#and keep practicing doing things in more smaller sessions

[shararan]

i think krita is starting to feel a bit better finally....???? figured out how to best adjust key shortcuts and after 2 months or so the default brushes are actually meshing with me now that i can better feel how similar they are to the ones i always use in csp.... tbh i might just consider using that and csp both side by side once i build my new desktop, theyre different enought to force different things out of me and i find that fun and refreshing honestly

[girlrotterr]

ꉹㅤׅ⠀⁺　⠀⠀ she's got my ࣪˖ ˙⠀❀ attention ˚

photographer!ellie x model!reader Summary: You were hired as a model for a series of photoshoots at a local studio. At first, ellie, the photographer, seemed proffessional. But over time, things shifted. You started noticing how her eyes lingered. It wasn't supposed to be anything more than a job. a/n: finally...some smut ;)

The studio lights hummed softly above you, casting a warm glow that blended with the late afternoon sun filtering through tall, industrial windows. You had just finished another set of photos, shifting your posture as you stretched your limbs and brushed the stray strands of hair from your face. Ellie, the company’s photographer, adjusted her camera, checking the lens with her usual furrowed brow, muttering something inaudible. She had been the photographer for nearly every project you’d worked on in the past few months, and though she had started off quietly professional, something about her behavior had changed lately.

“Can we do one more set?” ellie had asked, her voice casual but laced with that familiar insistence. “I think I’m getting some weird glare on the lens again. The lighting’s off.”

You nodded, as you had done so many times before. At first, it was easy to believe her. Every photographer had technical problems now and then. But lately, the excuses had piled up. She often claimed the lighting was wrong, or her camera wasn't calibrated correctly, always needing just one more shot, another angle. You weren’t naive—you had noticed how her eyes lingered, not just on your form, but on the space between you two, as if there was some unspoken tension she couldn’t quite place.

Ellie adjusted the lights once more, her fingers moving swiftly, an air of practiced skill surrounding her. But there was something else beneath her careful professionalism—a kind of nervousness you hadn’t seen in her when she first started. Now, her eyes were always on you, watching, studying. The distance between the two of you felt smaller with each session, though she never said much. It was like she was drawn to you but didn’t know how to express it—except through the lens of her camera.

“Alright,” she murmured, stepping back to her place behind the camera. “Let’s start.”

You took your position again, moving through the motions of posing—each one more natural than the last as you had grown used to the rhythm of these shoots. Ellie’s camera clicked rapidly, capturing each angle, each shift in expression. But her eyes, when she lowered the camera between shots, spoke of something more than just professionalism. There was an intensity, a quiet obsession that seemed to be growing every time she looked at you through that viewfinder.

“Ellie, is the camera still acting up?” you had asked, breaking the silence. Your tone was light, but the question carried weight.

She fumbled with the camera for a moment, her fingers awkwardly turning the settings as if distracted. “Yeah, just...it’s weird. I don’t know what’s going on with it.” But the way her voice faltered made it clear that wasn’t the truth. You could feel it in the air—the camera wasn’t the problem.

When she lowered the camera again, her gaze lingered, this time more open, less guarded. She studied you, not just through her equipment but in a way that felt personal, too personal for a professional relationship.

“You don’t have to keep pushing these extra sessions, you know. I think the shots are more than fine,” you had said, meeting her gaze directly for the first time. You weren’t accusing her, just...curious.

 At first, she had been quiet, distant even, but over time, that reserve melted away, replaced by an almost magnetic pull. You could see it in the way she always scheduled more shoots than needed, the way her presence lingered even after the sessions ended.

Ellie shifted her weight uncomfortably, biting her lower lip as she considered your words. “I—yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s just... I’m a bit of a perfectionist. Maybe I’ve been pushing it too much.”

There was a brief pause, filled with the ambient hum of the lights and the distant sound of traffic outside. You could leave it at that, but something in you wanted to dig deeper, to see what was really going on beneath the surface.

“Is that all it is?” you had asked softly, taking a step closer, breaking the professional boundary just enough to see how she reacted. Her breath hitched slightly, and her eyes flickered down for a moment before meeting yours again, this time with something like vulnerability.

“I don’t know,” Ellie admitted quietly, her voice almost a whisper now. “I guess I’ve just... I’ve really enjoyed working with you. A little too much, maybe.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her usual confident stance now awkward, almost exposed. “I didn’t want to make things weird, but...it’s hard not to look at you, you know? Not just for the job, but…”

The tension hung in the air between you two, a confession that had been building in the silence of every photoshoot, in every extra session that wasn’t really necessary. It felt heavy, yet it was something you had sensed for a while.

You took a breath, considering your words. There was a part of you that felt the weight of her attraction, her quiet, lingering fascination. But it wasn’t just a one-sided thing. You had seen the way Ellie opened up when she was around you—the subtle changes in her usually guarded demeanor, the way her humor slipped out in moments where the conversation stretched beyond work.

“I’ve noticed,” you replied, your voice more intimate. Ellie blinked, unsure how to respond.

She cleared her throat and stepped back, breaking eye contact for the briefest of moments, and then gestured to her camera again. “One more shot?” she asked, almost sheepishly. There was a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips now, a little more open, a little less guarded.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Yeah, alright. Just one more.”

Your moans echoed through the studio, mingling with the sounds of skin slapping against skin as Ellie’s hand gripped your ass, guiding you up and down on her strap. Each movement sending jolts of pleasure through you.

The air was thick with heat, the lingering scent of sweat mixing with leather. Ellie’s eyes were dark with hunger, filled with a desperate need that matched your own.

“So fucking good for me,” she huffed, her voice thick with lust, as she pushed you deeper. The weight of her body pressed against yours, every thrust igniting a spark of ecstasy that made you moan with pleasure.

“Keep going, baby,” she urged, her fingers digging into your flesh as she guided your movements. “You’re doing so well.” Her voice was a low, sultry whisper that wrapped around you, fueling the fire burning inside. You could feel her warmth, the heat radiating from her body making you dizzy.

“Ellie…” you gasped, the sound slipping from your lips as you sank down hard onto her strap, the pressure sending shockwaves of pleasure. The way she watched you, her eyes dark with lust, made your heart race faster. You loved the way she bit her lip, the way her breath hitched when you moved just right. It was intoxicating.

“Fuck,” she hissed, her breath coming out in short pants as you began to rock your hips, the rhythm becoming more frantic. 

“You’re taking it so well,” she praised, her voice thick with need. “So good for me-” But her words were cut off by her own moans, the sound spilling from her lips. 

Ellie leaned forward, her breath hot against your neck,“You like that, huh? Taking me so well,” she murmured, the words dripping along your skin. You nodded breathlessly, the pleasure overwhelming as you surrendered. ��Tell me how good it feels,” she urged, her voice low.

“It..feels s-so good, Ellie,” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer. “nghhh, soo g-good” Your voice trembled. 

She smiled, the corners of her mouth turning up in satisfaction as she increased the pace, thrusting deeper into you.

“God, you’re perfect,” Ellie breathed “So fucking good for me.”

Each thrust became more urgent, her body responding to yours with a need that took you both higher and higher. “Ellie, I’m—” you gasped, the feeling building to a breaking point, the tension in your body coiling tighter. But before you could finish, she captured your lips in a searing kiss, her mouth moving against yours with urgency.

“Let go for me, baby,” she whispered against your lips, the command mixing with the heat of her breath. “I want to feel you cum.”

With those words, the pressure within you shattered, waves of pleasure crashing over you in a violent rush. Your body seized, muscles tightening as the ecstasy enveloped you.  You cried out, the sound echoing in the studio, drowning in the sensation as you felt Ellie thrusting beneath you, her body responding to your every movement, your every gasp.

“Don’t stop,” she commanded, her voice dripping with urgency, a hint of desperation lacing her words. “I want to capture this.”

Before you could respond, she reached for her camera, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she adjusted the settings with quick, practiced movements. The sound of the shutter clicking filled the air. 

 “Just fucking look at you,” she said, positioning the camera to frame the shot perfectly.

With every snap, Ellie groaned, her breaths hitching as she focused on the way your body glistened with sweat, the remnants of pleasure coursing through you. Each shot captured the raw intimacy of the moment, the way you were sprawled against her, your skin flushed and radiating heat.

“God, I can’t get enough of this,” she panted, her voice thick with desire. “You’re perfect.” She shifted slightly, her hips still pressed against you as she adjusted the angle of the camera.

“Ellie-,” you gasped, feeling a thrill shoot through you as she continued to snap photos. 

She captured the way your body moved, the delicate curves, the flush of your cheeks, every angle showing the beauty she adored so much. “Fuuckk look at that,” she said breathlessly, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Can’t you just…” you began, but the words slipped away as Ellie leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear, the teasing closeness igniting a fire within you again. “Don’t be shy. Show me how much you love it.”

You responded instinctively, arching your back as you grinded against her. Ellie let out a soft whimper, her fingers tightening around the camera. “Just like that, baby,” she urged, a grin spreading across her face. “I want to see you lose yourself in this.”

The camera clicked again, the sound punctuating your movements as you rolled your hips against her, feeling the pressure build once more. Her eyes darkened with lust, a mix of admiration and obsession as she snapped shot after shot.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Ellie groaned, her voice thick with desire as she continued to photograph you. The way her body responded to yours sent shockwaves through you, igniting a heat within that you thought had already burned out.

You could feel your heartbeat quickening, a thrilling rush coursing through you as you realized how much she loved this. The camera flashed and with each click, Ellie’s own breaths became more ragged.

“Don’t stop moving,” she commanded, her voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You’re driving me-, nghhh.” You responded to her words, thrusting against her with renewed urgency, letting your body take over as the rhythm grew more frantic.

“Fuck, yes!” she groaned, the sound a mixture of pleasure and desperation. Her eyes were glued to the screen, capturing the moment as you began to ride once again. “You’re so good for me, baby.”

Ellie adjusted the angle of the camera, her free hand reaching out to caress your thigh, fingers tracing your skin with a featherlight touch that ignited every nerve. “God, I love how you move for me,” she panted, the words slipping from her lips.

“Ellie,” you gasped, losing yourself in the moment, the heat in your belly roaring with every thrust, every click of the camera. “I need you…”

“Just a little longer,” she urged, her voice strained but filled with a desperate longing.

