#this one was in my drafts for quite a while

[ludicdoll]

hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic

synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.

a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭

there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.

your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.

you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.

you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.

he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.

“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.

“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.

“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.

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you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.

you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.

“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.

“hmm?”

“no one’s talking to me anymore.”

“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”

“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”

you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.

you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.

“please?”

you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.

you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.

you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.

“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.

© please do not publish my work on other sites.

#archie madekwe #archie madekwe x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh #saltburn #saltburn x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #farleigh x reader

[magnusbae]

Hi! What about "Can you stay with me?" (and if you'd like it my bonus prompt is "drunk") 💗

The initial draft was written while I was quite literally fainting late at night & the second one fully rewritten while I am dazed and out of it. I would say that I was method writing Obi-Wan who is indeed very much drunk in this one, dearest anon. Thank you for the prompt~ 😊💖

+++

Obikin || 4,004w || Drunk Obi-Wan is agonized by the prospect of his freshly knighted Padawan leaving him behind— and more. 😌 Some flavors of gentle lime in this drink, very light, very sweet. 🍋💖

▾▾▾

"Can you stay with me?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi sounds properly pathetic and he knows it. Grasping at Anakin’s Tabards as he is, mind swirling in hazy circles around the notion he was doing his very best to avoid thinking about for the past few months. It is not long now that Anakin would look at his Master and see him for what he really was. Perhaps even today. Inebriated as he is, he makes for a good serving of disillusionment. All Anakin needs to do is look, and see, and then…

It seems inevitable—his Padawan will leave.

Former Padawan. Anakin is no longer his Padawan, and that is the heart of it, isn’t it? The severed braid was the firs step. Them having each a battalion of their own, stationed light years away from each other with only the occasional joint mission, a second. The third and final step would be for Anakin to finally open his eyes and look, and see.

It won’t be hard to unveil the carefully crafted Jedi Master facade Obi-Wan had cultivated for the past decade. No, it won’t be hard at all. If Anakin were to stop glorifying him, stop shaping him to be what ever form of idol he had needed for while growing up, if only he were to take an unbiased look at him…

There will no longer be, Kenobi and Skywalker.

For the naked truth was, Anakin had outgrown him, had become more powerful and capable than his Master. There’s little left that Obi-Wan could still offer, still teach. He should be proud. The only one still refusing to see it, is Anakin himself. Once that revelation comes to pass however, it will be complete. A true break, as befitting the Jedi way. Obi-Wan finds no peace in the thought, no completion nor satisfaction in the successful completion of his Padawan’s training—a symbol of his own Mastery.

Not when it means losing him. Not then.

Given his state of drunkenness, words slurred and feet unsteady, he thinks that it’s worth putting to question whatever or not he was a good Jedi at all, least of all a Master. Try as he might, he finds it hard to ponder further. His choice to look inward is as always an avoidance, an escape. An easy detour from looking outward, from looking at Anakin. Anakin who’s eyes he can feel like a physical touch, boring into his very soul.

Obi-Wan’s avoidance is nearly as strong as Anakin’s natural magnetism. One is counseling him to avoid looking, save himself the pain of witnessing the exact moment in which the realization dawns upon the boy. The second, stronger still, demands his undivided attention on him, demands him to look. Demands him. 

Obi-Wan looks up, he meets those eyes, his demise.

Anakin’s eyes widen and he blinks, endless blue clearing as if coming out of some sort of shock.

“Can I—” Anakin splutters “—Obi-Wan, even if the council explicitly ordered me to go save the entire karkin universe just now, I wouldn’t be leaving your side— stars you’ve any idea what you look like right now?

Obi-Wan’s tongue is heavy but he parts his lips to answer, something clever to be sure, he always finds something to say.

“No, never mind.” Anakin cuts in before he could speak. There’s such decisiveness in his tone, such confidence. His former Padawan stands tall, his arms are strong and sure as he handles Obi-Wan closer, making him lean more of his weight against his chest. It’s broad and firm. Obi-Wan should not be noticing those things, should not be aware of those things. It is a further evidence that his Padawan is well and truly grown. Further evidence of his own failing as a Jedi, as a Master, as a…man. Obi-Wan should not be inhaling and smelling home. Should not be leaning closer, itching all over for more, more.

“You’re so wasted that I am surprised you’ve even recognized me at all.” Anakin continues talking, as if the universe is not shifting beneath Obi-Wan’s feet as it is him who finally looks with his gaze unbiased. “The drunken messages though, those you will be seeing tomorrow” there’s dark mirth in that dear voice. “I bet you wanted to send them to— someone else.” Anakin glances at him, eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan’s offenses at Anakin’s assumption he could ever not recognize him dies over under his gaze, dark and rich, his eyes are captivating. Before Anakin, he did not know that a blue can hold such multitudes. Both the clear morning sky, and the moon lit sky. Beautiful. They loosens his tongue as well as any truth serum would. That or the bottle he had finished on his own finally soaked through.

