real meaning behind them. Authors always have like... hidden meanings, right? Things you gotta work out yourself, like cracking a code or something?”

You laughed at this and rolled your eyes, “Sure.”

You saw him smile, out from the corner of your eye. His eyes were on the road ahead of him but he didn't seem to be as distracted as before, or nervous. This was how it was sometimes, depending on the day, he would change moods often. You knew it was because of deeper reasons than just working at a laundromat but you accepted his secrecy. Other times, you were too concerned to be patient with him. But for now, as the sun set behind you, you just enjoyed riding along with him listening to his crappy music.

He knew you were concerned, he didn't want you to be but he always saw your worried looks. Even when you thought he didn't notice. He reached for your hand and you were surprised when he touched it lightly.

For a moment, his hand was there, on yours. He squeezed it and then let go, both hands back on the steering wheel.

***

It wasn’t a good day.

Jesse hadn’t swung by in a little while but he blamed it on the laundromat and his "bitch of a boss" giving him extra shifts. He spent most of his time recently doing these odd jobs, sometimes, well into the night. You knew that because he'd send you a text at 2 in the morning in response to one you sent much earlier in the day. Though you were lucky if he even responded, most days.

But this particular night, he called you.

“Y/N?” he pleaded on the other side, a crackle of static sounded as he shifted his mobile from one ear to the other, “Y/N, are you home?”

You frowned at the sound of his voice, the obvious state that he was in, some kind of distress. You stood up from your couch, “Jesse? Yeah, I am," your eyes darted to your car keys, "I’m home. Where are you, are you alright?”

“No, I… I – fuck.” It sounded as if he took in a deep breath and then sighed. He finally continued, “I just… I’m outside. I didn't... I didn't know where else to go.”

“What-” You heard a knock on your door as you replied. You paused, staring at your front door from your couch. The porch light was on and you could see through a slit in the curtains, a figure much like Jesse's. You hurried to the front door and unlocked it, he swung toward the door when he heard the click. You opened the door, the phone still pressed against your ear. Jesse stared at you from the entrance, his shoulders slumped and his eyes grey with exhaustion.

You dropped your hand from the side of your face, still holding the phone, “What’s wrong?” you asked, when he walked past you into your home. He was wearing his usual dark clothing but one of his cheekbones was obviously red and bruised.

He swallowed, his eyes darted from yours, “Nothing.” He glanced at you but couldn’t keep your stare, “I just… wanted to be somewhere else.”

“Your cheek—”

“It’s nothing," he warned.

You eyed him as he wandered over to your couch and sat down in a heap. Something was wrong, of course, but again, of course, he wouldn’t let up. He never did. He never told you anything.

You slipped your phone into your pocket and followed him to the couch. You sat down beside him and hesitated, “Can I get you anything?” He rested his head against the cushion and shut his eyes. “Jesse?”

“Huh?” he said softly, confused. He opened his eyes and looked at you a moment. The moment seemed too long. “No, I’m okay.”

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. You sat in silence as the light from the television spilled over into the room, washing out your skin with an electric blue. You wanted to know what happened, you wanted to know what the hell was going on with him lately, but he wouldn’t say a single word. You stared at the bruise on his face and felt something close to anger well up inside you. You turned away from him and stared at your hands in your lap.

Only the laugh-track of whatever sitcom was on echoed between you. You felt his eyes on you, but you weren’t going to be the one to start questioning him. You were sick of it. If he wanted to talk about what happened, he needed to do it himself, right then and there.

"Are you mad?" he suddenly asked, his voice wavered.

You pouted your lips, thinking hard on what to respond with. You knew Jesse needed patience but it was difficult sometimes, especially when he rocks up out of nowhere with a wounded cheek. "I don't know, maybe."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," you mumbled, softly. You sighed and caught his stare, "I just wish you would tell me what the hell happened. I know you don't like to talk about... some stuff, but you can't just show up, injured, at my door-step and expect me to be okay with not knowing why."

He looked down at his hands. They were bruised and cut too. You could see them bleeding from where you sat.

He shook his head, "It doesn't matter."

You closed your eyes, briefly, and tried to not let the anger upset you to tears.

All Jesse could think about was the shit he did. All of it. The drugs, the murder, getting high -- all of it. He didn't understand why you could be so upset, he didn't understand why you could even care this much. It was foreign to him, someone like you. Maybe he shouldn't have come here after all, but if he didn't, he might have wandered off into the middle of traffic on a highway somewhere.

He swallowed, “Do... do you... like me?” he asked, quietly. A commercial for dish-washing liquid was on. He was staring at the TV as he said it and continued to do so. He didn't know what made him ask you so suddenly. Maybe he just wanted to know if he was really a good person, even after everything that he's done.

You looked at him. You were a little taken aback by his question but answered him truthfully anyway, “I... Yeah.”

He blinked, as if surprised, “Why?”

