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oceanpulls · 2 months

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Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross have a plan to soundtrack everything

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross – best friends and Nine Inch Nails bandmates – found unlikely creative fulfilment (and a couple of Oscars) by reassessing what they had to offer as musicians. Now they’re thinking even bigger, and imagining an artistic empire of their own making

By Zach Baron

Photography by Danielle Levitt

Every weekday, Trent Reznor makes his way from his house, a cottagey sprawl behind a white wall in a canyon on Los Angeles’s Westside, to a studio he’s built in his backyard. There he meets his best friend, bandmate, and business partner, Atticus Ross, and they get to work. Reznor and Ross observe the same hours, Monday to Friday, 11am to 7pm. “We show up,” Reznor told me. “We’re not late. We’re not coming in to start to fuck around.” It’s a methodical, orderly existence that Reznor could not have foreseen in the ’90s, when he was fronting Nine Inch Nails and struggling with a drug-and-alcohol problem that was his answer to success. “I would do anything to avoid writing a song,” Reznor said. “I’d rewire the studio 50 times.”

Now Reznor has a wife, Mariqueen Maandig, five children, and multiple jobs. He is sober. Since 2010, when the director David Fincher asked Reznor and Ross to score The Social Network, for which Reznor and Ross won an Oscar, the two men have had steady employment composing for film. This year, Reznor and Ross are also starting a yet-to-be-named company, built around storytelling in multiple disciplines: film production, fashion, a music festival, and a venture with Epic Games.

And then, of course, there is the oldest and perhaps still the most complicated of Reznor’s jobs: being the frontman of Nine Inch Nails. In 1988 Reznor formed what was then a one-man band; the first two full-length records Nine Inch Nails released, Pretty Hate Machine(1989) and The Downward Spiral (1994), have sold more than eight million copies. (Over subsequent years and subsequent albums, the band has since crossed the 20 million mark in sales.) In the ’90s, for a time, Nine Inch Nails were ubiquitous: a phenomenon on the level of Nirvana or Dr Dre. During that decade, the success of the band nearly killed Reznor. “I didn’t feel prepared to process how disorientating that was,” he said. “How much it can distort your personality.”

These days, Nine Inch Nails, which Ross joined as a full-time member in 2016, present a different problem – how do you make something old, something so already well-defined, new again? There are years when Reznor feels like he has the answers and years when he’s less certain. He has put the band on hiatus more than once; after the last Nine Inch Nails tour, in 2022, Reznor deliberately took a break from playing shows as well. “For the first time in a long time I wasn’t sure: what’s the tour going to say?” Reznor told me. “What do I have to say right now? We can still play those songs real good. Maybe we can come up with a new production. But it wasn’t screaming at me: this is what to do right now.”

But he and Ross still come to work, daily, in search of transcendence. “We sit in here every day,” Reznor said. “And a portion of the time organically becomes us just figuring out who we are as people and processing life and a kind of therapy session. And in those endless hours it’s come up: why do we want to do this? And the reason is because we both feel the most in touch with God and fulfilled.”

It is easy to make things when you are a teenager growing up in rural Pennsylvania, near the Ohio border, as Reznor was, and you have nothing to lose and everything to gain; it is considerably harder, once you’ve got older, and found a way to make things that people like, to keep going. It’s an old story: the act of creation can lift you up, but those sharp gifts can also destroy you, and if you make it past that, the sheer blissful regularity of life with money and a family can even you out so thoroughly that there is no friction left to work with. You look inside the cupboard and the cupboard is bare, or it’s a mansion and living inside of it is a person you’re bored of, and so you stop looking. But Reznor and Ross have never stopped looking, and the search for that magical feeling of finding something – that feeling of, in Reznor’s words, “I don’t know where it came from. I don’t know how I just did what I did, but I’ve channelled it into something that worked” – is still the thing that organises their days and their moods.

We were talking in their studio, which was low-lit and cold and full of synthesizers’ blinking lights. Reznor was on a sofa and Ross sat in a chair nearby. The two men first met in the ’90s, when Reznor signed Ross’s band, 12 Rounds, to Reznor’s Nothing Records. Soon after, they became friends, and then musical collaborators. “I was just getting sober,” Reznor said, “and I was in a pretty fragile transitional phase. And I just hit it off with Atticus right off the bat. And part of it was, he was someone who was on much firmer ground, in a mentor-y kind of way, than I was.”

Ross is two years younger than Reznor, but when they met, he’d already been through certain things Reznor was just getting around to. “I got clean when I was very young,” Ross told me. “So I had a bit more experience than him. Put it like this: I knew you could have fun without being high.”

Their friendship has been a constant in both their lives since. “I don’t know if parts of us are broken and we don’t feel good enough,” Reznor said, staring at the ceiling of the studio, “but we know if we work as hard as we can and do the best work we can, it fixes something. At the core of it, that’s what unites us creatively. On top of that, I think his take on the world and role in life helps me understand my place and not feel as detached in some ways.”

Reznor often jokes, or simply explains, that he is a “quart low” on whatever it is that makes people happy. “I think we can both, on our own devices, run below zero as a baseline,” Reznor said. “I don’t mean manic depression, I just mean we don’t take compliments well. It’s like when we won the Oscar, it was the day after: ‘Let’s take today guilt-free, kind of say fuck yeah.’ And tomorrow we’ll have settled back down to a few feet below sea level.”

In their years of collaborating with each other, both men have found some mutual reassurance – a little lift. Reznor gestured at Ross.

“I remember something he said to me – I don’t know if you want me to say this or not – in one of our talks years ago: ‘Here’s what I want today.’”

“I see what’s coming,” Ross said, nervously.

“I just want to feel OK,” Reznor said, quoting his friend. “I want to feel like I’m OK.”

One day this winter, Reznor greeted me at the door of their studio – in the course of reporting this story, I never saw him anywhere else – wearing a black hoodie made by the synthesizer company Moog, black jeans, and black running shoes. At 58, Reznor still retains the angular intensity and jet-black hair of his youth, but time and fatherhood seem to have made him quicker to smile. He looks a little like a college professor now, or an unusually-well-cared-for software engineer. He led me back, past walls of unused gear and several black-clad mannequins, all of which startled me, to their primary workspace, where Ross – a tall west Londoner (he grew up in Ladbroke Grove) with a stern face and a pleasantly reedy voice – sat at a computer, also all in black. (Once, I asked the two men whether their upcoming clothing line would feature any colour. “No,” Reznor said, incredulously. “Of course not.”)

They were on deadline for two films at the moment, including Luca Guadagnino’s forthcoming Queer. “But we’re trying not to work,” Reznor said, drily. Leaned up against one wall was a photo of the two in tuxedos, accepting the Academy Award for best original score for their work on The Social Network. Reznor had contributed to soundtracks before, in the ’90s, but he’d never formally scored a film until The Social Network.

But Reznor and Ross quickly realised that the work, in some ways, wasn’t so different from songwriting. “What do we do when we write a song?” Reznor asked. “We’re trying to emotionally connect with somebody.” Take the Mark Zuckerberg character in The Social Network:“Here’s somebody who thinks this idea is so important that it’s worth kind of fucking your friends over for it. And then realising maybe it wasn’t worth it, or I didn’t realise how I’d feel if I got what I wanted at the price of this. I can relate to that in my own language. Suddenly there’s music.”

“I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor said. “I couldn’t have predicted that I would feel this level of fulfilment.”

And Reznor found that he enjoyed the exercise of solving someone else’s problems instead of his own. “There’s something about not being the boss and working again in service to something that I initially felt guilty for feeling kind of fulfilled by in a weird way.”

Reznor said that on another Fincher film, Mank, the director suggested: “What if it sounded like maybe inspired by Bernard Herrmann and as if it were recorded in 1935 and this film canister sat on the shelf for 60 years?” OK, interesting. (Ross and Reznor were nominated for that one too.)

On the first film the two men scored for Guadagnino, Bones and All, “we got a cut of that that was nearly four hours long with no music and we kind of thought, Oh, fuck,” Reznor said. “Four hours we sat without a pee break, transfixed. It didn’t need music. And when you watch that you approach it differently.” Then Guadagnino brought them Challengers, due for worldwide release in April. Reznor said, “He started us down a path, saying, ‘What if it was very loud techno music through the whole film?’” (This is exactly what it turned out to be.)

“I wish I had his notes,” Ross said of Guadagnino. “His notes were so fucking funny on what each piece was meant to do.”

“Oh, yeah,” Reznor said. “‘Unending homoerotic desire.’ It was all a variation on those three words.”

They liked the challenge of scoring, they found, and that feeling of not being in control. They also liked the way it made them crave being in control again: “It makes you more inspired to work on other stuff when we’re finished,” Reznor said. “Even if it’s just, Thank God it’s done now and we can appreciate the freedom we had before we gave it up.”

These days, Reznor and Ross also like having jobs that let them be at home, around their families. Both men had tumultuous or lonely lives when they were younger; both men have found that fatherhood soothes certain unresolved aspects of their pasts. Ross has three kids, and “probably the greatest reward is how balanced and happy they all are compared to – certainly my growing up was an unusual sort of scenario. It was a fairly chaotic youth.” Ross comes from a notable English family, but his immediate lineage was more unstable. “My dad had a club called Flipper’s Roller Boogie Palace in LA in the ’70s,” Ross told me. “He went bankrupt in England and had a judgment passed against him where he couldn’t talk to a bank manager for 15 years. So he moved here and opened this sort of Studio 54 on roller skates on La Cienega and Santa Monica.” Ross held up a coffee-table book full of photos of the club. “You don’t need to look at it, but it was just a mad life. So I grew up in some madness.”

It is particularly endearing to see Reznor, who at a distance was a fierce and terrifying figure in his 20s and 30s, find domestic bliss. I am old enough that my adolescence coincided neatly with the S&M-flavoured, I wanna fuck you like an animal era of Nine Inch Nails; when I was leaving Reznor’s house one day, I noted with some amusement the cheerful mundanity of a basketball hoop in the backyard. “I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor told me. “I couldn’t have predicted that there was a world where I would have a sizeable family with kids and feel the level of fulfilment and comfort and be able to live in that.”

Was that something you were consciously seeking before you found it?

“I think I had some abandonment issues from my parents splitting up, or feeling I never fit in, and I’d gotten accustomed to being on my own. And largely due to my own, I think, inability to really be intimate with people, or share or be open or know how to be a friend or a partner to somebody… Trying that out and doing it with pure and full immersion has led to an unexpectedly great outcome.”

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The other film project Reznor and Ross were on deadline for was Scott Derrickson’s The Gorge, a science-fiction thriller starring Miles Teller and Anya Taylor-Joy. They were working on a lengthy, music-dependent scene that they’d already mostly scored. But, Ross said, “the director wants it to be a bit more, I can’t think of a better word than just a bit more scary and intense.” They weren’t sure what that directive meant, exactly, but they were content – they were happy – to try to figure it out: to enter the room once again, carrying nothing, and to try to leave it with something that didn’t exist before.

Ross called up the scene on a monitor at the centre of a long mixing board: Teller and Taylor-Joy in an evil-looking spiky forest. Reznor and Ross have somewhat fluid roles in their collaboration, but today the plan was for Reznor to improvise some music while Ross edited and manipulated it in real time. “Atticus’ superpower,” Reznor said, “is that I can come up with a melody and a chord change, and he can make that sit on the scene in a way that is meticulous, and mind-numbingly boring to watch him do.”

A studio assistant, also in all black, presented himself to help Reznor set up a microphone and a cello next to a keyboard that sat underneath another computer monitor. Ross hit play on the footage and what they’d already completed of the score, a kind of haunted, chanting murmur. “It’s basically atmosphere at the moment,” Ross said. Next to him was a synthesizer whose make and model he asked me not to print and which the two men use as a kind of sound ecosystem to feed stuff into.

Reznor began by pushing down on the piano’s keyboard, while with his other hand he manipulated the sound with a flat synthesizer on the desk in front of him. It began as a kind of mellow pan flute thing, and then, with a push of a few buttons, became more of a sad, Social Network-ish plonk. Ross stood up and started tapping the synthesizer to his left, and the sounds Reznor made began to loop and accumulate – little melodic figures that plunged in and out of feedback. Reznor moved from the piano to the microphone, where he sang a few soft passages in a baritone falsetto, more sad than spooky, and then to the cello, which he played slowly and choppily. Ross moved between the computer and the synthesizer, trying to harness it all as it built to a loud, echoing crescendo.

After about 20 minutes, Reznor sat back in his chair, and Ross soon followed suit. Everything got quiet again. “It’s going fishing,” Reznor said to me, shrugging. “Sometimes something happens.”

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Or, sometimes, everything happens. One of the first things you see when you arrive at Reznor’s home studio are two original paintings by the Yorkshire artist Russell Mills – on the left, a razor against a rusty red background; on the right, a decaying yellow-and-black collage – that ultimately became the insert and the cover art for Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral. This is the record with “Hurt” and “Closer” on it. It’s an album Reznor nearly didn’t survive.

Why do I bring this up? Well. If I may, for a moment, sound like the ageing dude in a black T-shirt leaning against the back wall of a bar where you’re just trying to be young and free of recitations of what the year 1994 felt like, there was a different quality to the way things would happen in music. Bands would labour for years, unknown, and then just get struck by lightning, is the best way I can put it: one day, you’re just a guy, and then one radio station plays your song, and then every radio station plays your song, and everyone is listening to those radio stations, because there is nothing else to do, and then MTV loops your video, and everyone watches it because, again, there is nothing else to do, and all of a sudden you are known by millions of bored people in a way that doesn’t quite happen now. This is a gross oversimplification, of course, but here Reznor is, one of the very few people who have experienced the thing I’m describing. I thought: let’s just ask him what that was like.

Reznor said, OK, he could tell me exactly what it felt like. He gave me a single moment: Woodstock ’94, which Nine Inch Nails almost didn’t play – “it seemed like it was going to be gross, to be honest with you” – but ultimately did. “And when we got there, it was terrifying,” Reznor said. “It was way bigger than I pictured in my head and walking on stage. But this is the point of the story: I knew. You could feel like you were in the right place at the right time.”

In retrospect, how did you handle success?

“Had a drink. That’s what sent me down the path. I wasn’t the guy that, you know, at 12 years old cracked a beer. That wasn’t it at all. Just, I feel anxious around people. I’m not sure how to act, especially now that you’re someone that’s supposed to act a certain way. There’s a projection. It feels uncomfortable to walk down the street and people are looking at you because they recognise you. That’s weird. Suddenly everybody wants to be your friend and you’re the coolest. Everyone wants to date you and shit like that.” Reznor said he found it was “easier to have a beer before I go in that room, and then a couple of beers before I go in that room. And pretty soon over a period of time, wait a minute, things start to get out of control. And you know how the story goes.”

Here’s how the story went: Reznor began to wonder if Trent Reznor could ever live up to the Nine Inch Nails guy that people had in their heads. “The reason I was having to drink was to fix that problem, my own insecurity. But the net result is: I’m not really who I am because now I’ve got drugs or alcohol in my system and I’m not thinking as who I really am. And that comes into focus once one gets sober and has time to reflect and kind of think about what got you there and shit you did.”

Eventually, Reznor got sober, and built himself back up. Today he’s happy to talk about all of it, obviously, but he and Ross have done a lot together since – 10 albums’ worth of Nine Inch Nails (Ross was an official member of the band for five of them), among other things – and Reznor is, by nature, not one to dwell too much on the past of a band that he’s still very much trying to figure out. “We’re not fans of resting on our laurels. We’ve been afraid of thinking about nostalgia. That’s a whole other conversation, but the reality is we’re getting older and our fans are getting older and that’s a fact. And I think, say, during the pandemic, not that you asked this question, but as I’m sure everybody was, I was pretty genuinely freaked out and very clearly came into focus: I’ve got to protect my family.”

He was consumed by fear, by terror of what might happen, of what he might do about it. “I can’t even fit all my kids in a car,” Reznor said. “But in the midst of that anxiety, sitting alone in here, I found comfort in nostalgia. I found comfort looking back at things from my youth that I’ve been afraid to even allow myself to glimpse at because it meant artistic death. Because one has to look forward. One can’t be self-referential. I was so afraid growing up in a little shitty town. I could see people that thought the highlight of their life is junior in high school catching the football. You know what I mean? That’s it. That was the peak. I don’t want to fucking be that person. I could see my fate if I stayed in that town.”

In those moments sitting by yourself, what were you getting nostalgic for?

“I miss parts of living in Pennsylvania. I miss a simpler life that I grew up with. I really loved the first INXS album in 1983. I was a senior in high school, and when I listen to it now I could almost start crying because it fucking reminds me of driving in a shitty fucking car in the summer in Pennsylvania. You know what I mean? Man. I allowed myself to kind of immerse myself in who I was at that time, and what it felt like.”

Reznor had been trying to remake himself ever since he left where he grew up, and now here he is in Los Angeles, over 40 years later. “And I kind of went on a deep dive for a while and allowed myself to realise: I am who I am. And the things that made me weren’t the cool things. I’d always been ashamed of: I came from a shitty town; I didn’t have an exotic upbringing; shitty education, you know what I mean? That’s who I am. I’m not sure what the point of all that confession was.”

Well, except: “It plays into where I’m at now.”