“Ellie!” you cried out, the sound bursting from your lips as you moved against her, the need overwhelming you. The way she captured you, her hands roaming over your body, her eyes filled with awe and lust, made you feel alive in a way you never knew possible.

“Keep going, baby. You’re doing so good.” she encouraged, “I want to see you cum for me all over again.”

[gunwoos]

kim gun-woo relationship headcanons (sfw + nsfw)

a/n: warning these r random and disorganized 😭 also haven't written anything fanfic like in ages so sorry if these aren't the best!

he's such a gentleman/romantic

i feel like getting into a relationship with him, you're either childhood friends with him or u guys become friends when the whole smile capital stuff starts and u slowly realize ur feelings for each other.

even tho he's shy i honestly see him confessing his feelings for u unless ur the one to do it first.

he's very timid/shy especially for the first few weeks u guys are dating

he's just so nervous and really likes u and doesn't wanna mess anything up

when he opens up and gets 100% used to the relationship stuff it's amazing tho

i don't think he'd be super into pda like he'd definitely hold ur hand, sling an arm around u, and hug u in public, maybe even give u a quick kiss but anything more than that he's saving for when ur alone

his love language is definitely a mix of gift giving and physical touch (maybe acts of service too i can't decide)

gives the best hugs. he's so tall and sweet and his MUSCLES. will hug u from behind while ur doing stuff too and put his chin on your head/shoulder

he LOVES having u at his matches, especially if it's a tournament. you're like his good luck charm (he's good regardless of whether or not ur there but it's sweet ok)

or if he's just having a normal practice or training session he loves having u there to watch and support him

we all know he's an early riser and likes to workout / go for runs in the morning. he always invites u to go and if u actually agree he's over the moon

even if u barely participate or give up partway through he's just so happy ur there with him

loves when u wear his clothes. especially if u guys live together he's got that mindset of "my things r yours too"

he loves seeing u in his jackets, shirts, sweaters etc. especially if ur shorter/smaller than him he finds it's so cute

also if u guys r out and u forget to wear a jacket he won't even hesitate to give u his. like u go to mention that it's kinda chilly out and he already has his jacket off and is putting it over ur shoulders

his mom absolutely loves u. we all know he's a mommas boy so he's just so happy seeing u guys interact and get along so well

i see him being very traditional. pays for ur meals if u go out to eat, opens doors for u, my mind is blank thinking of other examples but he's just so sweet and such a gentleman

woojin third wheels u guys all the time. geonwoo is his bestfriend and he lowkey sulks when u guys hangout without him

i feel like unless u were already friends with woojin before u started dating geonwoo he'd give u a hard time at first. he's all like "i was here first 😒"

but eventually he warms up to u and u guys would be besties

u and woojin probably bicker a lot (playfully) and geonwoo just loves that u guys get along well enough to joke with each other. he just kinda watches u bicker back and forth like "😊" and doesn't interfere unless one of u brings him into it

he's definitely protective but just in a way that he wants to keep u safe, he's very secure and he knows he's strong and that he can protect u if he needs to

he also knows that u can handle urself tho, especially if ur a boxer like him

this man is cuddly. any cuddling position is perfect to him like he'll be big spoon, little spoon, whatever but i feel like he'd especially love just falling asleep with his head on your chest

idk if he'd be into pet names but i think he'd call u "babe, baby, honey, sweetie" or some kinda nickname based off of your name

nsfw under ⬇️

this man can be TIMID especially for the first few months of ur relationship when u guys do stuff. like believe me he wants to just as much as u do but he would never wanna make u uncomfortable so he waits for u to initiate stuff for a little while

checks on u like every 2 minutes and before doing anything "is this ok?" "are u sure?" "can i __?"

i feel like he's definitely very traditional or "vanilla" in bed, i don't see him being kinky or liking it rough or anything like that but if ur into that kinda stuff he'd probably be open to experimenting

such a giver. don't get me wrong he loves receiving, but u would definitely have to initiate it he'll never ask u to

as i said before this man is a giver. he gives and gives and gives

this man would happily die between your thighs. i'm telling u he's obsessed with eating u out. he doesn't care abt his pleasure as much, he just wants u to feel good

this man just goes straight in too. he's like "can i?" and as soon as u say yes he's slinging ur legs over his shoulders and diving in

he's so good at it too like. he makes it his goal in life to know what u like and what u dislike and that includes in the bedroom. he makes mental notes in his head of everything and the reactions u have to stuff so he can improve for later

if u do give him head, he's total putty in ur hands. anything u do and the fact that it's you doing this to him just makes it 10x better. he makes sure to return the favour after

lowkey has a praise kink, giving and receiving. when u tell him how good he's doing he just melts he loves it

is big on eye contact. he likes how intimate it is and the non-verbal reassurance from it

likes holding hands or having your hands in his hair

he whimpers. i don't think he'd be very vocal but when he realizes u like it when he is he tries to be a bit more open and do it more

loves kissing u during it and just peppering kisses all over u. i don't think he'd leave hickeys unless u asked him to tho

this man has stamina. we all know he's super athletic so he's prepared to go for as many rounds as u feel up to

he's also very gentle. he's strong and knows his own strength and would never wanna hurt u or be rough with u

he's just so sweet i cant even

[sirenfromthelostcity]

Snowed In Part 2 [Modern! Mizu x Reader]

Ngl y’all I was really touched by the amount of ppl asking for the proposal scene lol. I was a little worried that maybe the blurb was like too fluffy but I'm really glad you guys liked it, ya big softies lol (but same). This came out a little longer than i anticipated but i was just adding some stuff to add to your relationship and i reeaaalllyy hope you guys like it <3 Also I think i might do one more lil part just to involve the rest of the crew and their reaction to the news so stay tuned for that as well.

Part 1!

Although your anniversary dinner plans were ruined by the snow, it was impossible to remain upset. After all how could one be upset when they're being comfortably held in the arms of their lover watching one of your favorite shows together?

Admittedly you did suggest your bedroom when Mizu asked if you wanted watch something after dinner but she was rather insistent on making it a living room activity. So there you both were, laid together on a makeshift bed of various pillows and blankets in the middle of your living room floor. The lights were low, Mizu was warm and the snowfall was the perfect romantic backdrop.

"Y'know," you started, "this day did not go how we had planned at all but honestly I can't imagine a better way to spend our anniversary together," you contentedly sighed.

"That makes two of us," Mizu snuggled you closer and planted a kiss on your head. "But the night isn't over yet."

She gently moved to get up from her position and you pouted at her for ending your cuddling session.

"I'm getting up to get your gift," she laughed.

"Oh right! I'll go get yours too." you quickly paused your show as you both retreated for your gifts.

Once both you and Mizu retrieved your gifts you both returned to your makeshift bed and sat across from each other. Mizu decided to go first and handed you a large gift bag. Your eyes widened in both joy and surprise as you pull out a designer bag that you've been trying to acquire for a long time.

"Oh my God, Mizu! This is sold out everywhere how did you get this?"

"I know people," she smugly shrugged her shoulders.

"Akemi?"

"Actually believe it or not... Taigen."

"Taigen?! You worked together with Taigen for my gift?" you eyes widened again. Mizu and Taigen weren't enemies per say but they definitely very easily got on each other's nerves, however it was mostly banter. Mostly.

"Yeah despite him being Taigen, he can be quite useful sometimes and I know how long you've been hunting for this bag."

"Oh honey, thank you. I really appreciate it and I love it," you lean towards her to give her a gentle kiss before putting the purse back in the gift bag and setting it aside.

Excitedly you reached for your gift and handed it to Mizu. It was a smaller bag and the first thing Mizu pulled out from it was her favorite perfume.

"I was just running low on this, thank you babe," Mizu smiled at you but you informed her there was one more gift for her in the bag. She dug back in and pulled out a small rectangular red velvet box. Carefully she opened it and in it was a beautiful gold heart pendant. She was in awe of the craftsmanship. You prompted her to flip it to the back and engraved on the heart read the words "Forever Yours" with your initials right below it.

“You have my heart," you said to her. "Promise to keep it safe?”

“With my life,” she looked back up at you. “Baby I love it thank you so much,” she practically leaped over from her spot to envelope you in a hug.

“I’m glad you like it,” you chuckled into the crook of her neck.

When Mizu broke away she quickly went to put on the necklace but you insisted on aiding her. With one hand she held up her long hair and turned to allow you access to put on the necklace. Once it was on she went to observe it again, as if she couldn’t stop admiring it.

“Can you take me to where you had this made so I can make one for you too?” She asked, still looking at the pendant.

"Really?" you asked, your excitement shinning though.

“Yeah,” she smiled at you. “I have your heart and I want you to have mine.”

Overjoyed at her words, you leaned in and kissed her both softly and ardently.

“I’d really like that too. I can take you next week yeah?”

Mizu nodded and leaned back in to continue the kiss. Passion flowed within you both and the kiss became needier. This time you took the initiative and without breaking the kiss you gently pushed Mizu to lie on her back. Your free hand reached to cradle Mizu's face, effectively deepening the kiss. Mizu almost allowed herself to get lost in it but when she felt the small ring box poke at her hip she was brought back to her objective . Gently, she broke free from the kiss.

"Is everything okay?" you asked, slightly alarmed.

"Yeah I just... have to use the bathroom."

"Oh okay," you rolled onto the side to allow Mizu to get up. "I'll wait for you to come back to continue the show."

"Nah no need. Continue without me I'll be quick," Mizu reached for the remote and pressed play on your show before seemingly heading towards the bathroom connected to your room.

In actuality Mizu just wanted you distracted and not focused on how long she'd be gone. She had all her materials for the proposal packed in two of her gym bags but she wanted it all to look perfect and that could take some time.

After about 15 minutes you started to get a little worried and when you tried to enter your room to access the bathroom you realized your room door is locked.

"Hey babe are you okay?” you knocked at the door.

“Yeah! I’m almost out just looking for something," Mizu tried to sound casual but her tone definitely sounded a little panicked which did nothing to ease your composure.

“Do you need help looking for it?”

“No it’s okay! I’ll be out soon.”