You were staring at the commercial too when you continued, “You…” you paused, wanting to be honest. You sighed, “You have nice eyes.” You felt as if you were treading onto something unknown, neither of you spoke about each other in this way. It was something you avoided, maybe, or it was something you both weren’t sure about just yet. Nevertheless, it was there, it always was there, it just hadn’t been said. “You know how to make me laugh and… and I feel comfortable around you, I feel like I can trust you.” You finally looked at him, “I want… to know you.”

He swallowed, his blue eyes alight, an expression you weren’t sure if you’d seen before.

You licked your lips nervously, “But Jesse, you won’t let me know you.”

He felt his heart sink at your words because he knew you were right. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he just wanted to tell you. If only you knew these things, he could be himself, completely and freely, without a worry. But he couldn’t tell you. He couldn’t tell you how he felt because he was afraid, he couldn’t let you know him because he hated who he was. He couldn’t let you see the real him because he was scared that you’d hate him too.

Instead of arguing or defending himself, he just turned back to face the television again, and you had enough.

You suggested he should leave, and though he wanted anything but, he couldn’t argue. If he were to argue, he’d tell you the truth, but he didn’t want that because it might just hurt you more.

He got up and said that he needed a ride. Apparently, he had walked to your house. You didn’t believe him, but you gave him a lift anyway.

You could hear music on his street, loud, and when you pulled up to the house he lived in, he got out on the passenger side and didn’t even say goodbye when he left.

click here for part three

#jesse pinkman #breaking bad #bb #bb fic #jesse pinkman/reader #jesse pinkman x reader #reader insert

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 5 years

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Down the Rabbit Hole to the Emerald City - Chapter 02

Here’s the next chapter of this little story! It was honestly quite the delight to write and I had more fun than I thought I would with it!

Summary: Dorothy Gale was twelve-years-old when a twister flew her away to a magical land that she realized too late had become a home to her. She was fourteen when she was sent off to spend the summer with her cousin who she had never heard of. Dorothy had expected a summer of boredom and longing, but instead she may have found her way back home.

Alice Liddell was seven-years-old when she had a very curious dream that showed her a world she’s been craving since. She was fourteen when she was finally allowed back home from her “hospital” and allowed to spend the summer with an unknown cousin. She expected the need to hide and put on a fake smile, but instead she may have found the one person to believe her.

There are countless stories of little girls who find their way into magical worlds before wandering back out as if they had never been there before, but this is a story of how two young women found their way back.

Word Count: 3,320 Transaction Amount: $24 (USD)

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Chapter Two

Cousin Lorna, Alice’s older sister who was quite the lovely person, from what Dorothy had discovered, was giving both her and Alice odd, searching looks over their breakfast and the table itself, always just out of sight from their mother. It wasn’t until the older woman left, busy with work of her own, that Lorna spoke up, looking to Dorothy and asking a gentle, “Are you alright? You seem rather… distant. Did you have trouble sleeping?”

“I did, I’m afraid,” Dorothy admitted before giving an apologetic smile, trying not to show how the question had startled her. “The room you’ve given to me for the summer is lovely, I suppose Toto and I are still just adjusting, is all.” Toto gave a little snuffled sneeze from where he was tucked down against Dorothy’s ankles and eating his own breakfast, manners impeccable as always as he refused to beg for any table scraps. Dorothy snuck him one or two, anyways, when she was sure Lorna and Aunt Helen weren’t looking. Alice, who was sitting right beside her, looked to have been doing the same.

“No doubt you’re homesick, as well.” Lorna had the picture of sisterly concern to the point that Dorothy almost thought it faked, but there was something too sincere in the eyes that could only be real. “Well, take all the time you need to settle, Dorothy, and let me know if there’s anything we can get you to make your stay a good one.”

Dorothy settled for giving a little nod, looking down to her plate that she had only picked at, so far. She was never one for a large breakfast in the mornings to begin with, and after last night, all her thoughts seemed to be swirling with what she and her cousin had talked about in the late hours of the night.

Both had been too wary to discuss too much, frightened as if someone would be listening in and ready to reprimand them for telling stories, and so Dorothy had retreated to her room with a promise from Alice of talking more tomorrow. She had planned to sleep, however uneasy it might be, but Dorothy had instead stayed up for hours and carefully recounted every detail she could remember about Oz until her exhausted body had finally given out on her.

It had been too long since she had thought good and hard about Oz and the friends she left behind, and Dorothy had mourned in secrecy as she had realized she could not remember the shade of color of Lion’s eyes, or the exact cadence of Tin Man’s voice, or the way in which Scarecrow had walked. She had forgotten how many wrinkles were on the face of Oz the Wizard, and she could not remember, no matter how hard she tried, on which side Glinda’s smile had tilted up when she was pleased with something.

Her whispered recounting had led to mourning and tears which had led to a very brief and exhausted sleep; if one could call tossing and turning sleep.