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The last time I saw Reznor and Ross, it was once again in their studio. They were sitting very still. Had they been working before I got there?

“We were for a little bit,” Ross said. “And then nervously thinking about you arriving.”

Really? It’s OK if that’s the truth.

“That’s the truth,” Reznor said. They’d just been in this room for the past weeks, months – years, really, he said. Head down. Working. He gestured at me. “It’s a different mindset.”

And “I was thinking about something you said the other day,” Reznor said. That was on a Friday. I’d asked a somewhat rude question about their soundtrack work, which was: why would Reznor or Ross work for anyone else when they didn’t have to?

Now it was Monday. “I thought about that over the weekend,” Reznor said. “It’s like, Why are we doing this? The idea comes from what we think is a good place of ‘Let’s break it up. Let’s get sent down the rabbit hole on certain things and feel like we’ve got tasks being assigned to us rather than us just blindly seeing what happens creatively.’ ”

But, he said, “I think coming out of a stretch of a number of films in a row, I want some time of seeing where the wind blows versus: there’s a looming date on a calendar coming up and we’d better get our shit together. And certainly in the last few weeks I’ve been itching to do what we often do, which is just come in and let’s start something that we’re not even sure what it’s for.”

Some of that energy, he and Ross said, would probably become the next Nine Inch Nails album. Doing soundtrack work, Reznor said, had “managed to make Nine Inch Nails feel way more exciting than it had been in the past few years. I’d kind of let it atrophy a bit in my mind for a variety of reasons.”

But now, “I do feel excited about starting on the next record,” Ross said. “I think we’re in a place now where we kind of have an idea.”

And then there was the company, which Reznor and Ross spent the last two years putting together, piece by piece, with the help of John Crawford, their longtime art director, and the producer Jonathan Pavesi. The idea was, what could they do that they hadn’t already done around storytelling? Some of that might take the form of examining Nine Inch Nails from yet another angle – “we’ve been working on homegrown IP around Nine Inch Nails, stories we could tell, and we’re working on developing those in a way that are not what you think they’d be.” (As in: not a biopic.) They also have a show in development with Christopher Storer, the creator of The Bear, they said, and a film with the veteran horror director Mike Flanagan.

Reznor put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses so that he could examine a piece of paper next to him. “We just wrote some notes because I knew I’d forget what the fuck I’m about to say.” There was a short film coming with the artist Susanne Deeken. There was a clothing venture, a T-shirt line made in collaboration with a notable designer whose name they’d like to keep secret for now, which will arrive this summer. There was a music festival that they were currently planning, “where we’re going to debut as performing as composers along with a roster of other interesting people,” and a record label, both scheduled to launch around the same time.

And for two years they’ve been working with Epic Games on something that is not exactly a video game, in the UEFN ecosystem Epic has built around Fortnite – “It’s what Zuckerberg was trying to bullshit us into calling the metaverse,” Reznor said. “You can’t say that word any more, but in terms of the tool kit, thinking about it through the lens of what could be possible for artists and experiences, we thought that would be an interesting way to tell a story through that.”

They were nervously contemplating the prospect of having day jobs again, of being responsible for more than just themselves. Early on, as they contemplated launching the company, they’d sat down with David Fincher to ask him about movie production: how does it work? “And he’s like, oh, you’re fucked,” Reznor said. “I can distil a two-hour conversation into that. Because, he said, ‘I know you guys, and no one’s going to care more than you do, and you will not be able to let it go.’”

Reznor has actually had this experience before, of being sucked into a project bigger than Nine Inch Nails and having it take over his entire life. Years ago he worked as an executive, first for Beats and then for Apple, building a streaming-music service.

“Trent was very clear when we started,” Ross said. “We cannot let this get into Apple terrain.”

Reznor laughed. “What I mean by that is – I will make this brief; I’m trying to think through what I’m about to talk shit on. Just to self-censor for a second.”

Reznor paused for a moment and then explained. For years, he said, he’d wondered: what would make a good streaming service? This was before the advent of Spotify in the US or Apple Music. Jimmy Iovine, Reznor’s old label boss – later, Iovine would also become Ross’s brother-in-law, after he married Ross’s sister, Liberty, in 2016 – was launching a music service at Beats, which was then acquired by Apple, and Iovine said to Reznor: come try to make this thing a reality. And Reznor surprised himself by saying yes.

“It was a unique opportunity to work at the biggest company in the world at a high level,” Reznor said. “And it was interesting, the scale of the people that you reach through those platforms, just the global amount of influence those platforms can have was exciting. The political situation I was dropped into was not as exciting.”

Reznor enjoyed working with Apple’s design team and its engineering team. “But it made me realise how much I want to be an artist first and foremost.” Reznor also became discouraged with the possibility of fixing the problem that he was trying to solve. “I think the terrible payout of streaming services has mortally wounded a whole tier of artists that make being an artist unsustainable. And it’s great if you’re Drake, and it’s not great if you’re Grizzly Bear. And the reality is: take a look around. We’ve had enough time for the whole ‘All the boats rise’ argument to see they don’t all rise. Those boats rise. These boats don’t. They can’t make money in any means. And I think that’s bad for art. And I thought maybe at Apple there could be influence to pay in a more fair or significant way, because a lot of these services are just a rounding error compared to what comes in elsewhere, unlike Spotify where their whole business is that. But that’s tied to a lot of other political things and label issues, and everyone’s trying to hold onto their little piece of the pie and it is what it is. I also realise, I think that people just want to turn the faucet on and have music come in. They’re not really concerned about all the romantic shit I thought mattered.”

Anyway, Reznor said, turning to Ross, “That was a long-winded way of saying, when we talked about this company, I just said, ‘Be aware of what success might look like because it will turn into something that eats up lots of cycles and time and attention and energy.’ ”

But, Ross said, taking on new responsibilities was, paradoxically, also a way to stay a little younger. “I know we’ve all been talking about being dads and being adults and all that,” Ross said, “and there is a part of me that thinks: it’s important to keep the kid alive.” Meaning the child inside yourself, rather than the one you’re responsible for.

He told a story about him and Reznor visiting the director David Lynch at his house to work with him on the 2017 revival of Twin Peaks. “And I don’t know how old he was at the time,” Ross said, “but he was older. But just walking in there, and he had the room set up and there’s a screen there, there’s some chairs here and there’s some musical instruments there and he’s smoking a cigarette. There’s nothing old about that dude. You know what I mean?”

Lynch showed them some Lynchian footage. It was incredible, even if they didn’t quite know what they were looking at. Lynch was probably 70 or 71 at the time. “But it’s that thing of it doesn’t matter how old he is,” Ross said. “He is alive. It’s that bit of it all that one doesn’t want to lose with age.”

The point was, Reznor said: “Let’s try some stuff. We’re bored. We are. You know what I mean? We’re grateful. We enjoy doing films. We can write a better Nine Inch Nails record, I think. We can put on a cooler tour. We are aimed to do that. But man, what if we try to do that?” Meaning, the company. “What if we could take what we’re good at, like we did with film? We identified something I think we’re good at and we figured out how to apply it to something else. What if we take that theory and try it on some other things? And that’s led us into: we’re not beaten down completely yet. And it feels exciting. That’s what matters to us right now.”

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Styled by Mobolaji Dawodu Grooming by Johnny Stuntz using Dior Capture Totale Hyalushot SFX Makeup by Malina Stearns Grills by Alligator Jesus Tailoring by Yelena Travkina Set design by Lizzie Lang at 11th House Agency Produced by Emily O’Meara at JN Production

#my ninposting #my transcription #trent reznor #atticus ross #nin #nine inch nails #trent #reznor #gq

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yuujispinkhair · 8 months

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Separation Anxiety (Chapter 09)

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

++ Masterpost ++

Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 3k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Chapter 09

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love (Don't You Know by Jaymes Young)

The smell of herbs and candle wax fills Sukuna's nose as he strolls through the narrow aisles of the small deli shop across the street. In his hand is a shopping list written in Itadori's scrawly handwriting.

The irony isn't lost on Sukuna. A thousand years ago, it would have been unthinkable for him to shop for anything himself. He was the King of Curses. He was a God. People brought offerings to his temple, begging him to accept them. And everything he needed for his everyday life got taken care of by Uraume.

But times have changed. His life has changed. Now, Itadori Yuuji has a say in things, too, in their shared household. And as ironic as it is, Sukuna has to abide so he can keep up this little charade.

The brat had been indignant, huffed, and hit Sukuna's arm playfully when Sukuna said grocery shopping was Uraume's job.

"Oh, don't be so lazy, Kuna! The deli shop is just across the street! And Uraume is already busy doing the laundry today. I think everyone should contribute to the household! I will prepare the kitchen, and you go shopping, baby!"

Sukuna catches himself laughing softly at the memory of those golden eyes looking at him so sternly.

The whole situation was rather amusing. So what if the King of Curses is currently looking for ingredients for their dinner? It's fine. He is still the one in control. He just has to make some accommodations. It's part of the plan.

And after all, he is also benefitting from his little shopping trip. The brat wants to cook tonight. He has been watching the Food Channel a lot those last few days and wants to try a recipe he saw there. And Sukuna knows that the boy is a good cook. So if it means getting an exquisite homemade meal, Sukuna is ok with going shopping, or as the brat calls it, contributing to the household.

When he gets back, he is greeted by a smiling Yuuji.

"See, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

The brat looks far too smug, but Sukuna just laughs and lets himself get pushed against the fridge, smirking when Yuuji presses a kiss onto his lips.

Yuuji's tongue delves deep into Sukuna's mouth while eager fingers work to unbuckle Sukuna's belt and undo his pants.

He receives a mindblowing blow job right there, leaning against the fridge, his hands tangled in Yuuji's hair while the boy slurps devotedly on Sukuna's cock, with spit running so lovely down his chin, rewarding Sukuna for being a responsible member of this household.

Sukuna always assumed he would never understand love. And if someone could show it to him, it would be someone who held the same powerful position as he did. Another person who was at the top, sitting on a lonely throne.

He had been wrong.

Because he can see love now. He can see it in a pair of sparkling golden eyes full of warmth and affection when they look at him. He can see it in a broad smile that grows even bigger than the owner of that smile catches Sukuna looking.

He can feel it in tight hugs and sweet kisses. He can hear it in the tender words whispered to him before falling asleep. He can see it in the hundreds of little things Yuuji does for him: A cup of hot chocolate here, a backrub there, letting Sukuna decide which movie to watch or what snacks to get.

Yuuji loves him.

He doesn't love the powerful King of Curses. He loves the man Sukuna. He knows nothing about Sukuna's power or position. The version of Sukuna that he knows is stripped of all those things. He doesn't know that Sukuna could make the world his and give Yuuji anything he could ever wish for.

He only knows his boyfriend Kuna. The man who lives in that penthouse with him. The man who watches movies with him and goes on morning runs with him. And Yuuji loves that man. The man that Sukuna is behind his titles and riches.

It's all based on a lie, of course.

Sukuna isn't that man.

But Yuuji doesn't know any better. He doesn't know what Sukuna did and how he hurt Yuuji and the people close to him in the past. He doesn't know about the death and destruction Sukuna brings with him anywhere he goes.

Itadori Yuuji is just a naive boy who loves with his whole heart. The very heart that Sukuna once ripped out of his chest and threw away like it was trash.

But Yuuji doesn't know that.

Is this fate's irony? That Sukuna finally found the one who can teach him about love, but it will shatter the moment the truth comes out?

"Kuna? Baby? Are you ok? You have that look in your eyes again."

Warm hands cup Sukuna's cheeks tenderly as the boy slips onto his lap and straddles him. There is genuine worry in his golden eyes as he looks at Sukuna.

Sukuna smiles at him. He can't tell if it is a genuine or fake smile. The lines are getting blurred lately. His arms wrap around the boy automatically, holding him safely in his embrace.

"I'm ok, don't worry, darling. Just thinking about the past."

Yuuji nods as if understanding what Sukuna means. His golden eyes wander over Sukuna's face, and gentle fingers trace the black tattoed lines until they reach the scars under Sukuna's eyes. The ones where his second pair of eyes used to be when he was still in his true form. The same scars the brat used to have when they still shared a body. Yuuji's fingertips brush gently over those scars, caressing them carefully.

"Where did you get those scars? Was it some ritual stuff of your family? Like some initiation? Did it hurt? My poor baby."

He leans closer, and his warm breath brushes lightly over Sukuna's cheeks.

"You probably had a rough past, Kuna. And I wish I could go back in time and make it alright for you. I wish I could take away all the pain you experienced. I wish I could have been by your side back then and protected you."

And then his lips land on Sukuna's skin, soft and tender. But it feels as if they burn Sukuna's skin. Yuuji is kissing his scars. And Sukuna can't breathe.

Yuuji's touch is so gentle, and yet it breaks Sukuna more than any violence all his enemies combined have thrown his way.

Has anyone ever wanted to protect him? To save him? It's an insane thought. He came into this world as the strongest, too powerful, too dangerous. Even his mother had feared him. And that's how it had stayed his whole life. People feared him or saw him as a source of power they could use to their advantage. Sukuna was always meant for great things. A new era. A new King. A new God. A monster so powerful it could rule the whole world.

He had never needed saving. It's a thought so ridiculous! As if someone as powerful as Sukuna needed saving! As if someone like him needed a stupid hero!

And yet, a small voice in Sukuna whispers that it may have been different if Yuuji had been there in his past. Maybe things would have gone a very different way. Maybe there could have been another life for him. A life where strength and absolute power weren't the only things he knew. If anyone in this world could have saved Sukuna, it would probably really have been the brat with his stupid, naive heart so full of love.

The brat is getting more restless lately. The morning runs in the park aren't enough anymore. So Sukuna starts taking him on short trips to coffee shops and bakeries. And soon, he finds himself loosening his restraints on the boy. At this point, he knows that Yuuji will always come back to him.

It's even sweeter than having him locked up in the penthouse like a prisoner. It gives Sukuna a deep satisfaction to see the boy willingly come back home to him with a broad smile and his arms full of snacks he bought for their movie nights.

And he always pulls Sukuna into a tight hug after his return, snuggling into his arms, clinging to him as if he feels that dull ache in his chest, too, when they are too far apart. He probably experiences that phantom pain, too. But even without it, he is so smitten with Sukuna that he would never leave.

Such a sweet victory. The brat could run, but he doesn't want to.

Sukuna sighs and gets up from the couch, slowly strolling over to the floor-to-ceiling window. His eyes narrow as he gazes down at the park and then lets his gaze wander over the seemingly endless streets and buildings under him.

Tokyo. Such a big city filled with so many souls, with so much warm flesh and life. A kingdom fitting for a King like him. A huge pot for him to stir. All those lost souls, caught in the loneliness and stress of modern life. He could give them something to pray for. He could be their God. He could make this city bow to him, collectively bringing all its citizens to their knees, worshipping and fearing him.

He could have all that. But he isn't even interested in it anymore, strangely. All his eyes search for in that sea of nameless bodies is that familiar shade of pink.

Two hours pass. The sun is beginning to set, casting a pink and orange glow over the city.

No sign of the brat.

The hollow feeling in Sukuna's chest is growing in intensity.

Where are you?

Did Sukuna misjudge the situation? Did the boy decide to run after all?

The shrill ringing of the phone pulls him out of his thoughts. He hears Uraume answer it, hears them sounding surprised, and then soft footsteps approach Sukuna.

Uraume bows deeply before him,

"Excuse me, Master Sukuna, this was a call from the hospital. Apparently, Master Yuuji was injured, and they called to let you know that he is up and wants to go home. But they won't let him leave on his own."

And just like that, Sukuna's vision goes blurry. Black spots dance before his eyes. The world is out of focus. His blood is rushing loudly in his ears, and his heart is hammering too fast in his chest.

"Master Sukuna?"

Sukuna manages to focus his gaze on Uraume. He nods curtly, shoving his shaking hands deeply into the pockets of his black suit pants. An indifferent smirk lifts his lips, but he thinks he can hear a strained note in his low voice when he replies,

"Alright, thank you, Uraume. Get the car, please. Let's pick that annoying brat up, then. That boy is nothing but trouble."

His jaw clenches painfully once his loyal servant has left the penthouse to get the car.

Fucking brat! What did you do?

Sukuna hastily grabs his suit jacket and shrugs into it while striding toward the elevator with large, hurried steps. The ride to the ground floor takes too long. Sukuna groans, one hand tugging at his tie. Why is it so hard to breathe in here?

When Sukuna strides down the brightly lit hospital corridor, he can already hear the brat's indignant voice carry to his ears, arguing with the nurse.

Sukuna stops in the open doorway, glancing at the hospital bed where Itadori is sitting, shirtless, with a large bandage wrapped around one shoulder and his ribcage. His tan skin is littered with bruises and scratches.

Sukuna feels as if someone landed a punch in his guts.

"Yuuji."

The boy turns his head, and Sukuna's heart constricts when their eyes meet across the room.

"Kuna! They won't let me go home! I told them several times I was ok, but they refuse to let me go!"

Sukuna is the one who closes the distance between them and pulls Yuuji into his arms. His embrace is too tight, but he cannot make himself loosen his hold on his brat. He needs that throbbing ache in his chest to go away. He needs his brat pressed to his body as close as possible to make sure he is ok. To make sure that what belongs to Sukuna is still intact.