“I will always—”  His voice comes out so thick that he coughs, starting Anakin from his dark contemplations, whichever those might be. His eyebrows furrow and he quickly snatches a cup of something clear off of a passing robo-waitress’s tray. Irritated with the distraction, Obi-Wan accepts it and drinks if only to make way for the words to follow. He will not let it go. Not now that he’d started. “I will always recognize you, Padawan Mine, drugged, beaten, or otherwise preoccupied— I will always—” “Drugged?!” Anakin cuts in again, arms tightening around Obi-Wan and strangling the annoyed huff at being cut again “You did not mention anything about being drugged, what the kark’ Obi-Wan?!”

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, similar to how being drugged would feel. His mind swims and all he sees is Anakin. There’s warmth in his chest, there’s a burn in his gut, there’s a tug in his— 

“It’s hard to tell” he says sheepishly, embarrassed, eyes straying away from Anakin’s strong jaw and up, up to the lights on the ceiling. He should not be thinking of how Anakin’s proximity is enough to replicate a strong drug. How out of orbit he feels around him as of late. “They all start the same, so…” 

Anakin is hardly listening. Instead he is surveying the club with a look of fury that is bordering on homicidal, freeing one hand to rest it on his lightsaber. There’s the distinct feeling of Anakin stretching his force signature out, covering the room, no doubt attempting to locate anyone within their proximity who might have dared drug his former Master. Oh if only he knew that he was the culprit all along. 

Obi-Wan snorts, finding an odd sense of humor in it.

Anakin’s gaze darts back to him, sharp and accusing. He looks so handsome under the colorful, dim lights. He looks so… 

“Ah-nakin.” Obi-Wan sighs out and shuts his eyes lest his spinning head forces him to sober up in the most un-jedi manner.  

“Stay with me,” the request comes so easy, what was it that he was so afraid of? It’s so easy, too easy. Frighteningly so, to reach and touch Anakin’s forearm. There’s skin beneath his touch, warm and human, tense muscles beneath. “Ah” Obi-Wan sighs out in realization. Anakin had rolled the sleeves, so very unofficial for a Jedi and yet so very Anakin of him.

Master Windu would have hated it. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if this was exact reason why Anakin did it to begin with, after all, he was most adept to handling heat and was not bothered by it even while all else were. Obi-Wan really should have reprimanded the boy more often, should have stopped Anakin from executing all those harmless little vendettas of his while growing up.

If only he did not find them to be so endearing, so amusing. If only he was a better Master, a proper Master. He would have. 

His brain is foggy and he had already forgotten what was it it that he had hoped to achieve by touching Anakin, only that his fingers are circling his wrist and touching the spot at which he can feel his life pulsing. What a terrible habit it is, being intoxicated while negotiating. You should only ever drink enough to appear drunk, never more. How is he to get what he wants, when he has no ideas what it was? 

Obi-Wan’s eyelids are heavy when he tries to blink them open and focus on Anakin. There’s the signature frown, so familiar Obi-Wan can’t help but smile. Anakin is chewing his lips, a compulsion he had never managed to rid himself of. He looks torn between the need to locate and deal with the ‘enemy’, and…. Obi-Wan. 

The way Anakin looks, that should not be reminiscent of the targets Obi-Wan opts for charm as the main form of negotiation with. Should not stir the excitement of a hunt, of a game to be won. Obi-Wan should not use his looks to achieve his goals, he should not use them to get what he wants, he should be a better man than that.

Obi-wan is not a better man. 

Licking his own dry lips, he let’s go off of Anakin’s wrist and reaches for Anakin’s cheeks. There’s a tremble in the touch, his, Anakin’s? He is not certain. 

“Dear One, you can chase your enemies tomorrow.” He speaks in a hushed murmur, he hopes he sounds soft and alluring “Tonight, will you guard this drunk Master of yours?” he looks up, through his lashes, breathing shallowly, feeling hot, hot, hot all over. 

Anakin let’s go off of the lightsaber. It’s an answer enough to what he had picked. It still is deeply gratifying to feel the boy’s hand cover his own, guide it until he wraps his arm around Anakin’s shoulders. It’s an awkward angle, with Anakin being taller than he— he cares very little for it when Anakin wraps an arm around his waist. 