“I suppose it’s about time I start on my own tasks for the day.” Lorna’s words broke Dorothy out of her tangled thoughts, Lorna already standing up and gathering her dishes to take into the kitchen. “Make sure to set the dishes in the kitchen when you’re done, girls, and to stay indoors, today. There’s supposed to be quite the storm rolling in, and I don’t want you two caught up in it.”

Alice, who had been quiet and still for the entire time Aunt Helen had been in the room, laughed as life seemed to seep back into her, voice quiet in a way it hadn’t been last night as she said a soft, “We’ll be careful, Lorna. I think we’ll be in the library most of the day, if anything. Dorothy was curious about some of the books?”

“Oh, yes,” Dorothy agreed at once, giving her best smile at Lorna and trying not to show her own surprise at the sudden plans. She supposed they did need to talk about, well, everything. The library was as good a place as any for that conversation. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen so many books.”

“Then you girls have fun.” Lorna was nothing except warm and fond as she kissed both of them on the head before disappearing into the kitchen with a soft hum, Alice’s expression showing that same warmth and fondness.

Dorothy was about to tell Alice how wonderful a sister she had before the table shook and echoed with a mighty thump, Dorothy jumping in her seat with a shocked little, “Oh!” as she stared down at one of the largest cats she had ever seen.

“Dinah,” Alice scolded, reaching up to drag the cat over to her before lifting her off the table with a punched out, breathless noise. “Have you been sneaking away with treats, you naughty thing?”

Dorothy watched as Dinah escaped Alice’s arms with a pitiful yowling sound, landing on the floor hard enough to cause a few tremors, Toto giving a startled yelp and jumping into Dorothy’s lap in surprise, Dorothy catching him at once.

“Sorry about her,” Alice huffed a breathless little sound as she squared her shoulders and dusted her hands off. “She’s always so well behaved around Mother and Lorna, but then they disappear and she becomes the most curious of creatures. It’s like she lives a double life!”

Dinah and Alice, Dorothy decided, had a lot in common. The bright eyes and wide smile were nothing like the calm, collected expression Alice had been wearing for most of breakfast. This Alice seemed as wild and curious as her cat, eager to explore and unapologetic when, or perhaps if, she was caught.

“Now,” Alice said cheerfully, pulling Dorothy’s chair out with her still in it. “Let’s take care of these dishes and then, I believe, we have a library to get to, don’t we?”

That was how Dorothy soon found herself once again visiting her cousin’s own personal library, still in awe of the towering shelves, countless books, and polished wooden floors and tables and chairs that made the whole room look incredible. Dorothy was only able to appreciate it all for a moment before Alice was pulling them towards a back corner, tucked away behind shelves and hidden near a window that looked out over endless green hills, and pushing Dorothy down into a chair.

Cousin Alice, Dorothy had quickly discovered, was not as quiet and meek as her family had been led to believe, and instead the girl was full of unending energy and fierce resolve to accomplish her task of getting back to her home; a task that now, it seemed, involved Dorothy, as proven when Alice sat them down in the library and asked Dorothy to tell her how she had first reached Oz.

“It happened due to a twister,” Dorothy said, nervously running her fingers through Toto’s ruff as the dog sat in her lap as usual. A glance up showed Alice sitting in a chair across from her, staring at her without so much as a blink. “A twister came when I was twelve, about two years ago, and my dog Toto and I weren’t able to get into the storm cellar in time where my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry already were.”

Alice sat back in her chair, gaze never faltering, but something in her eyes telling Dorothy that she was now lost in her thoughts. “The twister took you both, then.”

“Oh, no,” Dorothy quickly shook her head. “It took the whole house!” The incredulous look she was given had Dorothy managing a laugh. “Yes, that was quite how I felt about it all. We climbed into bed to sleep, but when we left the house, well… We weren’t in Kansas anymore.”

Dorothy took a steady breath, trying to calm her erratic heart rate as she realized she was talking about Oz. When she and Toto had managed to arrive back to the house in Kansas, again, and Dorothy had seen the house rebuilt and the unending plains of her original home, she had thought it had all been a dream. Now, though, being able to speak about it and share the stories that she had kept close to her heart, well. How had she ever thought it was anything except real?

“I fell down a rabbit hole.” The words were silly enough to snap Dorothy out of her racing thoughts, her eyes wide as she looked over to where Alice was giving her a smile. “I followed a curious white rabbit with a pocket watch and fell down a very, very long way.”

“Well.” Dorothy laughed, covering her mouth until she managed to get her words back. “I suppose that’s no stranger than being carried away by a twister or by returning with a pair of silver shoes.”

“Silver shoes?” Alice looked at her with that unnerving gaze once more, but this time it was softer; it was curious. “How did a pair of silver shoes let you leave?”

“They were magical, of course.” Dorothy choked the words out more than she said them, feeling as if she admitted to magic and to Oz then someone would swoop in and accuse her of being a child or simply lying for attention. Alice, however, didn’t even flinch, only nodding and waiting for the rest. “They… I got them in very odd circumstances, but those shoes carried me all across Oz and, in the very end, I clicked them together three times, wished very hard, and appeared back home.”