He is already using his reverse cursed technique, intentionally, this time, mending Yuuji's wounds, taking all the pain away from him.

His lips move against the boy's temple, his voice sounding strange to his own ears,

"What happened? Are you alright?"

Yuuji nods while his arms wrap around Sukuna, and he nuzzles his face against Sukuna's neck,

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm glad you came here so fast. I just want to go home. It's just a scratch anyway."

At this point, the nurse clears her throat loudly.

"I wouldn't call that just a scratch! He got into a fight and got a stab wound in his shoulder that needed stitches. We advised him to stay here overnight, but he is adamant about going home. I can only let him go if you attest that you will stay with him at all times for the next 24 hours."

Sukuna doesn't even hear the second part. His mind starts spinning when he hears the words stab wound. Hot anger fills him, making him hug Yuuji even tighter. What a mockery that someone attacked Yuuji with a knife, of all things! Sukuna is the Master of a slashing technique! He is the one who slashed the brat open in the past, who severed his limbs from him several times just for the fun of it. But now, someone else cut Yuuji's skin open and drew blood from him! Sukuna is breathing heavily. How dare anyone touch what's his! How dare anyone lay a finger on his brat!

His voice is cold, barely able to hide the fury that's raging through him,

"How did this happen?"

Yuuji looks sheepishly up at him,

"Um, well, this kid got jumped by those three guys. I saw it happen, so what was I supposed to do? I went over to help him, of course!"

The nurse's face softens, and she nods,

"That was very kind of you but also dangerous."

Sukuna's fingers twist in the back of Yuuji's hair.

"Where are those guys?"

He will make sure they suffer before he ends their useless little lives.

"Already at the police station."

Sukuna wants to go after them, splatter their brains all over the floor, and make them choke on their own blood.

Yuuji groans slightly, his hands grabbing Sukuna's jacket tightly, probably feeling dizzy from the blood loss. And Sukuna realizes, to his astonishment, that instead of getting revenge, another matter is more important to him at the moment. The urge to hold Yuuji, to cup his cheek and make him tilt his head up so Sukuna can inspect his face. So Sukuna can see those beautiful golden eyes look back at him with that bright sparkle of life in them. So he can caress that soft skin and see the loving smile on the brat's lips.

His gaze doesn't leave Yuuji's as he tells the nurse,

"He's coming home with me. Hand me the papers I need to sign."

They leave the hospital shortly after, walking towards the parking lot with Sukuna's arm wrapped tightly around Yuuji's waist, keeping him close to his side.

He sits in the back with Yuuji on the drive home, holding his hand, unable to take his gaze away from the pastel pink hair and the pretty face of his former vessel. The dull ache of the missing soulbond is gone now that they are so close again, but to Sukuna's dismay, something still doesn't feel right. His chest feels too tight, and his heart feels too heavy.

"Don't ever do something so reckless again. Promise me you won't get yourself into danger like that again!"

He doesn't know where the words come from. Is this part of the role he is playing? The worried boyfriend? He cannot remember making the conscious decision to say those words.

Yuuji bites his lips,

"I'm sorry for worrying you, baby. But I had to help. I couldn't just walk away."

Of course, you couldn't. Even without your memories, you are still the stupid, selfless hero through and through.

Sukuna doesn't sleep that night.

He lies awake in the king-sized bed with Yuuji snuggled into his arms. Thoughts keep racing through his mind while his chest and throat still feel tight, making it feel like he can't breathe.

He cannot remember feeling this way before, but now, in the quiet of the night, he has time to analyze it and realizes that he recognizes those signs. He has seen them before. Short, fast breath, fingers stiff and clenched into claws, eyes wide open and unblinking. He has seen this a thousand times before, just never on himself, only on his victims.

He knows what this is.

Fear.

Sukuna's body is in a state of panic. Something he has never experienced firsthand before.

And the most troubling thing about this is that he knows exactly what triggered this.

The brat got hurt.

Sukuna could have lost Yuuji. And the thought of that sent him spiraling.

He grits his teeth angrily. It's ironic how he spent years wishing the boy death and ruin so Sukuna could finally break free, only to now cling to Yuuji desperately, afraid to let go of him in fear of feeling him slip through his fingers and dissolve into thin air.

When did it come to this? How did this happen?

Sukuna can't find an answer to those questions that race through his mind. But he lies awake the whole night listening to the soft inhale and exhale of the boy in his arms. His hand comes to rest on Yuuji's chest right above his heart. Sukuna's fingers sprawl possessively over the defined muscles of the boy's chest, feeling the reassuring constant thrum of Yuuji's strong heart, silently counting every beat.

Thank you so much for reading Chapter 9!! Big bad Sukuna panicking when Yuuji gets injured makes my heart happy ;) Did you notice when Kuna suddenly thought of Yuuji as "his brat" instead of "the brat"? I cried so much while writing that. It's the little things sometimes that make me emotional. My fave scene to write was where Yuuji kisses Sukuna's scars, though. That has always been something I NEEDED to write for Sukuita, and it makes me so weak. The thought of someone treating Sukuna with such tenderness makes me sob!! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that it could make you emotional, too. Thank you so much to everyone who keeps reading every update! It means so much to me to share this story with you! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuita #sukuna x itadori #sukuna x yuuji #sukuna #jjk fanfic

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court-jobi · 1 year

Text

We Have Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 4,661

Rating: Teen/Mature (spicy second half) 18+ to be safe, my lovelies

A/N: the helmet comes off, separation anxiety, comfort comfort comfort, oral (fem receiving), hand-holding spicy times, my love language is Mando'a, Mandalorian partnerships are top tier, Soft!Din Djarin

Summary: Your heart is torn in two, where your past life and the one you're living in now come to a crossroads and you need to make a decision. Temporary as it is, the stakes feel higher than ever. You're asked to take part in an incredibly lucrative job-- one that'll bring home the biggest paycheck of your life-- at the expense of six weeks of your time, and away from your life partner for the first time in a year.

Now that you have a home, something to lose... something to miss.

But if there is one man who can make you feel like the only creature in the galaxy he would drop anything for, who would support you and your brilliant mind, who would encourage you to the edge of Wild Space and back-- it is your riduur, Din Djarin.

And your Mandalorian is top knotch at keeping his promises and pleasures to you; will give them to you in equal measure:

--in the light of day, and in bed if you ask...

Read on AO3

"That was quick. Back already?"

You'd stopped under the repulsor grille of the Razor Crest, shuffled about until he wheeled himself out from the underside of the ramp. The moment he saw your face, he sat to attention on his knees.

"--Cyar'ika?"

"He offered me the job."

"Thirty-five…" He repeated, stunned, "thousand credits?"

"--A week;" Dead serious. "Thirty-five, a week."

Din swayed a moment, elbows to his knees; presently, reevaluating all his life choices. “I sure got into the wrong business, didn’t I.”

“Not to brag or anything,” you gave a dazzling smirk his way, “but your girl is a badass when it comes to making the big bucks~”

"What kind of freighters are these?"

"Really kriffing big ones." You gave a smirk, "This is an investment that's gonna take boss-man to the next level of bacta distribution."

"Damn right. It has to be."

How could you not become a mogul with twenty of these freighters in your fleet?

"How long do they need a mech there?" Din asked next.

"Corbyn said the initial contract request outlined work for 4 weeks.." you tweaked the timeline, "-maybe a more realistic five, depending on the speed of things. If they have to order more parts than expected, it could add a couple day’s labor in the meantime. That's not too uncommon."

Din's helmet bobbed around amazed- the tone flowing through his helmet to show he was impressed,

"That's a hell of a job. You handle things like that?"

"I've done it before. You fill 'other duties as assigned' to kill time while deliveries show up. Things that need the human touch, y’know? Not droid repairs or anything. He's probably got plenty of odd projects I can wrap for him in the shipyard. Speeders, junkers, old gunships he likes to restore and lease out."

Comically, Din looked around to the Razor Crest- his own old girl that could use a 'bit of work'.

"If I'd known you could handle fleet tech," he rose to his feet to join you, "I'd have given you the bigger bunkroom from the start. Experience like yours deserves better perks than just any ride-along mechanic. No wonder he wants to lock you in."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic~" You laughed. "I don’t need fuss. I might be in demand right now, but m'not that impressive."

"You are impressive.” Din pressed, “I'm not shocked at all."

His confidence in you never failed to make you beam… though it carried weight this time around. The biggest paycheck of your life is on the chopping block in front of you.

The Mandalorian wrenched the tool against the base of his palm. All teasing aside, the stakes were setting in; you can tell by where he looks off now. He asked the biggest factor:

"...And the start date?"

"Well:" you bit the bullet with a gnaw of your teeth against your cheek, "end of this week."

Din nodded. Brief. Accepting.

"Think you'll be ready in that quick of a turnaround?"

You froze– that assumption was a mega leap. You hadn't even gotten that far.

"He– didn't really give me a chance to ask what I'd need to wrap up; he went to catch someone else before they left the hangar. But good grief, Din," you crossed your arms and furrowed your brows to confusion, "I wouldn't have given him an answer even if he asked– I'd never just do something like this without telling you!"

He seemed to straighten at that. Surprised for some reason, that you would think this way when it was all obvious to you.

You caught yourself– no sense in unpacking that to death. Next question.

"How did you leave things then?"

"Said he'd check back in the morning for my decision either way. He recognized the ship, knows where to find me.." you gestured lightly beside you, the booster you stood beneath.

The tense proposition buzzed around your head. This job looks on flimsi to be the makings of a good deal, a strong as hellfire tick on your winstreak, and one you wouldn't have blinked at six months ago.

But you knew what that would require: leaving. Both your Mandalorian and the Child. Your beloved boys that roped you in and made you their family.

It's funny, the last time you took a job like the old days, things went completely wrong from the start and ended before it ever got off the ground:

It was only a short time after you'd met, but sparks had already begun to fly between you and this Mandalorian; you'd worked so perfectly together so far. In tandem, each other's missing piece. And what's more, you found yourself enjoying the company, knowing you didn't have to go it alone anymore. That was so refreshing– and unheard of. Like the oddest pairing of hard to soft, a sun-warmed kitten to cold humanized steel, you were drawn into each other's orbit to thrive better than you might have alone. This was a partnership, truly. And you saw a solo job as a way to contribute, pull your weight.

So you agreed to one that came your way one day, and called it an easy win- he'd drop you off, pick you up, same time next week. You'd felt a little funny leaving him, even then. In this time together, you knew you’d surely miss his company, but denied yourself any true separation anxiety: it’s not like it was earned. How could it be? You'd just met.

But you'd parted. Gone your separate ways with a rendezvous plan already in the forefront of your mind as you went to meet your ride–

–when an explosion along the tram you were set to board sent a crowd hurtling towards you. If you hadn’t said a long goodbye like you did, if you’d stalled just two minutes less… you'd have been on that train.

It was pronounced a cylinder misalignment, diagnostic fluke or something like that– and not intentional. But you didn’t know that at the time. A sudden burst of fuel setting the entire transport dock ablaze had you shook.

You'd turned tail to run straight back towards where the Mando had left you– only to hear your name being shouted from a clouded receiver, encased in a beskar helmet, somehow rising loud and strong over the swarm of panic-ridden pedestrians…

He was running to you, too.

Didn't bother making other arrangements for the job call in all the chaos, after that. But given that little scare, you both decided to just cut the losses and try again next time the opportunity presented itself. Bad luck, eh? Next time, for sure.

…That was eight months ago. You ruled out any solo jobs, and so did he.

If only for a short tenure, the op; and this time wasn't unheard of or impossible.. But not only were you rusty, but the timing was horrible. And long.

Din set his tool down, finally rising to come up to you.

“We can talk it through all you like…" he posed to you, "But you’ll need to listen to your gut in the end. What do you think?"

You looked back wildly. He was leaving this huge decision up to you?? Did he seriously think you'd blindly accept?

"What do I think?" You started defensive, then… stopped.

Considered, and easing up, you sighed.

You eyed the split in the exhaust somewhere over Din's head, the one on its last leg.

"I think... it would be enough to fix her." You scanned the Razor Crest, her makeshift patches along the outer shell of the thruster. "-And then some. I know money isn't everything, but.. It's a shit-ton of money, babe. It's... doable." you laughed nervously, thankful Din finally joined your side as you explained the pros.

Doable was an understatement. This was more than agreeable, at this paygrade. You'd be a dikut to turn down even half that price.

After he brushed them off a bit, his hands came up to hold your cheeks; visor trained on you, unreadable. But you knew better. He was assessing, looking for the hesitation, the test of any doubts.

"You could stop taking pucks for a while," with a small smile, you caught his wrists in return "Skyborn knows you deserve a break. You can rest up for once..."

He made a little sound, stroking your cheek in a gentle show of thanks. You were considering you both in this, which broke you more to think about going separate ways for a while.

You ran through the logistics, too– the loose ends.

"And– I figured you'd be off to find that Jedi anyway, and I know how you get about worlds I haven't been to before. This would be an easy one. Just your average, smoggy, Corellian garage.You've seen one? Then picture it, filled with bubba Rhodians and Keshiris, and that's the home away from home." You joked gently.

There were plenty of benefits to this arrangement and Din nodded curtly to acknowledge them, but a gentle shake of his head showed he was still pondering some things, unseen.. You really wished you'd told him all this inside, where you could read his reaction better.

The quiet from him was beginning to make you doubt your good reasoning at all.

"Please say something?" You begged softly.

Only one thing came to mind- by the way he was likely running through the script of his whenever he thought of you, you had a good idea what he’d say.

His aliit. His creed. Your safety, above all else.

"This Corbyn... Do you trust him?"

It was a loaded question. Trust was rare for him, yet you earned his. But Din couldn't be responsible for you while in the care of someone else, which clearly had him on edge about all this. He’d surely wanna meet the guy before you shipped out. While that thought seemed parental, you understood it- and would expect no less from the man who valued you like the finest of beskar ingots.

You braved a little smile.

"I do. He's a good guy. Bites off more than he can chew but--- but it's the same setup as I did back when he hired me for the baby stuff,” you squeezed his wrists, “It would be safe.”

A careful thumb came to your temple, brushing the beskar steel adorning you. Pushed your hair back in a stylish fashion, it did– but in reality was your beautiful proposal gift. Then Din traced the skin just below it, raking through your hair. The touch ached.

"I didn't think this would ever happen. Didn’t know he docked this far out for fueling anyway,” you absently studied you Mandalorian’s thick cowl from your spot here at chest level. “I haven't had a way to contact Wid in forever. Hell, I know I used to do this all the time before, but… It's just different now.” you sunk into him. Your gut deflated, sadder the more you spoke. “And if all goes well at the next stop, well… the kiddo will be gone too."

That still made you sick to think about. Your voice was catching and you hated it.

"It's just a lot think about, leaving you right now. I don't know what my gut thinks about it."

Fortunately, he soothed you like no other: at the first sound of distress, he’d slid a steadying hand down to your waist and pulled you close to accept his touch. His forehead met yours.

"Mhi solus tome, mesh’la, bal dar'tome" He spoke softly. "We vow these words for this exact circumstance."

It meant so much more to you now: one when together, and apart.

"My kind, we grow up with buirkan. Our carers have no formal roles. They are buir. They both share the load, they both meet the needs of their ad, their tribe. That’s what partnership is; I… I ask what you want to do, because I know no other way.”

Din caressed down to your chin, taking in your fully torn expression.

“I trust your judgment here, mesh’la. I leave this one to you; you know this kind of work better than I do. If you're comfortable.. and -only- if you're comfortable, and you -want- to do this, you have my support. Always."

You wanted to break at this trust, crush and crumble at his bouying nature. He was handing you the reins as equals, despite the hushed strain he said the words. He could say all the right things, but by no means did he not feel. You knew it wasn't easy– not even for him.

Up the repaired ramp, you caught sight of the child peeking out from the ship’s open door. He called in that funny little chirp– trying to sing again.

You smiled, despite the lurching feeling in your chest shaking you. "Hi, buddy."

He waved and watched his own steps as he hurried down the ramp.

You met his short arms just a step out of Din's hold, and brought the child up to you. He seemed to know something was wrong, because his ears fell back the moment his settled at your chest level where he'd reached up for your face. You shut your eyes at the touch.

"This won't be a forever goodbye." Din soothed you, “You know that, right?”

Din must be forgetting how poor the reception on Corellia is.

You chimed back, knowing the truth for yourself. "Gotta prepare myself as if it is, though."

"We don't know what we'll find there." Din set a hand to your low back again, unable to keep from you for too long. "The Jedi may not even be in Calodan. We could be back before you know it; and we'd wait here until your work term is done."

The optimistic thought did sound better and helped you swallow.

"That's fair. Stranger things have happened."

Your Mandalorian. Sweet, sweet Din. Under the hum of the air reserves cycling outside the ship, he cupped the back of your head and leaned against your temple.

"I know you're torn. But you don't need to worry about us in this. We’re behind whatever you decide."

The child looked to his buir. He reached a bit to his shoulder strap for Din, so you passed him over. That helmet of his hid a lot– but not tone. He clearly didn't like the thought of this either; having to explain to the kid why you’d be gone by the time he wakes up in the morning in a few days.

So he treated it like any other trip.

"How bout it, pal," he spoke with a quirk of the helmet to the Child, "Would you be ok with a solo trip for a while? Just like old times."

