#no perfection just splashes of colors and a few lines if things get too confusing

[ndostairlyrium]

Template

This was too cute, I couldn't miss the chance ;; also I like this low effort painterly style, immediacy is fun!

#my oc in symbolism #elanor cousland #kerry #ankh #ndo sta l'art tag #I gave myself like #a maximum of 5 minutes on each rectangle #the approach was similar to doodling while on the phone #no perfection just splashes of colors and a few lines if things get too confusing #...notoriously fleur de lis is a flower key to hawkes story #in kerry's case it's the only flower he can take care of #except for cauliflowers but you know what I mean lmao #flowers are too delicate for him << he prefers to grow vegetables #and berries! like tomatoes or peppers #those are his forte u-u

[leseandbsavetheworld]

character themes #3

Hey everyone! Welcome back to another character themes (I say as if I didn’t do these all in one night... holy moly, another hour has already passed?)! I’m pretty excited for this one... I love these boys (even though i forgot Alex’s full last name and im too lazy to go scroll through all my notes to find it) As I do more of these (again, it’s been one day, chill out), I think my summaries of why I designed the boards the way I did and why I chose the songs I did are getting longer... I hope they’re still interesting! Also, I didn’t plan on having more than one/two AJR songs for these two, but AJR’s music is honestly perfect for describing their personalities and when I was looking for a good ship song for them, Wow, I’m Not Crazy started playing and I nearly died. Anyway, I’ve bored you enough. Here you go!

Story: The Short Book of Mortals Universe: tSBoM universe

ship--Alex & Corry Wow, I’m Not Crazy by AJR

Okay, I have a few things to explain here. On the French--when Corry was younger, he taught himself French for various reasons, from insulting his family in a way they couldn’t understand to having more opportunities in the future. Over the years, Alex began picking it up, and eventually was pretty fluent. je t’aime translates to I love you in French, which is to be expected. Then there’s the top message, which has probably been confusing any French speakers. n'oubliez pas de charger le lave-vaisselle translates roughly to don't forget to load the dishwasher in English. This is sort of an inside joke from the story, where Corry once said je t'aime. N'oublie pas de charger le lave-vaisselle quand tu rentres à la maison--I love you. Don’t forget to load the dishwasher when you get home--at the end of a phone call to embarrass Alex, who was around some non-French speaking family friends who definitely thought he said something a little more... fruity.

character--Corry Keens Next Up Forever by AJR

I wanted to keep a yellow color palette in the background & most of the details because yellow is one of the colors used to represent suicide prevention, along with the turquoise and purple (hence the ribbon in the corner), and being a suicide prevention activist is something fairly important to Corry’s character. I chose this song because, when I was listening to it, it just sounded perfect for him, especially the lines about overthinking. I added the little “love yourself” thing as a little thing to show that Corry’s still trying to get better mentally himself, along with trying to help others.

character--Alex M. Don’t Throw Out My Legos by AJR

So for Alex’s, I originally thought about going with Way Less Sad, because... y’know... it’s about depression. Then, while I was beginning to make his board, I was listening to AJR and realized that Don’t Throw Out My Legos applies to him too, even if he does have depression and Way Less Sad has a lot of good points. I wanted to make it a bit chaotic to and gray to represent those days when it’s hard to get out of bed, but at the same time, he’s a generally upbeat kind guy. I wanted to show this by adding a few splashes of color, especially the flowers poking up through all the gray.

Alright, this has been fun, but it’s 3 in the morning and i have a busy day tomorrow. Eons magic system coming soon! Love you all, have an amazing day! <3, Bat

[lizbotw]

impatient | itadori

you can’t decide if being left alone with him is a blessing or a curse half the time.

itadori yuuji x reader

word count: 2.2k

inspired by fushiguro being all pouty when he didn’t get to help itadori and kugisaki in that one episode :(

“This is so boring.”

“Yuuji, shut up.”

Shoe soles scrapping against the gravel, you didn’t even bother looking at him, although the burning gaze you already felt prickled the hairs on the back of your neck.

“You’re bored too.” It wasn’t a question.

“We’re supposed to wait for them out here.”

There was a flash of color in your peripheral and a side glance revealed that he was tapping the heel of his red sneakers on the ground—another thirty seconds of that and you’d probably end up threatening him to a life without legs (not that it’d work—Sukuna in all his stupid glory would just regenerate them for his precious vessel; speaking of which, if Sukuna decided to start complaining right now too, you were sure you would lose your mind).

Whistling wind was the only reply to your statement and, content your ears would be spared from the monologue of complaints Yuuji had been going through for who-knows-how-long-now, you crossed your arms and tilted your head back to lean against the brick wall. The stone was dusted with a rustic red—standard, yet somehow fitting for the scene around you. The building looming in front of you was dilapidated in appearance, but you admitted the sleepy residential neighborhood it was located in had some charm to it in a weary, tired sort of way. The splash of brightly colored flowers and houses on some corners really upped the appeal you had to say.

Caught up surveying the surrounding area in admiration, you were almost able to forget about the boy perched on top of the junction where the wall dipped in its height down to a low brick fence just short enough to climb on top of. Almost.

As soon as the sigh left him from beside you, your face reacted before your mind had even fully comprehended what it meant (what it meant was that there was no chance you’d get any peace and quiet around here at this rate), your features annoyed and frowning and everything in between as had become routine at this point. “Why can’t we go in?” he whined, nudging you with his knee. His gaze was expectant and weirdly innocent as he peered up at you, as though you were explaining to a child why they had to have patience. You supposed that comparison could be accurate most times when it came to Yuuji.

“Because Gojou said so.”

“He’s not even here!” That was true. He was off on some super secret mission, although the instructions he had given the group of you were specific—or... er, not too specific that you couldn’t take some... creative liberties in their interpretation, such as stopping for ice cream on the way there as per Kugisaki’s demand request—trusting the lot of you to take care of yourselves and follow them to a T. And by that, he of course meant Fushiguro keeping everyone in line.

There was another curse to take care of, yet Gojou had decided to have you two sit this one out and simply accompany Megumi and Nobara to the site—those two were to actually head inside and deal with the threat. In hindsight, it all made sense considering you, Yuuji, and Megumi had spent more time around each other prior to Nobara’s arrival at the school, no matter how minuscule the time difference was. Hell, you and Yuuji had both spent more time fighting alongside Nobara than Megumi had (they always seemed to keep getting separated from each other in some way or another during the early missions, a laughable observation now that you thought about it). Naturally, letting those two duke it out and come to a somewhat agreeable partnership was the best course of action, and what better way to do that than force them into an abandoned building together?

But even in spite of all that clear-minded reasoning, you couldn’t lie that you weren’t more than a little peeved that you weren’t getting in on any of the action. You scoffed. Team bonding, but at what cost? At the cost of your sanity, that’s what.

You rubbed your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. You no longer wanted to see. “Yuuji, we’re supposed to keep watch,” you huffed out, exasperated. Although truth be told, the title of “guards” just seemed like some fancy namesake Gojou had given you two in order to placate you and make you feel like you were actually doing something. Needless to say, it was not working.

The low section of the wall he sat upon was one half of the area that flanked the archway of the path that led up to the building, and Yuuji, stupid and silly and cute, peeked his head just around the corner to look out of the entrance at the (empty) street and then turned back to you with a shrug. “Nothing there. Job done.” Playfully adorable as he was, you cracked a smile at that, shaking your head.

“Guess you’re right—job done,” you conceded.

He beamed and then hopped off of the ledge, pacing now. You wanted to stretch your legs too and go exploring around the area, but you were trying to be the voice of reason here, knowing that if you gave up that control you were a goner for sure. It was painfully easy to get swept up in his antics.

You barely even registered him setting off on another tangent about how he wanted to go inside too, more so focused on his hands as he switched from swinging them at his side to putting them up in a mock thinking expression for his head to rest upon as he kept walking back and forth in front of you—you were wondering if (and if so, when was the perfect moment) you could reach out and grab ahold of his hand to still the restless energy... and also partially because you just wanted to.

“They’ve been in there a long time, haven’t they?” Yuuji mused, your mind actually picking up on the question now that it was directed at you and not at some vague imaginary spot in the distance. He was right. You noted the glow of the red of the bricks making up the wall as they shone brilliantly warm under the softer evening light, the silent ticking of time among the clouds your only indication of the day passing. The sky was in between the bright shades of blue of the sunny afternoon and the orange hues that were gradually creeping in and mixing with them.

“They have,” you confirmed. You wondered if you would be here until nightfall with how long it was taking them. You crossed your arms again and drummed your fingers against them. Come on already, I have things to do.

After a staring contest with one of the many dust-covered windows of the building as though you were mentally willing the two inside to come out, your narrowed gaze swung over to Yuuji to see what he was up to and promptly widened. You hadn’t noticed that he had stopped his pacing and was looking at you now, closer than you remembering him being moments before.

“And... we’ve been alone this entire time, haven’t we?” Another step forward, casual yet making you suspicious all the same.

“...yes,” you replied, wary of the grin he had—you would’ve thought it was Sukuna if not for the crinkle of his eyes into a smile that matched the one on his lips (oh yeah, that was Yuuji alright).

His steps were so easy, carefree, as though he were sauntering up to talk to you any other time, but you knew him and you knew when he was planning something. Sure, there were times you were downright confused by just about everything he did, but then there were others where his thoughts were just plain obvious.

“And what have we been doing?” In one swift movement he had trapped you against the wall—another step and your back would hit the surface—piercing look pinning you in place. It was a sudden development but you also had the notion that you should have seen this coming from a mile away. He didn’t even need to put an arm out to prevent you from side-stepping out of the spot, his mere presence enough (although you very much wanted to wipe that sweet smile off of his face).

Your mind scrambled for words, you glancing off to the side briefly—you could not maintain eye contact with him like this. “Talking?”

His eyes lit up and you had the feeling you’d just fallen right into his trap. The hand that came up to cup your face confirmed your suspicions. “Yeah, and that’s boring, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, trying to still your breathing. “It is...”

Yuuji tilted his face forward to lean his forehead against yours, skin warm. Both of you were silent aside from the quiet hitches of breath, scrutinizing one another. When you felt his thumb press against the full part of your bottom lip in interest, you just about lost it. His voice was smooth and low when he spoke, “I was going to wait until later but...” You felt him breath in.

Later was usually when anything happened, you two not yet entirely bold or confident enough when it came to most displays of affection in public—or at least in front of the others that was. Their teasing was enough to have your face burning in shame for days, even if you had to admit it was funny at times. You barely even held hands in front of them. Then again... following Yuuji’s train of thought... you had been out here alone for so long already... maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just...—you weren’t lost to contemplation for long though as he brought you back to reality.

A mere brush of his lips against yours stopped you from replying, your eyes falling closed, heart hammering. Your hand found a weak grip on the front of his shirt as you waited expectantly for the warm flush of his mouth.

“What are you two doing?”

You jolted at the familiar voice, heart hammering for an entirely different reason now, and pulled away from Yuuji’s face, although his grip on your head didn’t let you get far, the press of his ring finger and pinky into the back of your neck dizzying. Fushiguro and Kugisaki stood a few feet away, looking a little worse for wear with minor scrapes and bruises littered on their exposed skin, but thankfully all in one piece.

Eyes darting to them, mind reeling as you realized the compromising position you had been caught in, you thought up an excuse on the spot.

“Standing guard.”

“About to kiss.”

You and Yuuji both spoke at once. You slowly looked at each other, blinking.

A second passed and then— “Why are you lying?” he asked, genuinely confused.

You slapped a hand across his chest in horror at him blatantly blowing your cover like that. “Yuuji!” You were mortified (but also... he was still so close... it was almost easy to forget that the other two were still there).

“I...” Fushiguro looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it and shook his head. “I don’t want details. Let’s just go.”

A sigh of relief left you, but then Yuuji gave a chipper, “Okay!” and when he still didn’t release his hold, you had a vague feeling in your gut that something was wrong—

He leaned forward to close the gap at last and press his lips against yours, swallowing up your breath in the process—then he pulled away like it was nothing, off to go bother Fushiguro about the details of the curse.

You stood there, dumbfounded.

A gasp. “Gross!” Kugisaki shrieked, sounding like she wanted a break from everything that had occurred in the past five hours. She was sticking her tongue out, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut. “I cannot see anything cute after dealing with that thing inside.” A nose of discontentment, “Bleh.” But then she seemed to have a moment of clarity, clapping both hands on the side of her face and giving you a look that might as well have been an overexaggerated wink paired with her shouting every cliche couple trope from the rooftops. “But also... romantic.” Please someone save you.

Fushiguro was looking a little pale himself, caught off guard by the display of affection, staring at you, but then catching himself and looking away. He looked embarrassed and he didn’t even have anything to do with it.

Carefully, robotically, you brought a finger up to brush against your lips, still warm where Yuuji’s had molded between them, and subsequently noticed the teasing look he was giving you in the distance. It was a little too smug for your liking.

You stalked up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest, staring him down. “Yuuji, I swear-”

Kugisaki shoved the two of you towards the exit before you could get into a fist fight over a single surprise kiss, tsking while Fushiguro followed behind in her wake (you wondered if he would recover from... that any time soon—poor boy). “Okay, move it along, lovebirds. I want to go take a shower.”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #i can't decide if i like using the banners or not :( #jjk #jjk imagine #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuji imagine #itadori yuji #itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji imagine #jjk itadori #itadori yuji imagines #itadori yuuji imagines #yuji itadori x reader #CAN'T FIGURE OUT if there is one u in his name or two???

[allegra-writes]

"Bright blue ripples"

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, master/sir kink

Just a little blurb cuz I can't get this scene out of my head 💦

"Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want"

Off to the Races - Lana del Rey

"Say it, baby girl" Tom cooed softly against your ear, voice calm and sweet, like he hadn't been torturing you, pushing you to the brink of insanity, blurring the line between pleasure and pain, for almost two hours now. 

As if he wasn't buried balls deep into your tight heat, fucking you raw. 

But no, the bastard wasn't even winded. He was completely under control, as always.

It was unfair.

"Say it, come on" He insisted, "Just three little words, and it'll be over. Just three little words… and master will let you come" 

You dug your fingertips on the sun warmed skin of his shoulders, his back, holding on for dear life as he kept on slamming his hips against yours, railing you into the pool wall. 

You opened your eyes in an effort to clear your mind, to focus on something other than his big cock, thrusting inside you so deep and so hard, that you were sure he was bruising your womb. The bright blue ripples, glistening under the afternoon sun, that he was creating around the both of you with every move, caught your eye. That was exactly the way he was making you feel: wave after wave of pleasure, crashing, growing, amplifying inside you, until you were swept away in the riptide. Until it was hard to breath, useless to fight. You were just too exhausted for that, the only option left was surrendering. 

"I'm sorry, sir" You sobbed, "I'm so sorry"

Tom leaned back, fingers tilting your chin up to look into your hooded eyes and you realized he was only using one arm around your waist to hold you up. It shouldn't amaze you anymore, how strong he was, but it did.

"See, I don't think you are" He tsked, slowing down his movements again, making you whine in complaint, "sorry that you're being punished, maybe. But not sorry for what you did…" 

"No, please, I'm sorry" you begged, "please, sir, let me come"

He chuckled. He loved seeing you like that, his little hellcat, his cold, proud ice queen, reduced to a docile, pleading little kitten. And he was the one to do that to you. No one else but him could tame you, could satiate the hunger within you. 

"I'm not being cruel because I want to, baby girl" Tom explained, thumb brushing away the tears you hadn't realized were falling. "I have to make sure to ingrain the lesson inside that pretty head of yours: Fire is messy, dangerous. I don't want you playing with matches anymore…"

You pouted, petulantly,

"But fire is fun!"

Your boyfriend's face fell, as you realized too late exactly what you had done.

"Did you just "but" me?"

Horrified, you opened your mouth to deny it, to defend yourself, to say anything, but a single stern look from his deep brown eyes was enough to shut you up. His grip around you tightened, as he carried you to the shallow part of the mosaic studded pool. A whine left your mouth as Tom slid out of you and placed you on your feet, the water reaching up to your waist.

"Strip" he ordered, pointing at your white bikini, askew and covering nothing at all already, but you guessed whatever plan he had, he didn't want anything in the way. 

"Lay back, I want you to float on your back" he continued, once your bathing suit was off. You obeyed once again, eyes never leaving his face as he walked around you, disturbing the waters. He seemed to consider for a moment, before grabbing hold of your hip, guiding you closer to the edge of the pool. 

"Hold on" 

Once again, you submissively did as you were told without questioning it, reaching back and grabbing onto the sand colored tile. 

Tom let your hips go, but kept his hands on you, trailing soft caresses from your collarbone, down to your breasts, tearing a moan from your lips when his blunt fingernails catched on your over sensitized nipples. 

"My pretty little girl," he hummed, approvingly, "like it when I play with your pretty tits?"

"Yes, sir"

He cupped his hand under the water, only to later bring it to your chest, watching the droplets fall from his palm to your soft mounds, to the valley between them, catching the sun, glimmering on your skin. 

"My precious girl…" Tom praised, circling you to step back between your legs. He never stopped touching you, massaging your calves, your thighs, stopping a breath away from where you needed him the most.

Your weak sigh made him chuckle,

"Want something, princess? Want me to touch you here?" His index finger finally traced your slit, gathering your wetness, different from the water surrounding you, playing with you, breaching your entrance just a falange, only to withdraw and flick your clit instead. 

"Like it when I play with your pussy too?" He didn't really expect a reply. Luckily, because you didn't think you could have formed words, as he used his index and middle finger to penetrate you at last, wasting no time in searching for that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. 

"God, look at you… you're so wet, don't even need lube for this. Juicy little cunt" 

He stroke his big, fat cock once, twice, before using the same hand to help guide himself inside you. Without removing the fingers from his other hand. 

You cried out at the feeling, the fullness. He was stretching you to your limit, tearing you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

"You can take it, can't you princess?" It wasn't hard for Tom to realize your cries and sobs were of bliss, "My perfect girl can take everything I give her… Fuck! Taking it so well"

You couldn't have replied even if you had wanted to, you were in ecstasy, weightless, floating, soring. Helpless to the tsunami of sensation as Tom started thrusting again, slow and measured, careful of not hurting you. He was close to bursting himself, but you were his priority, fingertips never stopping rubbing against your g-spot, as your screams grew higher and louder. 

"So fucking tight… my baby needs stretching"

You whimpered. His breathy voice as he talked filth to you was always your undoing.

"So tight… gonna milk me so good…"

He could see the muscles of your entire body starting to lock, "Gonna come for me, baby girl? That's it… you can let go… come for your master" 

You didn't even realize you were holding it until he gave you permission to let go, but when he did, you came immediately, hard, every cell of your body exploding into a million sparks. 

Oxygen deprivation at just the right time could do that to you. 

"Shhhh, you're safe. I got you" Tom's voice was the next thing you were aware of, as he held you close to him with both arms, all of his skin against yours sending you to overdrive as he kept on rocking inside you.

You locked your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, urging him on to go faster and harder. 

"Baby…"

"More" You demanded, "Come inside me… please sir, I want your come"

He growled against your neck, but complied, moving you up and down his shaft, using you to get himself off. 

"Want you to come for me again" He gasped. You shook your head,

"I… I can't"

"You can and you will" His voice broke no arguments as he squeezed you against him tighter, pelvis grinding against your clit. 

"Tom… please, no"

"Oh yeah" he moaned against your ear, "my baby girl has to learn her lesson" 

Your head was too muddled, too confused to decide if you wanted to get closer to the pleasure or further from the pain, but in the end it didn't matter, you were too weak to push him away, anyway. 

"Good girl… isn't it better when you stop fighting? When you just obey?"

You nodded your head minutely, all the answer you could manage, but it seemed to be enough for him. A couple thrusts later, and he was bitting down on your shoulder, releasing deep inside of you, the pulsing of his cock against your overstimulated entrails sending you into climax again.

On shaky legs, he carried you to the steps of the stair of the pool before collapsing on them, with you on his lap.

"God… that was…"

"Amazing" You finished for him, placing a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead. His replying smile was nothing short of ethereal. 

"You were incredible, babe"

"Well, you weren't half bad yourself" Your chuckle died in your throat, as you saw his lips fall. You followed his eyes to the transparent film dressing covering half your right arm, where the gasoline had splashed your jacket and caught fire a few days before, when you had gone against his orders and burnt down the Collucci's place instead of waiting for the boys. 

"I'm sorry" You said, sincerely, "I'll wait for reinforcements next time. I won't act alone again, I promise"

"I know you won't" He deadpaned, "You are off the field for a month" 

"What?? No! Tommy, that's too long!" You complained. He only smirked,

"Don't worry, princess" The mischievous glint in his eyes foretold trouble. For you. "I can keep you entertained until your punishment is over…"

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #mob!tom holland #mob tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #tom holland hot #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #arvin russell #peter parker #nathan drake #cherry

[no-droids]

Dove

Part 2 of 2 of The Locked Door Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.7K i apologize for NOTHING

Warnings: DUBCON ELEMENTS, SMUUUUUUT, religion kink, virgin kink, authority kink, degradation kink, praise kink, age gap, ohhhhh the list goes on y’all been here long enough

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time im sorry

***

Obi-Wan feels like he’s going to be sick.

Dinner in the grand hall was difficult enough, forking down mouthfuls of expensive food he’s sure was absolutely marvelous, if he could’ve tasted it.  The s’Ziscari clearly splurged on the celebrations—expensive food, expensive decor, expensive everything, down to the silk napkin he studied and fiddled with under the table as he awkwardly waited for you to finish your plate.

He felt uncomfortable, absolutely.  He’s felt uncomfortable ever since he shuffled into this blasted, Maker forsaken robe not long after he left your quarters earlier.

Not black, no.  Not like yours.  Not like what appears to be an overwhelmingly vast majority of the people he’s encountered so far this dreadful evening.

No, his robes are blue.

A strong, eye-catching royal blue, covering his body in waves of fabric—softer than anything he’s ever worn before and leaving him feeling incredibly exposed.  The far more practical robes he traded for these atrocious garments are made of a thick, scratchy wool, a testament to the Jedi’s philosophical rejection of fine or expensive materials.  And, against all logic—to somehow make matters even worse, the sash tying this uncomfortable piece of attire closed has no place to clip his saber, unlike the leather belt he usually wears.  As a consequence, he’s left simply carrying it around by his side.

Granted, for some unknown reason, his robes are still far thicker and longer and more protective than the… stars, the ultra-thin black silk wrapped around your body, but Obi-Wan is so self-conscious about his appearance that he’s not even allowing himself to look at you.  Obviously that doesn’t stop him from refusing to leave your side the entire night, and he finds himself rather grateful that only a very few number of s’Ziscari are fluent in Basic, if only to provide him with a valid excuse to socially detach.

Of the very few people he’s noticed wearing robes resembling his, they’re all far younger than him—much closer to your age than Obi-Wan’s, and stars, everything about this celebration is unbelievably unnerving to him—including, if not most of all, your response to it.  One of the reasons he knows the food was grand, apart from the immaculate plating and lavish dinnerware of course, is because you momentarily excused yourself from the seat next to him to dish yourself out a second helping.

Even now, even in the skybox seats of this distressingly packed arena, Obi-Wan struggles to keep down what little food he could eat while you stand tall next to him and seem completely unbothered by the situation—and by the Maker, it bothers him.  He isn’t used to this.  He’s used to you being the emotionally turbulent one, the one whom he has to pacify, and it twists his stomach with the way the roles have suddenly found themselves reversed.

“I think the blue looks nice, by the way,” you lean sideways to mention casually to him, and he knows.  He knows you’re just jesting, just trying to lighten the mood, but he feels the bile rising up his throat at the fact that you even commented on it aloud.  “Fitting.  Matches your saber.  Your face, though.”  The smallest hint of a smile tugs at your cheeks.  “It’s beginning to match the color of mine.”

“Thank you for that, young one; your sense of humor is positively delightful,” Obi-Wan gripes, clutching the metal hilt tightly in front of him with both hands while he gazes out at the stadium before him, bustling with black hooded figures and a rare flash of blue.  It does not escape his notice that in complete contrast, your arms are loosely meeting behind your back, your saber dangling in one hand while the other lazily holds your wrist.  Your body is… open.  Draped in garments somehow equally as opaque as they are revealing, presented to the wide panoramic view of the audience and stage with no qualms whatsoever.

“Wonder who I got it from,” you ponder with a tilt of your head, and… fair point.  “How long is this thing supposed to last anyways?”

“Stars—‘this thing’ can’t get over with soon enough,” Obi-Wan grumbles, his eyes anxiously flicking down at the empty stage in the center of the audience.  He’s struggling with butterflies and nausea like he himself is meant to have a starring role in this debauchery.  “They’ll have… acts.  Plural.”

“Heavens,” you sigh under your breath, and oh yes.  He agrees.

He’s also painfully aware that he should be using this free time to continue contemplating his decision about… matters concerning later this evening with you, but he’s already feeling massively overwhelmed as it is.  Right now, it’s all he can do to just breathe and attempt to face one trial at a time.

But then, as if the Maker is feeling just particularly malicious this evening, Obi-Wan’s stomach drops when something quiet flashes in the Force and the roar of the enormous crowd instantly falls to dead silence.  The ominous sign rockets through him and while a Jedi should not know fear, this might be the closest he’s ever felt to truly terrified.

“Ooh, dramatic,” you whisper, but regardless of your laissez-faire attitude, his heart is positively pounding as he watches the figures of robed Force sensitives slowly file out onto the stage, and everything inside him lurches at the realization that—

They’re all wearing blue.  Every single one of them is clothed in fabric that matches his current attire, the one that made him feel like a blot on the landscape the entire dinner and subsequent mass pilgrimage to the arena.  A bright splash of color in the midst of an almost inescapably giant ring of black.

You’ve stopped talking.  Truly, he has no idea if that’s a good or bad thing, not right now.  The Force sensitives join hands and create a ring in the center of the stage while every single person in the arena sits in perfect silence, and Obi-Wan feels dizzy.  He’s not getting enough air right now, but he doesn’t even want to breathe too loudly and somehow draw even more attention to himself.

Two of the blue robes break off from their fellow acolytes and meet in the middle of the circle, and to simply avoid having a heart attack, Obi-Wan very purposefully chooses to ignore—like he’s done multiple times this evening—the subtle flicker of curiosity he experiences at the significance of the color blue and what it symbolizes to the s’Ziscari.  He can’t even bear to watch the way the two of them slowly lean in and allow their lips to touch from under their hoods.

Maker, if he turned his saber on and stabbed himself with it, could he convince you it was an accident?  Probably not—no, definitely not, what a stupid thought to have—

“How does she wipe?”  He hears your voice whisper, and Obi-Wan’s facial expression immediately screws up in confusion.

He turns to you, his tone equally hushed but the bewilderment sharpening his consonants.  “How does who what—?”

Only—you’re not even looking at the scene unfolding in front of you.  Your expression is just as confused as his is, but instead of looking down, your chin is lifted and you’re staring directly across the arena at the viewing booth opposite to yours.  He still has no idea what you’re talking about though, not until he follows your line of sight and sees the way s’Zerthia has her jaw propped up in her hands on her throne, looking bored as usual, and how the length of her newly manicured fingernails curves halfway up her scalp from this angle.

“That’s dangerous,” you remark quietly.  “They’re like talons.  Gaudy little weapons she always has attached to her that she decorates, makes them seem less vicious than they actually are.  I see them.  I certainly don’t envy whoever she picks tonight to—”

You cut yourself off with a bit lip smile and turn your face away from him, and Obi-Wan is almost mystified by how casual you’re able to be about this. 

“Whomever she picks to…?”  He trails off with a sigh.  “Do I… Do I want to know?”

“Never mind,” you tell him quickly, lifting your chin once more while still clearly trying not to laugh.  You’re trying not to laugh, while… while that is happening in the center of the audience.  “It was, uh… tasteless.”