“Let’s go.” He is tight lipped and determined, guiding Obi-Wan out and into a speeder that is parked not far off. If Obi-Wan was even slightly more aware, he’d realize just how much attention the pair of them had draw, how all of the eyes had followed them out. Sometimes he forgets, how famous they had become during this accursed war. Sometimes, he is glad to not remember. 

Anakin is terribly efficient at getting them to the Temple. One blink of an eye they’re flying through the busy highways of Coruscant, the next he is tossed unceremoniously onto a bed that feels and smells familiar. His bed.

They’re in his quarters. Their quarters until very recently. He is breathing harder and he does not dare to think of why. If he does not think, it does not exist. He is self aware enough only to feel how disheveled his robes feel on his body, how messy his hair is, how hot his skin feels all over. He is a mess. 

“Dear one?” he questions. He refuses to acknowledge how his own tone drops, refuses to admit he is rolling his vowels in a way he knows thickens his accent in the most attractive of ways. He doesn’t know why he is flirting with Anakin Skywalker when the boy is barely out of his knighthood and is Anakin. His Anakin, his Anakin on whom he just looked in a way he really should not be looking at, through his eyelashes, with a heavy, wanting gaze. 

The redness of Anakin’s cheeks is evidence enough that he hears and understands the situation well enough. That he is very much aware of what his Master is doing. That he is… perhaps affected. 

Obi-Wan swallows, trying to push himself up to his elbows. He needs to sober up, he must tell him that he is merely jesting, that it is all a little tease, a little laugh, nothing more, just….

Anakin cuts him to it. Before he can excuse, or joke, or explain.

“Not while you’re drunk.” Anakin bites, sounding frustrated, lips swollen red from biting. Obi-Wan startles, surprised. 

What did Anakin just say? Imply?

Blatantly threw straight into his face, more like. 

Yes, but not while he is drunk.

Absurdly, a swell of pride fills his chest to the brim. Anakin’s manners and chivalry surprises him, pleases him. He had raised him well after all, he did not fail him, at least not in this.

His pleasure must bleed into the Force as Anakin regards him with a dark, baffled look. It’s so dark, most would find it intimidating, but for Obi-Wan it’s… dear. He can see the gentleness in that look, the care. There’s warmth in the force when Anakin insist on tucking him in, fingers methodical in the short, careful gestures. Tucking him in as if he was a child. Him, his Master. Former. 

Obi-Wan was tucked in only once in his lifetime, at least as far as he can remember. His first night in the Jedi Temple. So tense he was, so out of his depth, that the he was taken pity of, tucked in with a quiet promise of everything making sense soon. It helped.

It had never happen again. 

“Ahnakin.” he tries to protest, tries to pull a face of offended indigence. It’s hard to do when he is practically shining within the force. A single look from his apprentice is enough to quiet him down. 

“Master.” Anakin replies, and there’s a little eyeroll there. His cheeks are still flushed but he seems as determined as Obi-Wan to not address the Bantha in the room. “You really should be more careful” he lectures him in a way Obi-Wan can distinctly remember doing a few years back, when Anakin had gotten drunk for the first time. 

He leaves then, without a word. Obi-Wan’s throat closes and there’s a pang of pain in his heart. No this. He remembers now. Him. Leaving. That was the whole reason, that was why—

“Master?” Anakin sounds concerned, a glass of water and a container of what looks to be painkillers in his hands. “Are you sick?” a few strides and he is by Obi-Wan’s bed again, placing he glass and container at the bedside table. He looks well and truly worried. 

Unthinking, Obi-Wan sits up. So sudden that he does feel sick from the motion. He ignores it. He reaches for Anakin’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks with a grip that is too strong, too desperate. A Jedi should not hold onto things with such fervor. 

All it takes for him to lean is to Anakin, is to stop resisting if only for a moment. Anakin’s pull was always there, stronger and stronger until it had become a daily challenge to ignore it, to pretend he does not feel it. All it takes is to stop resisting and his lips find Anakin’s, pressing against that plush softness, inhaling his exhale and finally, finally feeling anchored, inside the orbit he was always meant to circle.

He tilts his chin, leans in, knowing his beard will scratch pleasantly against the smooth jaw, kisses in deeper—

“Mahster—!” Anakin gasps into the kiss, a pang of shock and uncertainty clouding the force around them, sipping through the open nerves of their broken bond.  He does not want to take advantage of his Master, does not want him to end up hating him, does not want him to wake up and be disgusted, appalled— but he wants, he wants so badly. 