The munchkin cooed at this, fingers raking over the notches. He seemed happy, if he understood at all. Good thing he’s young, you thought. A peaceful hope, at the very least.

It gave you a happy comfort– for now.

The real churning would hit you when you gave Corbyn your answer. When he gave you the gameplan for the rest of the team he’s hiring, and when he got to meet your very intimidating Mandalorian husband– who he profusely sucked up to when he observed how protective he seemed of you.

When that last night came and you tucked in the kiddo and realized you'd be packing up for your first real time away from your Mandalorian: your husband.

…for the first time in over a year.

The Mandalorian brought you to bed in the most tender, gentlest way he ever had that night. In complete darkness, the way he did before he'd shown his face: where your senses would be sharpened and you'd feel everything he did, and take your time doing it.

Maybe it was a comfort for himself too, out of an old habit to shield himself while next to bare that you didn't seem to mind. Through little noises: elated, pleasurable, heartfelt, tickled sighs and begs, he always found his way across you.

–But he heard the difference between a gasp and a cry.

At the second you inhale sharply in a clear watery sniff he stopped giving kisses down your ribcage. Where he'd been massaging you with careful, trigger steady hands tucked under your sweater, Din climbed back onto his knees and shifted up to cradle your face with those same warm palms.

"Hey.. I'm right here. What's wrong?" Din asked gently.

You process by his tone that he'd halted altogether–

Hands clawed for his arms to come back around you,

"Nono no, don't stop!"

He thumbed beside your eyes, meeting wetness.

"Riduur.."

"I'm fine, jus-- just keep going, please." your snivels did little to convince him you were okay. Desperate for him as always, but not out of pure lust anymore.

Above you -practically blind- the Mandalorian tensed. Worried for your heart above all else. Testing light, brushing fingers along your neck and onto your chest, he strove to feel past your flushed, quivering shield. To soothe your skin, but also check your heart rate.

He avoided the suspicious edge in his chest with a calm, doting voice,

"We have time, cyar'ika."

"No, we don’t!-- I--"

There it was.

A kiss graced your crown to still you, then a longer one over your lips. He leaned his forehead to yours, calming you with strokes through your hair until you gathered your true thoughts. Naturally, he'd wait as long as he needed to let you continue, but he didn't need to wait long to hear your whisper.

"Tell me again this is a good idea…"

Tell me I need to go through with it, or else I'll talk myself out.

You felt lips trailing lower in soft presses, taking all your piqued attention while they went on the hunt for a sweet spot. Din’s unfiltered voice made you shiver with each bit he’d speak against the column of your neck… down and up again.

He whispered, beyond tenderness and into reverence,

"This isn't going to be forever.” A kiss to your cheek briefly, “You're going to do a great job and you're coming through for a friend. Won’t just help you, but millions in the galaxy who will benefit from the work you’re doing. This is something big, and you're being rewarded for it. This is a good thing."

You heard the smile in his voice and thanked Ashla -once again- for the Grace given to you to have a man like this in your arms.

"You're brilliant, riduur.” Din sang your praises, “You're giving up so much. But I'm really proud of you... This isn't too big for us."

You nodded, getting a grip and gaining a controlling breath.

“It’s not too big for us.”

“That’s right.”

"I'm gonna miss this." You touched his cheek, craving this proximity while you had it.

He leaned into it and kissed the palm when it slid into reach.

"I'm right here."

He is here, and the words warm you through, sending a heat wave that buzzes around your spine when you let yourself believe it. He's right here, and he is all yours. Would be, too, even if you were jumps away in the stars.

You were one when together, and you would be one when apart.

The latter would be tested soon, but that creed? You'd take both truths with you as your own.

He's right here.

And he proved it.

Din's tongue made a few kitten licks as he kissed your wrist next; then down, and down, until he merged both your fingers and pressed where you joined into the space above your head. His order, to stay there, while his left yours to send sparks down your arm on the underside, to tease.

"You know," Din's adoring tone dripped with doting interest while he resumed mapping out your body. "Just like with 'love', there's not really one word to say 'im sorry' among our people."

"You can't– say– just 'sorry'?" Your voice still sounded wet at its edges, but your chest clipped with interest. "What do you say when you kriff up, then?"

Din laughed with a rasp, but answered,

"Depends how big you kriff up. Something small, that's nothing. You'd let it go. No harm done."

–Then Din's hands made a parallel move behind your knees, pulling and pinning them up with a sudden fierceness.

Talking about a tangent: he’s talking about apologizing, but for what… He'd done nothing wrong, you thought. But you let him speak; he's enlightening you. Surely to distract, but by chik it's working.

From where he sat, he was fully between your legs and about to bow over you.

"But when I need forgiveness, true forgiveness–"

You hummed for his answer.

"Ni ceta," Din kissed your sternum. The lips dragged downward in a slow crawl, then nearly growled from the deepest part of him: " 'I kneel.' "

You gasped when his tongue swiped up your core. Every end of your body sang out its pleasure at the touch– his tasting you while on his knees. The heat made you keen. Your sweater didn't stay on for long once he started.

You shucked out of the rest of your nightclothes as easily as you could, then let your arms fall lax above your head again. He wasn't checking that you were holding onto anything, but you minded where he last left them. When you ground up, he pressed you down. When you moaned, he copied you- right onto your clit. And when you sighed his name, those expert hands massaged you within every inch of his reach.

By all means, you should be on your knees for him for as good as he felt, how he was treating you… falling only just short of worshipping you without words.

Your drop was coming, coming, coming, and you were about to completely fall apart by that tongue of his. You told him so, with a quiver to your voice and hands shooting down to stroke along his head between your thighs.

"Din– Din, Din honey…"

He purred into you with a few rounding nudges of his head.

"Yes, m'angel," he whispered in the space between you, between his kisses, "Lemme kneel for you. Lemme send you off right t'night– straight to the stars, cyar'ika."

The telltale sign was your quick breaths and baby whimpers, so Din doubled down and tamped his arms down on your waist– until you came, hard.

You cried out of complete pleasure now, your sobs turning into pitiful begs with a dazed smile that betrayed any tear at the edge of your eyes. You tried to push Din's head away entirely, but he didn't let up until he heard the actual words,

"Please!! Please, n-no more, baby–"

You minded your volume only for the sake of the kiddo outside the door; you didn't want him thinking you were in pain and taking it on himself to investigate (like last time).

Released and limber, you panted as your adoring husband simply took a hand to your core and rubbed it slow and steady to quivering calmness. He licked his own lips with a satisfied sigh in cleaning himself up.

"There she is." Din's praises returned, "There's my happy Love…"

"You're–" you wheezed, "youh-what’dya do wrong… that y’needed forgiveness?..”

He nuzzled into your neck, pleasure and prayers coating each of his kisses: to cover you with his love before you go.

“I’m a selfish man,” Din craved the warmth he found there, “Tempted to devour you where you stood, watching you run through those schematics with your boss today… Had to hold myself back by a rancor’s leash. Can only hope-” he nibbled at your ear, “-that this is enough to atone for this covet’s heart.”

Pride flooded you, invigorating. Filling you even more than his words usually did.

“Well fuck,” you sighed again, “You’re forgiven…"

Din's hands petted you, while he dropped kisses up your body this time, starting to settle. Before he got too far, you halted his ascent by his shoulders,

"But… you don't hafta leave your knees yet.."

With a warm smile you know would be there, you could only feel in the dark how Din’s loving laugh came with its teasing caress to bless you. To wish you only good memories, good thoughts, the things he promised to give you in droves. The love you so much deserved and what he was all too passionate to give you as he knelt between your legs filled you completely, the tale of which came through his tender reach: pulling your thighs back to him– one hanging clear up to his shoulder.

Delicious scratches made by his fingers skirted down that leg. ‘Want’ screamed its way through touch. Touch that you would miss so badly… touch you would crave when you laid down alo-

"Liser ni ceta, ner mesh’la? Cin vehtin, gedet'yu gar se ner riduur ru’kir?”

Din’s words sent you shivering– of course, you had no clue what half of those meant. And he knew that. Cheeky.

But it worked, you know. It always did pull you from your misery– curiosity for this man and everything about him.

“You’re tryna kill me with that mouth, aren’t you?” you chuckled. “Take my heart right outta my chest before I can even think?”

Din kissed your ankle while he teased the soft, supple core where you were about to join– the ‘last chance’ moment he always gave you. Encased in darkness, your sign of ‘yes’ in lieu of a nod was a wiggle to ‘get a move on’.

“Have that already, I think. Just as you have mine,” Din slid home and relished your sigh at the intrusion. His own groan sent his breaths reeling at the new closeness.

“Really not fair I– (ahhh) can only catch l-like– two words outta that..”

Din ground up into you. He’s not really setting a pace yet– just getting comfortable and giving you time.

“You know me. I prefer to show you what I mean anyway, Angel-Eyes.”

God those pet names… You’ll miss them as if you’re missing a limb. How will you manage..-

“Gotta remind you of what’s waiting for you when you come home to me,” Din broke you from your thoughts, “...N’... have something to remember you by.”

Relaxing around him, your eyes fluttered shut. Home– that sounded heavenly. And if you had more of this– a lifetime of it, even– well that sounded worth it to you.

And that little comment told you everything: he’s going to miss you, too.

You moaned lightly, reaching for his shoulder to pull him down. So, he released your leg to make room, and gave you a full, searing kiss once he laid flat. Even if your positions were reversed, he couldn’t meld with you any closer.

“S’this ok?” he whispered.

You whimpered your ‘yes’– a happy one, now. Full.

So you didn’t bother asking what that string of Mando’a meant– but gave your best guess.

“Then– f’you’re asking to make it last… so I can’t forget…” you begged with hands locking onto his, “then yes. Please, riduur–”

Heart thundering wildly in your chest, you caved when Din leaned in and started kissing your neck so deeply, and so strongly, that you knew you’d have no trouble remembering him for the next several weeks.

Surely it would pass quickly- life had a way of doing that. All was going to work out.

He would be here for you– together and apart.

He only broke off from the dampened skin of your neck to bow into the curve of your shoulder– before throwing his entire self into your loving embrace from the power of his hips. He kneels there, just long enough to hear you:

“Make this last for me.”

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #spicy times #star wars fanfiction #the helmet comes off #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

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authorhjk1 · 11 months

Text

Date

Lee Ahin X Dj Soda X Male Reader

Yes. Until tomorrow. Alright. Have a nice day."

You hang up and look at your desk. It's overflowing with paperwork. A contract here, a document there. Although you worked, while you were away, your office didn't seem to stay quiet.

You begin with the first documents on a huge stack of paper, which your secretary brought in earlier. After the first couple of pages, you hear a knock on your door, before you hear it being opened.

"I'm busy, Mi-ra."

Your secretary doesn't answer.

"Did you at least bring the documents for the Korean Air contract?"

You are too focused on your paperwork. Only after a couple of minutes, you realize, she still hasn't answered yet.

When you look up, it's not Mi-ra, who entered your office.

"Ahin."

You greet her, before finishing the last two sentences you were writing. Once you put your pen down, you can't help but let your eyes roam her body for a second, before focusing on her face.

Her tight black dress hugs her body. It exposes her creamy thighs and her shoulders. Her chest looks a little bigger than usual. Ahin's blonde hair flows down her left shoulder, almost covering one of her earrings. Although her face is usually on the cuter side, her red lipstick makes her seem more mature and seductive.

Ahin told you, that she wanted to have a serious conversation, but you already know where this is going to go.

"I thought we were gonna meet tonight. I'm a little busy."

The blonde shakes her head, while crossing her arms.

"I want to talk about this, now."

She is usually not that straight forward, but you see how she is slightly tapping her heel on the floor.

"What do you want to talk about?"

You stand up from the chair and lean against the side of your heavy, wooden desk.

"I-I want to talk about our relationship."

"Our relationship?"

"Yes."

Ahin keeps talking.

"I know, you must think I'm a slut or something, because I slept with you on the first date."

The words begin to spill out of her and her cheeks redden.

"But I'm not. I only sleep with a man, whom I really like."

She looks away, before glancing at you, just to look away again.

You are surprised, to say the least. Ahin has never been this shy. She always struck you as a confident woman. But here she is, telling you her feelings like a little high school girl.

Her hands play with the dark hem of her dress. Her eyes wander through your office, occasionally meeting yours. The confident Ahin you just saw is completely gone.

"But we never-"

"Only once."

You stand up straight.

"We met before?"

She nods slightly.

"In Paris."

You try to search in your memories. When was the last time you went to Paris? It must have been a couple of months ago. Before you bought the company and moved to Korea.

You begin to remember. You were learning Korean at that time. When you visited a Korean restaurant, you practiced your pronunciation, but the waitress was only able to understand half of what you said.

"The restaurant."

Ahin nods, a relived smile on her face.

"I'm the girl, who told you how to order."

"You are the tteokbokki girl."

The blonde chuckles at her ridiculous nickname.

"That's me I guess."

"But we never met after that."

"We didn't. But I got an offer from your company later."

You remember that. Because you weren't familiar with any Korean celebrities, you left the modelling to someone else.

"And you recognized me?"

"Yes. I found out who you are and I got interested."

"Interested?"

You feel Ahin slowly loosing her nervousness, the more she talks. She probably waited for this moment, since you left and she seems to have expected the worst.

"I checked out some of your videos and stuff."

She probably means interviews you had. Or the videos, with which you started your first business?

"And that made you like me?"

Ahin blushes once again.

"A little, yes. That's why I took the job. And that's why I went out with you."

You realize, that you still haven't given her an answer. But, when you look back on the time you spend with her during the last weeks, there is only one right answer.

"I'm honestly really enjoying your company."

Your words make her smile. A glimpse of hope sparkling in her beautiful eyes.

"If you have time tonight, I would like to enjoy it a little more."

"Is that a date?"

Her whispered question makes you laugh.

"It is."

Ahin's bright smile lights up your office. She steps closer and wraps her arms around you.

"I was so scared over the last week. I thought you wouldn't come back. Or you wouldn't like me."

Hugging her back, you pat her head lightly.

"Just call me when you are scared."

Ahin looks up at you. You reach forward and slowly push her hair out of her face.

"I will."

On instinct, you lean down, kissing her forehead.

The blonde stays in your arms a couple of moments longer, before she finally takes a step back.

"I have something else to tell you."

You raise your eyebrow, telling her to keep talking. Now, Ahin looks a little nervous again.

"While you were gone, I- I kept touching myself. Thinking about you."

She looks to the ground. Her cheeks red once more.

"But it wasn't as good as when you..."

She trails off, before looking at you again.

"I'm happy that we are dating now. But that's not enough for me. I need more."

Her hand slowly reaches out, playing with the sleeve of your shirt.

Ahin told you, that she only sleeps with a man, whom she really likes. She seemed genuine and you wonder how much she likes you, if she admits something like this.

"I-I can't wait any longer, since you're back now."

Ahin always gets shy, when she asks for sex. Usually, you were the one, who initiated it.

"I'm desperate."

The needy look on her face is evidence enough, that she has been missing you. If it's physically or mentally is not of importance right now. You feel yourself starting to care about only one thing. The thing that's now exclusively yours. Her body.

You place your finger underneath her chin, making Ahin look up at you. Your thumb grazes over her full red lips. Taking a step forward, your nose is almost touching hers.

"Is this the actual reason, why you are here?"

Ahin can't answer, when your lips meet hers. Your left hand is slowly traveling down her body. Over her back, towards her butt. Squeezing it, you make Ahin moan into your mouth, which enables you to enter her mouth with your tongue.

By now, you have begun to understand the young blonde's body really well. You know what she likes and what she pretends not to like. Your hand on her chin moves to stroke her cheek.

Breaking the kiss, you let your thumb graze over her lips once more. Ahin's breath is a little shaky.

"You said you are desperate."

She nods as she takes your thumb into her mouth.

"Prove it."

Ahin closes her eyes as she starts to suck on your finger. She pretends it's your cock, while she lets her tongue explore every inch of it. Your other hand moves along her waist, reaching her side.

Searching for the hem of her dress, you slowly hike it up as you watch Ahin suck on your thumb.

Once you have had enough, you let your right hand fall down. You can't see the colour of her panties, since Ahin is now standing on her tiptoes, while she is kissing you again, but you can feel them blocking your way towards her core.

Pulling them aside slightly, you feel Ahin tremble in anticipation.

"I didn't expect you to be such a naughty girl."

You mumble into the kiss as you let your finger slowly glide over her snatch.

"I am. For you."

Ahin whimpers into your mouth, when you finally part her lower lips with one finger.

What she told you was true. She did touch herself, while you were away. But her orgasms were sorry cries of the pleasure she usually got from being with you. To Ahin, her fingers didn't compare to your fingers, or your cock.

The desperate rubbing of her thighs against each other, is proof for how much she missed you. Her breath hitches, whenever your thumb meets her clit.

The young blonde has already given up on kissing you as she is slowly falling apart in front of you. The last time you have been with her, you found Ahin's soft spot. And now you use it to make her eyes fall shut, her lips tremble and her breath hitch.

Curling your finger inside of her, makes Ahin sigh in pleasure. Your other hand holds onto her waist and turns her a little, before leaning her against the edge of the table.