He blinks, wondering what that could possibly mean.  Everything about this is tasteless, the entire thing is just an absolute nightmare coming to life.

Though, after a moment of silence, Obi-Wan soon realizes he much prefers it when you fill the void.

“Members of the Royal Court take turns doing it for her,” he eventually replies, decidedly looking anywhere but where the man is slipping the blue robe from the woman’s body.  It takes you a second to register to what exactly he’s referring, but when you finally do, you snort.  It’s too loud.  A few heads closest to your isolated seats turn as Obi-Wan very quickly thrusts his elbow into your ribs.  “Quit being disrespectful,” he hisses under his breath.

“You just—!”  You quickly clamp your mouth shut and face forward again, trying not to smile in an appalled sort of way.  But then—“Oh,” you blurt, not loud enough for anyone else to hear in this open setting but still loud enough for him to glance around and be slightly anxious about it.  “Oh.  Wow.  I wasn’t… expecting…”

Obi-Wan’s eyes automatically flick down to the couple, only just long enough to catch a quick glimpse of stark nudity in the center of the arena before his gaze immediately bounces back up again and focuses on the incredibly interesting steel beam currently propping up the Queen’s viewing box, clearing his throat.  “I… did warn you.”

“Well, yeah, I expected them to…”  Your hushed voice trails off and you stay quiet for too long, too long to imply you’re still formulating an end to your thought.  You’re distracted by something, but then you appear to snap back to your senses and immediately clear your throat.  “I just wasn’t expecting… the, uh.  The… positioning.”

He says nothing in response.  It… it doesn’t give him great comfort, wondering how you could possibly know enough about this type of profanity to have expected a different sort of positioning.  The stark contrast between the color of his ceremonial robes and yours still remains completely unspoken, but it quietly pulls at the back of his mind nonetheless.

“What about it?”  Obi-Wan immediately hears himself prompt and oh, no, this is completely inappropriate.  Not only should he not be encouraging this kind of talk with you, but he also shouldn’t feel so… so negative, not about something so personal to you and something that’s certainly none of his business.  Regardless, he… still has this buried, unexplainable desire to know the truth about it.  Regardless of the indirect way he’s attempting to go about it, he wants to know the truth about whether or not you broke your oath, and while he recognizes it’s completely improper of him, the urge is still strong enough to manifest itself using his vocal cords.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just…  It’s…”  He doesn’t even have a visual reference for what you’re attempting to find the words to describe.  He doesn’t want to.  He just wants to know what you think about it.  “…Bold,” you finally settle on.

Bold.  It’s bold.  Perhaps Obi-Wan wouldn’t be analyzing your verbal responses so closely if he had something more interesting to look at besides the general coliseum-like structure of the large outdoor stadium, but there’s a certain horizon he just won’t let his eyes dip below right now and unfortunately for him, being so high up above the crowd, the upper hemisphere of his visual field remains relatively dull.

“Who would've thought,” he eventually sighs, blinking up at the star-splattered sky now and attempting to see if he can use the Force to break off a piece of a satellite and have it impale him in a tragic accident.  “Considering the s’Ziscari are such a conservative bunch.”

His eyes soon wander back to s’Zerthia, and—Obi-Wan startles to find her staring directly at him with a thin eyebrow dangerously quirked.  She motions two long fingers in a V shape at her eyes and then points down towards the stage, her expression expectant and waiting.

Obi-Wan’s teeth hurt at how hard he clenches them together, his jaw flexing but the thick blanket of his beard doing well to conceal it.  She’s playing with him, he realizes; he can see the hidden smile on her lips all the way from here.

Maker, maybe she’s right.  Maybe he’s—maybe he’s being ridiculous about this.  This is fine.  This is fine.  His stomach feels like it’s all his food might come up at any second, but he’ll do it, he’ll look.  He can at least just look, right?

His gaze slowly begins lowering, trying to take in just a few things at a time so as not to overstimulate himself.  Thousands of s’Ziscari lining the seats of the arena, almost every single one of them dressed in black.  Lower still—the platform leading up to the stage.  A perimeter of blue figures now sitting down in a circle and then, at its center, a… a naked man and woman.

Obi-Wan’s heart pounds as he struggles to comprehend the sight, never having laid eyes on a nude woman before.  She’s on her elbows and knees, forehead lowered and resting against the floor, and the man kneels behind her, one hand holding her hips and the other wrapping around his—

Stars, Obi-Wan wants to end it all.  Right here.  His aim will be true.

But then… oh, no, he’s an idiot.  He’s a complete dullard, because he forgot.  Consumed by his own sheer anxiety and unease, Obi-Wan stupidly forgot an extremely crucial detail of the incredibly little he’s been told about the Sh’inzith.

—the projecting.

All at once, he’s nearly knocked over by the strength of the two Force sensitives at the center of the arena as they deliberately cast their minds out across the entire audience, presenting every sensation and fleeting thought they’re experiencing in all its intensity.  Obi-Wan immediately works to reinforce his mental shields as soon as he feels the shockwave about to hit, but there’s thousands of Force sensitives present—all of them congregated into one relatively small area, all of them tuning into the same two signatures and then suddenly… amplifying them back until it’s impossible for him to shut out.

“Oh, uh—” he just manages to hear you mutter through the whirlwind, just the slightest hint of panic in your voice peaking through the symphony of whispered thoughts and pulsing sensations coming from the stage, “—that isn’t good—”

Obi-Wan abruptly stumbles backwards and gasps at the awful, wretched feeling of something brunt pressing up hard against somewhere elusive, somewhere he’s never felt before towards the lower part of his body, and his mind fights viciously against it as he feels you spin around and reach out for his rapidly retreating figure.

“Wait, no—it’s okay, M-Master, it’s okay, it’s—” your voice cuts off and your hands suddenly fist into the robes at his chest, your forehead dropping to his shoulder against the sharp sting just continuing to push and push and push, “—i-it’s okay, it’s oka—”

He trips over his feet in the chaos and falls back on complete instinct and you’re so tightly attached to him that you’re yanked forwards with the momentum, the two of you plunging to the ground in a clumsy heap of grunts and tangled limbs.  Obi-Wan immediately starts crawling backwards across the floor underneath you, still trying to escape the horrible, inescapable sensation digging into a part of his body that doesn’t seem to exist, but it’s like you’re of the same mind—you’re scrambling forwards in the same direction trying to get away from the same thing, frantically attempting to calm him and simultaneously deal with the agony yourself, and then suddenly—

Oh—oh, Maker—

Suddenly something gives and surges in, and then Obi-Wan gasps—his elbows buckling under him and as the both of you drop down onto the floor because stars, it’s nearly blinding with impression.  Not only the aching, hard fullness stretching sharp and deep somewhere in his lower abdomen—but now a new sensation.  A tight, wet silk he feels swallowing him between his legs, concentrated on a part of his body that… does exist, a body part that’s currently pressed up right between your spread thighs.

“Fuck,” you moan hot against his throat, trying to find somewhere to brace yourself next to his shoulders and push yourself up off him, and he tries—Maker, he tries so hard not to, but his hands shoot out to grab your hips before he even knows what he’s doing and then he’s dragging his lower body up into yours on instinct alone, clamping his eyes shut and groaning out a desperate sound he’s never heard himself make before as his head drops against the floor.

It’s staggering.  It hurts.  He can't even hear your muffled noises anymore, not over the roaring encompassing his mind and body.  All he knows is that your hips quickly jerk back and grind down into his in response, sending Obi-Wan reeling while you bury your twisted cry of pleasure and pain into his neck.

The sound of it breaks through everything else.

Obi-Wan’s hands shake violently as they suddenly release you and then frantically shove at your shoulders, trying to push you off without hurting you.  He can’t think, he can’t see, he needs to leave—

“Get away,” he rasps desperately up at the sky, blinking his eyes wide but somehow not seeing anything in front of him but blackness.  “St-stars, get away from me—”

Suddenly you’re flipping off his body and onto your back next to him, too quick for it to be a mechanical movement alone, and he doesn’t even have the space in his mind nor the processing capacity to figure out if he Force pushed you off him or if it was you who did it to yourself.  He just clambers to his feet and stumbles away in a terrified, graceless retreat, bent in half, limping and gasping and fighting for every step he takes.

***

Your Master was right to leave as soon as possible, you think.  You were wrong to linger here for just a second to try and gain your bearings, because the more you work to grasp and attempt to organize them, the more mindless and disorienting they become.

You eventually have to heave over and drag yourself after him.

The further away you get from the arena, the easier it becomes to block the projection, but Maker, it’s exhausting.  You’re resigned to start out with a crawl—one of those Jedi Core crawls you haven’t had to do since the Academy but this one exponentially slower, forehead dropped down and eyes closed, just focusing on alternating shifting your elbows and your knees forwards and dedicating the rest of your mental energy to just isolating your mind from the debilitating assault.

Consulars don’t usually see much of war—you tend to do absolutely everything in your power to avoid it.  It’s the Guardians who experience the horrors of combat most often, who deal with ambushes and onslaughts from enemies of the Republic.  But Maker above, every merciless thrust into that poor little virgin at the center of the arena is like a blaster shooting directly at you, but then couple it with the thousands of reflections and ricochets in robes lining the bleachers?  You’re in the trenches of a deadly battle you had no idea was even about to break out and you have no weapon of defense besides retreat.

When you finally get far enough away to be able to push yourself upright as much as possible and continue staggering back to the palace on two feet, you have no concept for how long it’s been.  You can still feel the projection vibrating and clawing sharply at the edges of your consciousness, but at least the majority of your thoughts are your own now, and it gradually becomes easier and easier to focus and speed up to a clumsy run.

Though, no matter how successful you eventually are at muffling the vibrant sensations and thoughts of the two Force sensitives behind you—when they cum, you stumble down to your knees again and have to bite the back of your fist to keep from screaming.

Maker, it takes you a minute to recover.  You don’t even cum, you just feel it—the burst of energy from the Force in every direction, the violent explosion from the stadium that feels like it should fracture the ground beneath you.

You’re able to get up after a moment, if only because they decide to take mercy and finally cut off the projection.  You know that it’s a temporary relief, that they’ll likely be at this all night, but you hope the palace will be far enough away from the arena to block out the sensations completely.  You wonder if Master Kenobi felt that through the Force or whether he was too determined to block it out that he was able to simply ignore the nuclear missile that just detonated less than a few miles away from him.

You force yourself forwards and you want to hurry, you do—but strangely, in your wild state of exhaustion, stark reality is almost as debilitating as swimming through that endless madness was.  It’s quiet around you but the noise of still air pulses deafeningly in your eardrums after breaking free from such a thick mental filter separating you from your surroundings.  You still have your lightsaber clutched in your hand, Maker rejoice, and your thin robes are skewed awkwardly across your body, but you eventually find your way to the doors of the palace.

Though, trying to navigate the empty halls back to your Master’s chambers takes you longer than it should.  His signature is cloaked spectacularly, concealed to a mere speck you wouldn’t even know was there if you weren’t so closely acquainted with it for more than a decade.  You follow the flickering pixel of blue light through the obstacle ridden darkness, adjusting the front of your robes with one trembling hand while you wipe your brow with the other, closing your eyes and doing your best to take deep breaths.  He’ll be spiraling right now.  He’ll need a boulder to cling to in this tsunami, solid ground to stand on while the stars are falling out of the sky.

You… find him in your quarters instead.

The door is open and his handsome profile is to you, the thick fabric stretching over his broad shoulders now an agreeable light cream, familiar and telling of his intentions.  His hands are moving.  Setting something down on your bed—your robes, you soon realize.  He’s laying out your Jedi robes neatly for you across the fur blanketing the large mattress.

Master Kenobi begins speaking as soon as you step foot into the room, the tone of his voice very clearly impatient after having waited for you for so long.

“Change out of those ridiculous garments,” he tells you hastily, neatly laying out your leather belt across your dark tunic without even turning his head to look at you properly.  “We must leave.  Quickly.  Also—tell me you didn’t forget your saber at the arena, because if so, I’m afraid it’s lost to us forever now.  Ilum is only three days from here, perhaps we can stop there on the way back to Coruscant to find you another kyber cryst—”

You drop the hilt of your lightsaber on the floor and step forward, cautiously reaching out for his figure as he continues to ramble.  “Master, I—”

Your hand is thrown to the side with a subtle flick of his wrist and you instantly jerk to an abrupt halt, holding your palms out in front of you and keeping completely still while he spins around, his jaw slack and staring at you wide-eyed.  He takes a few steps away from you in shock.

“I’m sorry—” he immediately gasps, reaching out towards you even though the rest of his body is still desperately evading yours.  “Stars, I’m so sorry—that was just… That was excruciating, young one.  Why would anyone ever willingly—?”

“It—it doesn’t always—” you cut yourself off just in time, clamping your jaw shut before you can finish your sentence.

“We must leave,” he says once more as he turns back to your mattress, not appearing to hear you at all and shaking his head, far too frantic to sound like he’s just reminding you alone.  “We can’t do that.  I can’t do that—”

“It doesn’t always have to be—”  Maker, what is wrong with you?  Your heart kicks up in your chest and somehow stutters to a halt at the same time.  It’s the lingering effects of the assault your mind just experienced coupled with your desperate urge to console him that’s making you so utterly careless, you realize, it’s making your tongue loose.

“Stars, what do you mean?”  Master Kenobi finally snaps, and your blood runs ice cold.  “How do you know that?”

It takes the sum of all your years of training to keep the raging hurricane of emotion from showing in any capacity.  You feel like he’s holding his saber to your neck with how dangerously little you’re even allowing yourself to breathe right now, how utterly and completely still you’re holding yourself in front of him.

Lie, a little voice in your mind supplies quietly, the little voice you keep locked inside an impenetrable box of everything you are but have never been allowed to confront, haven’t been allowed to openly think just in case someone is listening too closely.  Lie.  Lie, right now.  Your silence is giving you away.

Only—you can’t.  You shouldn’t.  It’s not fair to keep this from him, not when you’re asking him to do something so structurally compromising to his belief system.  If… if you tell him the truth, perhaps he won’t judge you too harshly.  Perhaps he’ll feel… reassured, knowing he’s certainly not the first Jedi to break a sacred vow when he felt times were desperate enough.

Besides.  This might be the only secret that could potentially get you kicked out of the Order, but… it still isn’t your worst one.

“Because.”  The word is out of your mouth before you can rethink it, barely above a whisper.  “I… know.”

He doesn’t respond, and no.

No, you were wrong.  You were wrong to tell him the truth, and the look on his face immediately shoots panic through your whole body.

He doesn’t look reassured.

He looks… alienated.

“‘It doesn’t always?’”  Your Master eventually repeats back to you, and fuck—the implication is instantly clear.  The implication is made so clear from the sharpness in his tone, the hard edge to it as he rounds out the vowels in the last word that makes your heart twist and throb in your ribcage.  He might as well have just asked you how many times you must’ve violated your code of honor to know the difference.

“It’s not.”  You clear your throat and flick your gaze up to the ceiling, feeling like he’s using the Force to squeeze your chest in on itself.  “That was the absolute worst possible sensation that can be felt during… It’s—it’s not like that.  It won’t… be like that.  Not.”  Are there tears coming to your eyes?  “Not… with me.”

Utter quiet.  So quiet that if you really concentrate, you can hear the distant sounds of the arena continuing on with the Ritual without you.  You bite hard at your lip and wait for him to say something, anything.  Yell at you, tell you how disgusted he is, banish you from the Order.

Instead, Master Kenobi quite suddenly… deflates.  He sighs—not a heavy, exhausted one, but a soft one.  A quiet, accepting sort of sound.

He slowly lowers himself to the edge of the mattress and closes his eyes, running both hands through his hair, and it’s just enough to give you pause.  You glance over at him, trying not to let tears fall beyond the plateau of your lower lids with the frantic downward movement of your eyes, and you’re only just barely successful at it.

“It’s alright,” he says gently.  “It’s… it’s alright, young one.  I… suppose I am in no place to judge.  Quite… quite literally,” he murmurs, gesturing to the space around him with a lazy wave of his hand.  Maker, his figure is too watery and unfocused to make out his facial expressions, but you don’t want to blink to clear your vision just in case a sudden downpour escapes.  “It’s none of my business and I shouldn’t have asked.  You’re… not my Padawan anymore.  I should have no reason to… even care at all, really.”

There’s something that feels… major in that, something monumental yet incredibly well hidden, but you’re still too full of blind panic to interpret it further.  Your breathing is shaky and you wonder, quite stupidly and not for the first time in your life, if it’s somehow possible to use the Force to evaporate the water in your eyes before it turns into tears.

“I am certain it took place in your younger years, a long time ago,” he continues calmly when you don’t immediately say anything.  “You did always have a… a rather unconventional relationship with the rules.” 

Your only response is a quick jerk of a nod.  Yes.

“Yes,” you immediately agree, hoping your tone sounds convincing enough through the lingering tremors.  “It was… a long time ago.  I’ve changed, since then.  Grown up in many ways.”

It’s his turn to nod, and you manage to calm down just slightly.  You’re still breathing too hard and you’re a bit too braced, too much of a stance to truly feel like relief, but your heart rate is beginning to settle back into a somewhat acceptable rhythm.

Master Kenobi looks over at you, and he says absolutely nothing about the traces of water still glistening along your eyelashes.  He just smiles softly and pats the space next to him.

You cautiously make your way over to him after a moment, feeling more unsure now than you’ve felt this entire mission.  You leave at least a half a foot of space separating the two of you once you carefully sit yourself down on the mattress, and you can’t even look in his general direction.  You just focus on the long, draping sleeves of your black robe as you look down at your hands and wait for him to speak first.

“Sometimes,” he eventually sighs.  “Sometimes I… feel like you’re the person I know best in the entire galaxy, you know.  I’ve… I’ve known you far longer than I ever knew my own Master, young one.  I picked you out of thousands, and I’d do it thousands of times again.  Sometimes—especially since the day of your accolade and subsequent absence, I feel like I can know exactly what you’re thinking, even from across an entire star system.  And yet somehow, you… always surprise me.  Even after all these years, I am just.  Consistently surprised by you.”

You don’t know how to take that.  You just sit there in a guilty silence, still unable to turn your head or offer any sort of response.

“I chose you as a Padawan because you surprised me, you know,” he reminds you quietly.  “I had certain expectations for you, and you did not meet those expectations.  Instead, you presented an alternative I’d never before considered, an alternative that forced me to reevaluate you—and by extension, myself—far beyond what I had previously.  That is not a bad thing.  It has never been a bad thing.  As is made blatantly obvious by the fact that I’m the one currently standing in the way of saving lives, and you’re…not.”

Maker, this is thin ice.  You don’t know what to say that’ll express hesitant agreement with his sentiment without making it sound like you’re not apologetic for breaking your oath.  You’re… well, you’re not, not really.  His response itself is causing you to feel far more turmoil than any legitimate regret for your actions.

“It was—” On instinct, you almost say it was a mistake regardless of the conflicts you’re just so happening to encounter on this mission, but something stops you.  You suddenly remember your place here, your goal.  To save the galaxy from the Separatists’ reign.  And, by extension… sleep with your Master.  You can’t call it a mistake if you’re going to ultimately try to convince him to do the same thing.  So instead, you scramble to finish your sentence with a different thought, knowing his full attention is pinned to you right now.  “…A long time ago,” is all your exhausted mind is able to come up with.

“Yes,” he gives you a small, companionable smile.  “It’s alright.  Your prior lapse—or, well… lapses in judgement… will forever be safe with me.”

And still, you don’t feel relief.  Not when Master Kenobi very quickly appears to look uncertain.

“I… apologize,” he offers after a moment, “if.  If I ever made you feel like… like you could not confide in me about any struggles or… or urges you may have been experienc—”

“Maker,” you suddenly interrupt with a frantic wave of your hands, everything cringing inside you, “Maker, we don’t have to do this.  None of it, it’s okay.  Know what?  Let’s just go home—screw the galaxy, I don’t care, just stop talking.”

He snaps his eyes over to you, a sudden bark of laughter escaping him before the rest of his face even seems to register something was funny.

It evolves.  Eventually he’s covering his face and stifling ridiculous little snorts behind his hands, trying to apologize in between the chuckles but laughing even harder.  It’s almost like… just a form of pure stress relief for him.  So far beyond traumatized that it’s revealing itself in a slightly hysterical way, even if what you said wasn’t hysterical at all.

“Now you have a mere glimpse into what my experience has been like today,” he finally tells you with a sparkling grin once he composes himself, lifting his chin as he looks at you and scratching his beard with a quiet flicking sound.  “Shall I keep going?  If this mission has taught me anything, it’s that no matter what, things can always get worse.”

“They don’t have to.”  You say it without thinking, the gentle reprieve caused by his laughter flowing through you in waves and making you throw caution to the wind.  The four words serve to shut him up quite quickly however, even though it was the opposite of your intent, and your smile drops.  Maker, just freely conversing with him about these things is navigating a minefield for his mental state.

“You… you say that, and yet even—” Master Kenobi eventually responds, cutting himself off with a cough.  “Even the things I’ve heard are meant to feel… pleasant, were just.”  He shakes his head and blinks his crystal blue eyes over at you.  “By all accounts.  Agony.”

“I know,” you nod.  “I know.  Projecting that specific situation was… sadistic of them.  A distortion of the truth.  Probably rooted in deep tradition, but also a great scare tactic if I ever saw one, playing with us by presenting the absolute worst of it before anything else.  It won’t hurt.  At all.  I promise.  In fact—I-I can make it feel—”

Maker, you don’t even finish your sentence, but you must think the general idea loud enough for him to understand.  You don’t actually have a specific word in mind—good, great, amazing, euphoric?—and yet, something quiet settles over you two at the silent implication, the mere whisper of the possibility of you pleasuring him.

And him… allowing it.

“Master, I—”

“Don’t,” he quickly tells you.  “Don’t call—You don’t have to… call me that.  Just for right now, it’s.  I don’t—” he takes a breath that sounds shakier than it looks, and then he paints an easy, fake smile on his face following the exhale.  You recognize that smile anywhere, though.  While you’ve never seen him wear it before, it’s the smile that politicians make when they’re about to present a lesser truth to you, a smile shown to you in negotiations all the time that signifies something… hidden.  He’s hiding something, something important, and you have no idea what it could possibly be.  “I don’t feel like I even deserve to be called that right now, young one.  Perhaps you should be the Master, and I the learner.”

“Ah yes, the circle is now complete,” you can’t help but jest in return, wanting to keep the tone light even though the subject matter is heavy.  “Is now when we trade lightsabers?”

“Indeed,” he smiles, this time more sincere, and… you can’t pinpoint when exactly it happened, but it appears you’re physically closer to each other now than you were when you first sat down.

“Do they, uh… actually expect us to…”  You clear your throat and wave a hand around, “…Project the entire time like that?”

Master Kenobi quickly shakes his head.  “No.  s’Zer—Queen s’Zerthia informed me that.  Ah.  For us, projection will only be necessary during the… well, she called it the ‘closing ceremonies.’”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you nod.  “I… see.”

It’s like you can physically feel his body start to break out into a cold sweat next to you at the sudden… realness of it all, the realization that it has to be getting late.  Close to midnight, if you’re not already pushing it.  It’s come time to make a final decision, you both know it.  You want to console him, offer him some kind of solace or reprieve, but stars, you just don’t know how, not when you’re this much of a mess about this, too, but for entirely different reasons.  You don’t have a single clue how to make him feel better about any of this.

“I just,” you rush before you lose the nerve, “I want you to know that—e-even if you feel like you’re somehow alone in this, you’re not.  Okay?  I’m… I’m really nervous, too.  I don’t… I don’t actually know what to do at all right now.  I don’t know whether to respect your apprehension or tell you it’s unfounded.  I don’t know if I should remind you what’s at stake here or whether I should avoid mentioning it at all costs.  I have no idea what position I should take, but I’ll—I’ll take whichever one you want me to.”

And it’s odd, because when you first launched into your confession, Master Kenobi gradually began to look more and more relieved, but at a certain point, something just goes horribly wrong.  You don’t know what you said, but whatever it was, it seems to rocket through your Master and suddenly his breathing stutters.

For a moment, you think he’s going to reach back, yank your neatly folded Jedi robes up from the mattress and push the dark fabric into your hands.  Tell you he’ll meet you at the docking bay posthaste, tell you not to linger, tell you that the mission was a failure.  But then—

“Before,” he suddenly says, the word almost startling you with how abrupt it comes out sounding.  Almost like he wasn’t quite expecting himself to say it either.  “Earlier today, you asked… you asked if there was anything you could do to… make this easier.”

“Yes,” you prompt immediately.  He won’t look at you, and for some reason your heart begins beating faster and the inside of your thighs are getting warm.

“I… I’m not sure I’ll be able to go through with this,” he admits with a whisper, his voice sounding so quietly reluctant, like he doesn’t want to say the words aloud but is forcing himself to.  “But… the Council put you in charge of negotiations.”

Your eyebrows furrow, trying to understand his implication.  What does that have to do with anything?  Is he saying that you’re supposed to be in charge, and therefore he’s defaulting to you?  “I’m not sure I—”

“The Galactic Republic…”  Master Kenobi enunciates very, very pointedly, still unable to look at you, “…put you in charge of negotiations.”

Specifying—or in this case, generalizing—doesn’t help much.  “I’m still not—”

“Maker, for—for the good of the Republic, young one,” he presses under his breath and finally flicks his gaze up to meet yours, sounding urgent and torn in equal parts.  “Negotiate.”

Stars, negotiate with who?  With—with him?  For the good of the…?  Is he asking you to somehow reason with him beyond what you’ve attempted to do already, or persuade him to do what’s right for—?

Maker—Master Kenobi is asking you to seduce him.

Shock paints your expression blank and his eyes instantly evade yours once more.  You have to sit there for just a second and double-check that you’re not dreaming.  None of this seems real.  All of it seems like an incredibly elaborate illusion of the Force, ever since you first laid eyes on him at the start of this mission.  You know you missed him but stars, did you truly miss him this terribly?  Your longing must rival something fierce to unconsciously conjure this wild of a scenario.  Is he actually here right now?  Have you been speaking to a ghost?  Are you actually here right now?  Are you going to wake up any second and remember he’s thousands of lightyears away and has been for years, risking his life on the front lines of galactic war while you’re left to play politics and negotiate treaties behind the scenes?

These thoughts aren’t safe to have in normal interactions with him, but nothing about this situation is normal, and while you know Master Kenobi has years of experience reading your signature, he most likely won’t be able to gauge the specific details of your thoughts when you can sense how intensely he’s focused on guarding his own chaotic mind from you.

So you let yourself think.  If only for a second, you sit next to him and allow yourself to just… think about him.  About how much you care for him, how desperately you ache for him—you let all these improper longings finally have their moment with you.  You let yourself confront it, crack the lid of the hidden box tucked away behind your consciousness and brave it, because if there was ever a moment to do so, it’s right now.

Your heart starts slamming up against your ribcage and your hands feel like they’re tingling.  He wants you to convince him to have sex with you.  He’s asking you to corrupt him.  He wants you to negotiate the galaxy’s survival with the last man standing in the way of its prosperity—a good man with strong, immovable morals, a man who understands the consequences that follow integrity around and won’t be easy to tempt.

“This was a bad idea,” suddenly comes Master Kenobi’s voice, quickly backpedaling after too long of a silence.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  Forget I said that, we should just g—”

“Would you like to meditate?”  You immediately ask him on a complete whim, shuffling back towards the middle of the mattress for the second time today.  You’re careful to make sure he doesn’t see you carelessly flick your neat robes to the floor with the Force, clearing the top of the large mattress.  “Let’s meditate.”

“Stars,” he breathes, shyly his head turning to follow you, “I’d love nothing more, but there truly just isn’t any time—”

You find it easier than you thought it’d be to pull a playful face at him, crossing your legs and straightening your spine.  “Please, you’re a Guardian.  You blue sabers practically invented battle meditation, did you not?”