You did have a spare key for your room in case you were ever accidentally locked out of it. The thought did occur to you to go get it but something to just give Mizu a little more time. After about 5 more minutes, she finally comes out of your room.

“Found what you’re looking for?”

Mizu nodded. "I have one more surprise for you," from behind she pulled out a black blindfold and immediately you're intrigued.

"Well if it involves that blindfold then I'm liking it already."

Mizu laughed at your response before extending her hand to help you stand up. Carefully she wrapped the blindfold over your eyes and guided you into your shared room. Immediately you're greeted with warmer temperature and the soft scent of roses. Slowly Mizu removed the blindfold.

Your room was lit with strategically placed candles and littered with red and pink rose petals. Placed purposefully on the bed was a box of your favorite chocolate and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The scene was so intimate and warm. You even caught sight of a small fire extinguisher so you know Mizu really thought this out.

"Oh my god, Mizu this is..." the remainder of your sentence got stuck on your throat when you turned to thank Mizu and saw her propped on one knee holding out a box with a diamond ring.

Immediately your eyes began to tear up, overcome with the realization of what was happening. Instinctively your hand went to cover your mouth but a small overjoyed sob managed to escape from you.

"(Y/N)," Mizu started with glossy eyes as she too struggled to hold back her happy tears. "I have never loved anyone the way that I love you. For a long time I didn't even think this kind of love was actually real, until I met you. I love waking up to you every single day and I've learned to love and appreciate life more since you've allowed me to enter yours. You just make me so fucking happy," she sniffled. "I didn't think it was possible to be as happy and feel as safe with being happy as you've made me feel. Being with you made me feel like I was so easy to love and I want to dedicate the rest of my life ensuring you feel the same way. Will you allow me the greatest honor imaginable, will you marry me?"

"Yes of course I'll marry you!" you cried and wrapped your arms around her in a fervent embrace.

You both cried into each other, so full of love and absolute happiness. You pulled back from the hug and leaned in to share your first kiss as an engaged couple. It was a salty kiss as the tears are still fresh on both of your faces but neither of you cared.

You extended your left hand to Mizu and she happily slid the ring onto your finger.

“Perfect fit,” she smiled.

“It’s so pretty,” you admired the gem, it truly did cater to your taste. “Babe, it’s perfect you made such a good selection.”

“I like to think I know you well enough to pick out a ring you’d like, now I’m glad to know I’m right,” she lightly chuckled as she snaked a hand around your waist and snuggled you closer to her.

“We’re engaged now,” you mumbled as Mizu started planting kisses on your temple, the feeling of euphoria still coursing through you. “You’re my fiancé.”

“And soon you’ll be my wife,” she added, grasping your left hand in hers and tenderly rubbing at your ring finger. “Then we‘ll just have forever together.”

“Forever together,” you whispered as you leaned into the crook of her neck. “I love the sound of that.”

A/N: if the ending looks a lil weird font wise is bc I had to copy from my notes app bc I had previously wrote something and it didn’t save on the draft 🙃. Ngl I’m feeling a bit iffy about this but i really hope you guys enjoyed the read! 💗

Edit: I forgot to say but feel free to change what Mizu gifts you, like if you’re not into designer bags then ofc yeah just substitute what you want. It’s kinda hard to write what gift to get you bc ppl are diff like not everyone is gonna like the same thing 😂

[kaiser-s-bitch]

a/n: dedicated to my dear @sugarkage >:))

———

Nagi Seishiro - fluff hcs || sfw

• Nagi is a very passive guy when it comes to literally anything he’s not interested in, but if he engages in something that he is interested in, you will not be able to drag him away from it - video games, for the most part

• which, however, makes him the perfect boyfriend if you’re into games too, cause if you can’t beat em… join em!!

• gaming together with you is his idea of ideal quality time, so don’t underestimate how much those joined gaming sessions mean to him even if it feels like he’s not giving you much attention

• Nagi loves just having you close to him, even while gaming he just has to have some body part of his touching you; will throw his heavy ass legs over you and keep them there no matter how much you complain, if you don’t want that to happen you better sit or lay down in his lap first

• will often make deals/bets with you, mainly along the lines of "Whoever loses the next game has to get up to make us dinner/get some takeout"; though he usually only brings that up if he’s confident he’ll win (and if he loses after all, he’ll definitely start bargaining lol)

• if you don’t know how to cook or you can’t be bothered to eat healthily, then you and Nagi would both decay due to fast/instant food overload in your cave, if it wasn’t for Reo making or having good food delivered on your behalf (he’s complaining a lot about it but he keeps helping out, you’re both his baby chicks now)

• Nagi enjoys cuddling you a lot, it combines two of his favorite things: 1) being comfy and doing basically nothing and 2) having your smaller form snuggled up to him is like, having his personal plushy

• as for the position, Nagi enjoys spooning a lot; whether he’s the big or small spoon doesn’t matter to him, both is comfy af (though it’s kinda strange to call this moose of a man "small" in any way-)

• something that Nagi frequently does is taking one of his oversized hoodies and pulling it over both himself and you, that way you’re literally glued to this huge, lazy cuddle monster and can’t get up or move too much

• he won’t pick you up if he’s the one that has to get up though, he’ll just tell you you’re too heavy even if you’re like, a third of his weight (don’t take it personal, it’s just too much of a hassle to carry you)

• this man ALWAYS sleeps in, unless he has soccer practice (though I feel like he might still miss it occasionally if it’s too early in the morning lmao)

• will get very grumpy if you, aka his personal plushy, wrestle yourself out of his iron grip because you have to get up early for work

• half asleep, he might just pull you back down and bury you under his weight to keep you in place, mumbling for you to stop moving - good luck escaping that

• the only way to escape is giving him lots of kisses all over and promising him more cuddles and kisses for when you’re back; he will actually hold you to that so you better not forget

• though it’s not like he would let you forget, cause once you’re back home, this overgrown baby will hug you and lean himself against you, causing you to fall onto the couch with him on top

• there’s absolutely no way out of that one now, but who are you to complain?

———

p.s.: authentic baby chick Nagi

[hoseoks-reader]

HIS FIRST TIME - JUNG HOSEOK

Don't copy or repost on other accounts. Y/N - your name

Genre romance, established relationship, shy hoseok. Warnings sexual content (oral giving and receiving, penetration) Word-count 2,6k, one-shot.

Synopsis Y/N and Hoseok had been in a relationship for a while now, yet Hoseok never seemed to go all the way with Y/N.

You and Hoseok had been in a relationship for about 3 months now. You were his first relationship ever since he debuted back in 2013. You were close to him and the boys, having known them for 5 years now. You were staying in his apartment, waiting for him to come back from his dance practice of the day. You were chilling in the sofa when you heard the front door. You looked over at the entrance and saw your boyfriend walk in, his bag over his shoulder and his hair falling into his forehead.

Hoseok: Hey babe (he said, disposing of his bag and sitting on the couch with you, pecking your lips). Y/N: Hey (you reply, laying a leg over his lap), how was your day? Hoseok: Tiring, but fun. What about your day? Y/N: I mostly missed you. Happy you're finally here (you added, shifting to seat on his lap).

You were face to face with him. You analyzed every detail on his face, your thumb caressing his right cheek. His eyes were staring into yours, attentive to your every move.

Hoseok: Are you gonna kiss me or are you gonna keep staring?

You smiled and closed the gap between the two of you. Your lips danced together, and you had your tongue asking for permission to enter his mouth in no time. His hands were in your hips, and you felt him fighting the urge to grab your bottom. You hadn't been intimate yet, and you always felt him very restrained when you were making out, but you never questioned it, so you always put yourself through the hot sessions, always ending soaked and in need of his touch. You had sex with two other people in the past and you weren't afraid to go for it. It was his attitude that made you stop every time.

He always cut the make out sessions before going any forward and you felt him kind of shaky under your touch, so you never pushed it. But this time something else was different.

Hoseok: Y/N… (he said, his heavy breath against your lips, making you shiver). I need to tell you something. Y/N: Yeah? (you looked at him more seriously now) Hoseok: I really want to go further with you. And I think you want it too…? Y/N: I do hobi. But I don't want to do anything that you don't feel like doing. Hoseok: I feel like doing it (he said, nearly shuttering, and you could feel his bulge right beneath you). I just need to let you know that I've never done it before… and I know you have, and you probably have… I don't know, expectations that I won't meet and-

Y/N: Stop. The only expectation I have is for you to be honest with me, and you did that right now, so I appreciate it. I love you Jung Hoseok. There isn't a single thing in this world I wouldn't do with you. Hoseok: I love you too. Thank you for the reassurance. I did get "prepared". For… you know… whenever we would do it (you looked at him with a curious look, encouraging him to go on). I did some research… and got what we needed and… Y/N: You did research (you asked giggling, making him pout). No, but that's really cute. I'd be happy to show you things but that's also helpful. Hoseok: You can still show me though.

He started kissing you again, his hands on your smaller back. You kissed him back, your hands touching his, encouraging him to go lower. His hands grasped your ass, a soft moan leaving your mouth and your hands raising up to entangle his hair. He kissed you back harshly, need visible on his touch and his sweatpants. You couldn't help but to start grinding against him. His hands lost their way, all of a sudden covering every bit of your body. You were breathless under his touch and against his mouth. You broke the kiss to drive your lips through his jawline, climbing up to his ear where you nibbled at it. You then got lower, planting mouth open kisses all over his neck. His head fell back, a groan leaving his throat as your hips continually straddled him, applying pressure to where he needed you the most.

Hoseok: Jagi- (he panted before your mouth was back on his). If you keep doing that (he said in between kissing you) l-I'm gonna cum in my pants. G-god you're hot. Y/N: I'd rather have you do that in my mouth (you said, grinning against his mouth). Matter of fact I will if you let me. I'll get you back up for round two in no time. Hoseok: Shit- okay (he didn't fight you on it, feeling completely dazzled by your confidence).

You smiled at him, pecking his lips one last time before getting down on your knees, your hands pulling at his sweatpants. He helped with pulling them down and he sighted in relief of no longer being strained. You had his dick right in front of you, plus his eyes resting attentively on your motions.

Y/N: Get your hand all over my hair. And don't pull away from me if you get close okay? Let it go.