Her head falls back. Locks of pure gold glisten in the midday sun. Taking the advantage of her new posture, you decide to mark her.

Ahin told you before, that you should only leave marks, where no one can see them, but you decide that you know better. Her neck is your target and you feel Ahin humm in acknowledgement.

The feelings for her, which slowly grew stronger over the time you were away, are now taking over. That picture she send you is still carved into your mind.

Feeling Ahin tremble against you, you know what you need next.

Leaving her tight snatch, earns you a small whine from her, before she watches you lick your finger. Ahin tastes as amazing as always.

Holding her by her waist with both hands, you sit down on your chair, pulling Ahin with you. She lands on your lap, her smile showing, that she knows what you want.

She can feel your hardness underneath your pants. You have been like this, since she came in earlier. Now, Ahin holds your face with one of her hands, while giving you a deep kiss. The other moves downwards, slowly working on your belt.

Resuming your work on her neck, you hear Ahin sigh.

"People are gonna talk."

She sounds a little worried, but the lust in her voice is more than noticeable.

"Let them. You are mine now."

The blonde seems to like your words as she works on your pants even faster. Slightly raising your hips, Ahin gets them off and you are satisfied with the large dark spot on her otherwise flawless vanilla skin.

The woman on top of you lets some of her spit fall onto her opened hand, before she reaches down. As she meets your cock, the two of you hold eye contact. Her dark orbs sparkle, a slim smile plays around the corners of her mouth.

"You got no time to suck me off?"

You ask her teasingly.

"Tonight. I need to feel you now."

As Ahin coats your cock with her spit, you take her waist into one of your hands, while the other reaches upwards. You cup her breasts over the black fabric of her dress.

Although you want nothing more, than to bend Ahin over your desk and make her scream, you know that she is craving something else right now. Something more intimate.

Raising her hips with your hand, you make her hover over your cock. You watch how your tip slowly parts her lips as Ahin sinks herself onto you.

Her head falls onto your shoulder, even though you are only halfway inside.

"I forgot how big you are."

She whispers into your ear as you wait for her to adjust to the old feeling of being filled by you.

Ahin starts off slow. She brings her body up and down, almost making you want to take control. But she seems to like it very much. Her half open eyes are looking over your shoulder, out of the window. Her words are reduced to sighs and moans as she moves on top of you sensually.

You are surprised at how much you actually begin to like it. It feels more intimate than just raw fucking.

"I can't stop. This feels so good."

Ahin's head is nestled into your neck. You feel her warm breath on your skin. Your hand has moved up to lazily stroke her hair.

Going slowly like this has many positive side effects. One of which is Ahin's tightness. It feels like her pussy grips onto you stronger. Her walls glide along your shaft, squeezing tightly. You feel everything inside of her and you relish in the feeling, that you are now truly home inside of her body.

Ahin's small whines and slow movements are suddenly interrupted by a knock on your door. The blonde freezes in place. Although she is head over heels for you and really enjoying herself right now, she is still a former member of a girl group. If she is caught like this...

"Not now, Mi-ra!"

You don't know how your secretary would react to this sight. Her boss sitting on his chair, while a gorgeous young woman is sitting in his lap, her dress hiked up to her waist.

"I have the documents for the airline with me!"

"Leave them on your desk!"

You are glad that Mi-ra knows, why you are telling her to not come in. Let's just say, you almost got caught before.

The sound of your secretary's heels slowly fading, seems to have flipped a switch inside Ahin's mind.

Her head is still buried into your neck.

"Please fuck me now. I need it."

Her plea makes you a little more excited. You were enjoying it so far, but you knew, that you wouldn't be able to cum very soon.

"Let's ruin your office, boss."

Her teasing tone makes you see red.

You almost jump off the chair, making Ahin yelp in surprise. She slightly giggles, when you start walking. She is lighter than she seems and you can easily carry her around. The blonde slings her legs around your torso as you carry her through your office.

Once you finally reach the big glassy conference table, you place Ahin down on it. She feels the cold surface on her ass, before she lies down completely.

You stayed inside of her and you are not going to pull out soon.

"I would rather ruin you."

Ahin's eyes grow dark with lust and you start to fuck her hard. All the teasing and the sensual riding earlier left unsatisfied needs within you. Finally releasing them, you take it out on Ahin.

She arches her back off the table as you pound into her. There is no build up needed anymore. You just hold her by her waist, fucking her on the table in your office.

She moans with every thrust. It makes you slowly reach forward. Ahin's eyes tell you to choke her harder, when you fingers find her throat. You make sure that you are not hurting her as you make her cough slightly.

"You like this? You like being used like a plaything?"

Ahin is barely able to nod, you grip on her throat is too strong. You cut off her moans and now she has become a shaking, wordless mess. Her hair is sprawled out all over the glassy surface. Both of her hands are trying to hold on to either side of the big table, but she can barely reach them. Her body rocks back and forth, making her butt and head glide over the smooth surface.

Earlier, Ahin was enjoying being close to you. She wanted to feel you, savour the moment. Glad that the two of you are now dating.

But eventually, she knew she couldn't hold back. Ahin is usually a normal young woman. But when it comes to you, she would do anything. She can't believe that she is letting you have so much control over her body. But she can't deny how much she is loving it.

The way your left hand presses down onto her tummy, feeling her slightly defined abs, pressing her back into the cold glass. Your other hand, closing around her throat, not too tight, but just enough for her to have a little trouble to catch her breath. Your eyes, which are wandering over her half naked body, before they meet hers. And Ahin's most favorite thing. Your cock hitting her soft spot over and over again.

"So-so good."

Her voice sounds raspy and broken, so you decide to finally let go of her throat. The blonde breaths heavily as she feels herself getting closer.

"Just like that. Make me yours."

You feel another wave of feelings hit your body. Ahin has never looked more beautiful. You can't describe it, but you can feel it in your stomach. After the two weeks apart and after her confession, you feel more connected to her. And not just because you are fucking her senseless in your office. But because you care.

"Right there! Yes!"

Ahin's eyes are closed. Her mouth wide open. She throws her head from side to side. Her nails scratch over the glassy surface.

"I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it."

You lean a little forward, grabbing a fistful of her blonde locks. You force her head off the table. Her eyes shoot open as you make her look at you.

"Cum for me, Ahin. Cum for me. Now."

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, when she can't hold back any longer. You hold her by her hair and waist as Ahin cums on the conference table.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!"

She trembles like a leaf as you keep pounding her through her orgasm.

Ahin is usually not a squirter, but now you see some of her juices glisten on the glass. You keep going, not wanting to stop.

As Ahin's orgasm slowly dies down, yours starts to approach. You knew that this was coming sooner or later and you regret that you can't keep it off longer.

"Ahin..."

You groan as you feel the familiar feeling in your center. There is no need to say anything else, but her name. Ahin knows what it is. She can feel you starting to twitch inside of her. She can feel the pull on her hair getting stronger. You are almost sure that you are leaving marks on her hips, with how hard you are holding onto them.

But Ahin's eyes show, that she is loving it. She loves that you want to show that she is with you. Her messy hair in your hand. The large dark spot you left on her vanilla skin, right on her neck. She feels like she is wanted, when you do this to her. In this moment, Ahin doesn't care about the consequences. So what, when someone sees a hickie on her skin? She is allowed to have fun, right?

"I need your cum. I don't care where. Just give it to me."

Her begging sends you over the edge. It only takes you a split second to decide, where you want to cum. You have cum a lot in and on Ahin. Leaving her tight snatch, you feel yourself cumming. Your semen leaves your cock as you start to paint her body white. It hits her pussy, her lower stomach, her right thigh and her dress. The white streaks of your cum glisten on Ahin's body. Her black dress is stained as well. There is no way she can leave, without anyone knowing what you two did.

You try to catch your breath as you slowly let go of Ahin's hair. She rests her head on the table as she recovers as well.

"That was..."

Ahin looks at you. Her eyes still a little glassy.

"Wow."

You smile at her as you see her like this. She is on full display on top of the conference table. Her messy hair is everywhere. Your cum is still staining her body and her dress, before she slowly starts to scoop it up with her finger.

"I haven't tasted this in too long."

She licks her finger clean, moaning in delight.

You have to look away, knowing that she could convince you to go for a second round. But you still have work to do. As much as you would love to spend the rest of the day with Ahin, you know there is still stuff to do.

While the blonde slowly gets off the table, you walk towards the small closet in the corner of your office. You mainly use it for your own suits. It has happened a couple of times, that you were too busy to go home or sleep, so you stayed here. And that's why you have a couple of spare suits. And something else. In case something like this happens.

You take out a summer dress, which is hanging in the small closet. It's white with small roses on it.

"What is that?"

You have to admit that you are feeling a little guilty to show her this, but you can't let Ahin walk around with cum on her dress.

"This is for.."

You try to find the right word.

"Emergencies."

"So I'm not the only one you fucked in your office?"

Ahin looks at you in disappointment.

"N-No."

She stares at you, until you finally keep talking.

"But you are the only woman apart from the housekeeper, who knows what my house looks like from the inside."

You hope that this will make it a little less awkward.

"And I hope it stays that way."

You nod as you hand her the dress.

"From now on, you will be the only person I will be sleeping with."

Although the decision is a tough one, you know it's right. Ahin is a wonderful woman and you can't disrespect her by sleeping around.

To your surprise, she shakes her head.

"Honestly? I don't care if you have sex with other women."

You raise your eyebrow in suspicion. This seems like a trap.

"I mean, we would have to have rules for it, but I don't have a problem."

"You are joking."

Ahin shakes her head.

"I'm not. When I saw you and Karina coming out of the dressing room, I was angry. Yes. But not because you had sex with her. I thought the two of us had something special."

You realize that that's true. Up until now, all the women you have been with after Ahin, were excellent, no doubt, but they weren't Ahin. With her, you could talk afterwards for a while, before going to sleep. Or you could make breakfast with her, joking about this and that. She has become more than just a sex buddy.

"I think we do. That's why I won't sleep with anyone but you."

The blonde shakes her head, before she pulls her black dress over head. You can't help but stare at her bra for a moment, before your voice catches your attention.

"I honestly have to say that I found it hot. After you were gone, I imagined how you and Karina did it. How she made you cum. How you made her cum. I even asked her about it."

"You did?"

Ahin nods.

"I'm sorry, but this feels too much like a trap."

You say that as she is about to put the new dress on. She stops halfway and laughs heartily.

"Don't worry. I'm being serious. I heard what you did with Yuna and Ryujin."

You watch her in stunned silence as she resumes to put the summer dress on.

"How?"

"News travel fast among idols. Plus, I'm good friends with Lia. She is one of their members."

"I see."

You are still hesitant. What would you do, if the woman you are about to date, tells you to sleep with other women? And that she thinks it's hot?

"But like I said, I have a couple of boundaries."

"You want to sleep with other men as well?"

Ahin shakes her head.

"Like I said, I only sleep with the man, whom I like. Singular."

You nod in understanding. It seems like Ahin is actually serious.

"First, you don't invite any of the girls to your house."

You guess that's reasonable.

"Two, you have to tell me afterwards. I want to know, with whom you are sleeping with."

She is now sitting in your chair, while you are leaning against the desk. "Anything else?"

"Don't get any of them pregnant."

"The only girl I'm gonna get pregnant is my wife."

"Not me?"

She chuckles at your wordless expression.

"Anyways. Those are the things that I care about. Except for that you can do whatever you want."

When Ahin gets up, she thinks of one more thing.

"Ah. The most important one. You can only have feelings for me. When you feel that you like someone else, you have to tell me. And no presents like jewelry or anything."

"I don't buy you jewelry either."

Ahin pouts at you.

"It's not too late to start."

"You have more than enough money I think. Last time I checked, I'm paying you a lot to model for my company."

Ahin twirls around in her dress.

"Rightfully so. I bet you are barely able to keep up with making new clothes."

You chuckle at her playful confidence.

The date you and Ahin went on didn't go according to plan at all. The restaurant you wanted to take her to, was closed due to some health violation. Then, while you were driving around the city to find something better, you got a business call. It took about twenty minutes, while you were standing in a parking lot. You knew that Ahin wasn't enjoying herself, but she didn't complain.

It was hard to concentrate though, because you kept glancing at Ahin. Earlier today, you were unable to appreciate her creamy thighs, but now she is showing them off. Her knee high, white boots highlight them even more.

And when you have to ask the man on the phone, to repeat what he said, you see a smile appear on Ahin's cute, red lips. Her blonde hair is now flowing down her shoulders in small waves. A pair of golden sunglasses are decorating the top of her head. She is wearing a dress again, but this one is even shorter than the black one. You knew that you would take her home tonight, no matter what. But her dress mad it even more exciting. The red and white clothing only barely covers her thighs. She has to wear small, white shorts underneath it, so that no one can catch a glimpse of her panties.

Once you finally end the call, you apologize.

"It's fine. As long as we are spending time together."

Ahin places the sunglasses on her nose as she looks outside.

"I feel like a real celebrity right now."

You chuckle, before opening your phone.

"You wanna eat in here?"

"Isn't the car expensive?"

You shrug your shoulders, before you open one of the apps to order.

Now it's Ahin's turn to get a phone call.

"Oh. Hi Sohee unnie."

You glance at her. That's not the Sohee you know. Right?

"I'm out right now."

You only hear Ahin's end of the call.

"Maybe tomorrow."

She whispers into the phone.

"I'm on a date."

You don't hear the response, but you see Ahin blush.

"Stop it, unnie."

You get distracted by the headlights in your side mirror. Getting out of the car, you walk towards the delivery guy with your food. It's better if he doesn't see Ahin. After getting back in the car, Ahin seems to have finished the call.

"This is yours, I believe."

You open the lid and give her a pair of chopsticks as well.

"Tteokbokki girl."

"Yah. I have a name, you know."

Opening the box of fried chicken, you eat one, before turning towards her.

"You don't like it?"

"Well.."

Ahin eats a rice cake, while looking outside.

"You do?"

She doesn't respond, but you see her smile in the reflection of the window.

"Can you turn right here?"

You do what she asks.

"Is this a shortcut?"

"No. My friend lives here."

You keep your eyes focused on the road.

"I thought we would spend the night together?"

It takes effort not to sound disappointed. You looked forward to the date and it's aftermath, while you were working today.

"We will. Just not in your house."

"You want me to sleep at your friends place?"

"The two of us planned to hang out together this week, but her schedule changed. She is gonna leave on Sunday."

"That's in two days. Can't you meet tomorrow?"

Ahin shakes her head.

"Trust me. You want to sleep at her place."

You wonder if that's true.

Your doubts are erased, as soon as Ahin's friend opens the door for the both of you. She didn't say anything about what you were gonna do here, but the way her friend looks at you and the way she is dressed makes it pretty obvious.

Her black shorts don't even attempt to hide anything. You can see the small outlines of her cameltoe. When she hugs Ahin, you see that the shape of her ass is more than just visible. Her yellow lacy top is very low cut. Because you are taller than most of the people in Korea, you can actually see everything. Her heels, which are matching the top, are even higher than Ahin's. It feels like not even 50% of her body is clothed. Her hair is blonde as well, but it's cut short. It makes her look more sexy, while Ahin has cuter vibes.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Sohee."

"Nice to meet you."

"The two of us have a song together. It's called 'OK'."

Ahin explains their connection.

"Maybe you know me from my stage name. DJ Soda."

You have never seen her before, but you can't wait to get to know her better.

"You must be (y/n). Ahin told me a lot about you."

You are pretty sure, you know what Ahin told her. And Sohee doesn't even try to hide it, she lazily plays with one of the straps on her top, while scanning your figure.

"And the two of you are dating now?"

Ahin nods.

"We are. But would you mind letting us inside, before you undress him with your eyes?"

The two of them seem close and Sohee just steps aside. She closes the door, once all of you are inside of her apartment.

As you watch her friend getting a glass of water for Ahin, you wonder, if this is a trap. She told you explicitly that she is okay with you sleeping around. But it just sounds too good to be true.

"I will be back in a sec."

Ahin walks off, to what seems to be the bathroom. While she gets past you, she gives you a wink, before letting her hand graze against your crotch.

"Please sit down. Make yourself comfortable."

You follow Sohee's invitation and take your place on the sofa.

"Tell me."

She whispers, after sitting down on the coffee table in front of you.

"How good is Ahin in bed?"

"I think you should ask her yourself."

You hope she is coming back soon, Ahin seems like a wonderful woman and you don't want to mess this up. It is still not clear to you, if this is a trap or not.

"Ahin told me everything already. She said you can fuck her all night."

"Well... That's maybe a little exaggerated."

"Is it? Why don't we try?"

Her hand sneaks towards your knee and you feel her nails dance over your thigh.

In that moment Ahin finally comes back. You almost expect her to tell Sohee to leave you alone. Instead, she starts to laugh.

"I told you unnie. There is now way you could suck him off, while I'm gone."

"What?"

You look at the two of them.

"We made a bet. Unnie said she could seduce you immediately, I said, you would at least wait for me to come back."

"Fine you won. So what?"

Sohee rolls her eyes.

"Why don't you let her do what she wants?"

Ahin sits down next to you. Her hand on your shoulder.

"Fuck her."

You stare at her eyes for a moment. You only see lust in them. Similar to when you made her cum in your office earlier. There is no way you can resist now.

Sohee seems to have seen it as well. Her hand moves towards you to undo your belt.