“I simply woke up,” Alice confided, small words wrapped up in a wavering tone. Once again, Dorothy wondered what ‘hospital’ Alice had been confined to for so many years. “I thought it was all simply a dream, near the end, especially when I woke up with my head on my sister’s lap, as if I had just fallen asleep and hardly any time at all had passed.”

Dorothy had thought it was all a dream, too. Shoes had gotten her home and her time away had been noticed, but Alice, it seemed, had suffered much more doubt. It couldn’t be anything except real, however, Dorothy mused to herself. Seven odd years was a very long time to remember a single dream, after all.

Thinking on what she could say for a moment, Dorothy looked down to Toto, smiling at the wagging tail before looking back to Alice. “Who’s to say there aren’t worlds that must first be visited by dreaming?”

Alice’s gaze snapped to her as quick as a crack appearing in ice, eyes wide and startled before a brilliant smile took over her face. “I rather thought the same myself. Those shoes you mentioned. I don’t suppose…”

“They must fit in order to work,” Dorothy said softly, hugging Toto close and hiding in his fur for just a moment. “They fell off my feet when I first arrived back at my Aunt and Uncle’s. It took weeks to find them and weeks longer to work up the courage to try and use them again but, by that time, I had outgrown them.”

She carried them with her even now, though, wrapped in a dusty old shirt and tucked away at the bottom of her suitcase. She hid them well, but they were always on the front of her mind, Dorothy constantly wondering if there was some other way to make them work. As of yet, nothing had worked.

“Perhaps it’s good that none of this is so easy,” Alice said softly, Dorothy looking over to see the blue moth from last night, Altair, Dorothy had called him, fluttering around Alice’s hair before landing on her outstretched hand. “It would feel wrong, I think, if we didn’t have to fight our way back.”

Dorothy gave a small nod, looking at the brilliant blue wings and remember the kind witches she had met, and the cruel magic she had seen firsthand. There was nothing earthly about that moth; at least, not to someone who knew what unearthly things looked like.

“You know, Alice,” Dorothy said softly. “I think you might be right.” Toto gave a quiet, but vigorous bark of agreement, Alice hiding giggles behind her hand the same time as Dorothy.

Their laughter only stopped when there was a loud rumble of thunder, distant, at first, but growing ever closer. A tilt of her chair and strain of her neck showed Dorothy that the light from the window had near completely vanished during their talk, the sky covered in heavy, gray clouds that were fit to burst.

“It looks like the storm is here,” Dorothy said quietly, looking back to Alice and startled to see she had a wide, almost too wide, grin on her face. “Alice?”

Alice stood up from the table with a flounce of her dress, Altair fluttering up to rest on the top of her headband, as if he was a part of the band itself. “You know,” Alice said, grin turning sharp and mischievous. “There’s nothing quite like a good book when it storms like this.”

Alice, Dorothy decided, was certainly not what her family had been led to believe. Dorothy found that a very comforting thought.

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Alice couldn’t help the burst of giggles that would slip past her lips as she darted through familiar halls that were the same as when she had left, only stopping when she reached a stretch of wall without any pictures or frames or important works of art hanging upon it. There was only ugly, off-white wallpaper with little red spade-like patterns that had long since been bleached by the sun. In the center of that stretch of wall, however, was an imprint of what could have been a door if one merely tilted their head and thought about it long enough. The small keyhole, however, was clear as day.

“Is that a door? With no knob?” Dorothy asked curiously, Alice looking down at seeing a blur of movement to see Toto was sniffing along the edges of the door, tail wagging. He really was a sweetheart and, Alice mused, very, very clever. “Why is it covered up like that?”

“It leads to an attic,” Alice explained, holding her hand up to her headband and smiling as she felt soft, skittering little feet crawling onto her hand. “It’s been like this for as long as I can remember, but Altair helped me open it not long before I… left.” Alice could see the burning questions in Dorothy’s eyes, as if to not ask would be a sentence of death, but she stayed silent. She didn’t ask. Alice loved her all the more for it. “I hid every piece of paper that I had ever written on that spoke about Wonderland, but I also found books that are quite different than the ones in our study.”

Lowering her hand to the lock, Alice watched, worried as always, as Altair folded his wings and climbed into the lock, becoming nearly half his size as he crawled inside. She knew he could take care of himself, but she was always worried about the possibility that he could get hurt. He was only so strong outside of Wonderland.

A tense minute passed before a click was heard and the door swung a few inches open, the seam it had left flawless and cut to perfection. Toto barked and ran his way around their feet as Altair crawled out, fluttered his wings as if huffing in distaste before he flew back to rest on Alice’s hand.

“Oh, wow.” Dorothy had her hands clasped together and looked delighted, smiling brightly at them. “That’s incredible.”

“He’s a very incredible moth.” Alice brushed a kiss against one of the wings, laughing when the wing batted at her cheek before Altair fluttered up to rest on her headband again. “Come on, then, and make sure to close the door behind you!”