Your words made him curse, and as soon as your tongue softly covered the bottom to the tip, he skipped a breath. Your mouth worked him up even more, if that was possible. You ran your hands on his thighs and ended up grabbing his shaft by the base of it, while you slowly sank down on him.

Hoseok: God-Fuck Y/N-ie baby-

You struggled not to giggle at his genuine reactions, his hands grasping fiercely at your hair as if his life depended on it. You continued your ministrations mercilessly as his hips started bucking up to meet your movements, continuously hitting the back of your throat. Good thing you had a hold of your gag reflex. His moans and heavy breathing filled the room, as well as the sound of your wet mouth rushing through his dick. All of his reactions were driving you crazy as you felt yourself more drenched than ever. You had thought about this before and how hot he would look like all fucked out. But you never thought it would be THIS hot.

Hoseok: Jagi- (he said in between heavy breaths, his eyes screwed shut and head fallen back), I'm really fucking close. Please please please don't stop- shit

You started moving even faster than before if that was possible, his moaning growing louder and erratic, both his hands all over your hair. You felt him twitch in your mouth and as soon as the liquid touched your tongue, you slowed down and gave him slow and strong strokes, dragging his orgasm and making it even more intense. Once you felt him grow sensitive at your touch you pulled back, sitting back up on his lap, arms around his neck.

Y/N: Was that nice (you asked, a soft and proud smile on your face as you saw your boyfriend with a very satisfied look on his face)? Hoseok: Was that ni- fuck, nice? That was amazing. Y/N: Hmhm (you giggle softly, pecking his lips), should we go to the bedroom? Hoseok: Please (he said getting up with you in his lap, leaving his pants behind).

You kissed him and pulled out his shirt right before he threw you into his bed. He kissed your neck leaving a few marks, making you moan under his touch. You signaled him to take your shirt off, which he did, just to then stop to stare at your velvet black bra. While he was focused on it, you unclip your bra and take it off, making him swallow hard. You felt him a little shaky on top of you and you kissed him softly. He melted into the kiss, and you felt him getting more comfortable and ease into your touch again. He stopped the kiss while his hand travelled to your jean's button.

Hoseok: Can I… go down on you? Guide me. Y/N: I think you should start by taking off my pants ahah. Hoseok: Y-yeah obviously.

He giggled in between kisses as he worked on unbuttoning your jeans. Once he managed to do it, you helped him by raising your lower body so he could pull the rest of your clothes down. He then proceeded to lower himself, putting his face right in front of your core. You felt his shaky breath meet your center, sending shivers down your spine.

Y/N: Do you know where you need to touch or? Hoseok: I think I know. I saw like- a drawing. Y/N: I wish I was a fly at the time you did your research. Hoseok: Hey don't mock me! Y/N: I'm not baby, I just find it cute. Hoseok: I just wanted to have somewhat of an idea of what to do, but ended up looking things up for 4 hours.

You were about to tease him but he planted a kiss right on your clit, sending shivers don't your spine.

Y/N: Okay- you're in the right spot (you said out of breath, the lack of pressure as he waited for your reassurance making your center hurt out of need), now you can either flick your tongue or literally french kis- oh shit

You got lost in your words as soon as he started circling his tongue. "Is there a single muscle this man doesn't know how to use?", you thought to yourself.

Y/N: Get your hands on me as well please- (you said, your back already arched and your hads tugging at the sheets)

He did as you told him, inserting two fingers inside of you softly, deadly slow. You didn't know if it was the fact you hadn't touch yourself in over a week or if he was incredibly talented, maybe it was both. All you knew was he was playing you like a muppet, all the strings being pulled were sending you through waves of pleasure you had never felt. He started curling his fingers, his mouth now kissing your core as if it was your own mouth. He stopped for a second, only his fingers moving still,

Hoseok: Is this okay? Y/N: Better than okay. (you barely got the words out and your hips were now doing most of the work for his hand) Please continue (you encouraged his head back down with your hand, your fingers getting lost in his dark hair).

You felt him smirk proudly against your thighs as he kissed them before getting back to eating you out. His fingers got dangerously fast as his tongue kept driving you mad. You hadn't noticed how loud you were getting until you felt yourself so close you begged him not to stop.

Y/N: Baby- don't stop, right there-

You let out a groan so loud you almost felt instantly embarrased. Your hips out of control rolling against his face, pulling his hair with one hand and the other getting a good hold of your own breasts as the orgasm took over your entire body. After he was done, Hoseok got up and lied next to you, waiting for you to calm down.

Y/N: Holy shit Jung Hoseok, what the fuck was that (you said panting, and he rolled on his side to face you, a grin on his face). If that was you without any experience, I'm scared of what it will be like when you do have experience. Hoseok: I'm just glad I did it right. Not gonna lie I was worried.

You looked at him and laid on your side. His hand landed on your waist and yours on his neck, pulling him closer to you. You crashed your lips into his and felt his erection against your stomach. Your hand grabbed his shaft, pumping it slowly, making him moan into the kiss.

Hoseok: Jagi- I have- condoms on that nightstand (he said in between kisses, you reached out and took a condom out). Y/N: Do you want me to put it on you? Hoseok: Yeah, please (he replied, his eyes dark with lust as he watched your every move). Your touch drives me insane (he added as you adjusted him to the condom, applying just the right pressure). Y/N: I love you (you climbed to his lap, immediately pecking his lips). Hoseok: I love you too (he placed his hands on your hips).

You aligned your entrance with his dick, ready to sink into him. You looked at him with an interrogative look and he nodded. As soon as his tip entered you, you skipped a breath, and when he was fully inside you, you let out a dragged moan as you lock eyes with him. His arms wrapped around your waist, his face filled with lust and his groans growing louder as you started moving faster. You were so lost in each other that you didn't realize how hard the bed was hitting the wall.

Your moans were instigating his, and his groans only made you scream louder. Your hips were meeting his movements, making him hit places you didn't know could be reached before.

Hoseok: Fuck, let me get on top of you.

He didn't give you any time to react, he flipped you until he was on top, never getting himself out of you. And that's when you lost it. He was fully in control now, his hips rolling mercilessly and thrusting into you. You didn't know what to do with yourself but to scream his name and let your hands wander around his back and his hair, which only seemed to motivate him. He felt himself getting close to his release so he slowly stopped, not wanting to end it just yet.

Y/N: A rapper's tongue and a dancer's hip… you're gonna be the death of me (you kiss him and clench around him, making him moan into the kiss). Hoseok: If you keep doing that I'm not gonna be able to stop myself from cuming jagi- ah (you clenched around him again, and he buried his head on your shoulder, moaning into your ear and sending shivers down your spine).

He didn't spare you after that. He pulled himself together, resting his forehead on yours and letting his hand slip to your clit. You gasped and his mouth crashed into yours, your fingers digging into his back. The second he let go of your mouth you started moaning his name recklessly, leaving him more turned on if that was even possible.

Hoseok: I'm not cuming until you do baby. Come o-fuck I'm really close. Y/N: Me too baby, fuck I'm gonna cum all over you-ooh-shit Hoseok-

You started clenching around him as you came, throwing him over the edge with you, your name continuously falling from his mouth.

Once you both came down from your highs he rolled to your side. You found him panting, staring at the ceiling, and you took the condom off of him, giving it a knot and putting it on the nightstand. You planted kisses all over his chest, climbing up to his neck and finally his mouth. He kissed you back, wrapping his arms around, one hand on your lower back and the other one on the back of your head. Once you broke the kiss, his eyes rested attentively on yours, a soft smile forming.

Hoseok: I love you. So fucking much. Y/N: I love you. Hoseok: I can't wait to do that again. Y/N: Ahahahah (he pouted). Me too though. Hoseok: I'm glad I did this with you. And I'm glad I did research. You looked insanely hot while I was eating you out huh. Y/N: Look who's getting all bold. You're not forgetting who got all fucked out first right?

[cowboy-lover69]

Ghostface Valentines day headcanons

(Minor NSFW ahead 18+ only)

(1,325 words)

Billy Loomis

--- Billy is not a fan of the holiday in general, but he can't just ignore it since he is dating and wants to do something for you.

--- Billy is not good with personalized gifts, unless you guys have been dating for a long time he is not really sure what to get you. Usually he will get you flowers and a stuffed animal or a piece of jewelry

--- Billy likes to take you on a date if he can. Usually it's a restaurant or maybe a surprise window visit to your house at night. Whatever it is on valentines day he likes you to be around you  and tries his best to at least spend a little bit of time with you.

--- on Valentine's Day he likes to surprise you with smaller things outside of his bigger gift and date, whether it's smaller gifts or buying you food among other things. He just likes just seeing your reaction.

Stu Macher 

--- stu LOVES valentines day, outside of him enjoying the romantic festivities and also gives him the excuse to have a grotesque amount of sex, I mean it’s not like he doesn't already but now he has an excuse. 

--- he likes to plan ahead when getting you gifts. He's not very good at gift giving so he will subtly ask you what you want or at least try to be subtle. If he does not know what to get you he will resort to a stuffed animal. 

--- he likes to take you to the amusement park on Valentine's Day because he thinks it's so much more fun than a normal date, and he likes to win you stuff.

--- stu doesn't really expect that much in return he does appreciate when you get him things though which you often do. Outside of the gifts you usually give him you and he often has sex later at night on the holiday, very special Valentine's Day sex. He will often break out the candles and make everything very fancy when you guys do have sex.

Mickey Alteri 

--- he's pretty neutral on the holiday but he loves you so he usually ends up doing stuff with you.

--- gift-wise he thinks he knows you pretty well, so he doesn't really ask what you want and just kind of wings it. He doesn't always land the gift. There have been a few mess-ups, but he has a higher chance to get something you like than not.

--- he doesn't go all out of dates a lot of the time he just comes over and you two hangouts. If he does do something outside of the house, you guys go to the theater or out somewhere fun like an arcade. 

--- he's very touchy in general when you guys are dating, but on valentines he's VERY touchy he's practically attached to you on the hip he's always touching you whether he is kissing you or holding you close.

Roman Briger

--- Roman really likes valentines day, he likes to use it to show off his wealth to you. He likes to feel admired by you.