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathes out, unsure if it’s endearment of relief that fills him up with warmth, with lightness. One thing he is certain of, no one had ever been, or will be, as sweet, as kind, as dear as Anakin is to him. “I could never hate him.” There’s a drunken lisp to his voice, he needs a moment to correct himself. “You.” He manages, meeting Anakin’s eyes and not blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. Wanting to see the exact moment in which Anakin realizes he is serious, that he is the most honest he’s been in years. 

Anakin seems to be realizing it too, his eyes widening and cheeks coloring a deeper red than before, he bites his lip.

“I might be…” Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to Anakin’s lips and he thinks about… “intoxicated…” he forces himself to look up, away from temptation, away from sin. “Drugged, possibly.” He is still not fully certain if he is, or it truly is just Anakin with a touch of alcohol. “But I am very much aware that…” he smiles before completing the sentence, it widens so much further with the words to come “…my Padawan simply cannot take advantage of his Master…” there’s really no need to be using this many terms of belonging, especially when they are outdated and irrelevant, but he just cannot… “On the contrary, I am the one who should be deeply ashamed for…mnnn-” 

Anakin’s lips quiet him up, he was never a patient listener, never could hear his Master finish a thought. This is the most effective he had ever been at cutting Obi-Wan’s line of thought, by far. He kisses him in a way Obi-Wan would have never guessed him capable of— it’s soft, sweet, patient. A tender thing, careful, loving. Obi-Wan gasps. Thinking, dazedly of how Anakin will grow to be an amazing lover, so attentive, a beast holding back his fangs in favor of gentle lips… 

The thought sets a burning coil of arousal deep in Obi-Wan’s gut.

Not good. Beyond not good. He should…. 

The thought is present and yet he licks at Anakin’s lips, asking for permission. He is granted one without resistance, without hesitance. Anakin’s lips part and he can taste him and oh, oh. Obi-Wan groans, muscles tensing as he shifts to sit straighter, moving a hand to Anakin’s nape and pulling him closer.

He nearly chokes when the boy sucks on his tongue, arousal shocking him into near soberness. 

“Anakin…” he knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the universe to convince him that this is not going too far, he knows and yet… 

He kisses Anakin again, a little hungrier, a little more wanting.

He must stop this madness. To think that he had started it, to think that he had taken advantage of his trusting, sweet—

“No, Master.” Anakin answers, and Obi-Wan wonders just how much of his shields is truly left if his thoughts can be read so easily, so plainly. “You’ve asked me to stay, and I will stay.” That assuredness is back, firm and leaving no space for argument. This is the same man who leads men on a battlefield, who commands, who leads. Obi-Wan finds it impossibly, undeniably, devastatingly attractive.

“You will sleep.” Anakin decides then, tearing his eyes away from Obi-Wan long enough to gesture at the lights, turning them off with the force. “And I will stay with you.” His eyes land back to Obi-Wan, dark mirth dancing in what Obi-Wan can still see of him. “To keep you safe, Master.” He is teasing him, the little devil.

“How will it even…” Obi-Wan doesn’t want to mention how narrow the bed really is, Anakin would know, with his constant complaints about how leg room and… 

“Don’t worry about that.” Anakin answers, confidence so cocky, so boyish that Obi-Wan huffs a surprised laughter, breaking into giggling when Anakin practically falls on top of him. They struggle like that, laughter mixing, limbs tangling, hair in a mouth and fingers against sides— Anakin captures him then, they’re on their sides, Anakin’s back is firm as he pulls Obi-Wan all the way to himself, forming….

“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan’s voice raises and breaks a little, attempting to wriggle out of the trap he inadvertently fell into. There’s still some pride life in him. He will not permit this Jedi Knight, his former Padawan no less, big spoon him, 16 years his senior and former Master. Force be his witness, he will not allow it.

Anakin makes a suffering, exasperated exhale when Obi-Wan manages to slip out of his grip— only to be yanked back by the force. All he manages is a choked gasp of protest before the air is knocked out of him, his back hitting a firm chest a little too hard. There’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction in hearing Anakin chokes out a surprised exhale too, clearly, he did not account for the impact being this strong.

“Karkin’ hell…” he hears the boy muttering and snorts out, laughing even while Anakin wraps his mechno-arm around him, pulling him back into the not-as-offensive as before little spoon position. Fine, he thinks. He’ll allow it, just for this one night…. 

His eyes close and he shudders when Anakin’s nose press against his nape, he can feel the slow, deep inhale— can feel the content exhale that follows. 

“Finally.” Anakin breathes out, as if he was waiting for this moment longer than the few minutes  just now. Like he needed it, himself. Like it was not Obi-Wan, pathetic and alone, messaging his former Padawan while drunk beyond reason that led him here, but his own needs, own wants. Like he needed this too, him. Like he needs him. Obi-Wan. 