Alice rushed up the shadowed, dust-covered stairs, searching out the lantern she had hidden away so long ago as she heard the door close and lock behind Dorothy and Toto. By the time her cousin reached the very top of the stairs and made it onto the landing, Alice had the lantern lit, lighting up the piles and piles of books that were stacked around them for what felt like miles.

“You neglected to mention that you have an entire library up here in your attic,” Dorothy said, more surprised than anything else as she looked around, fingertips trailing through layers of old, collected dust. From the floor, Alice heard Toto sneeze a few times, the dog sounding disgruntled by the time he reached his last one. “How many books are there?”

“I’ve never counted,” Alice hummed, walking over to an aged and wooden table with mismatched chairs that once would have been an eyesore if time hadn’t mellowed the colors. Alice set the lantern down carefully, taking a moment to enjoy the soft light as thunder rattled through the walls and floors in a muffled, distant way, the sharp, telling sound of splattering raindrops soon falling.

“It sounds as if the storm has really started,” Dorothy said quietly, bending down to inspect one of the books, Alice only straining her ears for the sound of the storm. They were so much closer to the storm and the sky while being in the attic, but with the massive size of the room they were in, it was as if the storm was a world away. “You have quite the odd attic.”

“Not really, I don’t think.” Alice pushed up her sleeves, turning around three times before setting off towards the stack of books she needed. “I think that if you looked in the attic of every large house there is, you would find a sight much like this. Now, I did promise us a book, and I have just the one that I think you might enjoy.”

Tucked between a stack of books was a green, leather-bound journal that looked as if it had sailed the world five times over. It was weatherworn, sun bleached, and smelled of salt and brine. Alice retrieved it carefully, fingers tracing over the rose compass that was etched into the front cover, the entire book seeming to shimmer when tilted just right.

“I haven’t had the chance to read all of it, yet, but I think that this is a book that you’ll enjoy just as much as I do.” Alice turned around and walked back to the table, striding through the waves of dust and setting the book down within the lamp’s soft light.

Dorothy was drawing closer at once, mumbling out a soft, “It’s beautiful.” Alice agreed wholeheartedly as she carefully unwrapped the leather cord that kept it closed.

“It is, but… It’s beautiful for more than one reason.” Alice sat down and waved for Dorothy to do the same, Alice waiting until Dorothy was right beside her with Toto settled in her lap. “You were taken to your world on a twister and I found mine through dreaming.”

“Yes,” Dorothy said slowly, looking down at the book before her eyes started to widen. Alice beamed, opening the book in a way that pages flipped past them with a lazy grace, showing glimpses of maps and cities that were not in the world they sat in. “Is this…”

Alice grinned, bright and mad and utterly satisfied as she turned to her cousin. “You’ll find, Dorothy, that not all worlds are found on accident.”

Alice spread out the journal and let it settle on the first page, a date scratched into it that showed it was long before their time, but not far enough off to make it impossible. Not impossible, Alice knew, was all they needed.

#Alice In Wonderland #the wonderful wizard of oz #down the rabbit hole to the emerald city

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frillyfacefics · 7 years

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The Warmth That Compels Me

Fandom: Star Wars Rating: Explicit Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi (unrequited) Words: 3511 Tags: Masturbation, Secret Crush, Clandestine Masturbation while lying next to a sleeping person, Sharing Body Heat, Unrequited Love Also on AO3

Summary:

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are stranded on a strange planet during an icy cold night. When Qui-Gon suggests that they share their body heat to stay warm until morning, Obi-Wan can't resist the feeling of his sleeping master behind him.

The night winds of were howling outside of the little crevice they had found refuge in. Obi-Wan sat in the farthest corner from the entry, tightly wrapped in his cape, and tried to keep his teeth from rattling without getting a cramp in his jaw. He had pushed his fingers into his sleeves and his knees pulled tight against his body. They had not been planning to stay on the planet long enough to see nightfall, and the gale had taken them by surprise. Well, “gale” was a little of an understatement. Obi-Wan hadn’t quite understood it when his master had explained it, but this pain of a storm apparently disabled all communication tech as well as throwing their navigation tools into a frenzy; so instead of lazing on a ship while they were returning to Coruscant, they now had to wait for the storm to subside so their shuttle would be able to pick them up without having its navigation completely busted.

That wouldn’t have been that much of a problem, of course, if the temperatures hadn’t dropped under the freezing point as soon as the two suns had vanished behind the horizon. They had been warned in the first settlement they had visited not to use their speeders when the storms hit, and they had noticed why when not only their navigational systems, but also their engines had started to act up something fierce. They were lucky that they had been able to find this little crevice in the rock of a crater they had just been passing, really.

They had positioned their speeders so that they would keep most of the wind out, but they weren’t doing anything to alleviate this blasted cold.

Qui-Gon returned to the back of the crevice from where he had been peeking out at the storm. He let himself fall heavily onto the floor right next to Obi-Wan and shook his head.