He looks skeptical for a moment, as he has a valid right to be.  “Is this a battle?”  He eventually asks over his shoulder.

You say nothing in response to that, instead using the Force with a flex of your finger to tug at the loose cream fabric of his robe at his elbow.  “Come on, it’ll do us good.”

He looks conflicted for a second, but then ultimately decides to humor you.  “Alright,” Master Kenobi finally agrees, turning around and crawling towards you on the mattress, and you’re just quick enough to stamp down a flicker of arousal at the mere sight of it.  “It won’t hurt.”

“Of course it won’t,” you agree with just a bit too much air in your voice, but he doesn’t seem to notice it.  He just seats himself directly in front of you, facing you, crossing his legs close enough to yours that your knees barely touch, and—

—Maker, he’s lovely.

You purposefully let yourself think it as his eyes slowly fall closed and he takes a deep breath, beginning to tame the wild tempest of his mind.  You let the word flitter around your thoughts without instantly repressing it like you always do, and just the mere act of allowing yourself to acknowledge the truth is freeing.  He’s lovely.  He’s lovely.  You could scream it.

Your eyes trail down the lines of his ever softening, tranquil expression, not even bothering to pretend to meditate for his benefit this time.  Your gaze roams shamelessly across his face, the way his hair is combed back away from it.  The sandy, masculine beard leading down to the thick column of his throat, the broad lines of his shoulders draped in pale fabric, the way his chest slowly moves as he breathes.  Lovely.  Lovely.

And then you go… lower.

His abdomen is stretched long with how upright he’s sitting, his flawless meditation posture.  His thighs are spread wide in this position, pants stretched tight into an elusive drum over his crotch and preventing you from truly seeing anything—but stars is it a thrill even just letting yourself look. 

Especially knowing that the more his mind works to compose itself, the easier it’ll be for him to hear you.

You keep thinking, growing bolder the more you’re left alone with this box wide open.  You think about how lithe and strong his body is, how it would feel under your hands.  You think about all the different things you want to show him, all the… the mind shattering pleasure you can give him if he’ll allow y—

Master Kenobi says your name without opening his eyes.

It doesn’t sound the way you expect, though you don’t really know what you expected it to sound like.  A sharp, frustrated bark?  An exasperated, pleading attempt to get you to stop?

No—none of those.  It’s a quiet, low growl of a sound, and the clear warning in it absolutely burns a hole through you like he picked up his lightsaber and used it instead.

You take practiced breaths, trying to calm yourself down.  Stars, he just said your name, he’s said it so many times before, and yet hearing it in his mouth with that tone in this context feels like he just strapped rockets to your ankles and told you to stay put.  You’re impatient.  You’re turning yourself on, working yourself up, trying to get to where you can actually make a move on him after dedicating so many years to desperately repressing the longing to do so.  Once he told you to negotiate this deal with him, however, it’s as if every ounce of the impeccable self control you’ve practiced so spectacularly throughout most of your life slowly started to unravel.

Reaching out tentatively so as not to startle him, you wrap both of your palms around the bend of his knees and squeeze gently.  Master Kenobi displays no physical signs of—well, anything really, keeping his body completely rigid under your hands with no noticeable alterations in his breathing pattern.  Biting your lip, you begin to slowly rotate your thumbs, making sure to keep your movements slow and perfectly symmetrical.  Complete relaxation is your ultimate goal here—coaxing your Master into a serene state where physical contact is desired, not obligatory.  He's so uncomfortable with the concept of intimacy in and of itself though, from the way his eyebrows start to furrow and his spine begins gradually tilting back and away from you, it's almost as if your ministrations are dampening rather than fueling.

“Relax,” you murmur, and stars, even though you make it sound quiet and gentle, it’s like the melodic lull of your voice appears to startle him more than if you’d just spoken normally.  Maker—it’s counterintuitive; how are you supposed to turn someone on when the mere state of being turned on turns them off?  “Relax with me, it’s okay—”

“But I just can't, young one,” he suddenly implores, his voice pressed up tight in his throat, his cerulean eyes popping open in frustration and something else—an honest, heartfelt emotion that's strikingly less familiar to you, even after years spent by his side: deep, hot, stomach-wrenching guilt.  You watch your Master’s palms run the length of his thighs; back and forth, back and forth—almost like a nervous tick, you think—and it’s oddly endearing, if not increasingly concerning.  “I just can't, this is all so wrong.  Don't you understand?  E-Even if the Council did provide a—well, a rather admittedly ineluctable blessing for this downright ludicrous endeavor, i-it’s… I don't…”  He takes a deep breath, and visually, it looks like he's attempting to collect his thoughts and composure, but you know your Master all too well.  You know what he's really doing, and at this point, it's almost… frustrating.

“What are you so afraid of?”  You clutch his knees and whisper quietly, interrupting him before he can verbalize whatever perfectly logical reason he's trying to formulate as to why you both should leave the planet immediately, what he's going to say to the Council if they ever inquire as to why negotiations ultimately failed.  He jerks his head up sharply to look at you.

“The Jedi fear nothing,” is his automatic response, though his previously intense gaze strays slightly from yours after a second of too much eye contact.  “Fear is the path to the Dark Side, you know this.”

“And yet you are afraid,” you remark calmly, studying the way he’s turned his face away from you completely now, how you can still see his jaw clench under the thick beard with his profile shown to you like this.  “I—I’m trying to understand, Master, but I—I don’t.  Even if this mission were half as important as it is, your loyalty to the Order would follow you right into an early grave.  But this?”  You remove a palm from his knee to gesture between the two of you, the mattress beneath the both of you, “fulfilling this mission and these terms to save the entire galaxy is too ‘downright ludicrous’ for the Great Negotiator?  I don’t believe it.  Tell me what you’re really afraid of.”

Only, he’s suddenly moving—away from you.  Turning and planting his palms to fur, beginning to climb to the edge of the bed and sweep his legs around under him, and your voice has an unintentional edge to it when you address his back.

“Do you know how many lives over I owe you?”  You ask, and he jerks to an abrupt halt, feet just shy of stepping on the floor.  “Do you have any idea the stockpile of mortal gratitude you’ve amassed from me?  How many times you’ve risked your death to save me from mine over the years—can you count them?  I have.  I know my debt to you, I know the weight of my life piled on top of itself over and over again.  I remember each and every one of them like they happened yesterday, and not once did you hesitate even slightly, let alone the way you’ve hesitated today.”

”And?”  Master Kenobi quite suddenly snaps over his shoulder as he grips the edge of the mattress, sounding sharp but not necessarily directed towards you.  “What is your point?”

“My point is that if you’d so readily trade your death time and time again to prevent that of even one other person, let alone a difficult Padawan who caused the Order nothing but grief for years, then what is it that makes the deaths of trillions—” you nearly say preferable to bedding me before you realize how incredibly harsh that would sound, but something about the way he seems to tense his shoulders and curl inwards implies he was following the general cadence of your agitated signature more than the specific content of your words.

He says absolutely nothing, but he doesn’t move to drop his feet to the floor, either.  If only you could punch a proverbial hole through his practically indestructible mental barriers, you'd see the real reason he's so flustered, why he's purposely attempting to deceive you.  Unfortunately for you though, they feel like they're made of triple-reinforced beskar, a countermeasure gradually increasing in strength the more you try to probe.

But then—all at once, something clicks.  Something… fundamental.  An understanding. 

Your Master is a gifted negotiator, yes.  But more than that.

He wields a blue saber.  Not a green one.

He’s a Guardian.  A warrior.  He fights.  It’s something that has never truly been part of your nature, no matter how much you struggled with it over the years—but it is a part of his, no matter how exceptionally he’s been able to mask it for even longer.

So, all at once, you stop pushing.  Your signature abruptly pulls away from him, gives him room to breathe and simply hovers within your own personal space, unassuming and careful not to disturb him.  You see your Master lift his chin and straighten his spine slightly, immediately noticing your absence and the constant pressure you’d been applying, and you honestly can’t tell if he relaxes or tenses up even more because of it.

Finally, when you feel like it’s been long enough, you slowly reach out and gently place your hand on his arm.  This time, there’s no underlying motivation attached, no inherent desire for him to fulfill any sort of obligation.  Just a warm, companionable gesture to reinforce the simple knowledge that you’re both in this together, for better or worse.

Please tell me, Obi-Wan, you quietly whisper to him through the Force, allowing your tone and energy to transfer through your open palm and into his troubled spirit as softly and gently as you possibly can—a caress more than anything even close to a sentence or inquiry.  Your usage of his first name is entirely unprecedented however, and your Master sucks in a sharp breath in response.

I don't… But then the subconscious, half-formed thought fades away almost as quickly as it’s offered to you from behind the solid, unyielding fortress of his mind.  “W-what are you doing?”

You bite your lip, wondering how honest you should be with him right now.  Though, you suppose, if you truly want him to confide in you, you should at least meet him halfway.

“You’re the locked door,” you finally settle on.  “This is me knocking.”

Obi-Wan turns around and blinks at you, looking for all the stars in this galaxy like that was quite possibly the last thing he expected you to say.  You can see the frantic thoughts pass through his eyes almost as if the clear blue was completely transparent, likely remembering all the times you’ve leaned on him for guidance, listened intently and learned from his wisdom and experience.  And now you’re a fully grown woman patiently offering him your ear, wondering if you’ve earned enough of his trust for him to do the same.

“I’m afraid I’ll form an attachment to you.”  The words tumble from his mouth even though his body all but whips away from you in the process.  “It’s unreasonable for the Council to expect this from me.  From us.  I’m afraid our relationship will forever be tarnished from this, that neither of us will ever be able to go back to the way things were before.  I’m afraid that regardless of whatever decision I make, I won’t be able to carry the guilt on my conscience and continue to call myself a Jedi and Guardian of the Republic.  But mostly, I just—I-I—”

Your heart is pounding as Obi-Wan buries his face into his hands and his muffled voice groans raggedly, “—I’m afraid I’ll like it.  I’m afraid I’ll want it again, and again.  I’m afraid it’ll follow me back to Coruscant, that I’ll save the galaxy but spend the rest of my days aching for something I’ll never be able to keep, and that’s petrifying.  Desire, passion, selfishness, possession; all of them lead to Darkness, and I can—I can feel it right now.  Your soul is so gentle, so peaceful, and yet you… you inspire such Darkness in me, dove.”

Maker, you’re trying so hard.  So hard to keep your legs from clenching together at the utter desperation in his tone, how his breathing has picked up now that the words have ripped themselves out of his throat, like the whole thing was physical agony even just to say.  You have to take a second.  You’ve been so patient this entire time, but stars—this one makes you need a moment.  You’re so glad his eyes are clamped shut behind his fingers right now because yours lose focus trying to mask the absolutely debilitating wave of arousal that sinks down hot through your stomach.

Even when you regain the ability to speak, the ability to form a safe and proper response to the bombshell he just dropped on you completely evades you.

You purposefully don't say that you're already helplessly attached to him, that the colors of the galaxy somehow lost their brilliance the day you graduated to Knight, the day you left his side.  You don't say that you want this so badly you can feel it in your neck, that it would probably break you in half if he said no to this now.  Though it's the honest-to-Maker truth, you know discovering this information will only cause your Master to further distance himself from you, and somehow that thought alone is a million times worse than being denied the opportunity to be this close to him.  Even… even if what you end up sharing is more emotional than physical.

So you take a deep breath to center yourself, and choose your words very carefully.

“A compromise, then.”

Obi-Wan suddenly raises his head, turning around to look at you and blinking twice.  “A what?”

“You told me to negotiate.  What do we do as negotiators, hm?”  You raise an eyebrow, giving him a gentle smile and trying not to curl your fingers into the fur underneath you with how hard it is to conceal your burning arousal.  Do it for him.  Do it for your Master, you’re in l—you… care about him, and you care about the things he cares about, even if doing so feels like it’ll rip you apart.  “We compromise.  Yes?  So, let’s find one.”

He shakes his head.  “I don’t see h—”

“If you were to…”  You cut him off and look down, trying to find the most delicate way to phrase this.  “If you were to… find other means to bring yourself to completion, would you be able to convince anyone listening that I was the one doing it?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t even blink this time.  He just stares at you, holding himself like a statue in front of you.  Finally, he seems to find himself.  “I… I don’t—I don’t know if I can.”

“You’re stronger in the Force than anyone on this planet, Master,” you encourage softly, placing a hand back on his arm and squeezing this time.  “I’ve felt it.”

“N-No,” he practically hiccups.  “No, I mean I-I… I don’t know if… if I can.”

Your eyebrows narrow, a mixture of confusion and concern coloring your expression.  “If you can…?”

He looks back at you almost desperately, his eyes practically begging you to figure it out so he doesn’t have to say it.  Finally, Obi-Wan sighs, seeming to collapse in on himself with its intensity.  “I—I’ve never… purposefully reached completion before,” he admits.  “I’m—I’m not sure how to.”

Your eyes widen, wanting to kick yourself for making assumptions.  Of course.  Of course he’d follow his oath to its strictest interpretation, why would you ever think otherwise?  “Oh, y-yes, of course not,” you stutter, sounding incredibly stupid and perfectly mirroring the embarrassed flush also painting your Master’s cheeks, “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“It’s alright,” he holds up a hand.  “We simply… view such things differently.  So long as you do not pass judgment, then neither shall I.”

You nod and look down at your hands, wondering how else you can attempt to tackle this predicament.  “What if I…”  You blink slowly, almost wanting to keep your eyes closed in case he’s offended by the idea but figuring you should have them open to read his responses.  “What if I… don’t touch you?”

Now he just looks confused.  “I’m sorry?”

You blush and clear your throat, obviously phrasing this wrong.  “If you can modify the context of your projection, then I can… get you there.  Without touching you.”

“How could you accomplish such a thing without tou—” Obi-Wan immediately cuts himself off when you lift your hand and close your eyes.

His thigh.  The right one—you focus on it.  There.  Right above the bend of his knee folding over the edge of the mattress, you concentrate all the energy from your fingertips and reach out, connecting the two together.  And then you take a deep breath and begin to draw your attention slowly upwards.

Your Master’s breath catches in his throat as you use the Force to delicately trail further up his leg, not laying a single hand on him as his muscles start to visibly tighten and quiver.

“Young one, I—”  His breathing stutters when you keep your hand raised but let your head tilt and drop down towards your shoulder with your energy, slinking down the inside of his thigh like water and getting dangerously close to his— “Stars, hang on—”

You blink your eyes open at him and continue concentrating right there, letting your focus melt warm and thick along the muscle and squeeze it—

“Maker—”  Obi-Wan gasps and drops his head back, his legs nearly spasming apart.  “Maker, hang on, I…”

“Do you…” You breathe tightly, flicking your eyes down to the way he’s fisting the fur under his hands and subconsciously flexing his hips up just the slightest bit.  Even though the Force, his body feels good.  Strong, sturdy, and braced tight under your attention.  “Do you want me to keep doing this?  I can… go higher.”

“You can…?  The—the Force isn’t—” Obi-Wan groans, his eyes clamping shut, “—isn’t meant to be used in such… in such… If I’m to break my oath, young one, it needn’t be so… so blasphemous—”

Trying to conceal the hot sparks of arousal deep in your stomach, you simply allow your metaphysical hand to continue resting right at the juncture of his hip and thigh, waiting for a real answer.  You bite your lip and wait for him to tell you to either cut it out or to keep going.  He doesn’t even have to say it out loud if he doesn’t want to—he can just slide it under the impassable door still separating him from you, the door you’re eventually going to get him to unlock himself.

His back is to you, so you can only see a bit of his face from this angle, but you can hear him loud and clear when he opens his mouth and whispers to you, barely louder than a breath.  “Go higher.”

Adrenaline rockets through your veins and slowly, your fingers curl in thin air while your gentle energy wraps itself around his cock.

Both of Obi-Wan’s hands instantly fly up to his face and he releases a tight, longing whimper into his palms, and you feel almost as desperate as he sounds.  You can sense the ghost of his thickness in your hand, and the way he’s already throbbing for it is like pure spice to you.

You can’t stop your crossed legs from shuffling and rotating your body to face his hunched spine more directly, just taking a second and allowing him to adjust to the sensation of you just holding him between his legs like this.  Your fingers rest gently along his pulsing skin while he hides from you, and if only to get a little bit more of a reaction for your own sake, your thumb just barely angles to delicately brush up under his frenulum.  

Obi-Wan shudders and makes a choking noise behind his palms, and oh good Maker, you really want to see his face.  You know it’ll probably never happen unless you take your own initiative, but you also don’t want to overstep and snap him out of this blissful reverie.  Still, something compels you to be so gentle about it that he hopefully won’t even notice. 

You start to slowly work the length of him and squeeze his cock a bit more firmly, but a tendril of your energy slowly slithers upwards, so quiet and full of caution that it hardly even counts.  Very carefully, you start to flatten the lifeforce from your other palm over his stomach and trail it up, gradually urging him to stretch his slouched figure upright and then eventually start to tip backwards, never once letting your focus on his throbbing erection falter.

Your courageous efforts bestow prosperous rewards.  Obi-Wan’s hands drag down the length of his face and he makes it almost too easy to keep pressing him back—back back back until his muscles give up what little fight they were putting up against it and his shoulders are dropping down to the mattress, his head falling into your lap.

“There we go,” you whisper under your breath, just loud enough to softly encourage him if he’s listening but avoiding a break in his focus if he’s not.  “That’s not so bad.”

“It isn’t,” Obi-Wan gasps up at you, his eyes tightly closed but his jaw slack and his handsome features screwed up in rapture.  “Oh, no, it’s… it’s really… rea—good.”

You bite your lip and your cunt flexes hard between your legs without your permission, feeling so empty.  If you’re being honest, only touching him through the Force causes your hand to become increasingly bold, also feeling too empty.  Obi-Wan’s head rolls to the side and he pants hot air against the thin black fabric covering your thighs as you tighten your hold around him just slightly and start to move up and down his cock in earnest.

“Fuck,” he whispers, the dirty word and rasp in his voice contrasting brilliantly with the proper Coruscanti accent and the crisp enunciation behind it.  “Fuck, this feels so good, I—”

His fingers grab at the fur covering the mattress top and pull at it, his adam’s apple bobbing sharp along the arching column of his throat as he groans and twists his head around in your lap.  He confesses it like it’s so wrong, but it can’t be wrong when he fits so perfectly in your hand?  How can this be wrong when it’s the only pleasure you can possibly give him that’s anywhere near close enough to match the way you feel when he’s around?  Even then, it’s but a fraction.

Your gaze flickers briefly from his face to check your progress with his body, and—stars, there’s a startling wet spot staining the front of his pale trousers, his cock tenting up shameless and needy for you to ache and throb just as desperately for in return.  Fuck, he deserves this, he deserves more—

“I can—I can make it better—” you can’t help but gasp, your eyebrows slanting upwards with need.  “Oh fuck, I can make it so much better than this for you, Obi-Wan—”

“You…?”  He blinks his stormy eyes open and sounds like he’s about to explode.  “This can be—” he chokes out, “—better?”

You can’t stop yourself.  Your pussy is clamped up so tight between your legs and Maker, you want to reward him for being so good to you, give him true adoration instead of phantom touches.  You don’t think before you’re moving out from under him and slinking down onto the floor, slipping in between his spread thighs.  You use the Force with a bend of your finger to tug his pants down just enough, just enough to let the swollen tip of his cock peak through the waistband, and then your head is dropping into his lap as you let it slide into your hot mouth.

Obi-Wan lifts his head and snarls at you—and something across the room shatters as you widen your throat for him and slowly sink down his length, curling your finger to stretch his hemline further as you go.  His fingers aren’t gentle when they fist into your hair and neither is the way he immediately twists it sideways, feeling like he’s trying to pull you off and shove you down on him at the same time.

You’re stuck between going as slow as you physically can to drag this out and giving him the best oral you’ve ever given to make him dream about this for the rest of his life.  You want him to want this as badly as you have for so many years.  You want him to fall into this Darkness with you, to crave you and what you can give to him so much that he’ll never want to leave you again.

So you make it wet.  You make it soft and slow and wet, switching between sucking gently at the tip and swirling your tongue around it, and then inching his length down your throat and swallowing around the thick girth of it once you can’t fit anymore in your mouth.  Obi-Wan is just an absolute mess about it—he can’t sit still, he’s tugging uselessly on your hair, whimpering out his bliss into the quiet room while you close your eyes and ignore his squirming, just taking your sweet time enjoying him and the way he feels.

He tastes exquisite.  Maybe it’s just because all your broken, stupid brain can think right now is slightly varying forms of my Master’s cock is in my mouth and it’s fucking leaking while you slowly nurse from it with your tongue, but stars—he tastes exquisite.

He’s swollen.  Throbbing.  Aching for you.  Releasing precum from the tip like his body is producing way too much of it after decades of neglect and just needs to get it all out at once.  Shifting and writhing underneath you but managing to never move his hips or cock a single inch away from the soft attention you’re giving him.  You can feel his smooth skin pulse against your tongue as you continue your lazy pleasuring, finally giving him what you’ve both been denied for so long and steadily swallowing down the spoils of your endeavors.

“—Wait, wait, Maker—stop,” you faintly hear gasped from above you not long after you even begin, and it takes the sum of all your efforts to unlodge his throbbing cock from your throat and pull away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you exhale automatically, trying not to slur your words as a bit of drool slides down your chin.  “I’m s’sorry, Obi, I should’ve asked before I—”

“Something’s… n-not right,” Obi-Wan interrupts you and lifts himself up to his elbows, his abdominal muscles heaving and a wild, frenzied look in his startlingly bright eyes.  “My stomach was—I-I felt—”

Heat blooms through you along with a realization, and your eyelids begin to droop slightly at just how sexy it is—the fact that this man, this fully grown, red-blooded, warrior of a man is currently teetering on the precipice of his very first ever orgasm, and you’re the only one with the power to give it to him.

You shuffle backwards slightly, grabbing hold of his thighs and squeezing to get his attention.  “Hey.  It’s okay, relax.”

Obi-Wan nods his head vigorously down at you, the exact opposite of relaxed.

“Listen to me,” you urge quietly, trying to ignore the sight of his thick, swollen cock twitching restlessly against his abdomen, precum still steadily dribbling at the tip.  Is your mouth watering?  “This is it.  You’ll need to start projecting when you’re ready.  It’ll be tricky, but not impossible.  You’ll just have to imagine you’re inside me when it happens.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head vigorously from side to side, vehemently opposed.

“No, I don’t—” He croaks, “—I don’t know what it’s like, I won’t be able to—”

“Doesn’t my mouth feel similar at least?”  You ask, looking down at his cock once more.

“I-I—” Obi-Wan sputters, “I don’t know, young one—you tell me!”

Okay, well.  He… makes a valid point.

You settle back on your knees even further, gazing at your Master thoughtfully.  His chest continues to rise and fall with heavy breaths, a thin sheen of sweat coating his temples and a mild flush high in his cheeks, but his eyes have regained a bit of their focus.  “You can just try to imagine the, uh,” you try, your cunt nearly convulsing with burning need at the mere sight of him, “the same positioning and sensation from… earlier?”

“Alright, I can…”  Obi-Wan nods, though his hands are shaking.  “I’ll do the best I…”

You can’t help but lean forward to press a soft, encouraging kiss to his thigh, and he jerks under your touch.  You try it again, receiving the same result, and it makes you pause for just a minute longer.

“I’m nervous,” he blurts unceremoniously after a moment of stillness, as if you hadn’t noticed.  “Oh stars, I’m nervous, I—”

“Obi-Wan,” you let your voice lull, your hands squeezing gently around the bend of his knees once more.  “Calm down.  Clear your mind.”

He hiccups and you wait.  You wait with your mouth a few inches away from his cock, waiting for his breathing to slow and for him to follow your lead.

Can you hear me?  You murmur through the Force, and he quickly whimpers and nods.  Focus your thoughts.

You gently kiss at his tensing thighs once again, and he doesn’t flinch away from you this time.  His breathing slows into a calmer, steadier rhythm, letting you trail your lips gently along the curve of his leg.

Will you let me try something?  You ask after a moment, opening your mouth just the slightest bit to brush your tongue out and taste his skin.

“Y-Yes,” Obi-Wan says quietly, his breath stuttering through the word.

And—perhaps you shouldn’t have, but you give him something; a suggestion, more than anything else.  You give him a… visual.  A reference to guide his mind through the Force.

You, still in your black robe, slowly standing up from between his legs.  Widening your stance to straddle his lap, pull you robes up just enough, and then adjust your hips just slightly over the head of his cock.

Obi-Wan inhales sharply at the vision, his eyes clamping tightly shut against it in vain.  He can close his eyes, turn away, hide his face all he wants—he can’t escape the way your body looks as it slowly begins to sink down on his.

At the exact same time, you lower your mouth around his cock once more, and you try to make it as close to the sensation as possible.  You don’t even move your tongue, you simply lift your soft palate and close your lips around his girth, beginning to carefully bob up and down along his length in time to the image you’re conjuring of you riding him.

Only, you already feel his balls tightening up and his body starting to go rigid with tension once again, and you can sense him still wanting to resist his approaching orgasm.  It’s okay, Master, you encourage quietly through the vision, it’s okay, just let it come easy.

“I—I’m not—” he shakes his head back and forth against the bed frantically, his breathing getting shallower and almost immediately picking back up to where it was before you stopped.  “I d-don’t want—”

Stop fighting, you tell him, continuing to mimic the sensation of him thrusting into your aching, neglected cunt with slow and steady movements of your throat.  Don’t run from it, let it take you.

He grits your name tightly in response and subconsciously begins to rock his hips up to match your unhurried pace, his ragged breathing gasping out into the quiet room and gradually increasing in volume and desperation the longer he stubbornly tries to hold out against it.

You know not strong enough to use the Force to coax it out of him.  You can’t alter your technique and break the illusion, either.  So you have to resort to desperate measures.

There’s enough remaining wherewithal to your mind that prevents you from permanently damaging his clothing when you tear his robes open with the Force and allow the metaphysical image of yourself to rip them apart with your hands.  Obi-Wan gasps when both versions of you reach up his bare torso at the same time and dig your nails into his chest.

Master—you demand, taking his cock down your throat as far as you can go and then clawing hard down his stomach—cum.

And thank everything good and right in the universe that he remembers at the very last second to start projecting, because being this close to someone as strong in the Force as Obi-Wan when he finally succumbs to his first taste of the Dark Side is just a fucking atomic missile straight to your nervous system.

It’s all you can do to just remember to keep swallowing.

The projection he casts out through the shockwave is utterly flawless—brilliantly composed, looking and feeling so authentic and overwhelming even from this distance that there should be no issue at all convincing any s’Ziscari in the wide vicinity who are tuning in right now.

Except—then you hear it.  Through the roaring pleasure of his thoughts, a flicker of his subconscious he’s unable to mask through the mind blowing bliss.

Is she…? Maker above, she’s drinking it—

A ragged groan tears through the silence of the room, his cock pulsing spectacularly on your tongue.  He just keeps cumming, and cumming, and so you just have to keep swallowing, and swallowing.  You suppose you should’ve expected this from a fully grown man who lived a life of celibacy, but what would typically be a rather short moment with anyone else subsequently goes on long enough to where Obi-Wan is actually able to lazily raise his head up from the mattress and simply watch you continue to swallow his load, dazed and reverent in his stare, glassy blue eyes trained on the hypnotic movements your jaw and throat make around him.  The remaining traces of whatever visual he attempted to maintain immediately flicker out of existence, replaced instead by the sight of your mouth around his cock, diligently taking down each rope of cum he gives you.

When he finally stops throbbing, you reluctantly let his cock fall from your mouth and slowly stand up as the botched projection fizzles out completely.  His gaze eventually follows the movement like he’s on a five second delay.

“So, uh…”  Your voice is hoarse.  “We… need to have sex.”

“Alright,” he agrees dreamily, his eyes lazily dragging down your body.  “Alright, we can have… I… Wait, what?”