“Oh Force…” Obi-Wan calls upon it without realizing, without meaning it. Only the force can stand witness to this moment, judge it, measure it. Guide him, tell him right from wrong. “Force.” His voice trembles with it, realizing for the first time that Anakin does see him, in truth, does and still…

“It’s fine with it.” Anakin remarks, nonchalant, amusement coloring the timbre of his voice. “You don’t have to shout at her, I don’t think she like it very much” Anakin refers to the Force differently every time, Obi-Wan suspects he does it simply for the joy of throwing off the younglings.

It unsettles Obi-Wan as well, he will not admit that much, though. Anakin’s connection with the force was always stronger, always different than anyone else’s. If he’s saying that the Force is not finding this offensive…. Obi-Wan will trust him. Anakin enjoys messing around at times, stretching the truth about how the Force works, but he’d never lie about this, not to him. 

Obi-Wan’s body relaxes so completely that he practically sags into Anakin, relief, so much relief. It feels…. Good. There’s rightness to it that even without the Force humming pleasantly in his ears, he’d recognize. Like sharing a sleeping cot in the war zones, minus the blood and gore and pain… it feels secure, it feels…good…. 

He feels himself being lulled to what he suspects will be a long and restful sleep. Such a luxury as of late. “Mnh..” He jolts a little when a hand moves across his side, resting at his hip bone and then back up to his side. He should not permit Anakin this much leeway with him and yet…. He likes it… oh he likes it.

So he doesn’t comment it, allowing him to continue, to stroke him and care for him, and hold him. He is not leaving. 

Sleep comes ease, as easy as an inhale. One moment he is aware of all that surrounds him, the scent and warmth, the weight and touch. The next he is sinking into the open embrace of rest. Distantly, he feels the touch of a Force Signature he knows as well as his own. It is the only half of it, after all. Accepting it, is as easy as breathing too. 

There’s a distant shift, even in sleep he can feel the bond snapping back into place, like moons falling into a familiar route, circling a singular sun. Maybe it was not Anakin who was the sun around which Obi-wan was revolving all along, but their shared….

#I realize that the smarted thing would be to revisit this one once I slept off this fever and actually give it a proper revision however-- #the force demands I post it here and now. #obikin #obikin fic #star wars #star wars fic #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #anakin #obi wan #sw fic #buns.w #buns.all #anonynous #msg #prompt filled #me:i'll do quick drabbles for those prompts #also me: so here's a thing i nearly fainted over because i forgot what drink and food was #i hope you enjoy this~ I didn't write Obi-Wan POV in a whiiiiilllleee I wanted it to be a push and pull of conflicting emotions and needs #Fair warning as mentioned before... I rewrote it almost completely from 2k to 4k without actually editing over the rewritten one #there might be some hefty mistakes there so you know ggs

[obsessive-clown]

Yan Nanami getting a love confession from person he's stalking n it was an unexpected turn for him⁉️

HI POOKIE!! Omg this is so silly I love this idea… I’d like to apologize first over how LONG I TOOK TO GET TO WORK ON THIS AND OTHERS… But there’s no time like now and sleep deprivation :,)

╰ ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡╯

How would Yan!Nanami react to getting a confession note - (sfw)

♡ A love confession? First of all, he’s bewildered. Truly, he has no interest in anyone, not unless it’s you! His darling! His one and only! His ride or die! Well you didn’t know this yet, but he was sure in due time you would get accustomed to it…

♡ When he settles himself though, and realizes it’s from you… In your hand writing, it smells like you, folded and decorated exactly how you would have done it… So cautiously and with care, as if you were scared to mess it up but also nervous to even turn it in to his desk — He’s over the moon.

♡ However… It baffles him — First of all, you were the subject of his obsession. And it was something extremely new to him, after all, Kento was a very professional man and he certainly wasn’t the type to spill his emotions at his work place and certainly not in public. But this? Oh he’s gushing over every word you wrote, every scribble, every line that you made out of worry that it wasn’t worded right… You had wrote it several times after all, finally settling for whatever you wrote on the last piece of paper you had.

♡ Secondly came the doubt and the suspicion — Had someone put you up to this? Made you do it as some sort of sick joke? Or did you just want to play with his heart and pull at the strings as if he were some sort of puppet and you were his puppeteer? It clawed at the back of his mind and he hated it— It made him think of you far more than he was before. But when some sort of reason came to him, he just knew you couldn’t do something like that, you were perfect in his eyes.