“It looks like we are going to be stuck here until tomorrow, at least…”, he said.

“At least!?” Obi-Wan groaned and pulled his arms even closer around his body. His nose was already feeling numb. They should have made sure that the speeders that the traders had provided them with had some sort of emergency gear packed - at least some blankets - but who would have thought that a heat strong enough to blur the desert horizon would turn into this ice box?

With a sigh - and only a tiny bit of rattling teeth - he lowered his forehead to his knees. If he was going to be a Jedi, he should be able to take extreme conditions, right? And honestly, he didn’t mind heat all that much, as long as he didn’t have to be anywhere near the kind of stenches that often came with heat, but the cold was a completely different thing. He couldn’t breathe through it, and while he just started sweating in strong heat, cooling him down, the first thing his body seemed to be doing in extreme cold was to draw all the warmth from his hands and his feet, making him feel as if parts of him were just seconds from falling off…

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and he was pulled against his master’s body.

“You’re shivering”, Qui-Gon murmured. Obi-Wan could feel the words rumbling in his master’s chest. He took a deep breath, smelling the ozone of the storm, the wool of his master’s coat, and a faint note of man...

“You have to be cold too, master”, he said, shuffling a little closer to the older man.

“Not quite as cold as I might become later tonight”, Qui-Gon said with a worried look towards the entrance of their crevice. He shook his head and put his arm more firmly around Obi-Wan. “This will make a great story for your future padawan, I’m sure.”

If they didn’t freeze to death here, that was. Still, Qui-Gon’s closeness was soothing his nerves, and his master’s warmth was keeping the cold at bay. He leaned his weight against the warm body next to him and closed his eyes. It didn’t even cross his mind that the thing that would most likely make you freeze to death was going to sleep.

“Obi-Wan”, a voice whispered into the blackness of his sleep. “Obi-Wan, wake up!” The whisper became more persistent, and he could feel something moving his body, strong hands shaking him awake.

He felt stiff and light-headed, and his hands and feet were hurting. The heat of the body next to him was like a lighthouse in the bitter cold, which hit him so suddenly that he nearly bit his own tongue with his rattling teeth.

His vision swam when a wave of nausea came over him.

“There you are”, his master said in a low voice and held a bottle of water to his lips. Obi-Wan tried to take it with his own hand, but when he noticed that his fingers were too numb to hold anything properly, he just took a long swig while Qui-Gon was holding the bottle.

His dizziness abated as he swallowed the cold water, but it did little to stop the cold that had seeped into his skin like water into a sponge.

Qui-Gon was watching him with concern. “I shouldn’t have let you fall asleep”, he said as he gently took Obi-Wan’s hands in his own. He rubbed them between his hands, then he lifted them to his face to breathe of them.

“I am very sorry that I have brought you into such a situation, my young padawan”, he said with a frown. “I should have made sure to check the forecasts a second time after we landed…”

Obi-Wan just shook his head, trying to keep his eyes open. He was still so tired. “Don’t you worry, master. It should take a bit more than a storm and a bit of cold to take me down.”

Qui-Gon’s frown stayed where it was. “Still, if your temperature drops any more, you might take sick, and I also do not want to risk any lasting damages on your limbs.”

“Aren’t you worried about becoming too cold yourself, master?”, Obi-Wan asked, fighting against his fatigue.

Qui-Gon smiled and patted one of his hands, which he was still holding in his own.

“Even if I was, my first concern would always be my Padawan. But as it is, I seem to be able to deal with these conditions quite a bit better than you. I am not saying that I am not cold, but… It is bearable.”

Obi-Wan lowered his gaze to the stone floor they were sitting on. He felt guilty and useless; he knew that those feelings were unreasonable and wouldn’t solve their current problems, but he just couldn’t help himself. He did not want Qui-Gon to worry about him, even though the feeling of those big, calloused hands holding his own was bringing a peculiar kind of warmth back into his body.

“In any event”, Qui-Gon went on, gently putting Obi-Wan’s now warm hands down. “We have to make sure to stay warm until tomorrow morning. Or at least as warm as possible.”

To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Qui-Gon began to take off his cloak.

“The most effective way I can think of would be to share our body heat as efficiently as possible. Are you comfortable with taking off your clothes?” He gave Obi-Wan a questioning look.

The Padawan just blinked. Had he missed something? Those two statements didn’t seem to have anything to do with each other. What did taking off his clothes have to do with anything?

“Uhm”, he made and frowned again. “If I may ask, master… Why?”

“Because, my young Padawan”, his master answered as he undid his belt and sash, “warmth is shared easiest between two bodies if there is nothing between those bodies.” He started to unwrap his overtunic. “If we lie down, we might be able to put our clothes over both our bodies, so we could double our protection in such a way too.” While he was talking, he was already working on his undertunic. He pulled it off with one swift motion, exposing a shapely upper body covered in coarse brown hair flecked with grey.