While she gets your pants off, you look at her. You don't know what it is, but she makes you want to use her. To just use her like an object. The way she is dressed, the way she behaves, the way she talks. She is almost begging for it.

Ahin whispers into your ear.

"She likes it rough."

You were already hard, since the moment Sohee opened her door. Without hesitation, you grab the back of her head and force her onto your cock.

She lets out a surprised cough, but stays in place. Her throat feels a little tighter than Ahin's does. You push her further down your length. When you hit the back of her throat, you realize, that she can't take more. Literally. She can't fit all of you inside. The space from her lips to your base is almost two fingers wide. You try to force her further, but she starts to cough up spit.

You let her go, watching your already in saliva covered cock fall out of her mouth.

"Oh shit, that's deep."

You only give her a second to breathe, before you grab her head once more. Sohee closes her eyes as you force her down.

"Oh. That looks good."

Ahin leans forward to get a better look.

"You should fuck her face, honey."

She keeps calling you all these nicknames, when you are fucking her.

But now it's Sohee's turn. While your cock is still rammed down her throat, you slowly stand up, making her move as well. You see her trying to breath through her nose.

"You wanted to know how I fuck Ahin? Let me show you."

Her eyes light up as you hold her head in place with both hands. You retreat a little, enabling her to breath for just a moment. A second later, your cock is down her throat once more. Sohee chokes again. Strings of spit connect her lips with your cock, when you leave her mouth.

It starts to leak out of the corners of her mouth as you begin to fuck her face.

"Yes. Make her gag."

Ahin is now the one sitting on the table, while you have forced Sohee onto her knees in front of you. The younger blonde cups her breasts over her red dress.

Looking down, you see that rivers of saliva start to reach Sohee's wide open cleavage. You increase your pace, not satisfied with how good she still looks. Something deep down tells you to ruin her face. You can't fight it and so you do your best.

Sohee's gagging becomes louder as you hit the back of her throat over and over again. It feels like you are fucking her face faster than your heart is pounding.

Ahin's left arm is behind her, supporting her weight as she leans back. She lazily lets her hand glide over her dress. It enables you to see the large wet spot on her safety shorts.

"Give it to her. Give her your cock."

Ahin wasn't lying, when she said that she gets off on this.

Encouraged by her lewd words, you focus back on Sohee. She looks like she is just letting everything hit her. Her eyes are closed, she doesn't struggle. She chokes from time to time. But apart from that, it feels like you are fucking a flashlight.

By now her tits are completely wet. A small puddle of spit has already formed in front of her thighs.

"Let me help you."

Ahin has watched enough and is now kneeling behind Sohee. She holds the older blonde's face in place now. You grab her short hair. The two of you are using the older girl like a toy. Only for your pleasure.

When you lean forward a little, you can see the black shorts, which are hugging her ass tight.

"You wanna fuck her?"

Ahin seems to have seen, what you were looking at. You nod, unable to form words. Sohee's throat is making you go crazy.

"Get on the couch, slut."

Ahin lets go of Sohee's head and you loosen your grip on her hair. The blonde is finally able to catch her breath. It feels like your cock is twice as heavy as usual, due to all the spit.

When Sohee is still recovering for a couple of moments, you run out of patients. It's her fault, when she wears these clothes. You pull her to her feet and spin her around, while stepping behind her. Pushing against her back, makes Sohee fall towards the sofa. Her upper body is hanging over the backrest, while her ass is in a perfect position.

To your surprise, Ahin is faster than you. She gives her friend's ass a loud spank.

"You are gonna love it, honey."

Squeezing her ass, you make Sohee moan.

"Oh fuck. Give it to me."

She still sounds weak. But you don't care. This fire in you is still burning. You don't know what it is. Maybe it's her outfit, or her style, or that Ahin is watching.

Either way, you begin to peel the black fabric off her ass. You do it slowly, revealing more and more of her porcelain like flesh.

Once her pants are sliding down her thighs, you give her a good spank.

"Oh god!"

Ahin follows suit, giving her another one. The two of you work together, turning Sohee's cheeks into a bright red.

Usually, Ahin isn't this dominant, but she is enjoying herself more than she expected. Her eyes glisten with lust, when she watches you finally lining up your cock with Sohee's soaked cunt.

The face fucking and the spanking must have turned her on more than you thought.

"Make her cum on your cock, like you do with me. Show her what a whore she is for her friend's daddy."

Spreading the Dj's ass cheeks apart, you take a good look at her pussy, before you slowly slide inside.

"Holy shit! More!"

You keep pressing forward, until you finally bottom out inside of her.

"Holy fuck!"

Ahin grins widely at her friend's comment.

"Fuck her good."

You do as she says. Cutting the build up short, you start pounding into Sohee after only a couple of slow thrusts. You feel her shift around a little, trying to find a spot, where she can take it the best.

"Fuck yes! Tear my pussy open with that cock!"

While fucking her harder, you squeeze her ass with your left hand. It makes her moan louder as you reach forward to grab the back of her neck.

"Fucking use me! Use me like a toy!"

You don't have anything else in mind as you pound Ahin's friend into her own sofa. The hand on her neck makes her look up straight, enabling you to watch her expressions in the mirror in front of her. Sohee's eyes are shut. Her lips are pressed together, when she isn't moaning. The knuckles of her hands turn white as she holds onto the backrest for dear life.

You could have fucked her like this for hours. If it wasn't for Ahin. At first the sound of your hips, meeting Sohee's ass and her lewd moans, were the only sounds in the room. But soon, you start to hear desperate whines on your right.

Turning your head to the source, you see Ahin lying on the sofa, her head resting on the armrest. Her safety shorts are discarded onto the floor. The lack of underwear and with that her ulterior motive are more than obvious. She draws circles on her own clit, watching you fuck the life out of her friend. Her half open eyes show how much she is enjoying it.

You only get distracted for a moment, before Sohee makes you focus on her again.

"Harder! Harder! Make me cum!"

As you keep pounding into her tight snatch, your hand leaves her neck to travel towards her chest. Slipping underneath her skimpy top, you start to play with her breasts. They are bigger than Ahin's, but you feel they are missing something in comparison to the woman next to you.

"Fuck yes! Almost there!"

Sohee's moans become louder and louder. Her pussy becomes wetter. Her eyes are still shut. And then she cums. She is suddenly silent. Not a sound escapes her mouth. You watch her wide open mouth in the mirror as her pussy contracts around you. It tries to make you cum as well. But there is still someone, you have to take care of.

Ahin is now knuckle deep inside her own pussy as she watches her friend orgasm around your cock.

Except for the muscles in her pussy, Sohee seems to be lifeless. Until she starts moaning again. As if someone paused a video.

"Holy-Holy fuck!"

"Do me now, daddy. Do me, please."

You slowly leave Sohee's wet cavern, making her moan one last time. Reaching to your left, you position Ahin right next to her friend. Bend over the backrest. Her hass up. Her head hanging off. Her golden hair barely touching the floor.

"Yes, daddy. Fuck me, please."

There is no need for a build up with Ahin as well. She has played long enough with herself already.

When you enter her, it feels like her pussy is already used to being filled by your cock. Her tight walls wrap themselves around your length immediately, holding you tight.

You resume your pounding, but this time you are fucking a different pussy. You can't help but compare. Ahin's is tighter, while Sohee is a little bit more wet.

Speaking of. The older girl is still hanging off the backrest as if she is asleep.

"Oh, daddy! Your pounding my pussy so good!"

You reach forward again, but this time, you aim for the girl's hair. Pulling on it, makes Ahin raise her head. She grunts slightly as you pull a little too hard for a moment. The slight pain is washed away quickly by your thrust.

Now, you are able to watch her gorgeous face twitch in pleasure as you fuck her from behind. You see her biting her lower lip, trying to silence herself.

"I want you to scream. Tell me how good you are feeling."

Ahin's eyes shoot open and she focuses her gaze on yours.

"It's so good! You are pounding me so hard, daddy!"

You feel yourself getting closer as you watch Ahin's body getting rocked back and forth in the mirror. Leaning forward, you start to kiss her exposed shoulders. You can taste the salty sweat on her skin.

You want to make Ahin cum before you do. But the combination of Sohee's throat and pussy and Ahin's tight snatch prove as to much for you. Feeling, that you are holding her waist harder and harder, Ahin knows that you are about to cum.

"Yes! Fill me up, daddy! Fill me with that cum of yours!"

Sohee finally seems to have regained her senses. She is now kneeling on the couch, watching how you fuck Ahin.

"Cum in that pussy. Ruin her."

The seductive look she is giving you finally trips you over the edge.

You groan as you unload inside of Ahin. Rope after rope of cum paints her insides. You are surprised at how much you are shooting inside of her. After a couple of moments, you are finally drained.

You wish you could stay in her forever, but Ahin still hasn't cum yet. As soon as you leaver her snatch, Sohee takes your place. Hungrily, she starts to eat her out from behind, before any of your cum can leak out of the younger girl's freshly fucked pussy.

"You taste so good with his cum."

It takes her about a minute, until you see Ahin starting to tremble. Her hand is covering her mouth. The only thing you can do is watch as her friend makes her orgasm, while she eats your cum out of her pussy.

#kpop #kpop girls #kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #ahin momoland #lee ahin #dj soda

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year

Note

marriage of convenience and hair brushing/braiding for rexwalker, if you feel up to it?

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

This ask meme is from over a year ago. Please don't send new prompts.

52. Marriage of Convenience 94. Hair Brushing/Braiding

Is it bad that my first thought is actually inspired by the Ob*kin fic Their fragrance came from you? There's a whole thing about Tatooine marriage braids that my mind immediately jumps to lmao

I think... let's say modern AU. Anakin is a single dad, has been for a few years. Padme died in childbirth, and while her will was made out in favor of Anakin and the kids, the executor of her will was her lawyer-mentor, Palpatine, who couldn't touch the trust funds set up for the twins (which are very large, and will become available when they turn 25, but can only be accessed for education costs before then), but did manage to somehow take almost all the liquid assets left for Anakin in bogus fees.

Anakin's still got the house, but as time passes, he's having more and more trouble with paying the property taxes. He's still managing, but the money Padme left for him is slowly dwindling, and the kids are going to start costing more as they get older, and he's already got Ahsoka living with him (she helps out with the kids so he can work, coding from home, since he's paying for her college tuition; she doesn't have to pay rent since she's a commuter student, and she's got a partial scholarship, but that's still a few thousand a year coming out of Anakin's pocket to put his little sister through underrad). Obi-Wan offered to help, but Obi-Wan lives on the other side of town and even tenured professors don't earn that much, compared to Coruscant's standard cost of living, especially since Obi-Wan adopted recently, a little girl called Reva, and--

Anakin's struggling financially, basically, which isn't a new circumstance, but he really doesn't want to lose Padme's house. Worst comes to worst, he can probably sell it back to Sola so it stays in the Naberrie family, and she'll let him keep living there, but... that's not a sure bet. The Naberries are comfortably wealthy, but it's still an entire house.

Rex, a college friend of Anakin's that went to the same aerospace program, comes back to town. He was on a military tour overseas, but got honorably discharged due to a head injury. Anakin offers to let hm sleep in the guest room, since Padme's house (it's still Padme's, in Anakin's mind), is a lot bigger than Cody's apartment, even if there are toddlers at large. Rex initially promises that he'll only stay long enough to find an apartment of his own, except he overhears Anakin on the phone with Obi-Wan about the finance stuff one day, and reaches out to a few people who have been in town more consistently for a better idea of what's going on without getting too deep into Anakin's business.

Rex manages to get a job locally; there's an airfield for hobbyists a few miles out of town, and the place is looking to hire a new engineer on staff to do repairs and checks on the small planes they keep on site. He starts making noises about moving out, and then, 'subtly,' suggests he just stay at Anakin's place and pay rent.

Anakin does not like the idea of Rex paying rent; friends don't do that! Anakin isn't going to make Rex pay rent in Anakin's home.

They don't talk about it for a few days, and then there's... IDK a night 'off,' where Obi-Wan or Sola or Aayla or Beru takes the twins for an evening, and Ahsoka goes out with friends, so Anakin can take some time off from being a Dad and just Relax.

He and Rex break out the wine, get tipsy not truly drunk, and Rex pokes at the 'just stay here' option again. The house is closer to the airfield than most apartments, and Rex can help take some of the weight off of Anakin and Ahsoka's shoulders with regards to childcare! Even if Anakin won't accept him paying rent!

Anakin argues this. Anakin's kids aren't Rex's responsibility, and Anakin doesn't need his charity (which is, of course, how he views Rex's suggestion). They go back and forth on the topic a few times, and then Rex throws out something about getting married 'for lower taxes' and 'it's not rent if it's my house too, right?' and it's. It's a joke.

Except they're both still thinking about it the next morning, with faint (but not faint enough) memories of a tipsy kiss before bed, and--

Months pass with the two of them circling around each other and Rex never quite moves out, and tax season rolls around, and Anakin is stretched so thin, even with all the cuts for children and covering a dependent's tuition and so on.

Rex quietly floats the idea of a convenience marriage again. It doesn't have to mean anything, if Anakin doesn't want it to. It's not an insult to Padme's memory, just a way of keeping her children in the house she chose for them. And it's not charity, because Rex will get tax cuts too, and better health insurance once Anakin can put him on the family plan he's got. It won't do anything for this year, but by the time the next year rolls around, Anakin will have less of a problem paying those taxes, even if that promotion he's been hoping for doesn't come through.

Anakin, eventually, agrees.

Just four months later, they tie the knot. It's a small ceremony, more than just a courthouse and a paper, just to... well, Anakin wants Rex to have this. Leia and Luke don't entirely understand what's going on, but Ahsoka told them that it means Rex is going to be staying for a lot longer than they originally planned, and they're pretty excited about that part. They're four, and 'Daddy's friend that we like a lot is staying' is pretty clear.

They don't have a 'traditional' wedding night, because they're still both looking at this as a platonic thing (it won't stay that way, but it still is for now). They do share a bed, because someone is sleeping in their guest room (IDK who, maybe a guest was too drunk post-wedding to get home and they just offered the room). Anakin's hair is long enough for an evening of people and, importantly, sticky toddler hands to have tangled it. He washes it out, comes to the bed, and looks so tired--because he had to wash the toddlers first--that Rex offers to brush it for him.

It's intimate. Gentlemanly, but intimate. They go to bed with warm cheeks and pounding hearts, and eventually, one of them rolls onto their side to cuddle.

Neither of them get much sleep that night.

#star wars #the clone wars #rexwalker #captain rex #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #skywalker twins #modern au #obi wan kenobi #phoenix answers memes

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iamthecomet · 1 year

Note

mommeeeetttt,,,,,

mountain in the kitchen eating a banana cuz he wanted a quick snack!! aeth walks in and sees him eating the last banana and gets upset (he wanted it) so mountain playfully offers to feed it to him, but aeth will never say no to nana!! Mountain tries to push it as far as he can cuz he wants to see if aeth will gag (he doesn't lol just stares at him like ??? and takes the BIGGEST bite off the banana) Mountain is kind of surprised but also turned on!! asks aether if he can also take him without gagging (bc monster ghock amiright?) the rest is up to you <3

Raavveeennnnn. Finally. FINALLY. getting to the banana fic. <3 <3

Aether doesn't have a gag reflex. Mountain feels like he should have known that before now. It's important information, crucial even.

He holds Aether's gaze, as the banana disappears into Aether's waiting mouth. Aether winks at him. He reaches up to take the banana from Mountain's grasp so he can actually eat it. Mountain lets it go without a though, he's too busy watching Aether pull it out of his throat and take a sizable bite. He swallows, his mouth is dry. "Why are you looking at me like that," Aether asks, happily taking another bite of the banana that was supposed to be Mountain's breakfast.

"You didn't--I thought you'd--"

"What? Gag?" Aether winks at him again and turns headed out of the kitchen. "I've had bigger things in my throat than this." "What about me?" Mountain says, all in a rush. He doesn't plan to say anything, the words just spill out of him. He feels his face heat as soon as they're out.

Aether's sucked Mountain off plenty of times. But never like that. He rarely gets deep-throated. There's a lot of him to swallow down, and he's just as happy with a good old-fashioned blow job. Or, at least, he was until this exact second. Aether licks his lips. His eyes dart down to the front of Mountain's sweatpants. His cock is already fattening up against the fabric, there's no hiding it. "I can do it," Aether says, confidently, almost nonchalant, like it's a foregone conclusion.

"You never have."

"You never asked." "I--"

Aether's on his knees in front of Mountain before Mountain has fully comprehended what's happening. Aether reaches up, pulls Mountain's sweatpants down, and curls his fingers around his half-hard cock.