♡ In all honestly, it takes Kento quite some time to muster up the courage to come to you regarding the confession. Sure, he was very straightforward, he could be bold, blunt and emotionless… It was just that he couldn’t keep that when it came to you, you made him feel things he couldn’t explain.

♡ When he does finally come to you about it… Note in hand… He’s asking you if you meant what you wrote and if it was truly addressed to him. He even came prepared too, a bouquet of your favorite flowers — that you never mentioned to him or in the workplace — and that damned half smile that just made him look so innocent and charming. He’s not even asking you about the confession anymore when you confirm, he’s asking to take you out that night. Anywhere you want to go— Any time. Work didn’t really matter to him as much as you did. And any chance he was given that involved being around you or spending time with you, he would take in an instant. Anything for his darling. Anything for you. You were his now after all.

╰ ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡╯

I hope you could enjoy it, and I apologize again for how LONG it took me to get to it, I’m trying to get through all my drafts while I have the time (and have the energy from sleep deprivation)… I was very happy to work on it and I hope you were happy to (finally be able to) read it and receive it. 🫶

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #oj answers #jujutsu nanami #kento x reader #yandere nanami headcanons #yandere jjk #yandere headcanons #yandere x you

[venerawrites]

Please some headcanons if itachi's s/o has illness, how will he tread her and etc

(Love you and your works❤️)

author's note: it took me a while to get to this one, because I had quite a few things waiting in my drafts, so I do apologize! Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request! <3

Suffering from his own weak health, seeing his partner unwell would impact Itachi more that he would like to admit.

He would feel weak and helpless as he watches his s/o laying in bed, their breath rigid and their body covered in sweat.

Without a doubt, he would be taking care of all their needs - he would cook for them, clean their house, wash their clothes and even help them shower. From them, he only wanted them to rest and let their immune system battle the disease.

He would strictly observe their day routine and if they are taking your medication as often as prescribed.

How well he shows his concerns, however, will greatly depend on what type of illness his s/o has exactly.

If it is something minor or treatable, he would probably show his worry quite openly.

He would ask his partner every day how are they feeling and would spend hours and hours next to their bed, reading them stories or just caressing their hair, while you sleep.

Itachi is like a mother hen during this time - I imagine he would even stop doing missions for a while, despite knowing it would cause major problems.

If his s/o has a terminal illness, however, the situation may be a bit different.

When Itachi first find out, he was in disbelief. He was finally given a grain of happiness and he was about to lose it too... just like everything else in his life.

When his partner told him, he disappeared for few days. He was still nearby, but he just needed some time to think and clear his head.

Next, he was determined to find a way to save them. He would travel to every single village where there are medics, find the best and even drag them all to his s/o's door, if they refuse to come willingly.

Itachi is not a brute, but he can be when it is about the wellbeing of the ones he loves.

He would probably leave Kisame to watch over his s/o, while he was away, despite their initial fear of his teammate. With how often he was away, however, an unlikely friendship would form between them two.

I feel no matter what they say or how fast their condition worsen, Itachi would not give up searching ways to save their life and would even become angry, when they try to convince him otherwise.

It takes a long conversation with Kisame for him to realise that his lover doesn't have long left and it is best for him to remain by their side during that time.

Before them, he would act like everything is okay - he would try to bring as much normality as he could to his s/o life, but they would still be able to hear him cry himself to sleep at night.

cc artwork: "Wheel of Time" Concept Art

#itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #itachi headcanons #itachi imagines #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons

[mycatismyfriend]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer but it's Tumblr text posts

#this one was in my drafts for quite a while #btvs #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #tumblr text posts #text posts #text post #buffy summers #Anya Jenkins #joyce summers #Xander Harris #Principal Snyder #Spike #buffysource #tvedit #slayerdaily #dailybtvs

[esmeblaise]

Instead of setting sail and leaving Luffy alone Ace and Sabo got twin tattoos for their 17th birthday (they were both very very drunk)

masterpost

#one piece #portgas d ace #sabo #monkey d. luffy #sun child au #asl brothers #esmeblaise art #luffys other arm says nika #he didnt quite get the concept of the s and a representing the twin so he just crossed out the second letter to match #this was in my drafts for a while but my powers been out for a week

[hosseinis]

me when i lie

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #thomas gibson #criminalmindsedit #tvedit #my edits #i'm clearing out my drafts again and this was a dumb one i made #quite a while ago #i think when i first watched mayhem??? #anyway it's silly and i got a line wrong #but i love it anyway #it gets hard and i'm alone

[just-slightly-chayotic]

Jeff Satur in shorts.