Obi-Wan felt even more heat rise into his cheeks at this sight. He had seen his master’s bare upper body a few times during sparring sessions and in the morning when he had been awake earlier than Qui-Gon and had gone to his room to wait for him to get ready; but there was something different about seeing him half-naked in such a dim light. He couldn’t quite describe it, but… The sight made his breath hitch in his throat.

Qui-Gon turned towards him. “Now, what are you waiting for?” A little teasing smile appeared on his shadowed face. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly become shy?”

The teasing tone was putting Obi-Wan oddly at ease. He scoffed at his master, but not without a little smile of his own.

“You can’t fault me for being a little sceptical about the idea of taking my clothes of in this temperature.”

“Don’t you worry, my young Padawan”, Qui-Gon replied while he laid out his own cloak on the floor and then laid himself on it on his side, propping his elbow on the makeshift blanket and resting his head on his hand. There were goosebumps on his arms and the veins on his arm and hands were more visible than usual, but he wasn’t shivering. Was it because his mental capacities enabled him to rise above the discomfort of the cold? If so, Obi-Wan still had a lot to learn…

He only noticed that his gaze had strayed over his master’s body for a little longer than usual when Qui-Gon gently cleared his throat.

“Believe me, I might not be as affected by the cold as you are, but lying here like this for much longer is still not quite something I’m too eager for.”

“O-of course, master…” Obi-Wan tried to hide his humiliation at that by busying himself with his cloak, and then his own belt and sash. He had no problem taking off his overtunic, but when it came to his undertunic he hesitated for a moment. He was a little more, well, private-minded than his master seemed to be, and he had always felt self-conscious about his body… But he quickly reminded himself that he was going to be a jedi knight, and that this kind of thinking was superficial and superfluous. It didn’t bring him closer to the Force, it didn’t help him concentrate on the present; he had to try and overcome those feelings.

So he took off his undertunic with little more than a slight heat rising to his face. This was quickly remedied however by the chilling cold that immediately took hold of his naked flesh, and again he started to shiver pitifully.

“Come on, then”, Qui-Gon said as he scooted over a little, even though there was already enough space on his cloak. “And give me your clothes.”

After a little shuffling and a lot of adjustments Obi-Wan finally lay with his back to Qui-Gon’s belly, all four of their tunics and Obi-Wan’s cloak draped over them. Lying on his side on a stone floor only covered by a layer of rough wool was not exactly comfortable, but he hardly noticed the stone - or the cold, for that - over the feeling of his master’s skin lying flush to his own, his hair scratching his sensitive back, his beard faintly tickling his shoulder and his breath warming the nape of his neck…

Qui-Gon patting his naked arm didn’t exactly help the tingling warmth that pooled in Obi-Wan’s belly.

“I think it should be save if you sleep a little”, his master said. “Makes the night go around a little faster, at least. I’ll not let you freeze to death.”

His voice was so low now that it was hardly more than a rumble, yet a rumble that seemed to roll through his chest and seep into Obi-Wan’s skin. He nodded feebly and buried his nose deeper under the tunics. Sleep sounded good… Though even despite the fatigue that seemed to fill his head with smoke and sand, his heart was beating so fast that he just couldn’t seem to even close his eyes without feeling like all the blood being pumped through him was going to make his body explode at any moment.

He was pretty sure Qui-Gon would notice, if he was listening to his body. There was never real privacy among Jedis; and definitely not when you were lying skin-to-skin with your master. But still he clung to the feeble hope that maybe Qui-Gon was giving him some deliberate privacy. And if he didn’t, he still hoped that he would think that he was just uncomfortable with the unusual closeness. There was no difference between different kinds of nervousness, right? There was no way for Qui-Gon to figure out that the pool of tingly warmth in his belly was slowly seeping deeper, right?

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to cool his head with deep lungfuls of the icy air. There were many things a padawan should feel for his master. Respect, admiration, trust, maybe love - but not the kind of love Obi-Wan had been feeling for Qui-Gon for nearly as long as he had known him. He had always hoped that the tingling feeling he felt when he touched his master, the stuttering in his chest when he saw him with his shirt off, the way his master’s smile ran down his spine like gentle fingertips would be temporary. He knew that, young as he was, he was susceptible to infatuations, to weaknesses of the spirit that prevented him from feeling the pure kind of love he was to aspire to as a Jedi. He did not yet have complete control over his emotions and his body, but that was why he was a Padawan, wasn’t it? Nobody was born with total control. He had to learn. He would learn.

But his body didn’t know what he would learn. It didn’t care for anything that would be. It didn’t even care that this was not an appropriate situation for this kind of reaction. His cock was swelling despite Obi-Wan’s best efforts to stop it. The warmth behind him was just too bright, too loud for his body to ignore. No matter where he shoved his mind, it kept returning to the feeling of that hand on his shoulder, that hair scratching his back, that skin against his own.

That beard scratching against the back of his head.