“You, uh.  I know it wasn’t intentional, but you might’ve, uh…”  You  shuffle awkwardly from side to side, wondering why you’ve chosen now of all moments to become shy with him.  You’re literally still savoring the taste of his release in your mouth.  “You might’ve accidentally projected a very specific thought towards the end there and let everyone know that we weren’t actually doing what we’re technically supposed to be doing.”

“What did… what did I think?”  The question would likely be nonsense in literally any other situation, but you understand.  And truthfully, for the life of you, you can’t find it within yourself to feel even a little bit mad about it, not when it means you can continue doing this together.  You can’t even conjure up a single shred of disappointment in his failure, it’d just be a lie.

“Doesn’t matter,” you assure him, your heart continuing to pound.  You know you should make your next move now while he’s still so loopy, the post-orgasm bliss causing his signature to vibrate with pulsing endorphins as he blinks up at you slowly from the bed.  “Though we won’t be able to do it for a little bit, just uh.  Just for general… anatomical reasons.  But that should’ve at least counted for… initiating the Ritual, so I don’t think we have to worry about time anymore.”

Obi-Wan just stares at you, his Force signature feeling more serene and spaced out than you’ve ever sensed before.  Oh Maker, how you wish you felt the same.  You swallow thickly, still tasting his hard orgasm on your tongue, and then try not to clamp your thighs together with how embarrassingly turned on you are.  Anyone with any experience whatsoever would know exactly what you’re going through with just a mere glance—you’re biting your lip with your entire body is subtly crumpled in towards your swollen, neglected pussy—and your Master has been watching you struggle through it this entire time.

“Are you alright?”  He asks dumbly, finally managing to at least push himself upright, still completely unaware or unconcerned at his softening cock on full display for you and your starving libido.  “You’re… shaking.”

“I—won’t die,” is the only serious assurance you can make to both him and yourself right now that’ll ease your suffering the smallest bit.  The last thing you want right now is to come on too strong and snap him back to his senses, bringing everything back to square one.  “Just, uh… r-really worked—worked up.  Trying to just.  C-Cool it?”

Your fingers flex at your sides because no matter what you try, you just can’t stop thinking about his.  They’re right there.  They’re so close, so strong and thick and—

“Aren’t you…”  He trails off, letting his head tilt and then drop to his shoulder with a combination of confusion and exhaustion.  “Aren’t you going to…?”

“To what?”  You prompt shortly, your hands suddenly clenching into fists to deal with another violent wave of arousal at how unbelievably drunk he still looks.  Maker, you did that.  That’s all you.

“s’Zerthia said all—” Obi-Wan murmurs, blinking long lashes lazily up at you, “—all Jedi must… participate.”

Fuck. Just hearing him provide you an excuse to give into the boiling arousal causes you to suddenly break out into a sweat.  You don’t know if he wants you to get yourself off or if he’s indirectly implying he wants to help, but you’re so far beyond desperate that you jump at the chance as soon as he so much as hints at the opportunity.

Very slowly, you move forward and lift one trembling knee to brace next to his thigh on the mattress, and then carefully swing your other leg over his lap, lowering yourself into a straddle in the same exact position he attempted to project earlier.  You’re so unbelievably cautious about his cock, making sure you don’t accidentally touch it and jolt him awake.  Instead of your newfound proximity scaring him away like you feared though, he stays so… docile.  Still so relaxed from his very first orgasm that he even rests his large palms over the thin fabric covering your thighs, letting the loose silk drape and fold over his hands as he drags them up and down.

His eyes follow your trembling fingers as you work at the knot tying the material around your body, your cunt throbbing between your legs at how he’s just… staring.  His eyelids are dipped slightly, breathing so calm and slouched under you, pliant and waiting.

The thin fabric slowly parts only enough to reveal the valley between your bare chest to him, and you watch his eyes fall down the thin strip of skin and catch on the dark line of your panties riding low on your hips.  Maker, you can’t help but remember his terror at even glimpsing the two acolytes taking off their robes earlier—the way his eyes bounced around and how his cheeks lost whatever color they had left to them as soon as he finally made himself look.  Now, though.  Now he can’t seem to drag his eyes away from the soft flesh of your tummy, the way your nipples are still covered by the thin fabric of your slightly parted robe but are impossible to miss while your breasts subtly move with your breathing.

You gently call one of his wrists to your hand with the Force and Obi-Wan is either mentally or physically too weak to resist your will.  He allows you to catch his hand and slowly lead it downwards with both of your smaller ones to the part of your body that’s longed for his attention for years, though now it’s absolutely weeping for it.

You don’t want to scare him.  You don’t want to scare him.  Oh Maker, you need him to be brave for you right now, or at least just continue to be stupefied.  You can work with stupefied, but you cannot work with panic, especially when you feel your own wanting to rise up the more you drag this out.

When the tips of his fingers brush against the waistband of your panties, Obi-Wan’s hand pushes under it without your guidance.

You’re throbbing.  It’s been years in the making.  Unable to stop the way your thighs contract and you lift your hips against his palm as it steadily curves down the slope of your soft curls, the sight of the finish line so within reach makes you reckless and too quick.  You can’t help it.  When he gets hesitant and eventually slows down to a halt right above your slit, you don’t even think before you’re suddenly giving his wrist an abrupt shove with the Force, pulling his hand down before he’s ready and forcing his middle finger deep through the soaking cleft of your pussy.

Your shameless moan of his name comes out sounding so grateful—you pour everything you have into it and sag into Obi-Wan’s chest at the feeling, but he startles and all but rips his hand out of your underwear before you can stop him.  He was a hair’s breadth from touching your clit and the denial of it—the sudden turnaround from your goal is just so massively overwhelming that tears suddenly spring to your eyes.

You can just barely make out the sight of him staring down at his trembling hand between the two of you, your slick shining wet and hot along the length of his finger. 

“Stars,” he rasps, blinking his wide, sapphire gaze up to yours—and then he quite suddenly looks alarmed.  “Did I—Did I hurt you?”  Obi-Wan gasps, his energy beginning to outright seize with distress while you blink rapidly and try not to crumble on his lap.

“No—I’m sorry, it’s just—I’m just… oh, fuck, I n-need it,” you stammer.  “Oh fuck, I need it Master, I’m so sorry—I’m trying to be calm but—”

“What is it, little dove?”  He urges, reaching his hand up to your face and flicking his eyes back and forth between yours, sounding almost as panicked as you do from your desperation.  “What do you need?”

“Oh stars, Obi-Wan, I need you to just—” You can’t fit anything into words, a tear finally making its way down your cheek when you clamp your eyes shut in frustration.  You just need him to understand, to give you what you’ve been craving for so long—but when you blink your eyes back open, his troubled expression has suddenly resolved itself.

Your Master’s hands immediately grab tight to your hips and twist you around, easily tossing you back up onto the mattress.  The jostle of bouncing back into the soft fur startles you, but not nearly as much as when he climbs over your body and braces an elbow next to your head, gently placing the tips of his fingers to your temple.

He pushes carefully but firmly against your natural mental barriers, flexing the energy shields inwards gently enough to not hurt you but with enough force to let you know he’s entirely capable of breaking through should you refuse to let him in.

So you do.  You let him in without a single thought, never mind a second one.  Obi-Wan gasps as your shields all but collapse for him that easily, and then he’s finally breaching the surface of your thoughts.

“Oh—Maker above, little one,” he grits almost immediately, his forehead dropping to your shoulder and his other hand wrapping tight around your arm as he struggles to acclimate to the blinding distress you’re experiencing.  “Collect—” he groans as your cunt clamps down at the rasp of his broken voice, “—collect yourself.  I can’t—can’t think—”

Oh, no, it’s too much.  It’s way too much, even just having him inside your head without being able to read him in return—it’s too much for you.  You start hyperventilating and instead of wanting him out, you just want to drown out the sensation of everything else.  The endlessly pulsing, aching throb between your legs that you’ve been dealing with for so long, the way you can feel his cock dragging against your tummy from this angle and how much you already want it in your mouth again, the way your nipples are so hard right now that even this soft fabric feels so rough and sharp against—

Your robe suddenly rips itself off your chest, and you whimper up at the ceiling as you dig your fingers into thick fur and writhe under him, almost completely naked and just desperate for him to do something, to at least just use his hands or his mouth to make you feel bet—

Obi-Wan’s head drops and his blazing mouth opens hot around your nipple, his tongue rolling soft and slick up under the hard bud.

You choke out the first part of his name and you barely even have a flicker of a thought—a brief flash of a rabid, baser desire you’re not even able to consciously recognize before you feel his jaw opening and his teeth closing gently around it, biting down just hard enough to make you spasm bright and urgent between your legs.  “Oh, fuck—”

As soon as you feel the pleasure and twisting ache spark deep in your core, Obi-Wan flutters his eyes shut and wedges his hand back into your panties, humming low in his throat when your legs jerk apart for him.

This time, your clit is the very first thing he touches.

He zeroes in on it.  The tip of his finger starts to rub it exactly how you’d do it to yourself, exactly the right angle and speed and pressure that your body suddenly feels massively overheated and dizzy from it.  It blindsides you.  It makes sense he’d be able to do this, after all, but for some reason, the whole thing just absolutely blindsides you.

“Maker,” you whimper at the ceiling, soft and pitched high in your throat, eyes rolling back when Obi-Wan gently bites down on your nipple again and continues to work to relieve you even as every muscle in your body feels like it’s tightening up.

“Stars—” he whispers when he pulls away, “This—this feels incredible, Padawan.”

You moan and roll your hips against his hand, on cloud nine at just how he’s slowly allowing himself to become filthier with you, to lower himself in all his righteous beliefs and descend into delicious sin with you, and—

—wait, did he just…?

Your cunt clamps down hard with realization as he continues massaging your clit better than you’ve ever even done it yourself.  Maker, it shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does, hearing that word in this context.  Padawan.  Padawan, holding her legs open while her Master explores her pussy.  Padawan, moaning desperately as her orgasm buzzes deep down inside with a rising, threatening resonance.  Padawan, Padawan, Padawan—

“Oh, you liked that,” Obi-Wan remarks tightly, taking a second to tug on your clit.  You nearly start to cry again, your insides pulling up and going rigid at the sensation.  “I heard it, little one.  You like it when I call you that?”

“Oh I like it when you do f-fucking anything,” you choke out helplessly, your words starting to slur together.  “Oh fuck, you’re so amazing, you’re so good at everything, you’re the best Jedi in the whole entire galaxy Master, you’re so much better th—”

“My, you’re agreeable like this, aren’t you?”  Obi-Wan grits, his touches growing stronger and quicker and rocketing you straight to the edge of madness.  “Shall I take that to heart, my darling little Padawan?  Or did you say such flattering things to the oth—”

“Wait!”  You suddenly exclaim, desperately trying to push his hands away.  “Oh, nonononono—wait, wait, wait, I—I-I’m about to cum—I need to—”

His hand yanks itself out of your underwear once more and you take giant, gasping breaths and try to compose yourself at least somewhat, but then your Master is quickly scrambling down your body and using the Force to rip your panties down your hips—

“Obi-Wan, wait—” you choke out, “that isn’t—you don’t… h-have to…”

He looks up at you, dark brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’ll be able to—y-you don’t—”  You have to take a few gasping breaths and remember how to speak Basic.  “I used my mouth on you before because I… I wanted to.  If—If you don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.  It’s not… oh fucking stars above, it’s not n-necessary.”

“Are you telling me this because you don’t want me to?”  He immediately asks, though you both already clearly know the answer to that considering how exposed your wild thoughts are to him right now.

“Ah, no I, uh… I just.”  You try to clear the thickness from your throat and you feel your body tremble while you focus as much effort as possible into trying to explain.  “I just want to be sure I’m not taking advantage of you, that’s all, I—I want you to know the truth about these things.  It’s not… necessary, b-but.”

“But.”  He repeats the word meaningfully as he glances back down at your weeping cunt, nodding slowly to himself.

And then your Master leans in, flutters his eyes shut, and slides his warm tongue deep into the seam of your pussy with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever.

“Obi—Wan—!?”  You gasp, somewhere between a squeak and a squeal, your entire upper body launching upwards around his head as your clit is immediately enveloped into a slick, dexterous furnace.

Hold still, you hear his voice warn through the Force, sounding so much closer than you’ve ever heard him before.  Whether that can be attributed to the fact that the command came directly from wherever he is inside your head or whether it’s simply because his tongue is now tracing gentle circles around your clit as you whimper pitifully into the quiet of the dimly lit room, you’re not sure.  All you know is that his mouth feels like velvet between your legs and his beard is scraping across your thighs and your fingers have buried themselves in his hair without your conscious permission.

Hold still, young one, he urges once more, but you just close your eyes and moan shamelessly at it this time, opening your legs wider for him.  His voice, it’s… it’s maddening like this, coming directly from your own thoughts.  Deep, precise, somehow sounding so true, so much clearer and full-bodied without your pesky ears in the way.  Your hips are subconsciously rolling slowly against the lower half of his face when Obi-Wan apparently decides he’s had enough.

An invisible energy wraps around each of your individual limbs and snaps them against the mattress without any warning.  You whimper high in your throat, arms and legs held so firmly against the bed with the Force that your internal struggles aren’t able to be translated outwardly; he doesn’t allow your body a single centimeter to move under him, no matter how hard you fight it.  Which means you have to lay there and just take the way Obi-Wan’s hot mouth continues to lick and kiss at your clit slowly, taking all the time in the universe to properly explore you between the legs he’s forced apart.

“Obi—” you croak breathlessly at the ceiling, feeling a familiar heat start to burn hot and tight through your core, “Obi, I—I have to p-project—before I—ah!—before you—before you ma-make me cu—ugh, f-fuck—I have t-to—”

Then project, he encourages simply, gently fluttering his tongue over your clit.  You gasp and he hums, murmuring through the Force once more to you.  We’re not hiding anymore.  They’ll all know I’m using my mouth on you like this.  It’s alright.  Let them know.

You realize you’re going to cum the second you hear your Master’s voice say the words using my mouth on you like this while he slowly sucks on your clit, and you barely have enough wherewithal to gulp in a giant breath and begin projecting your signature as far across the palace and surrounding city as physically possible before your body shatters hot into searing euphoria under him.

Obi-Wan groans deep in his throat and holds you perfectly still under him as you cum with a ragged, hoarse wail of his name, giant waves of white hot bliss beginning to radiate through the Force from you with spectacular power.  The contractions are so much more pronounced when it’s one of the only sets of muscles in your body he’s granted permission to move.  It’s like everything is concentrated and multiplied there because of it.  You can feel each individual spasm your floor muscles make as they convulse against his tongue, how each blazing shot of ecstasy that shatters through your body wrings more and more wetness from your cunt into your Master’s mouth.

Never.  Ever ever ever.  Has anyone done something so mind blowingly sexy to you.  Nobody.  Ever.  He’s a virgin, you frantically remember as Obi-Wan purrs softly into the folds of your pussy while it cums all over him.

Your thoughts, young one, you can just barely make out his voice remind you gently, just as gently as he sucks on your clit through the aftershocks, somehow sounding even more aroused than he did before.

After allowing your projection to flicker out of existence with a putter, you’re completely dazed.  Incapable of moving regardless of the way he keeps you pinned with the Force long after he pulls away, slowly moves back up your body and waits while you work to regain your bearings.  You don’t even want to open your eyes right now, knowing he’s looking down at your peaceful expression while you work to catch your breath.  You’re too stupid with pleasure you almost don’t even process the soft touch of something against your lips.

You’re lovely.

The thought is so quiet you don’t even recognize it isn’t your own.  Not until he keeps pressing his lips to yours so sweetly, not knowing to do anything else when your mind is too fractured with ecstasy to unconsciously act as his compass like before.  Everything is innocent and gentle and not reminiscent of the fact that the robes you’re both wearing are wide open and your mouths tasted of each other even before he kissed you.

Instead of melting into the soft touches, though, they just start to burn you alive, the thick fog of your orgasm clearing more and more with each gentle press of his lips and your need for him steadily growing.  He’s kissing you.  Master Kenobi is kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds at a time before pulling away, pausing to look at your face each time to make sure your eyes are still closed, before leaning down and carefully pressing his lips to yours again.

The only part you can’t stand is that he won’t even let you move your jaw to kiss him back.

Kiss me, Obi-Wan, you urge desperately through the Force, not wanting to interrupt to speak.

“I am, little one,” he replies between kisses, and the sincerity in his tone tells you he’s not purposefully teasing you.  No, this is him kissing you, genuinely, the only way he knows how to.

Let me— you start to struggle in earnest against his hold on you, —please, let me—

The warm breath from his nose puffs softly against your cheek with a quiet little sound from far back in his throat, and then you suddenly gain the ability to move from the neck up.

You immediately part his lips with yours and Obi-Wan pulls back just the slightest bit in response, but your neck lifts up to compensate as you lick deep into his warm mouth.  He gasps at the foreign sensation and loses his concentration for a split second, enough for you to break free of it completely.  Your hands quickly fly up to cradle his face as soon as they can move and your fingers hook around the thick beard blanketing his sharp jawline, urging him back down into you.

Your legs come up to wrap around his lower back and he sags against your strong will with a needy groan, dropping down closer and obediently keeping his mouth open for you to taste.  As soon as he presses his body into yours, his cock strains and drags against your lower stomach, already throbbing hot and leaking precum along the soft hills of your skin.

Maker, you want it but somehow you… you don’t.  You just want to savor tonight as long as you physically can, keep holding him and kissing him like this for another few hours at least before you try to take his cock, but he’s unintentionally grinding it against you while his tongue shyly dances with yours, needy and already raring to go in his own timid way.

Do you want it, Master?  You finally murmur to him, running your fingers through his hair and gently biting his bottom lip, scooting your hips up to let him rub himself against something better than your tummy.  You feel… ready.

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head.  Your feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, and Obi-Wan finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck.

“Yes, I—” he moans into you skin, “Oh stars, I want it.”

With a gentle wave of your hand, you use the Force to drop his hips down to the proper angle and tilt the head of his cock to line him up perfectly.

And now this is the part you don’t want to rush.  This is when you take Obi-Wan Kenobi’s virginity.  You’ll savor just being able to remember this for the rest of your fucking life.  You’ll see him in Council meetings years from now and be reminded that you’re the only person in the galaxy to know the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room.  You’re the only one who will know that sound, that sound is yours, that sound belongs to—

“Padawan,” he grits, hips stuttering into you while you wrap your arms around his shoulders, “your thoughts—”

You groan up at the ceiling and your pussy tightens at the reminder that he can still hear you, but your body is just too bold and desperate for it.  Your thoughts begin to flare bright, growing more possessive by the second, and you can’t even wait for him this time.  Every single muscle in Obi-Wan’s body goes rigid when you tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow.

It stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you as Obi-Wan instinctively tries to lift off you and away from it, but you’re clinging too tightly to him.  Your whole body hovers off the mattress to stay with him. 

“You said—” he gasps, “—it wouldn’t h-hurt—oh—”

“It doesn’t,” you groan, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you.  “Oh, Maker, it feels so fucking good, Obi—feel it—”

His elbows shake where they’re locked and braced against the mattress but he drops his head and holds strong like this while you work your muscles to take him as far as you can from this shameful angle.  Your body feels like it’s on fire while you desperately cling to him and the length of your robe brushes against the mattress while you just keep trying to get him deeper inside you—

Suddenly something grabs hard at your hips and tries shoves you downwards and off his cock, but you want it too badly.  You summon the hidden strength of your energy and then channel it into your legs where they’re hooked around the curve of his lower back.

Obi-Wan chokes at the unexpected resistance and his elbows buckle, dropping you both down to his forearms with a jolt, but you’re too busy mentally clashing with each other for it.  The result is… well, it’s maddening.

Every time your pussy is able to swallow him more than halfway, you pull back and let his energy shove you down his length—but then dig back in right before you drop completely and use the Force to bend your legs and fight the uphill battle to his cock once more.  Your Master gasps, beads of sweat gathering at his temples while you fight him with every ragged breath in your body to keep fucking him.

Except—he’s the fighter.  And you should’ve known.

You’re no match for the sudden blast of energy from him, easily hinging your legs apart from around his back and then ripping you down off his cock with a wet sound, bouncing back down into the mattress once more.

In order to stop the desperate tears of defeat from coming to your eyes, you immediately clamp them shut and twist your face away from Obi-Wan’s, but he makes a low growl and uses the same ferocious royal blue energy to keep your knees pinned open and wide against the bed. 

And then drops his hips and rocks back into you, giving you those last few precious inches of his thickness you weren’t able to get at before.  It hits sharp nirvana up inside you with his thighs pressed tight to your hips like this.  His name rips itself from your throat while Obi-Wan clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed with the Force while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. 

He’s so gifted, so strong in the Force, he’s able to use your mind as his anchor and give you pleasure beyond anything you’ve ever experienced.  And in return, you want to do the same to him.  You want to read his thoughts, instantly be able to give him everything he never knew he needed—

“You do,” your Master chokes out, “darling, you already—”

Everything inside you surges up at the admission, aching that much harder to hear him, to hear everything the way he can hear you.  The tips of your fingers find his temple, slick with sweat, and you press just hard enough to tell him your intent.

“Let me in,” you whisper, wicked arousal swirling tight in your lower muscles as they start to bear down on his cock.

“I—I can’t—” Obi-Wan gasps breathlessly, “I can’t—”

“Open—open the door, Master,” you beg, “please, open th—”

“Fuck,” he cuts you off, his voice rising in pitch while his his hips snap just a little harder against yours and his rhythm falters, “—It’s too good, Padaw—I’m going t-to—stars, are you—are you r-ready?”

Some terrifying, swirling darkness manifests itself deep in your thoughts.  It rises up, part of the desperate, hidden subconscious that you’re typically capable of stifling.  No, it says, don’t let this be over.  Not yet.  You don’t want to go to sleep alone, wake up and remember you’ll never have this again.  You need there to be a next time, and a time after it.

You try your hardest to push the longing downwards when you recognize it, but your Master is too quick, too talented to deceive when he’s this close to you.  He easily plucks it from your mind and expands it, enlarges the chaotic string of thoughts until you feel them pulsing at the edges of your consciousness.

And then Obi-Wan sees it all, immediately playing out in your memories as you helplessly watch on.  Every desire you buried for him unearthed, every whimper you stifled with the back of your hand when you touched yourself at night and thought of him amplified.  The years of repression, the blind hope that simply ignoring it would make it go away.  How hard you worked to deaden the burst of affection that radiated through the Force when you finally saw him after two years apart.  The circumstances behind the night you lost your virginity—not a long time ago, as he suggested before, but only just last year.  So desperate in your loneliness and longing for his presence that you began routinely sneaking around and fucking other Knights—Guardians with blue sabers whose souls were just marginally close enough to Obi-Wan’s, and you thought of him the whole time.  Every time.

But, perhaps, worst of all.  The… fantasies.

He sees himself dropping to his knees and congratulating you for passing your trials by burying his tongue inside your warmth and telling you how proud of you he is.  He sees you opening his trousers and slowly licking his cock while he meditates, trying to get him to break his concentration.  He watches the two of you fucking in every conceivable position, how incredibly ready you always are to take him when he needs it.  Most importantly, he recognizes your inherent, blazing desire to drag this out as long as physically possible, to permanently brand every moment in your memory to get you through his impending absence.

And then… then Obi-Wan does something unexpected.  Something incredibly uncharacteristic.

You watch as he morphs the fantasies right before your eyes.  He's still on his knees with his head between your legs, but now he’s telling you how proud he is of you for negotiating the mysterious, confidential deal that ended the Clone Wars.  You’re licking his cock as the ship autopilots itself through the week-long journey back to Coruscant from s’Ziscari, letting him slowly cum in your mouth as he sprawls lazily in the captain’s chair.  He’s taking you against the wall of your quarters after a mindless and dull Council meeting; you’re riding him quietly in his bed after lights-out at the temple; he’s rubbing your clit while he sits behind you and advises you on matters concerning your own Padawan you’ll be choosing sometime soon, two fingers deep and squeezing a bared nipple when he whispers in your ear how much he absolutely adores you.

Thoughts that aren’t your own begin to fill the empty spaces of your mind, a lovely pale blue tenor to harmonize gorgeously with the soft green alto of your own consciousness.  The resulting color of your combined energies fills your soul with Light, a stunning turquoise of a color you’ve never loved more, one you wish you could live in for the rest of your life.

For every debased thought of yours he sees, he shows you one even more revealing.  The way he used to dream of you at night, especially after a close battle where many Jedi and Clones fell, and then he’d wake up in a cold sweat with an erection pulsing feverish and so terribly shameful between his legs.  How he tried to shove a pillow down there once to somehow relieve himself of the aching hardness, and then had to rip it away and launch it across the room with the Force when he realized he’d been dragging himself against it and thinking of you.

“I’m gonna—cum—” your voice scrapes across your throat, and you can already sense him throwing his beautiful consciousness out like a net.  You match him with what little mental strength you have remaining, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your ankles around his lower back and pulling him down into you.

Obi-Wan’s energy keeps swirling a brilliant aquamarine with yours, presenting his every subconscious thought to you, one right after another, so quick you can barely keep up.  How he’ll always be with you, no matter what.  How the Maker himself won’t be able to drag him away from you now.  How quiet jealousy still tugs at his heart just thinking about the fact that you broke your oath—before you both could do it together.

Everything swells up inside you and you scream when it finally crashes over, your blended signatures sealing themselves together permanently and then detonating in a debilitating shockwave that ripples the air around you.  You’re blinded and deafened by its vivid energy, powerful and dazzling every shade between blue and green and Light and Dark, all balanced perfectly together.

You lay there in the gentle afterglow afterwards and feel your pussy still clamping tight to him, pulsing in random intervals while Obi-Wan slouches into you and every muscle in his body trembles with the comedown.  Everything is right.  Everything in you sparkles.

“Stars, Obi,” you start chuckling up at the ceiling, the sheer joy overwhelming you and bringing tears to your eyes.  “Stars, did we just—”

“We just won the Clone Wars, my dear,” he slurs into the crook of your neck while his cock still throbs inside you, and you can feel the exhaustion creeping up his spine, every single thought in his mind completely dead at the moment.

“How long do you… do you think it’ll take before it’s over?”  You ask quietly, brushing your fingers through his hair.  Obi-Wan groans and buries his face deeper into your neck.

“Few months, maybe.  Time for s’Ziscari…”

He stays like that for just a second, and you press your nose to him and breathe him in, marveling at how utterly gorgeous his signature is right now.  Clear blue with the lightest touch of teal, rippling like quiet water in a crystal calm riverbed.

Lovely.

You keep softly playing with the hair at his nape, and then quickly wrap your arms around him when he goes to try to brace his forearms next to your shoulders and lift up just the slightest bit.

“Wait, don’t—it’s—”  You bite your lip and feel him sink back down into your body without another word, clearly having only attempted it for appearances.  “This is good, let’s just… stay for a second.” 

He doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even move, and—a few months, you think.  A few months of his absence, of wondering where he is but never being able to ask.  It burdens your heart, but you understand it’s necessary.

The Council may… grant me a position with a more permanent location after this mission, he responds quietly to your dip in the Force after a moment, too tired to even talk anymore and exhaustion weaving his every thought.  On Coruscant.

Your heart pangs with sudden hope, and you know he can feel it.  “They would do that?”

I could ask to oversee the s’Ziscari’s assimilation into our ranks, he offers alongside a stifled yawn into your collarbone.

He’d… request that?  To be closer to you?  But why?

He doesn’t hesitate before offering the words to you simply, not even considering them before they’re the only thought in his mind.  Because I care for you more than there are stars in the sky.  I always have.

Lovely.

No, no, not even, that’s just.  Love.  By itself.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan murmurs softly into your neck, and your soul feels like it grows wings.

You both lay there in silence for a long time after that, and it takes you even longer to realize he hasn’t succumbed to sleep yet, even as the aching fatigue weighs heavy on his back.  He’s resisting it, keeping his eyes purposefully open against your neck while yours are blissfully shut.