#jeff satur #kinnporsche cast #kinnporsche #this has been in my drafts for a good while #so i'm finally posting because ONE person asked #took me a while because i wanted to go through my jeff folder and see if i didn't miss any good ones #and my jeff folder is so big that it's basically unusable #wait i'll reblog with a couple more that didn't quite make the first cut #due to me being limited to 10 photos

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Headcanons for Eddie's social media presence in my little AU:

Riddler posts a lot on social media. He's desperate for validation.

On his main, official Riddler accounts, he posts a lot of riddles, puzzles, as well as strange posts that could only be described as intellectual thirst traps (eg: POV you're playing the smartest person in the world at chess and he tells you that your IQ is marginally above average).

He gets a lot of hate comments, and Query and Echo work very hard to remove them before he sees them. They use alternate accounts to give him compliments. He knows it's them, and pretends he doesn't.

Sometimes he cries when someone who isn't a henchman says something nice about him.

He has alternate accounts that pretend to be fanblogs. Some people do suspect that it's him.

He is very supportive of his fanartists. He commissions them to draw him a lot (under his "fan accounts")

He gets very weirded out when people ship him with his friends, but his ego compels him to keep looking. Sometimes Query and Echo have to drag him off when he starts getting too many intrusive thoughts after seeing NS FW writing/art between him and his fellow rogues (he's a sex favourable ace but he only likes seducing people who are beneath him for ego boost purposes, and he finds it very hard to unsee NS FW writing/art and it makes him feel sick if it's about his fellow rogues he knows in real life (especially ones he knows are ace and/or sex-repulsed)

He will often criticise peoples' mischaracterisations of him in their fics. He has exposed many of his alt accounts by being too accurate in his lengthy critiques that are often longer than the fics themselves

He will try and look at everything about him for even a hint of validation, leading him down a lot of rabbit-holes he regrets seeing.

If he encounters hate, he will doxx the haters.

He lets things get very parasocial. If a fan is particularly besotted he may even flirt with them

He also likes to go on gaming forums (without revealing himself). He gives very good advice and tutorials, but is very rude to people. They can't bring themselves to block him because his advice is always the best.

#had this in my drafts for quite a while might as well post #wrote 'ns fw writing/art' instead of what i was gonna write because it's one of my filtered contents so people could have it filtered #and think that this is the ns fw writing/art about riddler #(if you are someone writing it please don't self-censor please tag your shit my repulsed self is not thriving on this hellsite) #the riddler #riddler #edward nigma #edward nygma

[micamicster]

okay in the spirit of the previous post we are going to brute force me into sharing random scenes from fics that are either unfinished or never going to be finished! we are going to do this collaboratively (im fair and benevolent) but i don't want to give any information about said wips (im cruel and dictatorial) so this is going to be a blinded poll <3 vote here <3

#every draft in my wip folder has a song name for a title already thats just how i roll <3 #no im not telling fandoms or pairings or anything lol... and let me tell you it is NOT predictable #my choices are making quite honestly no sense at all but you know. sometimes u r struck by a Vision of a scene and never get anywhere with #not including original works on this but like. i think this is most everythign i have #idt noa's even read some of these... really just because she hasn't had the chance to go through my computer in a while #she reads through my notebooks and stuff but once things make it to the computer she cant find it so it escapes her attention... #anyway i promise ill post some of whichever ones win! just to try to mix things up for myself i guess! #prayer circle for this dredging of the lake of my documents folder to snap me out of my writers block <3

[lion-buddy]

I love seeing stuff about your little guys. your blorbo thoughts beloved

uwagh ty,, ill post more abt these guys here one day lol. im just very bad at sharing <3 <3

#i have drafts. theyve been drafts for quite a while.... #i always feel like i need permission to talk abt them which is so stupid this is my blog i LIVE here sdfh #but its one of their bdays soon so maybe ill use that as an excuse.... #lions little guys

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 8

“Cosmo Canyon" by Nobuo Uematsu for Final Fantasy VII

#song of the day #sliiiightly cheating as kaylithographica reminds me we haven't actually heard this in its entirety in the game quite yet #but it's one of the songs I enjoy most and I do love Red and we did make it to Cosmo Canyon today #I've been talking mostly about game progress in my tag babbles these last however many days but I have a sillier project as well #as I watch the game I've been going through my bookmarks and drafts and notes to myself and organizing things #it keeps my hands busy and it is a project I try to undertake every spring-ish so I was about due anyway #and I am very proud of myself because I have taken my 'deal with later' bookmarks from nearly 2000 down to a mere 800 #a pittance! #(a lot of them I just shuffled to different better-organized folders but still! all progress is progress) #my tumblr drafts is also well over 1000 but it's also much better organized #once I finish with it I'll dump it all into the queue and probably it'll be hmm. #spitball math says probably 800 into the queue and 200odd to otherwise deal with #that's 80 days of queue at the current pace which also seems roughly correct #the post that came out yesterday that talked about queue lengths was four months after I first saw it but it was otherwise delayed #my queue stopped while I was sick in December and again while I voyaged in January and I think for work a few times before that #so I am in accordance to my own rough yearly rhythms still mostly on top of things!