--- he loves to spoil you on valentines day, he buys you lots of things basically anything you ask for he will buy for you. Even without you asking he buys you many things such as jewelry, stuffed animals, flowers etc.  

--- he likes to keep things more lowkey when you guys go out for a date on valentines day. Well his lowkey is going to the most fancy restaurant in town for a nice dinner. 

--- on valentines day he’s really big on romantic gestures. Like opening the door for you, kissing your hand and generally taking care of you since as much as he wants you to admire him. He also admires and loves you and he wants to show it.

--- sometimes after you guys go on your guy's date, he will book a hotel for a long-interrupted sex session. He would do it at his house, but he likes a spicier feeling of a hotel setting, even though he hates the beds.  

Jill Roberts 

--- she doesn't like valentine's day that much, she finds the holiday unnecessary since she's not the romantic type well she is just in more subtle ways. She doesnt go all out for the holiday but she's dating you so she decides to participate. 

--- she's very perceptive when it comes to gifting, she pays attention to every little thing you do and say so she's pretty good in the gift department. She never tells you you're getting a gift so she can surprise you, but it never works because you always see it coming, since she gets you a gift every valentines day, but you always act surprised because you know she likes it.

--- she likes dates but on valentines dates she likes to keep it lowkey since most places are very busy and she likes having alone time with you. You guys tend to end up watching a movie and hanging out on the couch. Sometimes she just suggests hanging out at home because she wants to sleep with you but she would never tell you that.

Charlie Walker

--- charlie likes valentines day since he likes a reason to hangout with more than he already does. 

--- charlie doesn't really get you anything for valentines day besides his love of course. He finds he is a little too broke to really get you anything he would like to get you. If he does get you anything it be small or a handmade gift like a card or flowers he picked etc.

--- date-wise Charlie likes to keep things low-key for Valentine's Day. He often invites you over to binge the stab movies and make out among other things of course but mostly that.

Amber Freeman

--- amber likes to do things for valentines day. She doesn't really like the holiday herself but she likes the opportunity to treat you to what she can provide.

--- amber near the beginning of your guys relationship around valentines day she would not know what to get you but she would try, at some point she stopped trying to get a good gift for you and started getting pretty stander gifts stuffed animals mostly, but sometimes she still does try and she doesn't always fail.

--- you guys don’t really do anything date-wise for valentines since both of you prefer staying at home and hanging out, maybe even inviting over a few friends to hangout as well as a sort of double date. 

Ethan Landry 

--- ethan really likes valentines day, but most of the time forgets about its existence until the day of even then sometimes he doesn't remember, until you remind him.

--- he always scrambles to get gifts for you if he doesn't remember to get you one ahead of time, which most of the time he doesn't. Most of the time he gives you something he already owns like a book he likes for some of his clothes.

--- date-wise he never really has anything planned most of the time you guys go to a movie if there's any good ones playing. If there isn't you guys go hangout at the arcade or at home. Since neither of you take the holiday too seriously.

Quinn Bailey

--- Quinn really likes Valentine's day, she loves the opportunity to hang out with you and treat you and likes seeing you happy.

--- Quinn doesn't really get you gifts specifically for the holiday besides maybe a card, she likes to buy you things when you guys go out on dates for the holiday.  

--- Quinn really likes to take you shopping for the holiday mostly at the mall and she likes to try her best and pay for what she can for you.

--- at the end of the day she takes you home and you two most likely have sex. She finds a good way to end Valentine's Day or at least for her a good way.

the masterlist

[glasses-drunk]

Actually while I have you here if you have any advice for learning the bass that's a thing I'm trying to do :]

well for starters the same general advice for any instrument also works for the bass. the most important would be practice as often as you feel comfortable and try to have fun. along with that you should try to listen to the kinds of songs you'd like to play and try to isolate the sound of the bass and really focus on what they're doing and how it affects the music.

I personally believe the bass is an instrument that exists to give music feeling, and in order to do that you need to be able to feel the music yourself. I like to really try to get into a groove when I practice/play, it helps keep things fun even when you're doing exercises that aren't very fun themselves.

and speaking of exercises, do finger exercises!!!!! how you play is heavily influenced by the genre you play but all kinds of bass playing requires finger strength and dexterity on at least your left hand. if you're not sure what kinds of exercises to do, you can look up some basic ones on youtube and try them out. I recommend what I call "fret ladders" (idk what they're actually called but I call them that cause you move your fingers along the frets, one finger per fret, up and down the fret board) they really help with loosening up your hand and helps strengthen and improve mobility in all your fingers, especially the two smaller fingers. I try to do exercises like that for about 5-10 minutes before playing, every session. you can do more and I would recommend doing more if you're just starting out.

Other than that, youtube tutorials (song specific ones) and "play along" type videos can help too but they arent for everyone.

I'm sure I missed something but that's about all I can think of at the moment :3

[chrisevansonly]

Helping Hand

Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

Summary: Chris really loves to workout in your home gym, especially since the pandemic and virus season, he loved the idea of having his own workout space all to himself. Funny enough when you can’t find your three year old daughter Arlie, check the gym, and you might find her attached to her dad’s hip

Warnings: non, straight pure fluffy dad Chris, sassy Arlie

A/N: Baby Arlie is back to making an appearance!! I adore this pairing so much it rots my teeth, I think I’m going to divide my masterlist and add a Dad!Chris/ Dad + Arlie Section, let me know what you think, this one may be a little shorter, hopefully not horrible lmao but happy reading!!

Word Count: 846

Little Arlie girl was the epitome of her father’s shadow, following him around whenever and wherever she could, especially now that she was walking more and handling stairs better. That wasn’t to say you and Chris didn’t still watch her like a hawk in case she needed a hand or fell, but she was getting more and more independent every day. It was often days like today when Chris was off in your home gym completing his daily workout, whether it was legs, chest or arms, Arlie always found a way to weasel her little self into the gym to be with her daddy. So when you called her name for snack time and didn’t get a response, you made your way into the den where you’d left her last only to find her colouring book open and water bottle where she left it on the coffee table. 

“That little bug…”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly knowing just how good of an escape artist she was, so you tidied her markers up and walked your way down the hall and to the steps leading into the basement. When you opened the door, you could hear her giggles and little squeals as she and Chris worked through their weight session together

“I stronger than you daddy!”

The sight at the bottom of the stairs bringing a smile to your face, she had her set of dumbbells, which weighed virtually nothing in her hands, while Chris was on his back, two green and yellow weights on his chest to keep him to the floor

“I think you certainly are dove, I think I need some help!”

Arlie put her weights down and placed her tiny hands on her hips in a superman like pose and sighed 

“I help you on one ‘dition daddy.”

You laughed at her shortened version of the word condition, because it was just the cutest thing in the world listening to her learning and practicing new words. At the sound of your laugh Arlie looked to you and clapped 

“Hi mommy!!”

Chris smiled too, practically identical to your little girl 

“Yeah, hi mommy”

“Hi you two, what’s going on down here?”

Arlie cocked her hip to the side, the sass with her was off the charts, Chris never failing to let you know it comes from you

“I doing the lifties thing with daddy, an’ he not strong ‘nough to hold my colour sticks”

Colour sticks, what she called her dumbbells, despite you attempting to teach her the word, it would forever be known as colour sticks to you and your husband

“Oh, I see, so are you gonna help him bug?”

“Mhm, I got one ‘dition first mommy”

You chuckled sitting down with the two of them on the floor, watching her as she began waving her arms around 

“What’s that baby?”

“Well, I wanna watch cartoon and have two cookies!”

Chris pretended to think about it for a few moments, closing his eyes before letting out a dramatic sigh and holding his hand out to Arlie

“Okay Arlie girl, you got yourself a deal.”

“Deal daddy!”

She wrapped her much smaller hands around his larger one and shook with all her toddler strength before grabbing the dumbbells off his chest. Chris immediately took her in his arms and sat up covering her face in kisses while the room filled with the sounds of her laughter and now yours mixed in together. Moments like these making you take a mental snapshot watching the two people you loved most experiencing life together

“Alright my little gym crazies, how about we go upstairs for some snacks?”

After a collective cheer of yesses, the three of you made your way upstairs where Arlie got comfy in her chair at the island, and you and Chris stood in front of her, smiles on both of your faces as she munched away on some apples and peanut butter, her current favourite obsession

“Hey daddy?”

Chris finished chewing one a slice of the apple you’d also given him before answering her 

“Yeah baby?”

“Don’t ‘fink I forgot about our deal.”

Your hand quickly covered your mouth as you began laughing, Chris losing it beside you as well

“O-Okay dove I won’t...”

Chris could barely get that sentence out without laughing and the two of you managed to calm down after a couple minutes, Arlie looking between her mom and dad with a stone-faced expression, clearly not finding any of this funny

“Arlie baby you are going to be a force to be reckoned with when you get older”

“Just like you mommy!”

You laughed shaking your head at her before Chris chimed in beside you quickly to agree with his little girl

“Yep, just like mommy”

Chris leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek before wrapping an arm around you and bringing you to him. That moment in the kitchen becoming another mental snapshot you’d hope to keep with you forever, your sassy Arlie girl never failing to make each day as interesting as the last.

[thegreatwicked]

Memories of Chocolate Laced Kisses

It's finally done! And before I overthink it and do another ten edits here it is! The night Obi-Wan and Cressida's son was conceived! This was really hard to get through and it was a struggle to keep a specific tone I set, so I hope you all like it!

Memories of Chocolate Laced Kisses

She had always been particularly gifted in the area of evasion, her years as a sentinel no doubt took what was already a natural talent and sharpened that skill into perfection. With our meeting finished, Cressida, once more, had slipped away, disappearing like a vapor and I found myself standing alone in the practice room. This place had served as a neutral ground for our discussion regarding Solan, it was a location I hadn't frequented in quite some time. Until now, I had little reason to set foot in such a place, I wasn’t a teacher, not like the other masters who possessed the innate ability to connect with small children, it was never something I was particularly good at. However, being back in this room, waves of nostalgia washed over me in my solitude, bringing back a wealth of memories of my own youth. 