Mountain thinks about stopping him. It's 10am. They're in the kitchen. But then Aether's rolling his foreskin back and sucking the head into his mouth and Mountain's brain turns off. Shuts up. Relents. Mountain rests one hand on the back of Aether's head. He braces himself on a chair with the other. As Aether sucks more of him into his mouth, works him to full hardness. Mountain isn't sure what he expects. Something slow maybe, Aether building himself up to take him. But that isn't what he gets. Instead, Aether takes him fully in one go. A slow easy slide until Aether's nose is pressed into the coarse curls at the base of Mountains' cock. He doesn't gag. He doesn't sputter. Instead, he looks up at Mountain, doe-eyed, lips and throat stretched around him. And Mountain feels his knees go weak. Aether swallows around him and Mountain can't fight the sound that comes out of him, can't help the way his hips twitch forward. Aether pulls off and Mountain watches each slick inch emerge from his plush lips with rapt attention. "Told you," Aether says with a grin. Then he pushes away. He stands up. Mountain grabs for him but Aether slips out of his fingers. "What? Wait--"

Aether uses his thumb to wipe an invisible drop of drool from the corner of his mouth. "Did you want something else?" Mountain blushes. He glances down at his wet cock, then back up at Aether. He'd like to say something, but he doesn't know how to get his brain back online enough to put his dick away, never mind find words to ask Aether what's happening. "Don't worry big guy," Aether says, turning and heading for the door. "I'll finish you off later."

#comet writes #ficlet #request #raven #aether/mountain #mountain/aether #mountain x aether #aether x mountain #ghost fic #ghost fan fic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fan fiction #nameless ghoul fan fic

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mewmckenna · 3 months

Text

Thoughts about Eliza x William and Nash

As we have come to the end of season four of MSATD, I have been rethinking some of the aspects of the show. From the very beginning of the show, I was a hardcore Eliza x William shipper, as I think most people were, but recently I have certain reservations about this ship and it's all Patrick Nash's fault.

I have always been a fan of William as a character as I think about his character arc and the development he has gone through over the season. I rewatched parts of season one recently, the end of season one, and yikes he really was just saying things. However, William has grown and he has certainly become more supportive of Eliza’s career, going so far as to go out of his way to help her and compliment her skills when she doubts herself. I don't dislike William and Eliza as a couple now, but I find that they are no longer the most intriguing option for me anymore though I know they are almost certainly going to be endgame. Perhaps they could be enough for me in another world where there is not another option for Eliza sitting literally Right There, who does not and has never had the same scruples about her gender and her abilities.

The issues that Patrick has with Eliza are not because of those aspects of her identity, but rather the areas where their personalities, styles, and sometimes morals do not align. That being said, they also tend to work through issues much quicker and easier than Eliza and William do. Their problems tend to only escalate when their goals deviate and Eliza and Patrick can disagree about things without it becoming a bigger problem. Nash wants to protect his business and Eliza wants to prove herself and to do the right thing. These goals do not always align and this causes friction between the two. This, however, seems to be something Patrick is actively working on as he mentions both in season two and season four how she makes him want to be a better person. Also, while William spends much of the first couple of seasons actively trying to get Eliza to change and become more like what their society wants her to be, Nash never has this expectation of her, having only known her as a detective. This is therefore a common area of disagreement for Eliza and William that she is able to avoid with Patrick.

Eliza and William also have this issue of differences in goals but I’m not sure how the writers are planning to rectify the issue. As Arabella says in season 3, Eliza will always choose her job over anything else, including William. While I am personally not a fan of Arabella because of the whole Victorian-pick-me-girl thing she has going on, I do agree with her here. We see this issue being brought up again in season 4 when William decides to go to America. He knows that a future with Eliza could only happen if something in their relationship gives, and at this point, it seems like it’s going to have to come from him. His idea of marriage has certainly changed over time, but his issues with Eliza’s position remain, as he says when he tells her that he leaves. William can’t continue working with the police while she is an investigator and she will not stop working just so that they could be married.

William himself sees the impossibility of the situation, and frankly, I think that the only way that they could end up together would be for him to leave Scotland Yard and come to work with her at her agency. Eliza has of course already offered this to him once in season two and he was very much against the idea, but I think in season five William might have enough development to understand where she’s coming from. That being said, as they are now, I would honestly hate for either of them to have to give up their ambitions for the other. Perhaps William is going to get even more development in season five and decide to give up on his career with the police. If not, the end of this show will be rather shocking for the larger audience lol.

#patrick nash #eliza scarlet #eliza x patrick #msatd spoilers #msatd s4 #miss scarlet and the duke #scarnash #miss scarlet pbs #patrick nash the man that you are #he has me rethinking my otp of four years

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coldshrugs · 5 months

Text

talk me down

pairing: io laithe/estinien varlineau word count: 1.8k note: this is a modern au in which io and estinien are roommates but io has been offered an orchestra chair in a city across the country; she accepts it. estinien is grumpy about it. some cursing and alcohol mentions.

There’s nothing between them—not like that anyway—so why is he bothered?

Io would be stupid not to take this opportunity. Estinien told her that much. He insisted. And when it became real, well… it was easier to be excited about an application than the acceptance.

Now it's easier to hide.

Estinien shifts his weight and the fire escape creaks, another notch in his confidence that this place is actually suitable for inhabitants. The rent is cheap and the neighbors mind their business. That's always been good enough, because Io made it home.

The sounds of her going-away party stream from the window he crawled through. He tries not to think about each second bringing tomorrow that much closer. Focuses instead on the cars a few stories below, the wail of a siren in the distance, the glittering lights and warm breeze and none of it works.

Two years in this apartment together, a few years of therapy and studying and feeling each other out before that. “Friends” doesn’t feel like the right word, but it's the word he's got. The word they use.

Tomorrow he will take her to the airport and watch her fly east, and that will be that.

“Hey,” she says, more question than greeting. Io is already halfway through the window by the time Estinien turns around. “I thought you’d be out here. Everything okay?”

Last he saw her, she and their friends were getting a little rowdy during a drinking game, making the kind of memories he isn’t ready to accept as only memories. Each time she laughs, it’s a reminder this is finite. This isn’t how his life will be next week, or six months from now, and will they even be in contact next year? Just… fuck. So he came out to the fire escape (where it’s easier to hear her if he can’t see her), a reasonable behavior any of the people inside would expect from him.

Except for Io, who knew a going-away party was not his idea from the moment she walked through the door. And she knows he’s not out here just for a smoke.

Her hair has frizzed a bit with the sheer amount of body heat in their apartment. She wears an alcohol blush and a smile that says I can leave you alone if you want. But that’s the last thing he wants so he digs deep, past his natural inclination to run away.

“Just needed some air.” He lights a cigarette and leans against the rusted metal railing. An invitation if she wants it. “You know how it is. How I am.”

Io nods, and the sobering breath she takes, the mental armor she slips on to be around him right now... it kills him. He thought he was doing a decent job of keeping his sulking to himself. Her eyes flick to his, then out at the restless city as she says, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s you.”

But she decides to ignore the eggshells for now and pulls up next to him at the railing, their backs to the noisy street below and the bright lights beyond. Shoulder pressed tight to shoulder, and there's nothing between them.

They face the worn, brown-brick building. Their home. Tucked into the corner of the fire escape, Estinien catches only blurred glimpses of the party inside, but someone (Thancred) has found his guitar and a chorus of off-key voices squeeze out of the partially open window to join them in this already public hideout.

Io hums along for a line or two, then nudges him gently. “You like this song.”

“Alberic likes this song,” he corrects.

“And you like what he likes. Albie may not be your dad, but your taste in music? Something genetic about that.”

A tiny part of him wishes she would stop. That she wouldn’t put her blowout evening on pause just to stand in the dark with him. That she’d do him the service of pretending she doesn’t know his life inside and out.

But the bigger part of him is selfish.

He nudges back. “Yeah, well, you try being impressionable and depressed at fourteen, getting dragged to Blue October and Hinder shows every month. Not my fault it stuck.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Io shrugs. “It’s not just Albie, either. I like how you pick up things from people you love.”

What does he say to that?

His responses snag on "I like how you," trying to twist it into something... Something. So he takes a long drag from his cigarette and says nothing. As they stand there, listening to their friends (badly) sing this song, leaning on each other a little heavier than before, he wonders what she thinks he’s picked up from her.

The song ends in a round of cheers and whoops that cut through this little calm. Estinien shakes his head. Maybe they should go back in. He might be more fun after a couple of shots.

Next to him, Io laughs. The sound is small and out of focus, her real laugh. It’d be lost in the noise inside, so he commits to a few more minutes on this metal deathtrap.

“What?” He passes her the cigarette and she takes it without looking.

He looks though, watching the way their fingers graze, barely, handling something small and smoldering so delicately. Watches her follow some movement from inside, her smile creeping from lips to eyes until the skin on her nose wrinkles. A strand of dark hair blows across her cheek. She raises the cigarette to her mouth, pulls in a slow breath, and his smoke rolls between her lips and into the night.

She passes it back to him, still looking inside.

“Urianger just cleared the table for a tarot reading, but Tataru picked up his spread like he dealt her a hand of poker.” She mimics holding the cards, laughing again. Looks like her buzz is back, and maybe he’s catching it too. “He looks crushed. Ugh, I'll miss this. How am I supposed to do this without you guys?”

Estinien chuckles. He takes a final draw and stubs out the finished cigarette. “They'll be lost without you and you know it. You won't be left out of anything, whether you like it or not.”

“What about you?” She turns to him, breaking the line of warmth at their sides. Replacing it with a teasing smile. “Can't wait for me to go so you can finally have some peace and quiet?”

He looks through the grates under their feet, thinking about this apartment—this city—without Io: Never finding his clothes in her laundry, no surprise takeouts when he’s home late from work, not getting absorbed into her fucking obscure dramedy binge-watches. Her quiet hope, the music she radiates even in silence. The thing that’s taking her away.

How did she come to occupy so much space in his life, burning through him, like smoke in his lungs? Their friends won't be the only ones lost without her.

“That’s not true.” His lop-sided grin feels out of place in this sea of sudden nerves. Honesty has never been a difficult thing before tonight. “I’m gonna miss you like hell. I just—” he looks at her, and now he’s the one being watched. She holds him in those big, dark eyes, and maybe there is something between them. Maybe it’s always been there, dormant, or intrinsic and now he's forced to see it for what it is. “I just worry you leaving means we won’t… be like this anymore. That you won’t miss me like I’ll miss you.”

“Estinien—”

“Io—”

“Hey,” she says. Comfort, not a greeting. She surges forward, arms around his neck and waves of puffy blue hair in his face. He feels her cheek on his neck. Her breath, warmer than the night.

The railing is a sharp pressure against his back as he wraps his arms around her, squeezing her closer. The wind moves their hair and clothes, but they stay, swaying when one repositions an arm or chin. The lights and sounds fade to nothing. There’s only this.

Estinien isn’t ready to let go when Io loosens her grip and pulls back. He hasn’t fully etched the feel of holding her this close into his memory—then there's another feeling. Io presses a kiss to his cheek, so soft he isn’t sure it’s real. She turns her eyes on him again, and his are wide with surprise.

“Estinien." Her voice is low. It shakes. "All I can think about is how I miss you already.”

She lingers, too close to the corner of his lips, arms loose around his neck. Her full weight leans against him, trusting him to hold them both upright. What the fuck is happening? He hasn’t processed her breath rushing over his mouth or her half-closed eyes when she pointedly brushes her nose against his.

He doesn’t know when he started wanting this, but good god, he does. Whether she is in the next room or two thousand miles away isn’t going to change that.

He nods. Their faces glance. There is something comforting in the way even that new touch feels natural. They hover in the almost of it all, and Estinien wonders for the first and final time what Io’s lips will feel like against his, how she tastes.

They meet, then they sink. He follows her lead, the gentle press and the beginning of a hungry rhythm. Her hand drifting from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, and he shivers at the thought of her sliding it into his hair, fingers tangled and tugging—

Glass breaks, and so does their kiss.

“Shit!” Cid’s unmistakable voice is thick and slurred.

Io bolts toward the window. “What on earth did they do?”

“Hey,” Estinien says softly. She turns back to him and when they're eye to eye, he knows she finds his meaning without the need to spell it out. She’s confused like he is, and sheepish delight brightens her expression as she waits for him. “Are we okay?”

“We’re always okay.” She climbs back into the apartment and pokes through the window again. “Now please come back inside. I don’t want to be at the party you planned if you’re not there.”

She air quotes you and planned. Estinien laughs through his nose, but even this pulls him toward her.

“Fine. Move so I can get through.”

They rejoin their friends. Tomorrow still fucking sucks. The difference is now Estinien thinks about how his life will be next week, or six months from now, and how many times he will have kissed Io by next year.

#azia writes #io/estinien #io laithe #otwr au #i truly do not know what is happening anymore but #i'm having fun #i miss writing modern stuff like. the energy i had during the wayhaven days flowed through me for this one #i'm not editing this. it's just write and post. BYE #i feel like. they're not saying or doing enough in this #but that's fine because in the story of this au that's in my head all of this means so much a;sljfdlsk

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lovvecherrymotion · 3 months

Note

Bojere & 17 for the kiss

thank you so much for your request, anon! sorry i took a little, but i hope you enjoy this! 💚

Bojere: ... to distract.

Jere can see Bojan’s anxiety grow bigger as the time for the flight approached. He’s clearly trying to make an effort not to let it affect him or the time they’re spending together, but Jere can tell he’s not being exactly successful.

So he’s determined to make it better – because it’s what Bojan deserves, after all.

“Do you want to take me to that nice place again before you drive me to airport?” He asks and Bojan focus his attention on him; his expression confused as if he hasn’t heard a single word Jere said. “Those three bridges over river? I can’t remember if you said name. Slovenian words are difficult.”

“No, I don’t think I told you.” Bojan smiles and Jere finds himself feeling a little relieved after that. “And you Slovenian has improved a bit since you got here. You remember how to say thank you, now!” And he gets a small laugh out of Bojan which he counts as victory.

“Not everyone can be language genuius like you, Bojan! Don’t laugh!” He feigns being hurt and gets another genuine laugh out of him.

“Don’t worry; we can keep working on that for your next visit.”

The mention of a next visit seems to bring some of the tension back and Jere hates it. He knows he’s partially to blame – he’s never taken Bojan’s love and affection for granted but he knows Bojan has always gone above and beyond to meet him, despite having a pretty busy chedule himself. When Jere had told him he’d finally found the time to go to Slovenia, on a short five day trip, he had seen Bojan light up, with an expression of pure joy and happiness on his face, making Jere wonder how he couldn’t have found the time before. He’s feeling just a little bit guilty now because… he knows Bojan is probably wondering how long it’ll take until the next visit (of if there’ll even be a next one after all).

“By next visit, I speak flu- flue- really good Slovenian.” He jokes, trying to keep the mood light. “Better than Bojan speaking Finnish!”

“We’ll see about that.” Bojan teases back. “How long do you need to finish packing?”

“Fifteen minutes and then we can leave.”

They head out of Bojan apartment twenty minutes later, Jere’s bag already in the backseat. They’re taking advantage of all the minutes they can get until it’s time for Jere to board and Jere wants nothing more but to make sure Bojan enjoys every single moment they have together. As they drive, he wants nothing more than hold Bojan’s hand; hold him close and reassure him it’ll be okay – and as Bojan seems to get lost in his thoughts again, as they park the car, and prepare to head out, Jere can’t stop himself anymore.

“Bojan,” he calls, so softly and lovingly it even surprises himself. He’s glad there’s no one around the parking lot (he’s very aware that, just like him, Bojan isn’t really afforded much privacy in his home country and they have to be careful). “I want to enjoy time with you. Please stop thinking about sad things.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t make my brain shut up.” And he offers him an apologetic smile. “I don’t want to ruin our last few hours together.”

Jere hesitates for just a second, taking a quick glance outside. There still seems to be no one around, so he guesses he can take a little bit of a risk. “Can I try?” Bojan raises an eyebrow, questioning, and Jere is quick to clarify. “To make your brain shut up?”

“I’m not sure how, but do your best.”

Jere holds Bojan’s face gently between his hands and he sees his eyes soften at the touch. He hasn’t done this in the last five days – he hasn’t done it in way too long, because he’d been too afraid – but Bojan’s reaction tells him it’s the right choice. He closes the distance between them, feeling how soft Bojan’s lips are against his, a hint of smoke and coffee. It’s brief and sweet, but when he pulls away, he sees just how much happier Bojan looks.

“I did good job distracting you?” He asks. “Or do I need to give you another one?”

“Maybe one more, just to be sure.”

And Jere is more than happy to do so.

#bojan cvjetićanin #käärijä #bojere #joker out #my fic #kissing requests

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mechalily · 5 months

Text

fir branches, tied with red cord.

hello everyone! this writing is a secret santa present for precious @lovely-rubeum, who's works are a must-read for Thoma fans.

(🍂) tags: fluff (flashbacks), angst (currently), small age gap (2 years), fem!reader.

(⭐) spoiler tags: abandoment.

„ ♪ Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but you gave it away the very next day..“ New Year songs could've been heard everywhere. Layers of snowy crystals covered roofs and columns, fences and street lamps, making the light fuzzy. It's been six months since you left your homeland and went to university in another city. Yes, unlike your quiet little town with no kind of gaities and very few inhabitants who all knew each other, the city had much more to offer: wild parties every night, tons of cafes and restaurants, huge 20-floor shopping centers and different varieties of professional paths to follow. But your heart belonged to the calm peace of the town, soft sunbeams in the mornings, endless pinkish sky with plum-colored fluffy clouds — such dear memories were engraved in your soul. And, of course, your constant source of warmth whenever loneliness of an outsider hit you too hard was your childhood friendship with Thoma.