[marcvscicero]

oh btw my masters dissertation proposal is officially solidified now and i’m doing it on cicero (perhaps obviously) and the public vs private man and to what extent each one reflects his actual views on women both generally and those close to him x

#my title is gna be something along the lines of likeeee cicero’s perspective on women: publicly condemned privately treasured? #also i tried to add a comma but it kept starting a new tag so i gave up #it’s due near the end of september so i’ve got quite a while but i’ve already had to write a draft for the abstract and one of the #subsections bc i had to send it to my tutor #i

[tezzbot]

Do people like. Not Know you can take a break from a fandom? Like it's okay if you've lost interest bc of lack of content or whatever you can always come back when it comes back / you re-find your love for it theres so much out there

#tezztalks #this was in my drafts from when i was in a specific spaces tags #and ppl were like PISSED because this one guy hadnt expanded on a series for quite a while and they felt like genuinely betrayed lol #like find a hobby this isnt the only series in the world or even on youtube lmao

[croziers-compass]

Imagine complaining about a crisis that you contribute to on a regular basis with the same tone as if you're exempt from causing the problem. As if you're special and surely you're not part of the problem because you're privileged and think yourself as better.

#Just baffled and blown away by some people. It's almost incredible #This had been sitting in my drafts for quite a while but I think it is time to post it #I hate that there are people out there that actively choose to contribute to world problems and then act as if they are special or exempt #Do not complain about climate change if you're wealthy enough to fly across the globe several times a year #as if it is as normal as going to the grocery store #That's one that I hate the most #there are several others but holy cow the ignorance is incredible amongst people that are clearly privileged and it really shows especially #in western folks like in the americas

[true-blue-sonic]

actually on the topic of nightmares!!! i wonder if anyone in the cast has had nightmares related to the phantom ruby. that war lasted like six months after all!

Heh, I personally do feel that making the war last literally half a year was just far too long. It's quite a significant chunk of time for many characters... yet absolutely nobody is affected by it. Not physically, not mentally, not emotionally. And of course I understand this is a Sonic game and they're not gonna shown everyone gravely injured and with PTSD, but with six months I truly would have expected some consequences on the cast. If it had only been one or two months or so, it would have been easier for me to suspend my disbelief on this topic, I feel.

Regardless, to answer your question, it does make sense to me that characters would indeed have nightmares. Infinite killed like four or five people right in front of the Avatar, Eggman's Death Egg is filled with captured people and he is heavily implied to have murdered captives, Tails saw Sonic "die" before his eyes(?), the Resistance at the end of those six months was reduced to almost nothing... and then lost 80% of their forces in Operation Big Wave on top. And then they all nearly got scorched alive in the fake fun. It gives enough grounds for nightmares, also considering how absolutely insane Infinite's power is with the Ruby. So I would not be surprised if the cast is in some way affected by it and needs time to mentally recover from the events of the game; it's just not shown or indicated to us, basically.

#I have somewhat conflicted feelings on Forces #on the one hand I do quite like the game and gameplay and I love Infinite as a villain and I don't hate the plot at all #but on the other hand... I do feel that the execution is lacking‚ so to say #they wanted it to be very grandiose but couldn't deliver there because that is not how Sonic games really *work*‚ perchance? #in the games characters 99% of the time are not affected by what happens to them and especially not on a longer time span #but with a *six month* war it feels *impossible* to me that they are not affected by their circumstances #so then the entire world gets basically destroyed/terraformed towards Eggman's interests... and yet it will never show up again #and everyone honestly just shrugs it off like it never even happened #it's definitely a strength of Sonic characters that they *can* do that and I find it inspiring #and my disbelief luckily does not take away from my enjoyment of the game #but... yeah‚ haha. It's a situation where they could not have won anyway: the earlier plot drafts are glued together by narm galore instead #and those definitely tried to be more serious about it all #hmm... it makes me wonder how 'far you can go' to make an epic story wherein you still can expect the cast to not be affected so much #but I would say Sonic being captured for 6 months while Eggman destroys the planet and murders/captures the populace throughout is too far- #-considering the complete lack of engagement with those rather heavy/serious points and the timespan they took place in #but regardless this is a very incomprehensible ramble about my thoughts on Forces haha