This very room had been where I once stood as a youngling, learning to harness the Force and master my emotions, just like we all did, some faster than others. Despite the years and countless Jedi who had passed through these doors, the place remained virtually unchanged, it even smelled the same. How that was possible I wasn’t quite certain but the sense of familiarity was both comforting and bittersweet. 

Some things never change, and some things must. I was falling into the latter category, I must change.

In contrast to my distant past, the room now felt smaller, almost diminutive whereas once it seemed to loom so large it was difficult to comprehend. I couldn't help but imagine how Solan might have looked donned in the traditional Jedi robes that his mother and I once wore. How he might have looked standing in this room surrounded by his clan, other force-sensitive children like himself, all learning, all a bit afraid. The thought brought a warm smile to my lips.

Getting to know Solan wasn’t going to be without its challenges, it was already becoming evident that he inherited traits from both his mother and me, from what little I had seen. The quick wit, sharp remarks he got from me, and an unwavering determination and calculable observation were among the qualities that were imparted to him from his mother, together they defined him. A blend of the two of us, it was amazing when I thought of it. I had never given much thought to children, certainly never of having any of my own, yet here I was, a father to a young Jedi in training. The notion of seeing Solan as we once were, in robes that may have been a little too large, wearing a training helmet, and wielding a training saber was one that warmed me inside. However, this particular memory was but a fiction—a scenario of what could have been but never was, at least not how I imagined it. In truth, Solan had discovered his connection to the Force through clandestine training sessions with his mother, in dangerous territory, hidden from my knowledge, and my protection.

My smile waned, and I found myself weighed down once more by the reality of my new life, my world grew heavy again feeling as though it were forcing me down, I sat myself on the floor, lost in contemplation. My thoughts swirled around the complexities of my life and how it had all commenced. It hadn't started in this room, but rather in the very quarters I inhabited whenever I was in the temple—my late master Qui-Gon's quarters. I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift back through the sands of time. The memories flowed in reverse, like a river running backward. 

Back...

Back...

Back...

Until I arrived at the precise moment I wished to revisit, a memory I had not permitted myself to visit, one that now pained and confused me—the night when Cressida and I had passionately shared together, the night Solan had been conceived.

With my mind's eye now open, I stood in Qui-Gon's old room, gazing upon the specter of my former self. I was a young, newly anointed Jedi Knight, weighed down by the immense responsibilities of the galaxy, struggling to bear that burden alone. 

And I was very alone. 

The room seemed to hold echoes of that fateful night, and I couldn't help but wonder how different our lives might have been had we chosen a different path, but as I watched the dance of the ghosts of the past play out before my eyes, I found myself inexplicably grateful that my path had been set as it was and that it now intertwined with Cressida.

~~~

“What will happen to me?" 

"You will be a Jedi, I promise," 

When the pyre had burned to nothing and only the ashes of a great Jedi master remained, Obi-wan retired to his fallen Master's quarters for one last night. The council had been kind in letting him remain where his master once called home, a small respite before he had to move on. He sat uncertain of how to proceed, only knowing that he had to. In a few days' time, he would begin training Anakin as his own Padawan. The enormity of the task weighed heavily on his shoulders, physically pulling him down, yet somehow he managed to maintain his composure. After everything that had happened, there was a blissful numbness that settled over him.

~~~

Sunset colored the room with warm shades in an attempt to breathe some life into the small space, which felt more like a tomb as the days had gone by. The whole room seemed dead like a spell, cold and lifeless had been cast upon it, trapping its inhabitant in stasis. Beyond the walls, life continued within the Jedi Order. Within the modest quarters that had been Qui-Gon Jinn's, the final rays of sunlight withdrew from the floor, plunging the room into twilight. 

Master Qui-Gon’s pyre had drawn hundreds to the temple grounds and as he watched his master’s final journey into the unknown, he felt lost in a sea of faces. He felt as though he were watching it all happen through someone else’s eyes. A spectator to a day he had never wanted to see. Like no one saw him; no one except for the boy who was as alone as he was. 

Anakin.

He’d spent the last few days in the stillness of Master Qui-Gon’s empty quarters, alone. He just needed a bit of time to deal with his grief. To somehow find himself because as soon as he left this room, he would be Obi-wan Kenobi Jedi Knight and Master to the Chosen One. The thought alone was terrifying. 

"Master..." The word was a whisper, a ghostly echo of conversations past. 

Even though the seat across from him at the table he sat at was empty, it was hard to believe Qui-Gon was truly gone. Harder still to fathom that he was about to step into the role of a Master and train Anakin Skywalker—the Chosen One. How could he teach another when his own heart was adrift in sorrow?

He just needed a little more time. He needed to wake up. But more than that he needed to find the willpower to stop sitting here, at the same table he and Qui-Gon used to share meals with and had countless conversations. Because no one sat across from him anymore.

He just stared at the two meals that had long since gone cold as if the presence of two portions of uneaten food would somehow change things, but despite not eating for days he felt no hunger or thirst. 

Would it be this way forever? 

He knew realistically the answer was ‘no.’ That he would find a way to pull himself up, that he would rise to the occasion and make his master proud and fulfill his dying wish. He would make Anakin a Jedi, it was just hard knowing that this time he would do it alone. Draped in Qui-Gon's robe, its oversized embrace offered a comforting haven, even though the hem sometimes skimmed the floor, causing a stumble now and then. In spite of its impractical size, the robe carried memories of his former master, making it too precious for Obi-Wan to remove.

Time was purposeless and held no sway over him, sat somewhere between a meditative state and consciousness, he lingered. The mechanical hiss of the doors saw no acknowledgement, nor did the soft light that flooded into the room or the hushed footsteps that stopped behind him. It wasn’t until he felt he was being stared at out of his peripheral vision that he turned for the first time in hours to see who it was that interrupted his solace, and it wasn't a face he expected. 

Cressida Vox. 

He hadn’t seen her in two years and the passage of time was apparent as it took his shock a few moments to catch up. Regardless of the flow of those two years and all that had changed, her eyes were still the same. Overcast and gray, like a peaceful day with clouds and gentle rain, bringing a sense of tranquility. She sat on her knees next to him saying nothing but the concern on her face communicating everything, reaching in a way words failed. 

"Cress…" 

As if awakening from a dream, his voice barely rising above a whisper, as if he feared he wasn’t really seeing what he was seeing.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," 

Though he couldn't find the words to respond, a sense of reassurance washed over him at the sight of her well-being. She offered him a muted smile and took his cold hand in hers, gently prying it from his own clasped grip. Taking immediate note of the indentations on his skin left by his own nails, something Obi-Wan hadn't realized until her fingers traced over the angry little lines, she reassured him with a squeeze, her thumb brushing lightly across his knuckles.

It was heart-wrenching to see those pools of blue that had once sparkled with the promise of adventure, camaraderie and compassion, now dulled, lost in the shadows that seemed to cling to the corners of the room.

“I know.” 

That was all she said.

His voice quivered with each attempt to speak, and the sorrow that had been accumulating over the past few days surged forward, causing him to slump forward in sheer exhaustion, unable to hold back any longer. She wrapped him in her arms, cradling his head as he shook with grief, a sorrow she was unfortunately too familiar with. She wished so much that he didn't have to share this pain with her now, she’d have given anything to take it from him, but not even in the expanse of the cosmic Force, did such a power exist. Her fingers ran through the short hair at the back of his neck as his hot tears met her skin, and Obi-Wan wept.

The friendships between Padawans were something special in Jedi life, enduring across decades and the vastness of the galaxy. These connections often felt like the Padawans had spent everyday together, even if that wasn't the case. In the case of Obi-Wan and Cressida, their meetings were infrequent, but each one left a profound impact.

Without the strong friendship between their Masters, Obi-Wan and Cressida might never have crossed paths. This realization weighed heavily on Obi-Wan as he held onto Cressida tightly, almost painfully so. She didn't dare move, struck by the jarring sight of Obi-Wan in such a vulnerable state. Known for his confident and warm smile, always ready with a clever remark, seeing him falling apart felt fragile. Through the worst of things, he had always stayed positive. The despair coming from him was unbearable, but she felt uniquely qualified to offer solace.

Two years ago, the tables had turned, and she was the one drowning in tears after her master's brutal death. Back then, Obi-Wan had been her comforting presence, dispelling the frigid void surrounding her. His hands firmly held hers, extending a lifeline, while his arms embraced her as she unraveled.

Now, seated side by side, they shared a silent moment. The echoes of his subdued lament gradually faded away. The intense sobs that had overtaken him earlier subsided, reduced to a mere tremor with each exhale. His breathing settled into a rhythmic cadence, growing more measured with each inhalation and exhalation.

When he finally looked up, his eyes still held a hint of redness, stained by lingering sadness. Yet, within the weariness of his gaze, a faint glimmer of Obi-Wan Kenobi emerged. A subtle nod followed—an unspoken assurance that he wasn't okay, but he would be alright. He was on the path to recovery. Despite the brokenness of his smile, there was a visible effort to reclaim himself, one piece at a time, starting with that smile. While the corners of his mouth didn't entirely turn upwards, the initial attempt proved somewhat successful. It marked a gradual return of the Obi-Wan she knew, a testament to his resilience and the slow resurgence of his inner strength.

"Your hair is longer," he remarked, his voice carrying a soft, tired undertone, yet a warmth returning to his words.

She tilted her head, looking for the long braid she used to tug on incessantly. "And you're missing a braid," A subdued burst of laughter escaped him. "How will I grab your attention now?"

Their laughter, though tinged with a sense of forced lightness, echoed in the room. Obi-Wan chuckled, a newfound appreciation for their shared history of pranks, and shrugged. "I suppose we'll have to resort to communicating like responsible adults." Her raised eyebrow conveyed skepticism.

"Are we even capable of that?" she questioned, her doubt evident. He responded with a nonchalant shrug.