Thoma, who's hair reminded you of straws, who's green eyes shined brightly, who's genuine smile painted your cheeks with a prominent blush. Although you never communicated since he moved, reminiscence of your innocent tender bonds was still precious to you.

"Does he even remember me?" you wondered at times, looking up at the sky, gazing upon stars, so close yet so far, just like Thoma himself.

You were 7, he was 9. He was a "big boy" with responsibilities much bigger than yours. His family wasn't very financially stable: the father went missing two years ago, the mother worked two jobs so she appeared at home just to sleep and to cook something for her son, who also worked hard everyday, mowing lawns and walking dogs in order to get some money.

Your family was totally opposite. Huge inheritance allowed your parents to live as they pleased, going on trips every year and spoiling their beloved daughter — you — with tons of clothes, toys and sweets. At times, when you acted capriciously, your mom scoldingly reminded you of poor Thoma.

"Honey, you shouldn't take everything for granted. You are living a very comfortable life, unlike some people who weren't born that lucky. Think of the neighbor’s boy! Only two years older yet already working. Behave and take an example"

You sobbed yet didn't start crying in rage like you always did. After all, mom was right. Sometimes, on snowy winter evenings, you could see Thoma from your balcony. He cleared snow with a shovel twice his size. You never saw him playing with other kids or doing silly things natural for his age. Actually, he didn't have friends at all due to being constantly busy.

Christmas arrived, and your parents showered you with gifts on this occasion. Wearing new boots, cute hat and a coat, you went out into the yard to build a snowman. You saw a glimpse similar to a dark spot on a pure white snow. It turned out to be Thoma, dressed in some rags — the boy carried heavy packages, which was visibly difficult for him.

"Lemme help ya," you volunteered out of nowhere, grabbing a package's strap.

"You sure? It's heavy..." he hesitantly mumbled.

"I'm billion percent sure. Let's be friends!" you blurted out, steam curling out of your mouth.

Thoma froze in place. It was the first time ever anyone suggested to befriend him. You two were breathing heavily, dragging bundle along the street in quietness. You started feeling worried due to him keeping silent, but suddenly cheery voice interrupted the hush:

"Sure, let's be friends! What's your name?" Thoma smiled widely, exposing teeth.

You introduced yourself, and that was the day your life has entirely changed.

You were 11, he was 13. Even after enrolling into middle school and making friends with his peers Thoma still valued you the most. He picked you up after classes, treated to home-made meals, played games with you and helped when it came to studying. School wasn't easy for him. Working part-time and taking care of his mother in a hangover took all of his free time. Thoma expected you to dump him: after all, he was unable to go to cafes and amusement parks, buy you gifts and share candies. He couldn't endure your saddened face and pouty cheeks without heart ache whenever he told you he wouldn't have time to go play with you.

But what Thoma did not expect was you acting on the contrary.

"Oh, you are such a good boy!" your mother giggled, patting his head. You invited him to a sleepover in your house every week, and he finally gained an opportunity to shower in warm water, eat a proper dinner and not some semi-finished products thrown in one plate, sleep for full 8 hours..Your parents were incredibly kind and caring, considerate yet never intrusive. Here, in your place, Thoma felt loved, loved unconditionally. You two enjoyed your cocoa with marshmallow, cooked slightly crooked gingerbread and decorated the Christmas Tree all together.

“Who do you think you will be in the future, Thoma?” you asked one evening, when two of you were busy with baking a pie.

“Uh, wait, wait a second! One last thing… Here,” he spread out dough strips, “closing” the pie. “Who will I be in the future, you said? Ha-ha, to be honest.. I don’t really know. I hope I’ll work with kids or manage domestic stuff, cuz I enjoy doing it,” he chuckled, fixing his apron. “Hey, you are all in flour! Give me a second, I’ll wipe it off,” the boy reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and swiped the flour away. His touch sent shivers down your spine, as if you got hit with electricity.

“And who do you think you’ll be?” Thoma questioned.

“Hm… I want to become a teacher one day. Or a doctor,” «or your significant other», you added mentally.

“You are so hard-working, I’m sure you’ll succeed!” he smiled encouragely and patted you on the shoulder.

You were 14, he was 16. From shy and ordinary guy Thoma became popular, quick-witted and got admired for his nice sunny personality. You, on the other hand, had grown up reserved and quiet. That, whatsoever, didn’t break your friendship.

“Hey, pumpkin, forgetting your lunch box becomes a habit!”

Of course you recognized this upbeat voice. Who else would’ve called you a pumpkin?

When you turned your gaze up to your desk, there was a cute box in sight and widely smiling blond.

“Aww, come on, Thoma, you didn’t have to!” you sighed dramatically, although internally you were screaming, feeling flattered from such solicitude.

“I have to, because I care about your health, silly,” he gently ruffled your hair, avoiding ruining your hairstyle. “Let’s have a meal before lunch break ends, okay? I’ll stay here with you, no worries, we won’t go to the cafeteria,” he added immediately after noticing barely evident hints of your anxiety.

“...thanks, Thoma. Let’s see what you’ve prepared for me,” with that, you opened the box.. and your heart started pulsing like you have run a marathon.

Absolutely adorable salad with different vegetables, cut in some cute shapes. The dedication and efforts, invested in this dish, were obvious. You nearly teared up. No one has ever did something like that for you.

“H-hey, is everything alright? You’ve turned pale…” Thoma asked in concerned tone.

“No, no, not at all! It’s just so sweet of you.. Thank you so much. I can’t make myself eat such masterpiece..”

“Hold on, kid! You need to eat, otherwise I might spoon feed you,” once in a while Thoma acted mischievously, and you couldn’t predict this behavior. He was never mean, of course, but teasing certainly had a place in moments like this.

“And how about feeding me from mouth to mouth, huh?” you teased him back with a sly grin.

Thoma reddened: the color of his face was similar to the color of his jacket.

“Ah-ha-ha… You are quite naughty, aren’t you?” you could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“And what if so?” you cheekily raised your eyebrow.

“I assume a kiss will be able to erase this smirk from your face,” the boy tried to get his composure back, but failed miserably, stumbling his words and awkwardly fidgeting.

“Try it, so we could discuss the truthfulness of your statement”

“Um… maybe next time, ha-ha…”

To Thoma’s luck, the bell rang, so he ran out of the classroom, leaving you alone and flustered.

“Don’t forget to eat, pumpkin!”

Since that day you two have never brought up this accident, even though having lunch with Thoma became a daily routine.

You were 16, he was 18. He was embracing you tightly, despite the uncomfortable proximity under the boiling sun.

“I’ll miss you, pumpkin,” he mumbled, and you could tell he was being honest — every wrinkle, every muscle of his face depicted the dreary sorrow of parting. Even though his 12 years old Nokia phone still worked, you heavily doubted it would function properly. Yet you still hoped for the best.

“Thoma, dear.. Please, call or text me as soon as possible. It’s dull without you,” tears flowed on their own, and you couldn’t help it.

Suddenly you sensed some soft sensation against your skin. There was no need to look up to understand what was it. You closed your eyes and indulged in bubbly pleasure.

Thoma was your first best friend.

Thoma was your first Valentine, though you both considered it to be a friendly one.

Thoma was the first person apart of your family to cook for you.

Everything important in your life was about him.

And now, he granted you your first kiss.

“I love you,” his green eyes watered just like yours. “When I graduate, I’ll come back for you. Do you agree?”, you grabbed his calloused hands and squeezed them.

“Yes. Yes, of course”

Two years have passed since then. There were no news from Thoma nor texts or calls. He simply disappeared from the world. Both of his parents rested in peace, and they didn’t have any relatives, so wondering about his fate was all you’ve got to do. Your messages never got delivered.

“Sorry, the number you dialed does not exist,” you heard this voice line so many times it annoyed you to no end. You cried out of frustration, you felt numbness and anger, and finally, you accepted the entire situation.

Maybe he dumped you.

Maybe something happened to him.

You won’t know until his studying finishes.

Graduating from high school, passing exams, enrolling into university — you went through everything all by yourself with support from your parents.

Sipping coffee and sinking in your unhappy thoughts, you didn’t pay attention to any of the cafe visitors — after all, it was way too far from yor home, there was no chance to meet your countryman.

With the bell tickle, which announced the emergence of new client, loud fast speech could have been heard:

“Yoimiya, I’m so sorry! I left my place on time, it’s just that traffic accident with a mongrel dog occured, I had to take poor animal to the vet-”

This voice.

You stared upon the guest in disbelief.

Blond hair. Red coat. Black bandana which looked like horns. Pitiful smile. Green eyes.

“Oh, dear God, Thoma! Is everything okay? Is the doggie alright?! Ugh, how could this be?..” fair-headed young lady came out of the stall and jumped forward the man.

“Wait,” he shook his head as if he was trying to get rid of weird delusions. But that was not a delusion.

“Is this…” his voice lowered to husky whisper, eyes widened in shock.

“...Thoma?” you stood up on shaking legs.

#thoma x reader #genshin headcanons #hurt/comfort #genshin x reader #gixrsecretsanta2023

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lucy90712 · 11 months

Note

joao fluff of him not being able to take away his gaze of reader when they first meet

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: google translated Spanish

Getting your dream job is exciting and also nerve wracking at the same time and that's exactly how I'm feeling this morning before my first day. A few weeks ago I interviewed for a job as part of the Chelsea media team not really expecting to get the job as I don't have much experience but to my surprise they actually offered me the job and now it's my first day. I have been a fan of the club for as long as I can remember and I've been going to matches since before I could pay attention for the full 90 minutes so to actually be working for the club feels so amazing. As much as I love the club the thought of actually meeting all of the players and actually interacting with them is almost making me nauseous as what if they hate me as then watching games would never be the same. Luckily for me they told me my first day was just going to involve a lot of meetings and sort of introductory work so I don't have to meet the players just yet.

Arriving at the stadium felt so surreal especially when I went in the door for all the staff and not just the regular way to the stands. Somehow the place seemed so much bigger when I went behind the scenes than it ever has when I came to watch a game. I had a meeting first thing this morning so I made sure to go in a little early as I knew I would get a bit lost and I did but one of the other staff members kindly told me where to go and I made it on time. There was a lot of people in this meeting that I hadn't met which meant that before we could start everyone had to introduce themselves which was as awkward as I was expecting it to be but it got it over with.

"Y/n can you stay behind for one minute please" my boss said as the meeting ended

"Is everything alright?" I asked

"Yes everything is fine it's just something has come up and now the person who was supposed to be doing filming with the players today won't be there and as you are part of the media team I need you to head to the training ground to take over" he explained

"Oh um ok" I replied not really knowing what to say

"All of the players already know when they are filming and the cameras are already set up all you need to do is be there and oversee everything I have the document with what the video is supposed to be about which I will email to you right now" he said

"Thank you I will head over there right now" I said

"Oh and y/n don't worry all of the players are lovely if you just tell them it's your first day they will be understanding" he said

With that I headed back out to my car and drove to the training ground which luckily isn't far away so it only took me a few minutes. Those few minutes were more than enough to make me incredibly nervous. I hadn't mentally prepared myself for meeting the players today as I thought my first day was just going to be in the office which means I don't know what I'm supposed to say to them. Do I introduce myself or while they not care? Will they even notice that I'm new I mean they are so busy with other things surely they don't pay attention to each person who makes them do media. There's no time to worry about all of that now though as I need to get my job done as I don't want to make a bad impression on my first day.

When I made my way in all of the cameras were there but they weren't actually set up so I dropped my stuff in the corner of the room and began setting up the cameras and the microphones as those weren't ready to go either. As I was setting up I heard people enter the room but I didn't pay any attention as I just wanted to get the cameras ready so that the videos didn't turn out awful. When I finally looked back up I almost fainted as the 3 players I was filming with had already arrived. I didn't even want to know how long they had been watching me press buttons and completely ignore them so I put that out my mind and just decided to try and start over by introducing myself.

"Hey guys I'm y/n it's my first day today so I'm going to apologise in advance for anything that goes wrong" I said

"Welcome to the team" Broja said

"Don't worry about things going wrong the longer this takes the more training we miss" Madueke laughed

With them was Joao Felix who's on loan from Atletico Madrid but he was stood completely still and didn't say anything. As he stood there looking slightly bewildered I wondered if he understood what I said so I tried to remember the bit of Spanish I know as I thought he would understand that better than English.

"Si necesita que le traduzca algo hágamelo saber y haré todo lo posible" I said as clearly as I could (If you need me to translate anything for you let me know and I'll try my best)

"gracias pero debería estar bien" Joao replied (thanks but I should be ok)

After I explained what we were doing I got all the cameras recording and we all sat down. It took a minute for everyone to get comfortable including me as it's my first time doing this but when we did it was actually really fun. The guys did most of the work joking about with each other and being competitive even though it's only a silly game. Throughout filming I noticed that Joao kept staring at me in fact he barely took his eyes off me which had me feeling a bit flustered but I did my best to hide it at least from the camera. Once we finished filming I went to turn the cameras off and grab the sd cards which meant I was completely in my own world as I heard murmuring in the background.

Joao's POV

Out of everyone they could get for us to do media with the had to go and find the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and of course I had to make a fool out of myself in front of her. When she introduced herself all I could do was stare as my brain couldn't process how beautiful she was and what she was saying at the same time. Instead of being a normal person and just saying hi no words came out of my mouth so she started speaking in Spanish instead which made things 10 times more awkward as I know English and understood everything she said the first time. Hearing her trying to speak Spanish just to help me only made her more attractive to me as it means she's kind as well as beautiful. To make things less awkward I replied in Spanish and then we just got on with filming.

Usually doing this sort of thing isn't my favourite thing about the job but today I actually wanted to spend as much time filming as possible. You could tell that y/n was a little nervous as it took her a few tries to do the intro properly but she quickly became more confident and we got into our stride with the video. The entire time we were filming I couldn't help but stare at her as she's just so mesmerising when she speaks and when she laughs she just looks so cute especially when her nose scrunches up slightly. Having her doing the video made it so much more fun and I was more relaxed than I usually am as I wanted to show her more of my personality instead of being awkward and quiet.

When we finished with the video she got up and started doing whatever she has to do but the second she turned away I felt an elbow in my side and laughter from both the guys. When I looked at them they started making fun of me by doing hearts with their hands and wiggling their eyebrows in suggestive ways. I knew it was coming as I was never going to get away with what happened earlier without them making fun of me for it but I was hoping they would at least wait until she wasn't in the room and could see what they were doing.

"So what do you think of the new girl?" Noni asked clearly teasing me

"She's alright" I replied trying not to give in

"Oh come on man you literally couldn't speak to her and I don't think you took your eyes off her for two seconds" Armando said

"I mean yeah she's beautiful but please be quiet she's right there" I whisper yelled back at them

"Aww does Joao not want to be embarrassed in front of the girl he likes" Noni laughed

By this point there was not stopping them they were just going to keep going so I walked away from them to go and talk to y/n to try and get some of my pride back.

Your POV

As I was trying to pack stuff away I felt a slight tap on my shoulder which made me jump a bit so I turned around only to see Joao. He smiled at me and offered to help me which I appreciated but there wasn't much he could do a I was just downloading the footage so I can begin editing it as that's one of my main jobs. Seeing as Joao was kind enough to check on me I showed him a bit of the editing process and he was amazed at how much work it takes just for one video. Together we watched some of the footage to know if it needed cutting out or if it should be kept but instead of paying attention we were just laughing at some of the outtakes which weren't necessarily that funny but once we started laughing we couldn't stop.

After some time I realised the other boys had left and it was just me and Joao which I quite enjoyed as I'd like to spend more time with Joao. Thinking about Joao honestly has me torn as there's no denying that he's an attractive guy and I think we get on well but at the same time I just got this job and he's new to the team so being anything more than friends probably isn't the best idea. That being said right now I just want to get to know Joao to see if in the future my mindset changes. Although I was supposed to be working more of my time was spent talking with Joao as he was asking me questions about my life and getting to know more about me outside of my job. In my experience the people I work with usually don't care about who I am as they are just there to do their part of the job and then go home so it was really nice that Joao seemed to care about who I am as a person.

We spent hours sat together talking as I edited which I probably should've done back in my office but I was enjoying myself and plus my boss wouldn't mind as long as I get the work done. It was only when I got a text and looked at my phone that I noticed the time and it was almost the end of my hours so I saved the video and started shutting down my laptop. As I was gathering my things Joao was kind enough to go and grab my bag so I could put them away. I almost didn't want to leave but at some point I have to go home as I have my own life to live plus I have to come back to work tomorrow morning.

"Have we really been here that long" Joao questioned as he looked at his phone

"Apparently so" I said

"Thank you for making my first day so fun" I said

"There's no need to thank me I'm glad I could make your day so enjoyable I remember my first day with the club was so fun so I'm happy to do that for someone else" Joao said

"Well you succeeded I've never had this much fun at a job" I said

"Before you go I have to ask if you would like to go out for drinks with me later" he said

"I would love to" I replied without giving myself time to think

"Great can I have your number so I can text you later?" He asked

I gave him my phone to put his number and then we parted ways to get into our cars. I didn't leave right away as I was trying to process everything that just happened. While thinking I caught myself smiling which means any reservations I held earlier I think have gone out the window because as much as this is my dream job Joao might be my ideal boyfriend and to me that's more important than a job.

#joao felix #joao felix imagines #joao felix imagine

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