“Master,” you eventually whisper up at the ceiling, and his cock twitches inside you.  Oh stars, you’ll have to remember that.  “Go to sleep.”

I have one more confession.  The thoughts are slurred and distorted, barely conscious as he desperately tries to outlast the sleep trying to pull him under.  I didn’t even want to mention it before because I didn’t know how this was all going to go, but…  He blinks slowly against your neck even as his eyes droop, only just a few seconds from passing out with exertion.  The Sh’inzith lasts six days, dove.

Your eyes pop open in shock just as his finally fall shut, and Obi-Wan stops fighting.

#WE OUT HERE #obi-wan kenobi x you #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi-wan X reader #obi-wan x you #smut #fanfic #no-droids

[jungkookiebus]

Grain of Sand | jjk

Genre: smut x fluff x established relationship x slice of life Pairing: blind!jjk x reader Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: cunnilingus, (light) ass play, fingering, jungkook fucks you against the kitchen sink so i guess that can be a warning, creampie Summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

Bright, warm sunshine filled the hallway of your home from the windows that lined the wall. It was one of the reasons you picked this house. You imagined hanging pictures up on the wall for the morning sun to rise upon and, at night, you could still easily see them in the light of the moon. And that’s exactly what you did when you moved in two years ago. Jungkook walked ahead of you, fingers delicately skimming the wall right beneath the pictures. The wall there looked more worn than the rest, a little oily sheen to it from his fingertips. Walls all over your home had these trails. They were like highways for him, directing him to the living room, kitchen, and every room in between. Sometimes, like now, you’d run your fingers along his path lovingly, grazing your fingers underneath your wedding photo.

“What would you like for breakfast?” he asked, and you saw as he tilted his head a little, knowing you were following quietly behind him.

You hummed in thought. You never really were that hungry as soon as you woke up, but the smell of breakfast always made your stomach growl.

“What about…eggs and bacon?”

“Toast?”

“Oh, yes, Taehyung gave us some fresh strawberry jam he made.”

He hummed in a content agreement, turning the corner ahead of you, two fingers brushing the dull edge as he continued down the hallway. The light overhead was still off, and the early morning sun had yet to reach this part of the house, but Jungkook moved by memory and his worn wall path before moving into the kitchen. As he walked into the room, you reached for the light switch and flicked it on.

“What would you like me to do?” you asked. You leaned against the counter as you watched his hands skim the cabinets, and you knew he was counting in his head, until he got to the one he wanted. He pulled out a pan as his other hand reached for the stove, hand finding the burner, before moving it to sit the pan down.

“Uh, if you want to grab the ingredients, that will help.”

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

Jungkook laughed as he reached for the oil that sat by the stove.

“I should be calling you pet names.”

“You do all the time and you’re just too cute not to.”

Opening the refrigerator, you pulled out the necessary amount of eggs and bacon as not to cause confusion with a clutter of items.

Jungkook lost his sight at the ripe, but terrible age of 18. Retinitis pigmentosa was the cause of his progressive vision loss. Around 10, he started showing signs when he complained about not being able to see outside when he played later in the afternoon, even when the sun was still bright on the horizon. His parents’ worst fears were confirmed with his diagnosis and the heartache of explaining to their son that he would lose his vision completely was devastating. But Jungkook proved strong and focused on studying Braille and doing whatever he could to prepare himself. Over the years, his vision worsened, he didn’t get to get his driver’s license with his friends, and he missed out on many things, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing his passion in music. He felt a connection when he made music because without his vision, it made him that much more acute in his studies. You met Jungkook in college, both music majors, and the reason you had met was because he had accidentally thwacked you with his white cane.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” he had said reaching in your direction.

You had laughed and at first his face was set into a confused expression until you spoke.

“Oh, that little thing couldn’t even leave a mark if you had done it intentionally.”

His face screwed up as he tried to hold in a laugh but was unable to do so at your incessant giggling. When you spoke again was when he thinks he fell in love with you, but there were too many moments to count for him.

You nudged the end of his completely white cane with your foot, no red or other markings. “Completely blind, huh?”

You hadn’t said it with any disdain or judgement; you had said it as if you were just having curious, casual conversation. Most of the time Jungkook felt as if his blindness made him invisible to people as if it were some curse to have and if they accidentally came close to him, they’d hurt him or themselves. Of course, he had his close friends and family that didn’t even remember he was blind half the time, but society always kind of sucked that way.

But you, you were the first girl he had ever met that so blatantly astonished him within the first few minutes and his heart flipped in his chest. He didn’t even need to see you to know that you were perfect, and he would end up with you one day. And, sure enough, five years later you were married and looking for a new home.

“How does this one sound?” you asked one night over your tub of chocolate ice cream.

You both sat at your small kitchen table in your small apartment. Jungkook had one headphone in listening to an audiobook, head resting in his hand as his other played absently on yours. You were scrolling through houses on your phone, trying to find the both of you the perfect one. Jungkook hit pause on his book and looked in your direction. Despite his blindness, nothing about his eyes had really changed; they were still a beautiful brown and they were your favorite to see in the evening light, sunset set his eyes aflame.

“Babe, as long as the layout is easy to memorize and it’s what you want, it’s perfect for me.”

“I love you,��� you whispered. Tears filled your eyes at the content look on his face, a slight smile played on his lips. You were truly happy with him, sharing every moment together, and to the fullest, but parts of you did feel sad that he couldn’t see it.

“My god,” he whispered somewhat dramatically and suddenly your tears became a small laugh because you knew where this was going. “If your love were a grain of sand…”

“Mine would be a universe of beaches,” you whispered back.

Now, here you were, in your home with its innocuous fingertip paths lining your walls in an intimate artwork that was priceless to you.  

With your back to the counter you leaned and watched as he moved. You only offered help occasionally and when he asked for it, but you were content to watch. His hands always moved lithely, so smooth, as he reached for objects. He cracked the eggs easily into the hot pan as he began to hum. He’d sometimes hum, sometimes sing, but he’d always choose a song about the same length each time and that was how he timed his cooking. The bacon popped loudly.

“Oops, fire’s too high.” He turned the knob to lower the flame before carefully putting his hand back on the handle of his pan. He picked his song up a few seconds after where he left off. The eggs were frying perfectly in the pan, not that you expected any less.

You pushed away from the counter to start grabbing plates as he neared the end of his song. Before long, he had both plates perfectly set with eggs and bacon as you carried the toast to the table. You buttered and spread the strawberry jam on two pieces, dropping one on his plate as you brought them over. He followed behind you, hand on your waist lightly before sitting down at the table.

“What are we gonna do today?” you asked as you bit into the toast. “Holy shit Taehyung knows what he’s doing with this stuff.”

His smile was bright as he cut into his eggs. “What do you feel like doing?”

The sun was now up over the horizon, spilling into the windows and across your kitchen. You had hung various glass artwork throughout the house and right now the stained glass flower you had hung above the kitchen sink cast an array of colors into the room. Jungkook looked like moving artwork across from you. The colors shifted and changed as he moved, leaning back in his chair then forward again, elbow on the table, moving for a napkin, and each time he did splashes of red, green, blue, and yellow painted his skin.

You hadn’t realized you had fallen silent until Jungkook cleared his throat. “Babe?”

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“The stained glass is casting a lot of pretty colors on you right now and I got distracted.”

“I bet it looks wonderful.”

He smiled softly as he reached for his glass of milk.

“Describe it to me?” He pushed his plate to the middle of the table as he finished. Placing his head in his hands, he looked in your direction, his eyes averted just down from your eyes and somewhere near the apples of your cheeks. Even if he rarely ever made eye contact, your soft voice always lulled him in and pointed him in the right direction.

“Remember when we’d get those cheap plastic kaleidoscopes as kids?” You pulled his plate towards you and stacked it on your own.

He laughed softly at the memory. “I used to think they were so cool, but the pieces inside were just as cheap as the outside.”

“Well think of that…just prettier.” His smile grew wider as his eyes closed and you knew he was thinking back on a memory. Probably a summer day down by the shore, the salty sea air, and the sun on his face. His mom is with him and everything is so bright. He sees the water and the way it stretches to the horizon, but in his peripheral it’s a little darker. For now, he’ll enjoy the waves.

You stood up and took the plates to the sink and began pulling the pots off the stove and putting them under the water with the rest. The sun still shone through the stained glass in front of you. You got lost in thought, hand still under the water waiting for it to heat up as you stared unblinking and the slightly swaying piece of glass. You jumped when a pair of hands softly caressed your hips.

“Shit,” you whispered. You were snapped out of your daydream and you shakily grabbed the sponge before pouring soap over it.

His lips came down on your neck. “Did I scare you?”

“Yea that was real dickish of you.”

He laughed against your neck as he snaked his arms fully around you and held you close. You began scrubbing at a pan as he hummed lightly, placing yet another kiss to your skin. He inhaled deeply and let his warm breath out slowly.

“You smell good,” he murmured.

“Well, I did take a shower last night….” You put the pan in the drying rack before reaching for another one.

His arms tightened around you and he brought himself a little more flush with your body. He hummed again as he moved his lips along the top of your exposed shoulder.  

“What, pray tell, are you doing?” you asked in a mock accent as your hands dove blindly into the water as you searched for more dishes.

“Kissing you,” he said between small pecks.

“Okay.” You pulled a spoon from the filthy depths of the dish water when Jungkook’s hands moved back to your hips and his fingers dug lightly into them.

“Don’t move,” he whispered before dropping to his knees behind you.

Folding his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, he slowly began to pull them past your hips.

“What are you-“ You tried to turn around but keep your hands over the sink at the same time and you could only swivel so far at the hip.

“Shhh.” He kissed the small of your back and then the swell of your ass as he began to palm your ass cheeks. Slowly, he spread them further and further as he placed kisses along your skin. Your body had gotten whiplash; one second you were washing dishes and the next Jungkook was on his knees behind you. You shook slightly and your internal temperature began to rise. Suddenly, having your hands in the warm water became overbearing. You pulled them out and then clung desperately to a dish towel, but there was no way you were drying your hands right now. You felt his lips again and they were on the underside of your ass this time. You clutched the edge of the sink as you stared into the intricate flower in the glass.

Behind you, Jungkook spread your ass and dipped his head, tongue finding your cunt immediately. He hummed into you and you clenched. He spread them further as he licked at your center before he moved to your ass.

“A-ah,” you stuttered as you leaned more into the counter. His face was buried in your ass eating you out until he almost had your thighs shaking before he moved back to your now embarrassingly wet cunt. His moan was deeper this time as you dripped deliciously onto his tongue. Your mind seemed to exit the room as he shook his head, deepening this lewd kiss. He pushed himself up more on his knees, wanting to get as deep into you as he could. Your cries rose in pitch as your thighs began to shake. Your palms dug into the edges of the counters but all you could think about was him. He moaned the more you clenched, getting closer and closer to the release he wanted to give you. You could barely breathe now, and you were nearly on your tiptoes. All the while, Jungkook had his hands firmly on your thighs now with his face anchoring him to your body. You rocked back into his face and his moans began to pitch now, hands almost kneading at your thighs as he wrapped his hands around the front of them, pulling you harder into his face. Your mind felt as if it were on the brink of shutting down as your whole body began to shake. Every muscle in your stomach tensed as you felt yourself tumbling forward.

Different variations of his name fell from your lips in rapid succession as you crested the hill of your release. You fell over it when a large breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your body shuddered and it felt as if all the blood inside rushed to your cunt. Jungkook was still eating you out as you came on his face, nearly crying into the kitchen sink. His grip on your thighs loosened first and then his tongue slowed. Your body shuddered every now and then from the aftershock. He kissed the underside of your ass again before standing. He pulled you into him again and held you close as you caught your breath. He kissed the side of your neck as his cheek rested against your skin.

“You taste good, too,” he mumbled.

You let out a shaky laugh. He had said it so nonchalantly as if he weren’t on his knees, face nowhere to be seen, just minutes before.

“Now, my kaleidoscope eyes,” he reached for the back of your knee and brought your leg upwards, “I need you to rest this here.”

He had your leg up on the counter comfortably and then he dipped his hand back between them. Your hips jerked involuntarily as he played with your painfully swollen clit. He circled the tips of his fingers on it softly. He kissed your skin delicately, reverently. The sun rose higher in the sky and from behind your eyelids you could see various colors of orange, blue, and red.

“You always describe the world so beautifully to me,” he whispered.

“I-I don’t want you t-to miss out.” You were a mess and he was making you an even bigger mess.

“Your vision of the world is far better than anything I could dream up.”

His fingers pressed a little harder and you wanted to clench around something only to be met with air. You whined a little as his breath picked up against your skin and he rutted into you. You felt his cock through his sweats and your mouth instantly watered. He hummed again as you began to drip on his fingers as he dipped them before pushing inside of you. He let out a shuddering breath as you swallowed his fingers fully, clenching hard around him. He pushed into you again, cock hard against your ass and he leaned into you as you pressed further into the counter.

“Tell me what you want,” he said gruffly as he pumped his fingers inside of you.

Your toes curled against the countertop, knee hitting a mug across the marble surface but neither of you bothered to acknowledge it. Jungkook was rutting into you now and breathing hotly into your ear. His other hand was on your breast kneading it roughly.

“God, Jungkook, just fuck me already.” You were doubled over with him hot on your back. His fingers pumped faster and faster and you were on your tiptoe again. You pushed your hips into him as he gave two more hard thrusts into you before pulling his fingers away.

His hands were only gone for what seemed like seconds before he had one on your hip and the other rubbing his cock between your folds. You moaned as you anticipated him. You didn’t have to wait long before he was sliding inside of you easily. His body was hot against yours and his skin against your ass was even hotter. His hand was at your breast again kneading as his heavy cock slid in and out of you slowly as if he were trying to make this moment last forever.

“What colors do you see now?” he whispered. His voice sounded strained like he was holding back. How were you supposed to concentrate?

You squinted when you were finally able to open your eyes; the sun was higher and brighter in the sky since you last looked. All you could think about was his cock softly nudging against the nerves inside of you, but he wasn’t going fast enough to really stimulate anything. You pushed your hips back into him again, but he didn’t take the bait as he pinched your nipple through your shirt. His other hand was anchoring your leg to the counter so you couldn’t move it from where he placed it. Plentiful soap suds were all over the sink and slowly popping but there was enough for the colors to be cast in a strange refracted way. The angle of the light caused more rainbows to shine from the hundreds of tiny bubbles. You reached out and braced yourself on the windowsill above the sink before you spoke.

“All of t-them. They’re shining on the soap now.” You were no stranger to describing things to Jungkook, but during sex was a new one.

He seemed satisfied as his pace quickened. His lips were on your neck, wet, and travelling upwards until he bit your earlobe between his teeth. Once again, you were pushing your hips into him as much as he’d let you. He was much too strong pushing you against the counter and his hand on your leg limited your movements.

“Jungkook, please.” You were breathless now, travelling up to that peak again but you needed more than this. He didn’t need to ask to hear your underlying question. He pressed against you harder while at the same time quickening his pace. The hand on your breast splayed across your chest before he moved it slowly down your stomach. Your breath caught in your throat as your stomach tightened. He was dipping his fingers between your legs again and pressed two fingers to your clit. Your chest came flush with the edge of the counter now and you felt Jungkook’s cheek on your shoulder blade. You reached for anything to brace yourself after your sweaty palm slid from the windowsill. You knocked soap and various other items down, sending some splashing into the water and others into the empty side of the steel sink. Jungkook ignored the clattering of items as he began to snap his hips harder. The pressure he had on your clit was barely there but enough to have you straining and willing your body to fall, but you just whimpered as you cried into the sink. He controlled your orgasm and all you could do was fall into the delectable pleasure he was giving you because you knew he always delivered. There was no way he was letting you physically walk away from this.  

The room grew hotter the higher the sun climbed as it cast its menagerie of colors onto your face. The ends of your hair gathered the water droplets collected in the sink as your body shifted with each thrust. Without his sight, Jungkook was acutely more aware to other parts of your body. Like the way your cunt would flutter and tighten like a vice the closer you got your orgasm. He could practically feel the muscles in your back tense up as you focused all your attention to the burning in your abdomen. He pressed his fingers a little harder before moving them faster on your clit. The nerve endings inside were lit on fire, sending the hot flames licking in your core and up into your chest as every hair on your body stood on end as your skin flushed with goosebumps. You began to tremble, thighs cramping as you brought yourself fully up on your toes, other leg sweating against the marble counter. Jungkook’s large hand was still firm on the back of your thigh, keeping your leg up on the edge as he fucked into you faster and harder. You were crying loudly now, not holding anything back as he led you towards the end. Your orgasm hit with an explosion of colors behind your eyelids, aided by the stained glass. Jungkook’s fingers abandoned your clit in favor of bringing you more upright to turn your face enough for a searing kiss; his lips skated across your cheek before he found yours and you moaned into his mouth. He still thrust, ready to follow you down the other side and you clenched harder around him almost making it impossible for him to stay inside, but he had his hips hard against yours and into the counter in front of you. He braced himself against your thigh, his other hand on the counter now, and his lips still on yours as he spilled inside of you. Hot cum began to leak immediately around him and onto the floor. Usually you had your closed legs to keep it contained but now he was dripping all over the kitchen floor. Not that you minded. His moans dropped in pitch as he continued to thrust, overwhelmed by the feeling of you and his cum filling you up and then spilling out. With hips stuttering a few more times, he stilled. Without his movements you could now feel the slip of his cum as it came out of you. Slowly, he let go of your thigh and eased it to the floor. You winced as your cramped muscles begged for relief, but he was gentle in his movements, letting you adjust. He kissed your temple and the side of your face while you tried to regain your breath. Your legs felt as if they’d give out at any moment as they wobbled dangerously, but his steadfast grasp around your waist kept you upright.

The early morning sun still climbed in the sky, now out of view of the stained glass. The kitchen was yet again cast in the muted glow as it hid behind the trees, a display of leaves now covered the room in a strange dance. Jungkook was silent behind you, but still holding you close as he waited for your legs to regain their strength. The dishes sat scattered and forgotten in the sink and on the counter. The last of the soap bubbles were popping away and any hint of the colorful display was gone except for the stained glass now hanging somewhat plainly in the window.

He pulled you impossibly closer, face nuzzled into your neck as he hummed a nonsensical tune.

“Thank you,” he whispered. You were silent, knowing he had more to say. “Thank you for bringing color into my world.”

You squeezed his hand that was around your waist. You didn’t have to say much for him to understand, but what he didn’t know was how much he had brought into yours.

“If your love were a grain of sand…” you began.

“Mine,” he said with a whisper and a kiss to your exposed shoulder, “would be a universe of beaches.”

#smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook #blind!jungkook #jungkook x reader #reader insert #established relationship #nonidol!au #slice of life

[adobe-outdesign]

Reviews of All Scrapped Spaceword Betas

Exactly what it says in the title. This is also for my reference, as I might redesign some of these later for funsies. 

I’m only including Pokemon that were 100% scrapped (we’re not here to argue what might have become what) and aren’t evos/pre-evos of existing Pokemon. Also, I’m using the English fan-translations for the names because I don’t speak Japanese.

Flambear/Volbear/Dynabear

Our original fire starter, and yeah, I can see why this was scrapped. For starters (heh), it looks more like a rodent that evolves into a lion than anything resembling a bear. And secondly... it doesn’t really have a clear focus, nor a memorable design. It’s just kind of a rodent-bear thing with flames tacked onto it. 

The best Pokes usually have a "catch” to them, and these guys lack that. For example, this got replaced by Cyndaquil, which has the concept of flaming spikes that form out of its back. That’s memorable. This, well, isn’t.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of focus/interesting design

Pokes to fill the void: Teddiursa and Ursaring are probably the closest in terms of being bears. Something about it also reminds me of Growlithe/Arcanine, probably because it’s a fluffy fire thing that evolves into a bigger fluffy fire thing with a mane and black markings.

Cruz/Aqua/Aquaria

This has the same problem as the Flambear line, just less extreme. It’s okay, being a little plesiosaur that evolves into a bigger plesiosaur, but it also lacks an interesting catch to it. The pearls are maybe something, but they’re not really emphasized, just kind of tacked on. Plus Dragonair kind of has the crystal neck ornaments on lock. And the horn. And the underbelly. And the water theme...

Whoops.

I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to a plesiosaur water starter in the future, but it would probably have to be completely redesigned.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of focus/interesting design; too similar to Dragonair

Pokes to fill the void: Dragonair, as mentioned above. If you want a plesiosaur, Lapras is always a thing.

Putting the rest under the cut for length.

Sunmola1/Anchorage/Grotess

This is one of the most chaotic beta evolutions out there, aside from beta Girafarig. I can see the resemblance between Sunmola1 and Anchorage to some extent--counter-shaded blue fish with two fins and a short body--but the anchor part of the evolution comes out of nowhere. Then it sporadically turns into a gulper eel, which has nothing to do with the previous two evolutions at all.

I’ve heard some people suggest that Sunmola1 basically gets dragged into the depths and turns into a deep-sea creature due to its anchor, which is a fantastic idea. However, if that’s what they were going for here it’s not really clear, and I think it could be executed much better.

Individually, Sumola1 is a little plain. Not terrible, but I think they could do something more interesting with the little head thing. Anchorage is memorable, but there’s something very un-Pokemonish about it. I think it’s just the fact that it’s basically cut in half--I keep expecting the backsprite to show its organs or something. Grotess is also a bit too plain.

It’s also worth noting that at some point, this was the evolutionary line, which is more consistent but much less interesting (save for the middle evo’s eyes, which are pretty great).

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of evolutionary consistency; some designs plain or not very fitting for Pokemon

Pokes to fill the void: Alomomola is a sunfish Pokemon. Sharpedo is a shark crossed with an object, and Grotess almost certainly became Huntail and Gorebyss.

Rinring/Bellboyant

These two... are pretty good. They have a simple catch--black cats with bells--and the designs are nicely executed and memorable.

If I had one complaint, it’s that they maybe seems a tad unfocused in the backend of things. They’re dark types, but have a bunch of “cutesy” moves, and it’s not clear why’d they be dark apart from being black cats. They seem to have a magical girl vibe (Bellboyant looks a bit like Luna from Sailor Moon, which is probably not a coincidence), which also has nothing to do with the bells or the dark theme. I do think that the designs themselves are fine though, and that if you just focused on the sound concept a hair more you’d have a pretty great Pokemon.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Not entirely sure, these definitely would’ve been popular. Might’ve just been a balancing thing, or it lost the dev popularity contest. 

Pokes to fill the void: Skitty kind of has the same vibe as Rinring. They also remind me a bit of the Meowth line, being cat Pokemon with metal attached to them. The Purrloin line takes over the “dark-type cat” aspect.

Bomseel

I’m torn on this one. On the one hand, it’s a very plain looking Pokemon. The idea of it balancing a fireball/bomb on its nose instead of a ball is clever and memorable enough... except that it’s dependent on it being on that pose. It can’t balance that 24/7, and once it stops all you’re left with is a plain sea lion with dark points.

However, it’s fire/water. The only fire/water we have right now is a legendary, so it would be sweet to have one that’s just a regular poke. So it’s not that the concept itself is bad, using a water-based animal and adding a fire type; it’s just more that the execution is lackluster. Give this guy a hook not related to the fireball and make the seal itself more interesting and I think you’d have something here.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of interesting design

Pokes to fill the void: Volcanion is our only fire/water Pokemon for now. In terms of seals/sea lions with a circus theme, Popplio is a decent enough match.

Tigrette/Electiger

Someone at Gamefreak hates tigerballs, because this line was planned for Gen 1, scrapped, then planned for Gen 2 and scrapped again. Which is strange, because while it’s not the best design it’s not bad either. It’s very very cute, and could definitely find an audience.

However, I’m not really sure what the premise is here. If it’s based on tiger clay bells, then it doesn’t really play into the bell theme much at all. And if it’s not... why is it so round? It’s not that the roundness is bad, but it would usually form the hook for this Pokemon, like it collects static electricity in its fur that makes it puff out or something. Maybe some dex descriptions would’ve made this clearer, who knows.

Also, Electiger is literally the exact same design as Tigrette, just bigger. It would either need a completely new final evolution or would need to show up as a single evo. 

While that sounds harsh, I do really like this design. Fix the evo, figure out/build on the hook of it being round or bell like, and maybe refine the markings a touch and it would be pretty perfect.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Not sure. Might’ve been too similar to Pikachu (both being yellow round electric type Pokemon with zig-zag tails, and og fat Pikachu was also very round). The need to rework the evolution also might’ve turned GameFreak off of it.

Pokes to fill the void: Spheal and Rowlet are both pleasantly round. Pikachu is cute and electric themed in a similar way. In terms of tigers, Raikou is also electric-type. The exact way the stripes are done here is also very similar to Litten.

Kurstraw/Pangshi

GameFreak. GameFreak, you are telling me that we almost had a voodoo-doll Pokemon based off of Ushi-no-Toki-Mairi that evolves into a fucking jiangshi panda?? You are killing me here.

A few interesting things to note here:

Kurstraw evolves at level 1. How? Why? No idea. It could just be a placeholder, but...

The fact that Kurstraw was set to have Curse as its signature move (then called “nail”) and that it only learned this move at level 100 makes it evolving at level 1 seem intentional.

To make things more confusing, it almost seems like (and this is speculation on my part) GameFreak’s intention was to encourage players to not evolve this thing. Stats are comparable, Kurstraw only gets its signature move if you level it up to where it can’t evolve, and Kurstraw has the better moveset (getting frigging destiny bond at lv. 16, while Pangshi gets... splash (which. makes more sense when you consider it’s called “hop” in Japan but it’s still useless). If that was what they were aiming for, then that’s a really unique mechanic that would really make this poke stand out.

Design wise, Kurstraw is... well, it’s a doll with a nail rammed through it. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s not very Pokemon-ish. Meanwhile, Pangshi is maybe a little too much like a Jianshi rather than being reminiscent of one, right down to the little hat. The pose, fangs, and panda colors (which resemble Jiangshi mandarin robes) are more than enough to get the hook across.

What I really love about these two are the expressions. They are just like, so dissonantly happy. Kurstraw is literally like

and Pangshi has the dead-eyed thousand-yard stare of Espurr, except unlike Espurr it looks completely and utter deranged. It looks like if this Pokemon ended up in Mystery Dungeon, it would respond to every question with “my favorite color is blood”. Amazing.

Possible reason for being scrapped: I think these two might’ve been scrapped just because they were too scary. I mean, it’s a voodoo doll impaled on a giant nail that evolves into a literal actual corpse. The implied violence was probably just a bit much for GameFreak.

The reason I think this is, beside the fact that they have fairly solid designs, good hooks, and all of their stats and moves in place, most beta Pokemon have had their premises revisited at some point. But we’ve really never gotten a voodoo doll Pokemon since this, and we definitely haven’t gotten any jiangshi Pokemon either, which suggests the problem lied in the very concept rather than the execution.

Pokes to fill the void: People say that Kurstraw was reworked into Banette, but if anyone Pokemon resembles it to be, it would actually be Mimikyu. They both have cloth bodies with drawn-on smiley faces that resemble something cuter than them and they both want to curse you for existing.

For Pangshi... well, there’s Pancham if you’re looking for tiny pandas. If you’re after a jiangshi though, you’re out of luck.

Wolfman/Warwolf

This Pokemon has a great hook. I mean, a Pokemon that wears a pelt that transforms it into a werewolf? Hell yeah. Not to mention it might be a reference to an obscure Nordic tale about people donning wolf pelts to turn into wolves for ten days.

Design wise, it... well, Wolfman looks almost exactly like Venonat. I’m not the only one who sees this, right?