"I believe we can manage," he asserted. Obi-Wan leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, and whispered, "Welcome home." The dynamic in the room shifted as the sadness retreated to the shadows; with Cressida's presence, it seemed to stand no chance. Laughter, less forced, infused the air, carrying a hint of relief at their reunion.

~~~

"The refectory tells me that you request plates of food daily– two of them, and consistently, they remain untouched," Obi-Wan avoided her gaze, providing no explanation. "You know he wouldn't want this."

"I'd give anything to have one more meal with him, maybe somehow if I could, then I'd be more prepared for what comes next. I suppose that's why I keep calling for two plates. I know he's gone, but—" He trailed off, then like a burst damn, blurted it out. “How can I do this? How can I train a padawan? What if I fail him? What I-”

His gaze fell on the lightsaber and the untouched food. Before he could retreat into his thoughts, Cressida's hand squeezing pulled him back.

“You will be what Anakin needs, see the way clear, Obi-Wan. Trust in the Force, and you can’t fail.”

"Sometimes, it feels like a nightmare I can't wake from, Cress. Other times, it's like I'm seeing it happen to someone else." Observing Cressida's subtle nod, the one she did without meaning to. This prompted a question he had never asked but often wondered about, "How did you do it? How did you recover from this?"

With a deep and introspective breath, she responded in a tone reminiscent of a confession, her gaze fixated on Qui-Gon’s lightsaber. "I don’t suppose I ever did," she admitted. 

His expression mirrored diminished hope, as if he were anticipating some morsel of wisdom.

“Does it ever get any easier?”

She gave a hesitant shrug, her response filled with uncertainty, as if the question had caught her off guard, or maybe she hadn't fully sorted through her thoughts. 

"Yes. And no." Her words carried an ambivalent tone. "Some days, it feels like I can still hear his voice. Other days, I can't even remember what it sounded like. I don’t think there is recovery, only acceptance. It won't ever fade, but with time, it gets a bit easier to bear. Living makes it harder to dwell on the ones we've lost." Her gaze shifted to the empty space where Qui-Gon used to sit. "The memory always lingers; no one truly vanishes."

Obi-Wan remained silent, his eyes fixed on the food in front of him, as if caught between the urge to eat and an inner struggle. She reached for one of the plates, pulling it closer. When he didn't respond, she offered a piece of now-cold bread, extending it toward him. However, he showed no interest in taking it. His focus barely shifted, even when Cressida playfully joked about the bread not being poisoned and lightly poked him in the face with it. She had hoped for a laugh or a smile, but the best he managed was a less melancholic frown and furrowed brow.

"If you want to keep pace with a padawan, you'll need your strength," 

The reference to Anakin appeared to cut through Obi-Wan's preoccupation. Anakin, much like Obi-Wan, grappled with the difficulties of being alone. The burden of his commitment to both Qui-Gon and Anakin pressed heavily on him. "Do it for me." Her smile carried a blend of gentle pleading, and it appeared to touch him at last. With the slightest of smiles, he took the bread.

"Thank you," he whispered, then took a disinterested bite. 

At first, he chewed slowly, almost as if struggling with himself to eat. However, as the act of chewing continued, his body seemed to awaken from its stupor, reacquainting itself with the taste of food. Gradually, his appetite rekindled.

She nudged his plate back toward him, and he resumed eating slowly. Offering some of his meal to Cressida, she accepted more out of a desire to ensure he didn't stop eating than genuine hunger. With deliberate restraint, she savored small bites, recalling the days when a younger Obi-Wan would consume his body weight, much to the horror of Master Deva L’Rue. The thought brought a smile to her face, reminiscing about those lighter moments.

As they shared the meal, it brought back memories of better days when their paths crossed, and both masters and their padawans enjoyed shared meals and stories. This was the first time in two years that they had dined together. The previous occasion had followed the passing of Cressida's master, Deva L'Rue, adding a layer of somber reflection to their gathering. While the absence of their masters meant fewer conversations and embarrassing stories, the simple act of breaking bread brought comfort. Turning to Cressida, Obi-Wan, as though contemplating the question throughout the meal, finally asked:

"Where have you been?" 

The question arose from a mix of curiosity and a lingering yearning that endured two years of silence. Obi-Wan understood the slim odds of receiving a direct answer, given the mystery surrounding Cressida's actions after her master's death. She had simply disappeared, leaving behind uncertainty that haunted him for a while. Despite the slim chances, he couldn't resist asking. 

Her lips formed the kind of smile that carried the weight of untold secrets and extraordinary tales destined to remain unspoken. Instead of words, she raised her lightsaber, and with a vibrant yellow blade, it pierced through the shadows, casting a radiant glow. 

She was a sentinel—a guardian of the Jedi Order, tasked with navigating the enigmatic realms beyond the well-trodden trails of traditional Jedi.

As her lightsaber hummed, the once-darkened room transformed into a space bathed in its brilliant illumination. The two-year silence suddenly made more sense and it saddened him further. Their destinies were set on divergent paths, and he couldn't help but wonder how many years might pass before their paths crossed again.

The secretive and independent role of a sentinel explained where she had been all this time and also brought up more questions, fortunately he knew better than to ask.

“Our masters would have been proud of you."

“They would be proud of us.”

Trying to infuse a bit of levity into the atmosphere, Obi-Wan interjected humor into their conversation, inquiring: 

"Any extraordinary stories you can regale me with?" 

Cressida, as though on the brink of revealing some hidden knowledge or secret anecdotes reserved solely for Obi-Wan, scanned their surroundings and playfully motioned for him to draw nearer. Her unexpected compliance surprised him, prompting him to shift closer, intrigued by the prospect that she might actually unveil something to him.

“Two may keep a secret if one is dead,” she whispered with a wink, leaving Obi-Wan to chuckle in response, he should have known better. "And we can’t deny the galaxy a face as handsome as yours," 

The unexpected compliment caught him by surprise, a delightful twist that brought a genuine smile to his face. Though no stranger to compliments on his good looks, there was a unique charm in the way Cressida delivered her words. It prompted him to cast a bashful glance at the ground, a soft chuckle escaping him as if to downplay the noticeable blush coloring his cheeks. 

"Keep your secrets then; I won't pry them from you," he responded, sidestepping a direct acknowledgment of the complement while allowing a subtle warmth to touch the tips of his ears.

With Obi-Wan's plate finally cleared, life and color returned to him, prompting a relieved sigh from Cressida. The table, however, wasn't entirely empty. A lone dish remained—a small bowl of soup favored by Qui-Gon and Yoda. This root stew, resembling brackish water, held a special place in the hearts of the seasoned Jedi Masters. Despite its unappealing appearance, Qui-Gon and Yoda found delight in it, engaging in many conversations over the bowl during chance encounters on the temple grounds. They insisted it wasn't just tasty but also beneficial for one's well-being. Numerous attempts were made to persuade Obi-Wan and Cressida to try it, but even Master Deva L’Rue, delicately toeing the line between respect and tactlessness, kept his distance, declaring it smelled like swamp water.

Dodging this particular dish created an odd bond between Obi-Wan and Cressida, leading them to playfully call it that whenever it appeared. Qui-Gon, being fair, acknowledged it was an acquired taste, its prevalence tied to circumstances on an assignment. Under different circumstances, he might have never given it a second thought. Yoda's unbridled enthusiasm for the stew, coupled with grumbles about younglings being too picky, and his subsequent dive into the dish with an appetite bordering on ravenous, added a humorous twist to the culinary escapade in retrospect. Despite Obi-Wan and Cressida being far from younglings, in the eyes of a Jedi Master who had lived over 900 years, all Jedi, regardless of age, could be considered as such.

Obi-Wan and Cressida found themselves for the first time in several years face to face with the dreaded Swamp Water. A playful standoff ensued, with exchanged knowing glances and an unspoken challenge lingering in the air. With each daring the other to take the first taste, their expressions shifting between soft chuckles and head-shaking disbelief at the unappetizing bowl before them. Two Jedi knights, grappling with the burdens of the galaxy, found themselves in a lighthearted stalemate of stubbornness, and pride.

The passage of time had softened Cressida's recollection, and perhaps it wasn't as dreadful as she had remembered? After all, years had passed, and they were undeniably adults now. What better way to courageously face the future than with a ceremonial taste of the stew in Qui-Gon's honor? Naturally, she decided to let Obi-Wan take the first bite. Reaching forward, she stirred the contents of the bowl. The scent, even more unpleasant when cold, made her wrinkle her nose in a comically exaggerated display of distaste. Without missing a beat, she extended the spoon to Obi-Wan, who responded with an emphatic head shake and a resolute rejection of the utensil.

"Don't you think we're a little old for these games?" 

Obi-Wan deftly evaded Cressida's attempts to feed him the dreaded swamp water stew, ducking his head from side to side. Her persistent and somewhat childish antics managed to coax a genuine smile from the Jedi Knight, filling the room with the rich resonance of his chuckles. Yet, Cressida wasn't satisfied with mere smiles—she wanted unrestrained, hearty laughter,s he would accept nothing less.

"You’re exactly right, we’re far too old for these games. We’re adults. We're Jedi Knights, right?” She put the spoon back into the bowl and Obi-wan nodded, “Guardians of the Force, Keepers of the Peace." Obi-Wan nodded again in agreement, but a lingering skepticism still colored his expression, as if he anticipated a punchline he might not appreciate. "I think we've grown enough to triumph over a bowl of soup, don't you?"

"I suppose..." Obi-Wan chose to maintain a dubious stance, making no effort to hide it.

"You first." She pushed the bowl towards him

"What? Why me?" He blinked rapidly, sounding somewhat offended, shoving it back to her. "Ladies first."

“You’re the one with a padawan... who hasn’t eaten in a week,” she teased, determined to escalate their playful skirmish, pushing it with greater force. "It'll be good for you!"

"It’ll make me sick… Do you really want to witness me regurgitate what little sustenance I’ve managed?" Obi-Wan countered, injecting a playful tone into his words as they engaged in a lighthearted skirmish over who would summon the courage to taste the infamous stew. He gave it another shove, causing some of its contents to slosh out onto the table "Absolutely not!"

“Come now, Obi-Wan, make Qui-Gon proud, drink the swamp water.”

“You’re the sentry; I thought sentinels were known for their fearlessness,” He teased, playfully prodding at the pride associated with her sentinel status.

Unfazed, she shook her head, playfully accusing him, “Coward,” before boldly bringing the spoon to her lips and sampling the stew. Regret was instantaneous. 