He held his breath and listened. Qui-Gon’s breath was slow and regular. Was he asleep? Obi-Wan was pretty sure that if something would happen to him, his master would wake up; he had told him that he wouldn’t let him freeze. But he also understood that Qui-Gon must be tired too, and the warmth they had created between them might just have lulled him to sleep… But regular breathing wasn’t enough. Obi-Wan wiggled a tiny bit against Qui-Gon, but didn’t get a reaction.

He still waited for a few more moments. Just to be sure. Then, with bated breath, he whispered, just loud enough that Qui-Gon would hear it over the howling of the storm if he wasn’t asleep: “Master, are you awake?”

No answer. Obi-Wan waited. The breathing stayed as calm and regular as before. The only other thing he heard from his master was a low rasping after a few more deep breaths.

Obi-Wan’s breathing quickened with nerves and excitement as he moved one of his hands down to the waist of his trousers. He sucked in a quick gust of air and held it, fearful that any noise might wake his master up. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband and touched the tip of his cock. He sucked in more air, fighting against the light-headedness as he wrapped his hand around his shaft. His breath came out in a trembling, cautious stream, and he tried to keep his breathing down as much as he could as he started to move his hand up and down, not quite pumping yet, just relishing in the sensation of his calloused palm against the sensitive skin. He hadn’t had any time - or really, inclination - to touch himself lately, and he had thought he had managed to finally control his base carnal desires.

Another day, he told himself. Another day he’d learn control. A day when he was not feeling his master’s hirsute torso pressing against his back.

But it wasn’t just Qui-Gon’s upper body now that fuelled his need. With the movement of his hand, he had brought his awareness down between his legs, and so it was far easier to notice the feeling against his rear. They might both still be clothed in their trousers, but he could still feel the bump between Qui-Gon’s legs, a bump of quite impressive size even. Shame crept into his cheeks at the thoughts that found their way into his mind as he tried to resist rubbing his backside against his master’s crotch, and the grip of his hand tightened considerably. He finally started to stroke himself off properly, pushing his foreskin up and down and thumbing his the pre-cum-wet head while he squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately to keep his hips from moving. Luckily he wasn’t the noisy kind, but he still feared that every hitch in his breathing would wake his master up.

The thought that he was actually doing this came to his mind and shot straight into his cock, nearly making him thrust into his hand. He sped up his pumping as he held his breath, desperate to ride the wave to his orgasm until it crashed while his mind swirled around the knowledge that he was in a lonely cave, pressed up against the warm, half naked body of his master, and masturbating in the full knowledge that it wasn’t just possible that Qui-Gon would wake up any moment, but that there was also basically no chance that his master wouldn’t notice the smell in the morning…

Suddenly Qui-Gon shifted behind him, and his beard rubbed against the back of Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan let out the breath he’d been holding in a low, high-pitched whimper and squeezed himself as his climax pulled the centre of his body through his cock. He kept pumping through his orgasm, until his hand and the inside of his trousers were coated in cum. For a few moments he just laid there and tried to make his breath return to normal, then he carefully wiped his hand on the inside of his trousers and pulled it out. Qui-Gon wouldn’t see the soiled fabric in this way, and even though he felt sticky and sweaty, that was his very own unpleasantness to deal with.

Ignoring the nagging voice in his head that told him that Qui-Gon would be able to smell what had happened, he gave himself over to the gentle buzz running through his body as an aftermath of his orgasm, never noticing that he was drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The storm had died down and he was sweating under the heavy covers when he woke up. For a second he tried to fall back to sleep, but then he noticed that the pressure of his master’s body was gone, and he jolted awake with a start. Sunlight was streaming through the opening of the crevice, and their speeders were gone.

Without bothering to put on a shirt he ran out of the cave.

“Master, where are-”

The sun was gleaming off the naked, sweat-slick back of Qui-Gon, who was bent over one of their speeders, at a perfect angle for Obi-Wan to notice his master’s backside - and in conjunction to this, the unpleasantly stiff condition the fabric of his trousers was in. He winced as he walked down to the speeders, trying not to let his gait show any of the awkwardness he was feeling.

“I have contacted the ship, and our transfer is going to be at the village we were heading to yesterday,” Qui-Gon said, and only then looked up at Obi-Wan. His face was flushed from work and heat, but he still smiled his re-assuring smile.

“That’s great!” Obi-Wan tried to sound as ecstatic as he would have been if he wasn’t still embarrassed about his actions from last night. He wasn’t really sure if it worked, but at least Qui-Gon just nodded and turned to the speeders again. If he had noticed that something was off, he didn’t let Obi-Wan see it.

That was, until Qui-Gon went back into the crevice to fetch his clothes. When he came back, he was holding his cloak in his hands, contemplatively scratching at something on it. An embarrassing suspicion formed in Obi-Wan’s mind, and then-

“Strange… You don’t have any idea what that stain is, do you?”

#star wars #star wars prequels #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon x obi wan #fanfic

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