That aside, I think the idea could be played up a little more. Wolfman is fine, save for its Venonat-ishness, but Warwolf doesn’t do much for me, basically just being a larger version with claws and fangs. If the idea is that it turns into a werewolf by wearing the pelt, what if its evolution looked somewhat like a wolf? Or better yet, the actually body of the thing changes to fill the wolf skin more, so it looks like its a part of it? That would really elevate this Pokemon to a new level.

Possible reason for being scrapped: I’d guess that it’s the same problem as Kurstraw and Pangshi--too scary. I mean, that is a dead pelt of some kind, which means that it killed and skinned some kind of Pokemon, and that’s not getting into questions of what Pokemon they got that from.

It’s also worth noting that when we did finally get a werewolf Pokemon via Lycanroc, it was minus the pelt concept.

Pokes to fill the void: Lycanroc as our werewolf Pokemon. In terms of design, Venonat is very similar as noted above. And something about it really reminds me of Snorunt, being little critters with glowing eyes that wear a cloak of some kind and live in the cold (this line was ice-type).

#pokemon #pkmn #beta pokemon #pokemon gold and silver #pokemon gen 2 #outdesign posts things #god this ended up a lot longer than I intended it to #anyway I hope you enjoyed me rambling about concept art for 2k words

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers Part 8 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: dark content (self-harm)

masterlist

a/n: By no means do I condone self-harm or want to glorify it in the light of this chapter. As a person who struggled with physical self-harm in her early teens, I know the destructive nature of this type of activity. However, as my characters are not perfect and complicated, I see this particular mode of action as something she would try to do in order to alleviate her pain and confusion. If you have questions or concerns, my inbox is always open to having a discussion about it.

If you so wish, you may skip this chapter altogether. There will be a recap on the next one if you choose to skip for your mental health. Take care of yourselves and see you soon. (ALSO, I know I promised smut but I gotta give y'all a raincheck this go-round. SORRY PLS DON'T KILL ME)

You're on your forty-seventh file of scandals, coverups, and secret dossiers that you finally feel it. The fabric of your identity begins to unravel right before your eyes.

Everything you've known is a lie.

The CSB has covered up so many things. So many lives lost. So many people forced to flee. So many families ripped apart--

An email makes its way over to the server, and you open it, the words across the screen coming from Suguru.

I know it's late, but send over Yu Haibara's files when you can.

You hit the reply button and begin to type out: "You mean the boy you killed?" but you stop yourself, deleting the words rapidly. Instead, you attach the files and send them over, not even bothering to look at them. You can't do it. Not another file could be stored away in the annals of your brain.

Nothing is as it seems anymore. The lies... they pile up in your mind, flooding the spaces where you used to hold what you thought was true, what you thought was real. Now, they're overflowing out of your brain and into your heart and soul, plaguing you like the nightmares that face you down night after night, more like demons that lurk in the corners of your mind than full file cabinets.

You always wake up in a tangle of sheets and sweat, one of your various enemies' faces hovering over you right before you stare down the barrel of a gun and --

You stumble out of the chair, eyes wet with tears, and go to the sink in the bathroom to wash your face. After you splash water on your skin, you look up at your reflection, anger rolling through you at the way you look. Weak.

You're fucking weak.

The voice in your head that usually told you that you were doing okay, that you had it all under control, is now turning on you, spitting nasty words that stick in between the synapses of your brain a muddy your rational thoughts.

The voices rise to a fever pitch, and you suddenly see red, the entirety of the world descending into blood-colored madness. The shattering of the glass mirror only becomes a reality when you're standing above the sink, chest heaving as your thoughts silence one by one, like shutting off lights in a house.

But only one stays behind as a shard of the mirror clinks into the sink.

Escape.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

You could get rid of the feelings here. You could get rid of the thoughts. You could escape. Why hadn't you thought about this before?

"Do it."

Your fingers grip the jagged shard of glass carefully, and before you can stop yourself, you drag it across the inside of your wrist, end to end, leaving behind a red line of blood that immediately blooms. Crimson dots drop into the sink, and you stare at the color, mesmerized by the way the blood runs down your arm and into the porcelain bowl. But there's no relief.

No sense of freedom.

Maybe you didn't do it hard enough?

Maybe you didn't--

The door to your room slams open, and you turn your head just as Suguru comes rushing into the bathroom. The shard of glass is still in your hand, as well as the blood running down your arm, and Suguru catches this immediately.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you turn to him, shard extended.

"Don't come any closer."

"Y/n," he calmly whispers. "You don't look so good."

"I wonder why that is," you reply, and Suguru stares back at you, hands raised in surrender.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like, Suguru?" you state in a trance. Your bullet wound begins to throb dully, but you ignore it, just like you're ignoring the blood dripping onto the tile flooring.

"Y/n, let's think about this."

"I don't want to think anymore!" The shrill scream is loud enough to make Suguru flinch, and you softly repeat, "I don't want to think anymore," over and over again as tears run down your face.

"I know," Suguru whispers. "I know. Will you let me help you?" You hiccup and drop the piece of glass to the floor, dissolving in a heap of tears and moans. You feel hands pulling you up from the floor and into strong arms, your head being cradled against a broad chest you've felt before. "Go ahead," Suguru encourages you. "Cry it out."

He carries you to another room in the building in silence, laying you on a firm bed and disappearing as you heave painful sobs into the sheets.

"Everything... hurts..." you gasp, and when Suguru reappears with a white bundle of cloth, a bandage roll, and some water, he nods.

"We're going to make it better, don't worry." He takes your injured arm and carefully wipes away the blood, examing the cut slowly. "Doesn't need stitches, thankfully." He turns to open the water bottle and hands it to you, silently telling you to drink while he bandages your wrist.

You drink the water greedily then lean back on the headboard, eyes closing down as Suguru works diligently on your wound. And then you remember the first time he did this for you and the mistake you made in your pridefulness.

"Thank you," you murmur, and Suguru looks up at your face, finally seeing some form of clarity cross your tear-streaked cheeks.

"You're welcome," he replies tenderly. "I have to keep you safe, remember? I promised you that I would." You don't answer him, but he finishes at that exact moment anyways, standing and placing the remnants of the bandage roll on the nightstand. The wound is now covered up completely, with no sign of blood seeping through the cotton and staining the white cloth dark red.

You watch as Suguru crawls into the bed beside you, sighing deeply as he runs his fingers through his locks. "Should I stay awake with you or do you want to try to sleep?"

"Sleep," you answer - albeit not confidently - and the black-eyed man obliges, pulling the thin sheet over you.

"I'll be right here," he affirms, but you reach out your uninjured arm and touch his hand. He instantly turns his palm up to let you grab his fingers, and you pull him closer to you in the king-sized bed.

"Hold me." A second passes with no movement, and Suguru whispers,

"Are you sure?" You nod, and he wordlessly scoots closer, wrapping an arm around you as you nestle into his side with your bandaged hand resting on his chest. His fingers rub a soft pattern up and down your skin, soothing you to the brink of sleep. "I've got you. We'll deal with everything else in the morning," Suguru murmurs as you slip off into a dreamless - and nightmare-less - sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning comes and goes.

Midday arrives, and you awaken from your terrorless sleep still encased in Suguru's grasp. Your eyes flick up to his face, which is peaceful in the midday light streaming in from the windows. The Leader of the Fallen Sun District is asleep and dead to the world around him, but the sound of his breathing lets you know he's on the brink of waking up.

Part of you doesn't want him to. You want to lay there without any responsibilities to him, without any concern, or further harm to either one of you. Maybe if you continued to sleep, all of this would become a distant memory. All of this would go away, and you could go back to living in ignorance.

But Suguru's stirring makes you stiffen, and you feel his arms tighten around you before sliding away.

"You're awake."

"Yeah," you whisper, and he sits up, pulling his knees to his chest.

"We need to talk about last night." You sit up as well, staring at the edge of the bed blankly. "Why didn't you tell someone about your declining mental health?"

"I didn't realize it until it was too late," you admit, looking at the bandage on your wrist. "But I won't be doing that again."

"Doesn't matter," Suguru interjects, looking over at you. You choose to avoid his gaze and stare at your feet, inhaling deeply. "I have to have someone watch you now. I want you to be safe, and now I'm not sure if I can ensure that without some oversight on my part."

"No," you exhale quickly, looking over at him in fear. "I'm better now, I promise."

"I'll have someone move a few of your things over here. That way I can keep an eye on you, just in case." Suguru continues, standing from his position on the bed. "I won't bother you. But I made a promise to you, and I'm going to keep it at all costs." He turns back to you, stating, "Today we'll take a day off and go into the town. I've been wanting to show you around for a while anyway."

You conclude the argument is over when he places a kiss on your temple, then walks into his bathroom, shutting the door and leaving you on the bed alone.

_____________________________________________________________

A car picks both of you up from the building, and when you slide into the backseat, Suguru points to the expanse in the distance.

"Take us to the marketplace." The driver nods, scars running up and down his pale face and his blue eyes looking up at you in the rearview mirror. Does this man even know that he's sitting next to the leader of the Fallen Sun district? Or is Kenjaku a faceless man, hiding behind walls of ones and zeroes?

The scenes that pass by you look identical to those of the city you know and love. There are children playing on the sidewalks, people carrying groceries, life carrying on as if the majority of their names aren't on some rejected list of people who defected from their previous society. Suguru notices your awe at the way things are, and looks over at you, smiling brightly.

"You'd be surprised what you can build from ashes, y/n."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling

#geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[jinmukangwrites]

"That was embarrassing" for Legend please?

The second Legend's body hits the water, all common sense flies out the window.

How could he fuck up this badly?! It wasn't even that bad of a fight. Nothing more than a few bokoblins with a few rusty swords.

But the lip of the river was slippery with roots and fallen leaves... when he stepped back to dodge he didn't even have enough time to call out when his gravity shifted unexpectedly with the sound of a boot squelching in mud.

The water is freezing. So freezing that it burns and makes his skull feel too tight for his brain. They're not sure who's world they're in, or whose time-line they're closest to, but one things for sure; the water definitely feels fresh from snow runoff. Early spring. Just Legend's Hylia-Damned-Luck.

It takes seconds or years for Legend to remember how to move his arms. He already can't feel his fingers, and it's almost like the water itself has grown limbs to latch onto his clothes and toss him whatever way it wants. He quickly loses sense of what's up and what's down in the murky water. Soon enough, his lungs begin to burn and his legs begin to weaken. He has no idea what to do... he's so cold and he needs to breathe and he doesn't want to die here and he loathes the water and the cold and the helplessness and he's never been the best swimmer and-

Something other than water grasps onto him. A pressure snaking around his middle and wrapping around his arm. Before Legend knows it, the agonizing beautiful sensation of air rushes over his face, causing him to splitter and choke and gasp and blink tears from his eyes. It's all he can do to try and grab onto whatever brought him up while his throat rebels barrel-full amounts of liquid from his lungs.

Everything is so loud. And so cold. Every time he coughs out water, more seems to flow in with the rushing raves of the rivers surface. When he tries to open his eyes against the white, rushing splashes, all he can see is a blur of confusing colors that for some reason he can't comprehend.

Everything seems to go black then. He can’t find where his body is, but he can feel the pressure of everything squeezing against his brain like it will explode.

Then… it all bursts back into light as he coughs water onto the ground below him. He curls up on his side, hacking and wheezing as he tries to make everything hurt less. He’s vaguely aware of a hand on his back, slamming near his spine over and over again as multiple echoes that almost sound like his name reach his ears. Eventually, he’s able to suck in a gasp of air for what feels like the first in forever. He blinks droplets that must be a mixture of water and tears from his lashes, hoping his vision clears soon.

Next thing he knows, hands are grasping against his arms and hefting him up so he’s sitting up. He feels boneless, but luckily there's a warm body right next to him; perfect for him to lean against and finally catch his breath.

He recognizes the smell of damp pine and campfire smoke that always seems to cling to Hyrule’s tunic. He almost goes limp with relief at the proof that after almost drowning in raging waters, this is all still real.

“Are you okay?” Hyrule asks as Legend begins to feel his body finally calm down. He looks ahead of him to see none other than Wild standing a few feet back with sopping wet clothes and his long hair dripping over his eyes. Wild must have been the one to rescue Legend from his watery fate; which makes sense as Wild is one of the best swimmers they have.

Behind Wild are shouting voices of the others all, perhaps, running one-by-one to make sure their local pessimist is still alive. 

And Hyrule... bless his best friend. He must have used every trick he knows in his head to sprint in the forest to keep up and be here. 

“Yeah,” Legend breaths. He brings his hands to his face to wipe away the lingering water. “I’m… fine.”

“Take all the time you need,” Hyrule says softly, shooting a look up at Wild.

Legend doesn’t know what is silently exchanged between the two of them with that look, but whatever it is he’s deciding now that he doesn’t like it. Sure, he’s just almost died in one of the ways he fears most, but he can’t have these two—let alone the rest of the group—start thinking he can’t take care of himself. He clears his throat.

“Thanks for the help, but I’m fine now. Really.”

Wild gives him an unimpressed look. “You almost died, dumbass.”

“We’re just glad that didn’t happen,” Hyrule shoots in quickly before Legend can argue back. Another look is exchanged between the two, which makes Legend feel entirely too left out. 

He takes a deep breath and shoves himself away from Hyrule. Hyrule makes a startled sound, but stays where he is while Legend struggles to his feet. The world spins along with his stomach, but Legend would much rather be standing than leaning against someone for much longer. “I’m sure the others are looking for us,” he says.

He takes a step forward and immediately feels his knees go pitifully weak below him. Before he can hit the ground, however, strong arms wrapped in soaked cloth catch him. Legend steadies himself against Wild with a sigh.

“That was embarrassing,” he says, more to himself. Wild, however, only laughs as Legend lets him wrap Legend’s arm around his neck.

“Suck it up, collector,” Hyrule says, running forward and grabbing Legend’s other arm. “Let us take care of you.”

When the others all finally burst through the trees with various amounts of visible worry, Legend supposes it’s too late now to argue much. 

As each of them, one buy one, begin to drill him on his health and offer blankets for him to get warm in… he decides that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let them worry about his stupid mistake for a little while. Especially as no one makes fun of him or try to lecture him on how he could have avoided it all. They all clearly… care for him… which isn’t something Legend is used to. He hasn’t let himself get close to someone in a long time, not since he’s learned that most of his loved-ones betray him or… leave him. 

Their worry seems genuine tonight. And it feels… good.

Yeah… yeah tonight he’ll let his shell shed ever so slightly. Just this once.

#linked universe #hero of legend #jin writes #drabble fic #drowning tw #injury tw #fanfic

[tanyawritesstories]

Touch | Kit Fisto x Reader

My first Kit Fisto piece! Kit asked the reader how humans enjoy and use water and they were more than willing to show him.

Tagging: @a-dorin and @savagesbonergarage because I know they are both Kit simps like me 😊

Warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of nudity, Kit is a sassy and silly boi

•••

You stirred the bath water with your hand until you were sure all of the bath bomb had dissolved. It tingled on your skin a little bit and smelled like fresh rain and mint; it had changed the water to a beautiful blue-green hue. You remembered to light the candles you had sitting on the edge of the large spa bathtub, also checking the assortment of lotions you had lined up on the opposite counter. You stepped back and made sure everything looked perfect. It was picturesque, you hoped he liked it.

You opened the bathroom door and poked your head out. Your lover was sitting in a chair on the far side of the bedroom, deep into the book he was reading. He had one ankle resting on the knee of his other leg and one hand being used to support his head. Your heart melted. He looked so serene and beautiful, his onyx colored eyes scanning over every page, concentration etched onto his face. You wanted nothing more than to keep this image forever. He sensed your presence and looked up at you, a smile forming on his lips. "Hello, my love." 

You smiled at him and could feel your cheeks turning pink; he still found a way to make your heart flutter. "Your surprise is ready," you said. You stepped into the bedroom, and walked to him. "I just need you to do one thing, lose your shirt and pants and close your eyes." Kit closed his book and set it on a small table, he stood up and started removing his clothes. You helped him take off the three different shirts he wore and let him do the pants.

"Ok, you can leave your underwear on, just close your eyes," you instructed. He obeyed and you waved your hand in front of his eyes to make sure. "Why are you waving your hand in front of me?"

"How-" You were confused for a moment, before figuring he was able to sense it somehow, or maybe he just knew you too well. You smirked and bonked him in the arm with your hand, causing him to chuckle.

"C'mon troublemaker," you took his hands and slowly began leading him to the bathroom. "You're not going to run me into anything, are you?" He teased. "No," you giggled. You stopped to open the bathroom door before leading him inside and closing it. "It smells nice in here," he commented. "Don't open your eyes, just stay right there," you said, letting go of his hands. You quickly went over to the vanity and hurried to take off your normal clothes.

"Darling, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it," you responded.

You threw your clothes in the hamper before opening one of the vanity drawers. You pulled out an emerald green silk nightgown and hastily put it on. You smoothed it out and looked in the mirror to make sure you looked good. The nightgown had thin straps and lace around every hem, it came down to your knees and was flowy, light, and comfy. It wasn't meant to be sexy or anything like that, you bought it because you thought Kit would like the way you looked in it.

You returned to stand in front of him and took a few steps back, double checking everything. “Ok, open your eyes.”

Kit's eyes opened and he took in the sight before him. The entire bathroom was bathed in candlelight, you had drawn a bath that was an interesting shade of blue, or green. To top it off you stood before him wearing a new garment he’d never seen you in, and maker did it look gorgeous on you.

“It’s perfect,” he praised. You flung your arms around him and pressed your head to his chest, able to hear his hearts beating one after another. He ushered you to the edge of the bathtub, “What have you prepared for me?”

“You said you wanted to experience the ways humans use water, this is one of my favorite ways,” you smiled.

“Do enlighten me.”

“I put a bath bomb into the water,” you explained, “They are condensed balls of fragrance oils, soap, and color. They make your skin feel nice.” Kit nodded in partial understanding, “And the purpose behind this is..”

“To relax,” you finished, “Something you sorely need, get in.” 

You turned and walked to the vanity, “Now it might tingle at first but that’s normal.” You looked through a drawer trying to find the other identical bath bomb to show him what it looked like in its package. “Should I remove my undergarments, or not?” He asked. “Up to you,” you answered, closing that drawer and looking in another. Something light hit your legs and you looked down to see Kit’s shorts laying at your feet. You turned around in time to get a glimpse of Kit’s cute, perky butt as he sank into the turquoise water. You tsked and returned to the drawer, finally finding the bath bomb at the back.

You kneeled next to the bathtub so you were eye level with him. "This one is called Mon Cala Crush. It's made for aquatic species, so it won't hurt your sensitive skin or.." you blushed slightly, "or other special areas." You glanced at Kit to see the smug little grin on his face. He lifted one arm out of the water and held your chin in his palm. "You look beautiful," he complimented. 

"Thank you, Kit."

"Did you buy this dress just for me?" He asked, stroking his thumb along your cheek. "No," you said playfully, "I bought it for myself, to wear for you. And it's a nightgown, not a dress." He smiled at your sass and booped you on the nose, "Troublemaker." You giggled and crossed your arms on the edge of the tub, you both staring into each other's eyes. "Do you like it?" His arms slipped into the water and he moved them around. "I love it," you smiled brightly, "though it would be perfect if you joined me." 

"Darling this is for you to enjoy and I have to go make dinner soon," you informed. Kit made a noise of annoyance and sunk farther into the water. "Can't we just skip dinner? I like you right here, beside me."

"Only if you want to go hungry. I'm making your favorite," you whispered the last part into his ear. He looked at you, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger again. "Why must you give me such difficult decisions?" 

You took his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles, then the back of his hand and his wrist. He watched as you planted kisses on his skin, making your way up his arm. He felt peaceful as he watched you with adoration in his eyes, his hearts so full of love for you. His lover, his little human, a person the Force had chosen for him to have and hold and cherish. All his, and he couldn't be happier.

You continued peppering little kisses all the way up to his neck, onto his jaw, and over till you found his lips, connecting them with yours. You both always kissed with such passion, like it was the last kiss you'd ever share. During the war there was no guarantee he'd come home every time he left. You both eventually had to disconnect your lips. Kit couldn't use his gills out of water, but if he could he'd kiss you forever.

You nuzzle his nose and massage his shoulders. "Five more minutes and then I have to make dinner," you said softly into his ear. Kit hummed and closed his eyes as you massaged his shoulders and back. He was chest deep in the soothing water and you gently splashed it over his shoulders. You kissed his temple and told him not to go anywhere before making your way out of the bathroom. It only took you about 15 minutes to prepare dinner considering it had to sit in the oven for 45 minutes. That should be enough time for you to finish your surprise for Kit. You headed back upstairs and quietly entered the bathroom. Your heart melted upon seeing your Nautolan lover asleep in the bath, the turquoise water gently lapping at his collarbone with every breath he took. His tentacle-tresses draped over the edge of the tub and you found yourself, again, wanting to immortalize the moment forever. You kneeled behind the tub and leaned over it, your lips only centimeters from his ear. 

“Where are you?” You whispered. He hummed and didn’t move. “Home, on Glee Anselm,” he said fondly. “What’s it like?” You asked, voice smooth and low. “Blue, warm, peaceful. Paradise.” You smiled to yourself, a twinge of sadness going through you at the fact that Kit couldn’t afford the luxury of visiting his home that he loved so much. “You’re there,” he added, “But no one else. We have a home, a family, the war is far from us.”

Your heart sank at the reality but lifted at the hope, maintaining a perfect buoyancy in your chest. “You always have such beautiful dreams,” you remarked. Kit opened his eyes and turned just enough so he could see you. You managed a smile and kissed his cheek, “Are you finished soaking, my dear? I do have more of my surprise for you.” Kit agreed and you got up to get him a towel, you tossed one to him and took the other one, wrapping it around his shoulders. You helped him dry off and got a new pair of shorts for him.

“What else did you have planned for me?” He asked, sitting down on the end of the bed. “If you’ll allow me I’d love to slather you in lotion and give you a massage but that’s up to you,” you said nonchalantly. Kit laughed, “Did you even have to ask?” You shrugged, “I figured I should.”

You retrieved the lotion from the vanity in the bathroom and returned to find Kit laying on his stomach in the middle of the bed, his broad muscular back on display. You kneeled next to him on the bed, squeezing some of the lotion into your hands and moving his head-tails out of the way. His muscles seemed to relax as soon as your hands touched him. You smoothed the lotion over the back of his neck, shoulder blades, and down to his lower back. He hummed happily as you kneaded his skin and muscles into a state of calm. Satisfied with your work, you told him to turn over and you started on his front. Running your hands over his collarbone and pectoral muscles, down over his abs and stomach. All the while Kit watched you, taking in the little details in your face. He suddenly sat up, face inches from yours. “Kit, I’m not finished-”

“I want a kiss.”

You melted again, he sounded almost sad, a small plea for love. You cupped his face in your hands and pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his lips. He kissed back with slightly more force, snaking his arms around you and holding you tight to him. You knew deep down Kit was afraid of losing you and this was a rare instance that he showed it. After several seconds he broke away but didn’t let go of you. “You’re so good to me,” he said, love dripping off the words he spoke, “Let me do something for you.”

You smiled, “Your love is enough, Kit.” He took your cheek into his palm and was about to speak when the oven sounded from downstairs. “Dinner is ready,” you stated, “Should we go eat?” He nodded, “But will you let me do something like this for you?” You moved your hands to his shoulders, “I would like that.” Kit smiled and pulled you in for another kiss.

With you, he might make it through the war.

#star wars the clone wars #kit fisto #kit fisto x reader

[harryspet]

rogue angel [3] bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark bucky barnes x reader, don’t read warnings if you don’t wanna be spoiled, daddy bucky, dd lg dynamic, ab dl dynamic, forced age regression, bondage, vibrator, overstimulation

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! 

series masterlist

In which you want to believe he cares. 

word count: 2.5k

“Where are we?”

“On a picnic blanket.”

You had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes as you took in the environment. He had to carry you for a good ten minutes before you ended up by the lake and you hadn’t taken your eyes off the view since he’d set you on the picnic blanket. The lake was surrounded by tall mountains that reflected off the blue-green water. You hadn’t seen anything like it but this was simply a backyard to Bucky. 

There was also a dock nearby with a deck boat sitting at the end. If you had a key and you could somehow make it down to the lake then you could-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of something cold touching your back, “Stay still for Daddy,” You tried your best as he began to rub sunscreen into your exposed back. You wondered how there could be snow on the mountain tops but the sun still shined down on your skin. You never felt the sun on your skin before, always locked away in the cell that they kept you in. 

You didn’t mind it then but now … 

“Can we swim in the water?”

He tapped your nose with a bit sunscreen on his finger and you insisted that you could rub it in yourself but he didn’t care to listen. 

“The water is pretty cold,” You frowned a little, “Do you like to swim, angel?”

“I don’t know,” You answered honestly. You had no idea what you liked. It wasn’t in your nature to enjoy things of that nature. 

Bucky held your face in his hands and you wish very dearly that you weren’t so close to him. The feelings he brought out you were frightening, “We’ll try swimming someday. We can try lots of things and then we’ll make a list of everything you like.”

A list? “Why does it matter?”

“Because they make you happy,” Bucky gave you an earnest look, “C’mere, I brought something for you to do.”

He moved to reach into the picnic basket and removed a couple of books as well as a fresh pack of crayons. He placed them in front of you, one was full of blank pages and the other had lots of designs. You flashed him a look of confusion as you stared at the items. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“They’re for coloring,” Bucky grinned, “You can either draw your own pictures or color in the designs. It’s relaxing.”

Relaxing, you thought it was an interesting concept.

You had no idea what you would draw on your own so you picked the book that already had outlines in it. Bucky watched you carefully as you flipped through the pictures, none of them piquing your interest until you paused. He couldn’t see which one you had chosen but your mood seemed to shift at the sight of it. 

“Just … right on the page?” She asked after picking out a yellow crayon. Bucky didn’t expect the question or for her to care in the slightest about the coloring book, “I won’t ruin it?”

“It’s your creation, how can you ruin it?”

You could definitely ruin it, you thought, you had screwed up many times before. As your fingers traced the design of the family of giraffes, you couldn’t help but stop yourself from pressing the crayon to the paper. 

It weakened Bucky’s heart to see you nervous and it took little effort to scoop you into his lap. You struggled, unsure of his intentions at first but he grabbed a blue crayon, “Let’s do it together, princess.”

The picture was a cute family of giraffes enjoying a watering hole together. Bucky began to color inside the lines of the water and you hesitated, looking him over. One hand was on your waist and the other was around the crayon. You brushed off that feeling in your heart as you pressed the yellow crayon to the paper. 

You colored their hides yellow and their spots brown. You liked how you added the splash of color, brightening the page, but could keep things organized by staying in the lines. You hadn’t even noticed that Bucky had stopped coloring to just admire you. 

Your eyes were focused solely on the drawing and he felt you began to relax in his arms, “You’re making such a pretty picture, Y/N,” Bucky praised her, watching your nose crinkle as you tried to hide a grin, “When we get back to the house, we’ll put it on the fridge.”

You didn’t respond, only shaded in the trees with dark green. You lost track of time as you colored in every single detail on the page carefully, from the butterflies to the smiles on the giraffes’ faces. You didn’t even notice as Bucky began to slip blueberries and strawberries into your mouth. You just enjoyed the taste, caring only to make sure no juices slipped onto your artwork. 

“Why … why are they so happy?” You asked, after placing the final touches. 

“Who are they?” Bucky asked, following your fingers as you pointed to the giraffe's on the paper, “Hmm, we could make up our own story. Maybe they’re happy just because they’re together?”

You looked over the picture again and you could suddenly see the picture moving, “Maybe they’re a family … maybe these are the Mom and Dad and maybe this is their baby,” Your fingers traced over the picture as Bucky listened to you speak. He liked the sound of your voice very much, especially now that you were relaxed and your mind was racing with pure thoughts, “Maybe the baby was lost for a little while and they found him … a-and they always go to the watering hole together so the baby never gets lost again.”

You felt Bucky place a gently kiss on your shoulder and you were surprised that you didn’t flinch. Not even a little bit. “That’s a beautiful story, angel,” You only nodded, feeling a tear drip down your cheek. Your lips parted in a look of shock as he wiped the tear away with his thumb.

“I’d never lose you, Y/N.”

For a fleeting moment, you believed him. 

+

Bucky added coloring to the list of things that you would probably never admit that you liked. You had colored a few more pictures and Bucky had proudly displayed them on the fridge. Now, he was seeing if you liked Disney movies. After her dinner and bath, he had set up the projector in the living room and created a cozy space for them on the couch. 

You waited patiently in your unicorn onesie and pigtails on the pile of blankets and stuffed animals.

Out of the most interesting DVD covers, you had picked Frozen from the pile. 

“How does the snowman talk?”

“Because of Elsa’s magic.”

“Why does he like summer so much if it’ll just make him melt?”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t like summer.”

“Is magic real?”

“I’ve seen some pretty magical things in my long lifetime.”

As much as the moving shapes and fun songs intrigued you, it baffled you at the same time. This is what people did for fun? They just sat around and let movies entertain them rather than working? You guessed that Bucky had lived long enough not to have to work anymore. 

After you had gone through both of the Frozen movies, Bucky decided that it was time for you to go to bed, “Can we watch another one? Please?” You grabbed his hand which took him back for a moment, “Daddy? I want to see more magic stuff.”

If Bucky got you into that bed then he’d wrap that magnetic cuff around your leg and you’d have no chance at escape.

Bucky believed you as you were a convincing liar. He should’ve known better, remembered your Hydra training, but he couldn’t deny your doe eyes at that moment. He sat back on the couch and let your head nuzzle into his chest, his right arm holding onto you. 

You knew how to slow your breathing and heart rate down and that’s exactly what you did as you pretended to sleep on his chest, “Goodnight, princess,” He whispered, stroking your hair.  As Lilo & Stitch reached its end, you felt Bucky’s head tilt back and some light snoring ensued. 

You waited until he was deeper into his sleep, to move his arm from around you. You were as careful as you could possibly be. 

You thought you’d fall but as you put one foot in front of the other, you managed to keep your balance. You were wobbly, of course, but you were walking. You held onto the back of the couch to keep your balance as you practiced for a short moment. 

You moved as quietly you could through the house as you mentally yelled at your legs to not give out. You looked over the front door, at the three locks that were on the door, and carefully undid each one. You took at least a minute on each one, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. 

Your plan was perfect. I’d never lose you blah blah blah. He had some ulterior motive you couldn’t quite calculate yet but you knew there had to be a reason he was pretending to care for you. Everything was perfect until an alarm blared through the house and then through the forest that surrounded the house. 

You moved as quickly as you could without tripping over yourself. Down the porch and then towards the treeline. You almost jumped out of your skin as the sound of Archer’s barks filled the air. 

You cursed because your body wasn’t listening to you, “Y/N!” He called for you and your heart sunk. You turned to see he wasn’t even chasing you. He was far too strong and you were far too slow for that. 

As your knees suddenly buckled, you fell onto the grass, “Don’t touch me!” You shouted as you felt his arms grab ahold of your waist. He lifted you and tossed you over his shoulder without a word. You screamed for help as your fist pounded at the rock he called aback. 

He carried you back into the house, the scent of the evergreens still on your nose, as the front door slammed shut. He disabled the alarm before carrying you up the stairs. You weren’t surprised when he brought you to the room but your eyes widened as he tossed you onto the bed. 

He held you down with his vibranium arm as he wrapped those magnetic cuffs around each of your wrists, “Bucky, please. Please don’t hurt me-” 

“I’d never do that, Y/N. I could never do that,” His words were soft but his tone was anything but it. You had truly made him angry and something in your heart twinged as you heart the hurt in his voice, “But you have to be punished somehow. You can’t run away from me. I take care of you and you are obedient in return. That is the only way things will work around here.”

“Bucky-”

“Call me that one more time and you’ll make things worse,” Your mouth instantly closed as you heard his words. 

Bucky leaned down to undo the buttons at the crotch of your bodysuit and you flinched as he tore away the fabric of your underwear, “W-What are you going to do?” He didn’t answer as he grabbed a device that looked sort of like a wand. It was a bright pink color and mushroomed at the top. He used a belt to strap it to your thigh as he pushed it against your folds. 

As it began to vibrate, you threw your head back as your body reacted to the shock. If you thought the emotions you were feeling were foreign, this feeling was otherworldly. It felt strange… good. Your cheeks began to heat as you saw him watching you and you guessed this was another aspect of your punishment. 

You pulled at your restraints as electricity seemed to flow through you, warming your body with pleasure, before that heat seemed to build up in your core. You felt something coming like you might wet yourself, and you winced, “Don’t run from it, angel. It won’t hurt you,” And he was right because, as you tried to relax, it ripped through you. You shook as your body lept over that cliff and you exploded in ecstasy. 

Bucky could feel himself growing harder in his briefs as he listened to you moan uncontrollably. He looked away from you for a moment, trying to call himself down as he grabbed your pacifier gag from one of the lockable drawers, “Pl-Please-” You were still crying out in pleasure as he forced it into your mouth. 

You were done, your body had reached its climax but the stimulation continued. You watched as Bucky crossed the room, taking a seat in the rocking chair across the room. His arm was bent on his knee and his hand on his chin as he watched you. You shook your head over and over, wanting him to stop it but your body was beginning to prepare you for another climax.

How many could you have? How many would Bucky force out of you?

After number two you were writhing in that small bed, running from the next orgasm. As you moved your hips, it only pressed the vibrating toy closer to your sensitive bulb. Your screams were being muffled by your gag.

Just one break. If you could have just one break you’d be okay. Right now you weren’t sure how long you could stay conscious with that scorching fire inside of you burning on. You weren’t sure what happened after number five, you were so tired that your vision was blurry. Still, you felt Bucky’s hand against your cheek as you floated away into dreamland. 

+

“It’s only been a few days, Bucky.”

“I just thought I was making good progress today.”

“You were, I’m sure you were. She didn’t just forget the connection you’re building with her. Her instincts are still telling her to run, telling her that you are the enemy but soon ... you’ll be the one she runs to.”

Bucky sighed, holding the phone closer to his ear, “I really hope so.”

“My little Rory was just like her and, after I lost Vision, I didn’t think I could take his rejection at first. But I was all he had and I showed him that I was gonna be there for him whether he hated me for it or not. You just have to be there for her.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “I’m just gonna be there for her, Wanda. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You’re a great Daddy, Bucky,” He could hear her warm smile through the phone, “I can’t wait to meet your little angel. I’m sure she’s just as beautiful as you describe her.”

+

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! What sort of role do you hope Wanda plays in the story? Also, if you want to give me some extra support then you can buy me a coffee through the link in my bio :)

#dark bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #wanda x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes smut #dark fic #dark!bucky x reader #dark! #little space #bucky smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x y/n #mcu #marvel #marvel smut #dark marvel #avengers #avengers x y/n

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 17/?)

Chapter 17: The Bridge

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

The following morning, after waddling out of bed to use the restroom, you returned to see Connor waiting for you, flat on his back, arms spread invitingly, eyes looking suspiciously drowsy, despite the obvious fact that he had no need for sleep. You could have laughed at the innocent, adoring look in his eyes, if he wasn't naked and if last night's events had not occurred.

You crawled back into bed, nuzzled your cheek into the divot right beneath his clavicle, and tangled your legs, humming with delight when he pulled the blankets back over you and wrapped his arms around your back, smothering you in the warmth you had created together throughout the night.

"The weather has been warming up," he commented into your hair.

"Mhm," you agreed tiredly.

"I'm tasked with walking Sumo today," he continued quietly.

"Mhm," you hummed again.

"If you would like to accompany me again, I was thinking we could go to that park you told me about: the one you loved when you were a child..."

You leaned back to look up into his eyes, surprised he had remembered that; Connor was an android, so of course he did. But, still... Just because he remembered something didn't mean he had to designate it as important.

"It's a bit of a drive from Hank's place," you commented quietly, peering up to catch his magnificent, brown eyes.

"I don't think Sumo would mind," Connor replied sincerely.

You laughed softly, laying your head back on his chest. His fingers found the perfect place in your lower back to rest and he relaxed against you. Even though he wasn't tired at all, he understood how much you valued sleeping in on your off days, and decided to give you just a few more minutes.

Besides, if he was being honest, he was enjoying this.

...

...

...

Connor drove while you sat in the backseat with Sumo, one hand on the leash and the other on his back to keep him calm. You stared out the window, feeling like a kid again as you relived a drive from a long time ago. Connor had, unintentionally, taken the same route, likely because his GPS informed him it was the most efficient.

You passed all sorts of familiar places: a school that still had the ridiculously hideous orange paint job, a bank that never finished repairing the north brick wall, and a tree in someone's front yard that had grown at a strange angle.

Back then, it was too far of a drive to take often. It was an occasional treat that your grandmother would bring you when she was in a good mood. Hank had taken you and Cole here once or twice for a holiday themed festival.

When Connor pulled into a parking spot, you were amazed to find the place hadn't changed much at all.

There was a lake in the center of the park with a massive bridge that swept over the narrowest point, connecting seamlessly with a path that circled around the park in winding roads. The water was shimmering blue, lily pads along the edges of the water beneath the bridge. Beautiful, towering trees and flowering bushes lined the walkways. There was lush green grass throughout the grounds, and not a weed in sight.

You couldn't help but wonder who maintained the park these days. It was no secret that androids had almost exclusively taken over landscaping jobs in recent years. That would have come to an end with the revolution. Yet, somebody was still taking care of the place.

Connor approached the back door hastily when you stepped out. You were still holding tightly onto Sumo's collar, keeping a close eye on him when he hopped at the car, drooling excitedly.

"I don't think this park is safe for you," Connor warned you sharply.

You looked up at him with a startle, wondering what it was that had worried him.

"I have detected a pollen in the air that you are allergic to. I fear the consequences on your respiratory systems," he explained hastily, looking deadly serious and concerned.

Your worried expression faltered and you coughed out a laugh. "Almost everyone in the world has hay fever, Connor," you explained with a smile. The android's harsh expression didn't immediately dissipate; however, he did appear confused by how lightly you took the situation.

"Come on. Don't worry. All that's gonna happen is some sniffling and sneezing," you insisted, excitedly taking hold of his hand. "I can handle some pollen."

The android was stiff for a second, likely reevaluating his findings on pollen allergies. ‘Sniffling and sneezing’, as you had put it, didn’t seem to be a particularly harmful side effect to air born allergies.

"If you are certain," he replied, seemingly put at ease by your explanation.

Connor took the leash from your other hand and directed Sumo to the path ahead. The vehicle locked with an assuring beep as you walked away and he tucked the keys into his pants pocket.

The android found himself feeling oddly proud of the look you were wearing. Your touch on his hand had loosened as you took in the sights, feeling overwhelmed by nostalgia.

"I'm so glad you suggested this," you breathed as you approached the bridge.

You let go of Connor's hand and started trotting to get a head start. He was patient and let Sumo set the pace before eventually joining you at the highest point on the bridge, the top of the curve, and the very center. You leaned against the railing and looked over into the water.

Last time you were here, you were too small to see over the edge. Now, you easily could look into the shimmering waters below. Sumo came to a halt, as well, and stuck his face through the railing to look below. Connor would have been worried about the dog trying to jump; luckily, he was too wide to fit even if he tried.

The bridge creaked quietly beneath your feet with each step. Connor joined your side and leaned against the railing. The water beneath was almost perfectly clear. He could see a swarm of colorful fish frolicking, splashing about, clearly hoping that you were going to provide them with food.

The sun was poking out of the pale white clouds above, providing some warmth against the slight chill in the breeze. The trees rattled softly, leaves making a beautiful symphony. Some children were playing soccer in the field on the other side of the lake, laughing joyously. Some older ladies were sitting at a bench, reading together in silence. Couples were jogging together along the trails.

He felt more at peace with the world than he had in a long time.

Connor shifted his eyes away from the ambiance and took in your face. You looked as blissful as he felt, staring blindly ahead, the wind brushing through your hair and the sun's warmth tinting your cheeks pink. You took in a deep breath, as if it was the most delicious thing you had ever tasted.

"I love you," Connor said, so softly that you briefly considered that you had hallucinated.

Startled, your head whipped over to look at him. The look in his eyes, the burning adoration as the sun shimmered in his brown orbs, told you that you hadn't imagined his words.

"I wanted to tell you the night that you learned my manufactured purpose," he confessed with a soft smile. "But, I was afraid you wouldn't think it was sincere." You stared at him, eyes stinging and lips parted. "I'm not certain that I know what love is. But, I'm certain it is what I feel for you."

The soft look in the android's eyes morphed into concern when he saw a tear cascade down your cheek. You hastily lifted a hand to wipe it away, sniffling.

"I was supposed to say it first," you teased, trying to ease the emotions bubbling up. You dragged your sleeves across your face, trying to catch the tears as they fell.

"I love you, too," you whimpered, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes.

You felt something big and wet smear against the side of your knee and looked down to see Sumo nudging you with his nose. You huffed out a pathetic laugh. "I'm okay, Sumo."

Connor looked grateful when you looked back up at him, as if he hadn't anticipated you to reciprocate.

"I love you so much, Connor," you proclaimed, sniffling as you tried to hold back tears. You wiped your face hastily when more droplets began to fall.

"Please, don't cry," the android said, almost sadly, stepping in so close that he had to crane his neck to look down at you.

You doubted that he was aware that the face he was wearing was making it nearly impossible to stop crying. He looked so helplessly in love, and that face was looking at you - his brown eyes staring at you, that LED shining stunning gold as he worried about you.

All you could do was wonder what you had done to deserve such a thing - the love and adoration of this android, of this being you held in such high regard. He couldn’t have been more perfect if he tried.

"I'll cry if I want to," you huffed, hoping some attitude would calm you down.

Connor's forehead nuzzled against your temple. "I love you," he said again, and you recognized that tone as one of disobedience. Once, he believed that androids - machines - couldn't feel anything, couldn't want anything. That extended to himself, to what he thought were his own limitations. Yet, in that moment, Connor was strangely pleased that his confession had brought you to tears.

"Connor," you whimpered, scoldingly.

He didn't want you to be sad, to hurt, to suffer; but, these were tears of happiness. They were strangely beautiful, that you could feel so strongly for him. For whereas you saw Connor in a bright light that shined above all others, he saw himself as just another living being in the world, one of millions of androids.

-and, somehow, he found you before anyone else could.

"I love you," he said again, uttering the words against your cheek proudly.

You smacked a hand against his chest harmlessly, huffing, "I love you more."

"That's statistically impossible," he replied softly, apparent tease in his tone. "I assure you, my affections are stronger."

He smirked when you started grinning at him. "I will fight you, android," you huffed pathetically, laughing and crying at the same time.

"You don’t stand a chance against me," Connor teased quietly.

His free hand caressed your cheek and you felt his thumb brush along your skin, smearing tears. "I’ll show you," you retorted softly, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to will yourself to stop crying.

You felt his lips fall onto your forehead, the stubble on his chin prickly against your skin. For a second, you let yourself get lost in the moment, and felt his words repeat, echoing inside your head. It felt like you were living a dream, and you never wanted to wake up.

When you heard a distinctive tapping sound beneath you, you looked down to see Sumo had started walking away, his nails clicking against the wood of the bridge. Connor leaned away from you when he felt the leash tug on his hand. You flashed him a smile and then started following after the saint bernard, glancing at the android over your shoulder.

He followed without hesitation, stepping in so close that his shoulder smacked against yours. You met halfway, hand clasped tight and fingers interlacing, a gesture that had become natural. The moment hadn't faded, but your desire to cry subsided. Connor's hand felt warm and all you could think about was what wonderful things were to come.

"On our way back to Hank's place, let's get takeout," you said, changing the subject. "That man can't use chopsticks and that's simply a crime."

"Nothing that some positive reinforcement can't fix," Connor agreed.

#connor x reader #deviant connor x reader #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #rk800 smut #connor smut

[xiaoderys]

❝ Saturated Sunrise ❞ (l.dh, n.jm) I

DISCONTINUED

pairing: haechan x reader, jaemin x reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst, possible smut soulmate!au, college!au, social media!au mixed WITH narrative

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive with possible smut in future chapters

word count: 2.5K

parts: prologue , character-profile, I

synopsis: you gradually lose your ability to see colors as you fall out of love with donghyuck

you were red and you liked me because I was blue. but you touched me and suddenly was a lilac sky. then you decided purple just wasn't for you.

You’ve always loved the rain, unlike your boyfriend who would squirm whenever a single drop touches his golden skin, but then again, who could blame him? he was like the sun; a ball of roaring fire that could never learn to love its polar opposite. But you on the other hand, could never hate it even if you tried, there was just something about it, maybe it’s the tranquility of it, the smell, the aesthetic or the fact that it brings you back to the very night you met Hyuck.

It’s quite funny really, you’d think these only happened in movies and tv shows yet there you were, soaking wet and walking side by side with a boy you barely knew under an umbrella that barely covered you both.

You sighed deeply while looking through the glass windows of the convenience store and up at the dark sky, the rain was pouring and you figured it won’t be stopping any time soon.

You didn’t have your umbrella with you but it was already past 10pm so after a few minutes of internally arguing with yourself, you got out of your seat, walked out and pulled your bag above your head to somehow shield yourself from the rain.

new instagram post from Donghyuck, 1 new text from mom, 6 new notifications from bible study

open? Yes / No

As you took your first few steps outside, you heard the bell ring from behind you, signaling that there was someone going in/out of the store.

You didn’t mind it at first but you heard someone yell “Hey, wait up!” no one else was around so you assumed the person was calling out for you and stopped in your tracks.

You turned around to look and just as you do, a car sped right in front of you which caused the rain water from the ground to be splashed all over you.

“Well, fuck” you exhale.

You lowered the bag covering your head as you were already soaking wet from head to toe and wiped your dripping face swearing to yourself that the universe hated you.

As soon as the car passed, the person on the other side of the road, jogged towards you and adjusted his umbrella over your head “What the hell were you thinking?”

You were quite confused as to why this person was suddenly scolding you so you just furrowed your brows at him.

“Walking home without an umbrella in this weather? Are you stupid?”

“Well what do you want me to do? spend the night at 7-eleven?” you didn’t mean to respond with sarcasm but you just got soaked with rain water and this guy who was nagging you while talking just called you stupid which did not help you and your anger issues.

“Better than ending up looking like a wet dog that just played in the mud but I think it’s a little too late for that” he said as he looked you up and down.

“Hey, it’s not my fault! that guy was driving like he’s in grand theft auto!”

“Well if you just stayed back in the store and waited for the storm to at least calm down a little bit then you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place and I wouldn’t have had to leave my delicious cup of ramen in there all alone” he raised his brow acting as if he made a point.

“No one asked you to do that”

“No one asked me to be so unbelievably hot either but here I am”, you scoffed at his sudden cockiness but you’d rather eat your own arm than feed a man’s ego so you looked at him with a distasteful expression “Just go back to your ramen, I can handle myself”

“Lies. You’ll freeze to death before you could even get half-way home. Here, take this” he took off his jacket and handed it to you.

The cold wind mixed with rain and your wet clothes hit you like a truck bigger than your ego but your stubbornness still got the better of you “I-I don’t need it”

“you’re literally shivering like a little puppy”, he was right but are you going to admit to that? No.

“I bite into my ice cream without feeling a thing and sleep right in front of the air conditioner, I think I’ll be fine”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, showing his annoyance “Why do you have to be so difficult? you’d rather walk home freezing than put your pride aside for a second?” the angrier he got while scolding you, the more he talked in a pout so instead of scaring you into listening, you actually found it a little cute—

“Hey, are you listening?!” thunder struck all of a sudden which made you flinch and Donghyuck swore right then and there that you were the most adorable thing in existence.

After seeing you jump from the thunder, his expression softened and suddenly the rain was pouring heavier than before and you were shivering like crazy. He sighed, and put his jacket over your shoulders himself.

You were gonna take it off and give it back to him but he stopped you “if you take that off, I’ll kiss you” normally, you would love to challenge a bluff but you couldn’t take it anymore, it was so cold and you had no other choice, so you mumbled a quick “fine” and although it didn’t help much, you did feel a lot warmer.

He smiled at you, satisfied with your decision “Great, so where are we headed?”

“We?” you looked up at him confused

“mhmm, were you just expecting me to give you my umbrella and let you go home with my adidas track top?” he said with a ridiculing expression

“pretty much, yeah”

“This is my only umbrella and that jacket costs over a $60, I’m not letting you walk away with it just like that and besides, there are loads of creeps out here”

“$60 for a jacket this thin?” you held up the sides of the jacket wondering how a jacket so thin could cost more than your weeks worth of allowance.

“Yeah, it’s a bit off a rip-off, but that’s not the point, dummy. I’m your only option of getting home safe wether you like it or not”

“You don’t even know me, why do you care so much if something happens?“

“My gentleman nature is truly my biggest flaw-“ you rolled your eyes and turned around, ready to walk away but he held your shoulders back “ah ah, hold on! My mom would never forgive me if she found out I left a girl all alone to walk home in the rain”

You sighed “Fine but no talking, I’ve already used up all my social juice for the day” he nodded cutely and snuggled beside you.

You didn’t get the chance to think about it but he looked around your age and appeared to be a student as well, considering the fact that he wore a tracksuit and was carrying a backpack.

You tried to catch a glimpse of his face every now and then and you weren’t gonna lie, he definitely wasn’t bad looking.

Being a little shorter than him, it gave you the opportunity to study his side-profile; his jaw was quite defined and his features were really soft and he had these insanely fluffy cheeks oh- and you also noticed his plump lips that made it look like he was always pouting.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” he said with a straight face, not even bothering to look in your direction.

“What?” you widened your eyes, blood rushing to your cheeks due to embarrassment.

“What? you think I haven’t noticed you staring at me for the past five minutes? you’re practically undressing me with your eyes” he playfully rolled his eyes.

You slapped his arm “No, I wasn’t! what’s wrong with you!”

He let out a chuckle, finding your annoyance and the way you turn red when embarrassed very amusing but you on the other hand just stayed with a pout and furrowed brows.

Donghyuck soon realized that you haven’t caught each other’s name yet “so what’s your name?”

“I thought I said no talking”

“Come on, small talk won’t hurt you”

I guess it’s better than walking in awkward silence “I’m y/n”

“Cute. I’m Donghyuck“ he smiled.

Since you were making small talk, you decided to ask about him more “if you don’t mind me asking, are you still a student?”

“A high school junior, yes, you?”

“Oh my god! same!” Donghyuck noticed how you got a little too excited over something so little but little did he know, that your childlike nature was just a sample of your many unforgettable qualities.

“Really? your height is making me think otherwise”

“Hey! My height is average!” you stopped and started to get defensive.

“And it’s not like you could talk, you’re not even that much taller!” that was a lie, he stood a good 7 inches taller than you making him the perfect height to give you forehead kisses.

“Okay mike wazowski, let’s keep it moving”

“Are you really trying to get me mad?!”

You looked so cute with your brows knit together and mouth forming a thin line that Donghyuck just couldn’t help but laugh “No offense but I literally feel like I’m being threatened by a cupcake”

“Do you want to fight?!” and just like that, Donghyuck found his new favorite hobby: annoying the living hell out of you.

“Pftt, what are you gonna do? eat my kneecaps?” he rolled his eyes.

“You know what, take your umbrella, I’m going home on my own!” You were ready to leave and he chuckled “Come onnnnn, I’m just kidding, it’s already-“ he checked his phone for the time “10:57 and I have to be home by midnight”

“Who are you? Cinderella?”

“Yeah but I’m much prettier and charming plus I have a mom who will eat me alive if I stay out too late so let’s get going”

“okay but you have to promise to stop teasing me”

“Alright. I’ll try” and with that you huffed continued with your walk home

You didn’t want to admit it but you really enjoyed Donghyuck’s company, there was just a natural sense of familiarity with him which made you feel at ease.

He would talk about the most random things but no matter what they were, he always found a way to put a smile on your face.

He even talked about his little puppy at home who probably misses him which made you feel bad because the puppy must be so sad right now and here you are, taking up too much of Donghyuck’s time.

You were both so into these conspiracy theories that you didn’t even notice that thirty minutes have passed and you were right in front of you house.

“Well, uhm, this is me” you smiled softly.

“Oh then I guess I’ll get going now” he responded, getting ready to go home.

“Wait uh- thanks for you know, walking me home and stuff.. I’m really sorry for being rude earlier” you looked at the ground, feeling ashamed of how you acted earlier when he was only trying to help.

He chuckled, ruffling your hair “It’s fine, I won’t exactly be very happy either if I got ground water splashed all over me while it’s 10 degrees outside, but you do owe me a cup of ramen”

“Oh come on, that probably only costed like a dollar or something” you whined

“3$ actually and it was a really delicious cup of ramen so I’m gonna have to get your number because I’m not letting this one slide” if Donghyuck was being honest, he couldn’t give two fucks about the ramen; normally, he’d be really mad about it but the fact that he can use it as an excuse to get your number, made up for it.

“fine” and that was how it all started.

Now, you could’ve called a cab that night or asked someone to come pick you up but you didn’t. Call it fate or your brain just wasn’t working at the time but you sure as hell know it happened for a reason because that’s what brought Hyuck to you.

There are forces in the universe that we don’t understand, measurable forces that can’t be explained but also can’t be denied and nobody gets it but maybe that’s what it was because right here, right now you’re with a distressed Donghyuck because you both forgot your umbrellas and have to take shade under an oak tree.

He hated the rain, he would squirm every time it hit his skin yet he still gave up his jacket to cover you. He continued to scold you because quite frankly, you stopping to pet every single stray animal you saw was the reason why you got caught in the middle of the rain anyway.

“You know, one of these days, one of those strays will bite or scratch you and you’re gonna get rabies” there he was again with his lips in a pout, annoyed by the continuous droplets of rain meeting his golden skin.

“Hmm maybe, but until then, I’m gonna stop to pet every single one I see because all of them deserve love and attention. You know, if it were up to me-“ he cut you off “You’re gonna adopt all the stray animals in the world and take care of them, I know. You literally never fail to mention that” you smiled at how he always seems to never listen to you yet he remembers the little things. But then you noticed that he was shivering “are you cold? do you want your jacket back?”

“no, I’m fine” he exhales.

You furrowed your brows and looked at him with worry and of course he noticed.

“Baby, I’m fine, I swear, all this sexual tension between us from being so close together is enough to keep me warm”

You playfully hit his arm and he chuckled “No, seriously, keep it, you need it more than me” oh, he hated it, he hated it so so much. He wanted to be anywhere with you but there but he wasn’t gonna admit to that and he didn’t want you to worry.

Youu started to talk in a pout, a habit you unconsciously picked up from your boyfriend whenever you were worried “but you’re shivering, can we at least share it?”

Donghyuck knows the jacket would never fit the both of you but he also knows that you’re not one to give up easily, it’s one of his most favorite things about you, except when you’re arguing or playing games because you’re both egotistical assholes yet you’re the only one who can put him in his place and the only one he sets his pride aside for.

You looked at him snuggled right beside you, trying his best to not let the rain touch you and despite the situation being unfavorable, right at this exact moment, everything just felt right and you know you were supposed to be here.

#haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan au #jaemin au #haechan fluff #jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #haechan smut #haechan angst #jaemin angst #neowritingsnet #haechan #nct x reader #jaemin #nct au #nct social media au #nct smut #nct fluff #nct-writers #nct scenarios #nct college au #nct dream #nct #nct 127 #nct dream smut #nct 00 line #jaemin imagines #haechan imagines #nct drabbles #nct texts

[phoenixkadeu]

family dynamics

The house was in shambles, it took Asra a good five minutes just to prepare himself mentally for what he might see. There was nothing he could have done to prevent it, already a bit too late when he first noticed the group at his front door, his list of priorities already sorted out, he had to leave them be in order to save his parents from what was coming for them.

He had failed at that too, but he was dead set on making everything right. Today he took a small step, deciding to organize everything, restore the balance inside his house and leave it clean and tidy just like he had last seen it, so that when his parents returned they would have the perfect place to rest and heal.

Books were scattered on the ground, having fallen from the shelf that was decorated the living room. Asra did his best not to step on anything as he picked them up, careful not to fold any pages as he closed them again before reorganizing them.

One particular book, one with a leather cover, captured his attention. Its condition was good, but its contents were something he had yet to see, so after deciding to take a small break the elementalist sat down on the dirty floor, book in hand as he flipped the pages rapidly until he got to the very first one.

For my son, use it well

The words were simple, but somehow they meant a lot to Asra who quickly understood who this sketch book belonged to. These were the words written by his grandfather, whom he had never met. still too young (given the lifespan of his species) when he died, an air elementalist who also had a taste for adventure and the unknown, it was a particular nasty encounter with a manabeast that had ended his life.

He left his human wife, still pregnant with their third son and two other small children who desperately needed his care and protection. Maya was the name of his grandmother, not only did grief end her, but the sudden death of her husband made her lose her sanity to a spiral of paranoia.

She felt powerless, in a territory ruled mostly by violence and with two, soon to be three children to take care of, everything just felt a little bit too much to handle. Fortunately, Emma, a friend of the family, noticed what was happening and was quick to offer a helping hand, a single woman with a big house and a strongarm who could and wanted to provide for them.

Had it not been for her, none of them would be here now. His grandmother has already passed away, peacefully, knowing that her children were healthy and capable of living a happy life, even without her.

The pages were turned, small sketches of buildings, animals and unknown faces caught his interest, if not for the skill that they portrayed, definitely for the signature at the end of the page. This indeed belonged to his father, it showed a talent and sensibility that Asra never knew his father possessed.

He almost skipped it, a drawing that occupied one page, charcoal lines on a white page, forming a little girl with a mischievous spark in her eyes, hair tamed by two braids at the side of her head, her bangs sticking out on different directions, but other than that the uniform she was wearing seemed to have been portrayed in perfect condition. If it wasn’t for the small note at the end of the page, Asra would have ignored it, not recognizing who that little girl was.

Tanya, her first time wearing The Academy uniform.

Asra snickered, his face lighting up as a stupid amount of teasing comments started to form on his mind up. This did not look like his aunt at all, this was not the woman who had impulsively cut almost all of her hair because she could not bear the thought of someone grabbing it during a fight, not the one who almost had more scars on her body than freckles on her face.

After all the years it sometimes seemed like a lie, but the truth was that Tanya at some very brief point in her life had been a student at The Academy. She was the oldest out of the three siblings, the only girl and possibly the most chaotic. When she first discovered that she was an elementalist she did not feel happy about it, she had already made peace with the fact that she was most definitely only a human, like her mother. 

More than used to throwing mud at all the kids - younger and older than she was - who paraded around the streets in their uniforms, just to watch them cry after she had ruined their little show, it was not a shock that she hated the first time she was made to wear the exact same clothes she had mocked for years.

she lasted exactly a month, met asra’s mother in the process, the only true friend she made there, before finally deciding that the elementalist life was not for her. She liked to fight, with kicks and punches, stabs and slices, it was unbearable the training that they had to endure at The Academy, since every time some other kid decided to splash water in her face all she wanted to do was to break their fingers and make them drown in their own tears.

After analyzing a few other pages, Asra came to a stop again. It was the drawing of a young man as far as he could tell, since there was no way Asra could tell his real age. 

A bored expression, mixed with a bit of annoyance decorated his face, a single mole on his left cheek, disheveled hair and a weird amount of rings and bracelets adorned both his fingers and wrists. Searching for some kind of clarification, since it was clear that this man possessed some features that were way too similar to both his father and aunt, Asra found what he needed again, at the end of the page.

Miles, drawn from memory.

So, Miles was Asra’s uncle, a man that he had no idea existed until later on his life when Tanya revealed what had happened to him. The youngest of the three, the only one who unfortunately did not meet his father and the one who was born at the worst time possible, but yet the one who had proved to be the most capable since very young.

Becoming an air elementalist meant everything for him, since that was the only way in which he could feel some connection to his deceased father. With a mother who was quickly going insane, mind consumed by paranoia and thoughts way too confused to be able to satiate the desire he felt to know more about his father and with a brother and sister who were also way too young to be able to tell him much about the man their father was, the element he shared with his father was the only way that he could feel close to him.

A brilliant academy student, driven by his efforts to become better than his father, to protect his family and continue the job his father had abandoned way too soon. Miles always had the need to prove himself, no project or task could be unfinished, a perfectionist at heart.

He kept a secret that was quick to corrupt his heart. He had fallen in love with a brilliant young woman, her smile was able to lit The Academy’s corridors, she was equally as good as him and a lot less troubled than him from what he could see from afar, she was the only thing that could take his mind off of things.

It was a surprise when that woman first appeared at his door asking for Tanya. He learned that she had been the one to share some of her knowledge with his crazy sister. From then on, Miles had gained the courage to speak with her, whenever she came to his house and whenever he was able to cross paths with her at The Academy. Conversations were easy with her, she was kind and beautiful and everything he wanted, but the air elementalist was so enamored that he failed to see the reality of the situation.

He was able to hide his hatred when he first discovered that she had fallen for his brother, thinking that it was only temporary, that he was only a way for her to pass her time because he knew how smart she was and most of all wanted to believe that her brother would never be enough for her, nothing more than a mere human, a man that was bound to die sooner or later, one that would leave her alone in the end and when Aisha realized that, Miles would be there to make her see that he was the only one for her.

His fantasy was broken years later, the woman he had loved in silence was beside his brother, more happy than he had ever seen her as they both announced that she was pregnant.

He lost it, confessing and spitting hurtful facts at them in the heat of the moment until finally Tanya dragged him out.

Miles apologized the next day, truly regretting every little word he had said. Asra’s parents had forgiven him, but that was not enough, Miles knew he would not be able to hold back, to see them forming a family and growing old together, he knew that he would never be happy for them no matter how hard he tried, so the best thing he could do was leave.

After that he disappeared. No letter, no goodbye, simply gone till this day. No one has any idea if he is either alive or dead, in Kadeu or not, all contact was lost.

Shrugging Asra moved on, more pages were turned until the very end. The last page signaled the end, a perfect picture painted in faint colors. His mother was holding Asra close to her chest, hands protecting his small and fragile body, nose buried into his golden hair.

He was little, way too little to remember that particular day, still young enough to be able to sleep so soundly, to feel so safe in someone else’s arms, no scar yet, just a pair of rosy cheeks.

He closed it, got up to put it in between the other books. His father drew the story of their family, but Asra knew that it was yet to be finished, he would make sure that they would get back together so they could all give his father many more moments to capture.

#kadeu: task #task: family dynamics #one eternity later #just have this mess #asra's fam is perfect because they get rid of bad energy that's all #also I did not write about his mother's side of the family #but they're fine #just 2 water elementalists living life #I will proofread this more later #I wanted to try a different approach at this #so this is like a few days after his mother being kidnapped by kol

[auroralwriting]

Fagr

Anon Request: hi love ur fics! Could you do a Loki x reader where the reader always tags along with Loki and tries really hard to be besties with him (also could you make her pan) and he’s on the other hand all soft like does her really want to hang out with me???

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/n: I wasn’t really sure how to add in the pansexual bit, so I’m sorry about that! I did try my very best bby <3 (translation for the word comes into play later in the story!)

Masterlist

You had a good amount of friends within the Avengers. Natasha was like that older sister you loved, Wanda being your twin who understood you better than anyone, Peter being your annoying little brother you love. Steve was the fun yet serious uncle and Tony was the overprotective yet loving dad. Okay, it was more like a family, but you all were friends, too.

But there was that one person who stumped you; Loki. He arrived a few months ago with Thor. They had given the kingdom to their friend (well, more Thor’s friend) Valkyrie and wanted to be Avengers. Thor was already one, but you could tell Loki was nervous about being here on Earth again. He really didn’t have a choice.

So, you decided to try to make him feel more comfortable around the compound.

You would make him his tea - just the way he liked it, with a splash of milk - in the mornings, leave books in front of his room that you thought he’d enjoy, and you had even began to show up wherever he was in the compound. If he was in the lounge reading, you’d go and sit by him while scrolling through your phone. If he was training, you’d go in and do some simple yoga.

As you continued doing these small gestures, you couldn’t help but wonder if Loki noticed. When you tried to make small talk, he simply ignored you. He’d never even turn to look at you.

But he did notice. The only reason he didn’t get up sooner to make his own tea was because he liked you doing it for him (it tasted better when you made it). He liked the books you left for him, even going as far as to reread them multiple times. He liked it when you would show up and give him company, whether it being when he was training or simply relaxing with a book in the lounge.

Loki had begun to wonder if you actually did want to hang out with him. Everyone saw him as a monster, a murderer, but did you? Could you really be the one to see past that and try to gain his liking?

So, one day, he got up early to go for a stroll around the compound. When he noticed you hadn’t gotten up yet, he took it upon himself to make you your favorite drink and put it in his mug. Once he got done with that, he went on his way to go for his walk.

Once you had woken up, you went to do your usual routine and make Loki his drink when you noticed his cup was already out.

You looked to the three people in the room, wondering if they had made him his drink for you.

“Hey, Nat, Sam, Wanda, did you make Loki his drink?” you asked, walking over to the green and white cup.

“No, I thought you did.” Natasha replied, taking a bite of her eggs.

Sam laughed. “I don’t even know what he drinks.”

Looking to Wanda, she simply shook her head. You picked up the cup and noticed the drink wasn’t the usual dark, rusted color. It was a different color, one that looked oddly like your drink. So, you pushed the edge of the cup to your lips and let a small flow of the liquid flow down your throat. It was your drink in Loki’s cup. He never showed up to breakfast.

The next day, Loki once again woke up before you to make you your drink again. Only this time, he left a book outside your room. A fantasy book from Asgard. He thought you would enjoy it.

After you woke up and went to walk out of your room, you almost stepped on an old, brown book sitting in front of your door. Picking it up, you could practically smell the old book smell. It was nice, comforting. You flipped through the pages, seeing a few words you didn’t understand. You picked one, reading through the lines carefully.

Through the vast valley of large, echoing mountains, the sky had looked fagr, the colors radiating the hue of the warmest colors.

Fagr, that had to be a different language. You’d never heard it before, seen it. So, you tried to use context clues to figure it out. Amazing? Magnificent? Radiant?

You were so intrigued that you put the book on your nightstand. You’d read it later tonight.

A couple of days passed by, and Loki decided he’d take it one step further and accompany you wherever you were that day. It was around seven, the sky had begun to turn a darker blue indicating that the sun would be setting soon. Loki found you sitting on the roof, looking up at the clouds.

You heard someone walking up to you, so you turned your head to see Loki sitting down next to you.

“Your legs are dangling off the edge. If you were to fall, I’m sure you’d be injured.”

“I’m sure I would be, but I’d never fall off. Willingly, at least.” you replied, your head turning back to the sky. “There are more constellations, right? More than what we can see here on Earth.”

Loki nodded. “Indeed there are. It’s a shame your planet has so few.”

It was silent for another moment, until you remembered the book. “You left that book outside my door the other day, right? And the drink in your cup?”

“Yes, you are correct. Did you enjoy it? The book, I mean.” Loki asked.

You looked at him now, he was already looking at you. “I did. But it had words in it, uh, Old Norse?”

“You’re a smart one,” Loki acknowledged. “It is Old Norse.”

“There was this one word that stuck with me,” you began. “I memorized the beginning of the line. It was ‘Through the vast valley of large, echoing mountains, the sky-’“

“’The sky had looked fagr, the colors radiating the hue of the warmest colors’.” Loki finished.

You nodded. “That word, it described the sky. What does it mean?”

“Ah, yes. I thought you would have questions. Fagr, it means beautiful.” Loki answered. “You could use it in another way to describe. Like describing you.”

Your whole body froze in place, your eyes went wide. Did you hear him right? Had he just called you beautiful?

“Describing.. me?” you asked.

“You, yes,” Loki replied.

“Why?” you inquired.

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You just asked me why, why fagr describes you.” he stated, but you hear the confused undertone in it. “Do you not see how beautiful you are?”

You were stunned. You couldn’t find the right words, and the ones you tried to stumble out were frozen in your throat.

“You mortals truly do fascinate me. But that? Do most mortals not see their true beauty?” Loki wondered.

“Some,” you forced out. “Some of us,”

Loki shook his head, his eyes momentarily fluttering shut before he looked at you again. “I’m amazed that a being as gorgeous as you cannot see how perfect you are.”

Loki’s words left you stunned once more. Did he just compliment you again? By the look on his face, he was patiently waiting for you to reply.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “I’ve just never been told that before. I’m not really sure.. what to do.”

It seemed that you left Loki stunned by the way his jaw fell slightly slack. “Are mortal men fools? They don’t appreciate what’s right in front of them. It’s sickening to hear that you have never been told of what a wonder you are.” Loki sighed. “So it seems I must be the one to remind you of just that.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I’m attempting to court you. Or as you humans say, ‘ask out?’“ Loki guessed.

“Yes,” you replied. “I don’t know how Asgardians do it, but I would love to be your girlfriend. Only if you tell me more things in Old Norse.”

Loki chuckled as his hand intertwined with yours. “I will do my best, minn ásynja.” You raised an eyebrow. “My goddess.” Loki translated as you smiled brightly, head leaning onto his shoulder.

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki one shot #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #loki fluff

[my-watch-begins]

Peeping Sam.

Rafe Adler x Reader.

Words: 3435

Warnings: cursing, smut, (voyeurism maybe? IDK)

~•~•~•~

The heavy wind ruffled your hair as you stepped out of the car, the air filling with the heavy hums of the engines of the jet. Your free hand shots your hair backwards as your other one clasps onto your purse and phone.

Your eyes run around the tarmac until you find who you're looking for. Standing a few feet away, he taps his foot on the floor as he waits for you to reach him. You smile, hoping that would lessen the thin line that his mouth has formed, along with his clenched jaw and hard stare.

"You're late" he says loud enough to make himself heard over the engines.

Your hand grabs the rim of your sunglasses and pulled them up over your head, making your hair stop swinging in weird directions. You lean over a little and tilt your had upwards, a smile still on your lips.

"Just fashionably" you humour, hoping he would lean in to your lips for a quick kiss. You look away into the distance as he pulls back and heads for the open door of the jet.

Oh, you hated when he did that, just leave your hanging for a kiss.

Your jaw clenches in anger as you will your sunglasses back down and walk behind him following him to the jet, your heels click over the stairs and once you're up, you hear him command take off as he sits down on the big leather seat next to the window.

The door is sealed shut, you sit in one of the seats next to his but separated with the hallway and look to the side, fitting your purse and phone in a compartment that opens next to you. Once the plane is up in the air you take your seatbelt off and stand up. One short step later you turn around and lean back to sit on his lap, he gives you a sigh of annoyance and looked up at you.

"I told you I needed to leave right away, that was two hours ago"

"There was a traffic jam, that was not my fault" you excuse quietly, rounding his shoulder with one of your arms your other hand comes up to his neck, pulling his face up to meet yours "where are we going?"

"To Scotland"

"Oh" you gasp quietly in disappointment.

"And I don't want to hear it"

"You don't want to hear what? Me complaining an old decrepit church gets more attention from my fiance than me?" You stress, leaning back to look at his brown eyes. His stare softens and he places one of his hands on your lower back, another one creeps from your thigh upwards, just barely teasing on the rim of your tight dress. "You said-"

"I know what I said" he interrupts, his hand crawling from your lower back to the middle, pulling you in and having your face hover up above his "I've got someone who's been working on it, I'm just going to apply a little pressure because it's been more than a year without nothing, and I'm about to move to another strategies"

"Good" you whisper, your hand hooks behind his neck and pulls him for a kiss, his hand now fully sneaking under your skirt and teasing between your legs. "Rafe-" you gasp, stopping his hand halfway "not on the flight"

"They get paid to not watch" he smiled over your lips, hooking your hand on the back on your knee to pull it and make you straddle him, his lips not leaving the ferocious attack on yours.

Rafe Adler and you had meet when his parents' company had absorbed your parent's just before it succumbed to bankruptcy, an event that would've most likely have left you to find a new lifestyle. Luckily between mingling dinner parties even if that had happened you'd already found yourself hooked to Rafe's arm and tangled in his Egyptian cotton sheets. That had been years ago, he'd since then brought you along on business trips, paraded you around with investment firms and put a nice ring on your finger.

You knew about the pirate treasure, it had been the subject of pillow talks enough times for you to know everything, and his travels to the Scottish church was one he did at least once a month until you'd made the mistake to tell him to forget about it.

There was no other reason for him to want the treasure if not for the reputation, the fame, fortune? No, he had enough of that already, a few more million dollars wouldn't really make his balance a big difference, but being the man who found Henry Avery's pirate treasure, oh that had a nice ring to it.

You thought it only had been a few months ever since he mentioned that he had a new expert to help him with the search, but now it came to your attention it had been in fact more than a year, and Rafe had been told by this expert that with the technology of today, they could open a lot of dead ends.

You arrived at Rafe's state in Scotland, an army of people coming out of the mansion. One of them opened the door of the car to help you exit, another one of them opened the door of the state and Rafe took a step to the side to let you in first. Since you had not had time to get a bag ready, there was not much unpacking to do, luckily the state had become a second home to you and you had enough spare clothing in there. You'd moved to the bedroom to change into warmer clothes leaving behind the dress that was perfect for the New York heat, and moved to a pair of pants and a wool sweater.

You found yourself in a few business calls after Rafe had texted you to take care of them while he talked with the expert, who was also staying in the state. Dinner time came, and not wanting to have it alone you instead headed out to the garden and the pool. A slow steam oozed out of the surface of the pool, making you know that the water was hot. You smiled and proceeded to undress completely, the night air hitting your skin and making it perk up in goosebumps that quickly subsidised as you climbed down the side ladder and downed your body in the lukewarm water.

You leaned over the edge of the pool to rummage around your clothes to find your phone, you snapped a photo of yourself tentatively over your shoulder, making your backside stand out it's curves under the water and sent it to Rafe.

Your left to phone on the side of the pool and swam around, hoping he would see the photo and come to your encounter outside. That didn't happen.

Rafe was in one of the rooms, looking down at blueprints and old books.

"So, that's why it's taking a while" Sam quickly excused "I've been trying to make my way around these books to find any mention of Avery and his passing relating to the Scottish monastery, so far it's nothing"

"Samuel" he began, lifting his eyes to Sam's, his gaze slowly hardening "it's been past a year, and I've already scouted the shit out that fucking building in the time you've been in lockup" he quickly pulled up his eyebrows and gave him a smug smile "so, it's time we move out of the monastery, I've got a contact who can-"

"Wait wait wait" Sam hurried as he placed his hands up "I can still go to the site, maybe there's something I'm missing"

Rafe loved moments like these, moments were people suddenly succumbed to try and change his mind about thing, he didn't take joy just on Sam's pleas, but also with assistants, chefs, help, even his own investors, businessman, he loved the power.

He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave him a curve of his mouth, looking at him through squinted eyes.

"I'm staying here to help with the research for up to a month, I have other matters to attend... But maybe if we throw both our brains at this, we can work it out" he assured, then just as Sam was about to relax at his words, he tightened he grip just a little on his shoulder "but just one month, I've already wasted more money and time in this adventure than the one I'll be able to get out of one filthy pirate"

Sam nodded, making Rafe smile and pat his shoulder, leaving the study Sam had made his own and walking to the bedroom.

Sam sighed out of his nostrils and shook his head, looking into his pockets for a lighter and his cigarettes.

He'd been buying time, now noticing that it might've been too much already and Rafe was he restless. He'd found what he thought to be a good lead to follow, but he wasn't going to present it as an option until he got a last good look at the church in those following days, he was sure there was a clue there and he couldn't believe he was missing it, his stubbornness not letting him look to another solution to the puzzle.

He felt sick doing this by himself, and he'd already thought of what was he going to say to his brother when I went out to find him and told him that he'd been, firstly; alive, secondly; looking for Avery's treasure with Rafe.

He walked out of the study and into the outside balcony, his lighter clicked and sparked up a flame. He lit up his cigarrete and leaned his forearms on the stoned fence that rounded the balcony, looking outside and taking one deep calming breath.

"Hello?" He suddenly perked up at the female voice, he looked behind him with a frown, what a thing of nightmares to hear a voice out of nowhere in a creepy castle "down here" the female beckoned with a chuckle. He leaned over the edge and looked down at the garden, a figure presenting in front of him on the pool "hi" she saluted, looking up and moving to the edge of the pool. From his view he could see the outlines of your body, noticing the even color that gave away that you were naked.

"Hi" he answered, his voice coming up to a high pitch of confusion.

"I don't have a towel, mind throwing one?" You ask, looking up and leaning over the edge, you finger holding your face up.

Sam bolts out of the room and heads over to the bathroom, in a few seconds he's opening the door to the garden and walks to the ladder, as soon as he sees your hands grab the handles and pull yourself up, he catches a glance of your naked breasts and the water that cascades down your chest, he looks up and a smile peaks on his lips. He's holding the towel open and he heard the water splashing, along with wet steps walking to where he's at, his eyes do not leave the spot he's picked on the sky. He feels the towel being gripped and taken out of his hands, the rustling of the fabric makes him know that the piece is now safely draped around your body.

"Good job on not looking tiger" you whisper with a smile then start walking to the door. Sam finally looks at your figure, his smile disappearing from his face as he sees Rafe holding the door open, him too clasping a towel on his hand. His audition picks up a conversation as his gaze looks down, dodging Rafe's.

"I just saw your text" Rafe excuses, dropping the towel in a nearby patio chair.

"It's okay" you dismiss. Sam picks up from the corner of his eyes how Rafe's arm rounds your waist as you walk through the door, both of you disappearing into the state and leaving him outside.

He hadn't felt the whirl of emotions in a long time, going from surprise to excitement to arousal to dread in just a few minutes. Sam walks inside, relaxing in seeing no sign of Rafe or his girl.

It amazes him how little time has passed between you two walking in and the muffled moans that come from the master bedroom. He walks past it to head to his own room, but stops dead in his tracks as a high moan reverberates out of the room, followed by deep grunts.

He stands at the door, wondering if he's really thinking about what's he's going to do next, his eyes darting to his hands holding a few tools to pick the lock. He's done that a few times with about just every locked room in the state, finding a vast amount of spare bedrooms and office spaces, nothing too fancy. He knows the layout of the master bedroom quite well, so when he picks the lock and it clicks open, he just has to push it ajar barely an inch to get an almost full view of the king size bed, his eyes dilated when he spotted the two figures on the bed.

Rafe's hand snakes up your throat and pulls you on your knees, your back flushing against his hard chest as he pounds you from behind, his other hand holds your waist still in a hard grip, leaving you immobile and he pulls back completely and rams into you with hard and decided thrust. As he keeps pounding at a steady pace your moans picking up in volume and in tone. His mouth comes to your ear, his grip tightening on your neck as his hips keep buckling back and forth, driving his hard cock into you.

"Are you liking that?" He breathes out, you eyebrows knit at this middle as your moans become more high pitched at the speed.

"Faster" you demand, Rafe let's out a breathless chuckle on your ear.

"Faster you say?" His hand leaves your neck and pulls your chest down on the bed, your backside sticking up and opening itself more to allow Rafe's thrusts, he picks up the pace, favoring speed over depth and in a few seconds your hips and buckling and your toes curling as you scream, fisting the bedsheets, you scream a moan and then complain when he pulls out, pushed you a little to the side as he moves to lay on the bed. "Come here" it's his turn to command, you comply quickly crawling on top of him, his cock finding it's was back into your pussy as you sit.

He grunts when he feels your walls are still clenching past the orgasm, and he doesn't wait for you to finish. His hands come to your waist as yours come to his chest, your hips lifting all the way up on his length, then dropping in one quick move. He allows your pace, his hands crawling from your waist to your breasts, cupping them and filling his palms with them as you continue moving your hips up and down.

His hands come to your elbows and grips them, holding them at either side of your body as he pulls you to lay your chest on top of his, he plants his feet on the matress and gets more leverage, your face comes to his and he plants a hungry kiss on your lips as he began to quicken the pace, thrusting upwards, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as much as your muffled moans.

His lips leave yours with a grunt, seeing your half pained, half pleasure ridden face.

"Too much for you to handle love?" He asks, you bite your lip and shake your head in denial.

"I love your cock pounding me just like that baby" you breath out.

His hands, still gripping your arms by the elbow, tug back making you straighten up a bit.

"Open yourself up for me" he demands, your hands come to the height of your ass, so you grip it and open yourself up, that move somehow turns on your sensitivity to a thousand. Rafe's thrusts don't falter one bit as he picks up speed, eliciting longer and louder moans from you along with a string of 'yes' that doesn't stop until your legs involuntarily close at his waist, you yell out and buckle your hips out of control as you cum. Rafe leaves your arms and places his hands on your ass, crunching his torso upwards as he makes your hips come up and down on his length in three quick successions until he bursts inside of you with a heavy grunt ripping out of his chest.

Your hands had grabbed onto his biceps and squeezed your fingers into his skin as you rode our your orgasm and braced yourself for his last thrusts, the ones that always left your legs tingling and threatening to lose sensitivity.

Rafe plops down on the matress with a long sigh, your breath is trying to go back to normal as you look down at him, your face still at the same height as his.

He chuckles when he sees your hair messing out of the best ponytail that is now down to your shoulders and just a fucking mess. His hands trail from your waist, going up and down the curves of your body as he pulls you down, your lips come to his in a drunken and half conscious kiss.

He cups your neck and pulls you back just a bit.

"Shower now or tomorrow?" He asks, you quickly descend fully onto his chest and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

"Tomorrow, I can't barely move" you said quietly. Rafe takes it upon himself to move out of you and clean the mess between your legs, then lays you properly on the bed and slips in with you. Your arm lays on his chest and your face comes to the crook of his neck again. After a few minutes of laying quietly, you lift up your head and look at him. He notices you're not sleeping and looks down at you. "What was that?" You ask, tinting your head to the side.

You've done that move a thousand times, and Rafe fell on it a thousand more.

"You're welcome for the best fuck of your life"

"And?" You tease with a chuckle, he chuckles at his own response, then lifts his hand and rubs his fingers down you jaw, going up lightly on your cheek.

"And I love you" his finger traces up your temple, finally his hand cups your face and his thumb lays over the apple of your cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, you know this"

"I do know, I just like to hear it from time to time" your fingers come up to his hand, tracing down lightly on his palm and down on his wrist, a gentle touch that sent shivers down Rafe's arm. He pulls you in as he crunched his head up, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

The next morning, you're up before he is and you're almost ready to head out for breakfast, he waits for you in the bedroom, giving his watch a glance before he stands up.

"Wanna have breakfast on the dinning room-" he asks, walking to the door, he stops on his tracks and inspects it.

His finger comes up to the handle and he pulls back, the door opening with ease. He looks down the hall through the crack of it and pulls a little frown.

"Rafe" you call, standing next to him as you fix your earings, he looks to the side at you questioningly "what's the other option?" You pick up the previous conversation.

"The living room, I can have the fire set up for us" he pulls the door open.

"That sounds lovely" you mutter with a smile, finishing with your earing.

He walks a step out the door and pulls it, leaving it ajar and looking through the crack, his head tilts upward as his tongue pushes up on his palate.

You take the door and open it, finding him with a expression on his face you couldn't pinpoint.

"What was that?" You ask, confused as to why he's doing all of those weird moves with the door.

"Nothing" he dismissed, extending his hand to you "let's grab breakfast".

#rafe adler #reader insert #smut #Uncharted 4 #sam drake