As her face contorted into a look of sheer disgust, she groaned, biting her lips inward to keep from expelling the substance. Her defensive posture resembled a creature recoiling from an unpleasant surprise as she dropped the spoon into the murky swamp water, a culinary nemesis that seemed to take personal offense. Obi-Wan couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled up within him rivaling the roar of a Wookiee. It erupted like a geyser, a release of pent-up tension, and the laughter poured out of him in uncontrollable waves, echoing through the room. The sheer absurdity of the situation fueled his amusement, and he found himself leaning on the table for support, laughing harder than he had in weeks. With wide eyes and an audible groan, she valiantly attempted to wrestle the offensive taste into submission, which only made him laugh harder.

With wide eyes and an exaggerated groan of displeasure, Cressida dropped the offending spoon into the swamp water as if it had bitten her, her eyes desperately searching for salvation. Meanwhile, in the midst of this gastronomic chaos, Obi-Wan, now sprawled on the floor, held his sides as if trying to contain his laughter within the confines of his body. It was as if the sheer force of his amusement had rendered him unable to sit upright. The scene unfolded like a comedic masterpiece, with Cressida's struggles and Obi-Wan's uncontrollable laughter creating a tableau of pure mirth.

Despite the daunting challenge, Cressida summoned her physical training outside the influence of the Force, conquering the spoonful of the culinary concoction in several determined swallows. Her victory was marked by a post-swallow shudder that rippled through her entire being, and she couldn't help but let her tongue hang out in a comical display. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan, still clutching his sides, had tears streamed down his face as he watched Cressida's valiant effort, finding immense amusement in the unexpected respite from the prevailing heaviness that had haunted them for days.

"It's vile!" 

In her desperate attempt to banish the unpleasant taste, she continually opened and closed her mouth, her eyes fixed on Obi-Wan's cup of water, revealing a desperate thirst for relief. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Obi-Wan beat her to it and held the water just out of her reach, goading her until she practically scaled the table in pursuit. Amused by her antics, he continued to laugh at her desperation.

In the past, she would have resorted to tugging on his braid, a playful gesture no longer available since it was now gone. Instead, she opted for his collar, giving it a firm tug that pulled him back and caused the water to splash on the table. Unable to allow her to suffer any longer, Obi-Wan surrendered the coveted drink. As she took generous sips, hoping in vain for respite, she groaned between gulps 

"This is not fit for human consumption!"

"Did the water help?" Obi-Wan asked, still chuckling, his laughter unabated, fully aware of the predictable answer. 

In response, Cressida forcefully exhaled in his direction, unleashing an aroma that hit him like a gust of wind from the darkest corners of the galaxy. Obi-Wan recoiled, a look of sheer horror on his face, as if he had just faced a Sith Lord's malevolent Force attack. Fortunately, the odor passed quicker than the taste, leaving him only with the memory of the unpleasant aroma. Meanwhile, Cressida's suffering continued, and his laughter returned. It had been years since he had seen this side of Cressida—funny, at ease, and thoroughly disgusted.

Her expression turned sharp, and she shot him a glare that could have cut through Durasteel. 

"If you don't stop laughing, I'm going to leave you." 

Her threat was delivered with a playful undertone, a joke. Truth be told, she was happy to see him enjoying a good laugh, even if it came at the cost of her culinary misadventure. His smile had a way of brightening the room, and she wouldn't trade that for anything.

Obi-Wan, toeing the line of good humor, decided to playfully throw in the towel. He raised his hands in mock defeat, after all, the Jedi were known for bringing balance to the galaxy—time to live up to that reputation. He reached for the dreaded spoon in solidarity, giving it a comical salute before bravely taking a bite in an act of penance. Attempting to swallow it in one gulp didn't quite work out, but, credit to Obi-Wan, he only hesitated briefly, a quizzical expression on his face as he pondered whether anything could be worse than what he had already endured.

Obi-Wan's response was immediate—a full-fledged gag reflex that far surpassed Cressida's, leading him to cover his mouth in a desperate attempt to avoid the impending upheaval caused by the foul concoction. As he contorted in exaggerated gestures of what seemed like a mix of disgust and pain, Cressida couldn't help but burst into laughter, and it felt as if the Force itself found amusement, sharing a cosmic chuckle at their expense. Despite their roles as Jedi, in that comical moment, they reveled in the realization that even the mighty Jedi Knight could be reduced to animated hilarity by a simple bowl of swamp stew. She pictured the amused spirits of their late masters having a hearty laugh from their celestial vantage point in the Force.

Here stood the man who had bested a Sith Lord, a Jedi Padawan of fearless courage, charm, and unwavering determination. Yet, the current spectacle before her was a stark departure—a tongue hanging out, portraying a kicked puppy facing an unjust penalty. The contrast between these two versions of Obi-Wan, the valiant Jedi and the humorously defeated one, created a comical scene that had her rolling with laughter.

As Obi-Wan grappled with the lingering aftertaste of the dreadful stew, Cressida couldn't resist teasing him, holding the glass of water just beyond his reach in a karmic twist. Despite momentarily forgetting about the glass, Obi-Wan swiftly focused on it. Intent on not letting her win, he summoned it with the Force, sending it toward him like a streak of lightning. With a triumphant gulp, he downed what little was left, only to be immediately assaulted by the infamous aftertaste. Panting like a dog, he struggled to exhale the foul flavor. 

“How is it possible that it gets worse?” He groaned in exasperation, shuddering as Cressida did.

“Surprise.”

Pleased with the outcome and relishing in his laughter, along with the added amusement of witnessing his struggle with the repulsive dish, she couldn't help but flash a triumphant grin. Her mission to hear his genuine laughter, had succeeded, making the endeavor worthwhile. 

She delved into her pocket, a carefree smile playing on her lips. With a shake of her head, a sense of familiar lightheartedness enveloped her as she pulled out a small bar of chocolate. The wrapper crinkled as she snapped off a piece, savoring the sweet and smooth relief it offered, countering the lingering aftertaste of the dubious stew. A sigh of contentment escaped her.

The sound of the crinkling wrapper drew Obi-Wan's attention, and he extended his hand expectantly. She noticed his puppy-eyed expression, silently pleading for a share. Momentarily indifferent, she watched him with amusement. However, true to their shared history of banter and pranks, she mischievously kept the chocolate just out of his reach, maintaining the playful spirit of their ongoing games.

"Are you truly so heartless, to let me suffer through the torment of this aftertaste?" His face twisted in misery, desperate for relief.

"Maybe," she replied with a sly grin.

"Cressida, please," he implored, injecting a touch of mock desperation into his plea.

Her amusement deepened. "You call that begging?"

“I beg of you, please, have mercy on my poor taste buds.” His words sought respite, even if there was a lightheartedness in his voice. However, it was the unbridled body-rocking laughter that she truly aimed to provoke. She chuckled and extended a piece to him, which he eagerly popped into his mouth, sighing in relief as the sweetness coated his tongue, banishing the lingering memory of the foul stew.

"That’s what you get for laughing at me," she teased, popping another piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"You wanted me to laugh," he countered, a playful glint in his eyes.

As their laughter faded, Cressida relented, and the two indulged in the sweet escape of chocolate, leaving the taste of the earlier dreadful stew as a distant memory. A light smile graced Obi-Wan's face.

"I did," she admitted with a genuine smile, handing him another piece of chocolate. He accepted it with a smile that held more light than dark. In that moment, she caught a glimpse of the Obi-Wan she knew, gradually emerging from the shadows that had veiled him. “So, are you man enough for another bite?” she playfully challenged, holding out the spoon as if it were a weapon and the soup was a battle. “Or are you still a padawan?”

Hands raised in surrender, Obi-Wan, with a twinkle in his eye, conjured an impression of Yoda, proclaiming, “Padawans to the will of the force we all are.” Her chuckle signaled her own surrender, and she set her spoon down. Once more, the two of them had been bested by the swamp water soup.

As their laughter subsided, a warmth settled in the room, replacing the earlier somberness. With a genuine expression, Obi-Wan shared. 

"It's good to see you again." Obi-Wan leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes as he inquired, "How long are you home for?" Cressida's initial radiant smile underwent a subtle transformation, burdened by unspoken secrets and hidden sorrows—layers she couldn't unveil, not even to him.

"I managed to delay my next assignment until after Qui-Gon's pyre," she answered, her tone suggesting a reluctance to delve into the topic. The gesture was kind, and Obi-Wan understood it wasn't solely for him. Qui-Gon had played a pivotal role in Cressida's life, especially after the death of her own master, Deva L’Rue. She had always spoken of Qui-Gon's kind eyes and the warmth that could dispel even the coldest nights. "I wanted to be here for him, to say goodbye, and I wanted to see you."

“I didn’t see you there.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Would you?” She replied in a shadowy tone, a hint of a smirk.

It wasn't the wisest question, and deep down, Obi-Wan was aware of that fact. Still, he couldn't resist the urge to inquire about Cressida's next destination. Her response was met with a quiet, contemplative look, revealing nothing more than the simple truth that she would depart come morning. The weight of her impending departure struck him, but what she revealed next hit even harder.

With an expression bathed with pain, she uttered words that sent a shiver through him:

"I can't tell you where I'm going, but if you see me, you must act as though I'm a stranger. It has to be as if I don't exist." 

The notion of treating her as though she didn't exist felt almost unbearable, a heavy burden on his heart. The harsh reality sank in – the likelihood of their paths crossing again was slim at best and even if they did, it was likely that she would see him but he wouldn’t see her. Beyond the confines of this room, the prospect of seeing her again seemed distant, and the awareness of this truth was a poignant pang of sadness in his chest.

He would miss the warmth of her smile, the shared pranks that brought laughter, and the stories they wove together – moments that were uniquely theirs. As the impending farewell loomed, Obi-Wan grappled with the ache of knowing he would never experience those cherished connections again. The sorrow cut deep, akin to the pain of losing Master Qui-Gon. 

Qui-Gon was gone, one with the Force, while Cressida would remain alive but lost to him, existing in a realm unreachable. And that was somehow much worse.

"Promise me you’ll be safe and you won’t give in to the darkness," Obi-Wan pleaded, his voice a gentle yet earnest melody, woven with a hint of vulnerability that only those close to him could discern. He was aware of the apparent futility of such a request, but the weight of his concern overpowered any logical restraint.

“Only fools make promises they can’t keep,” Cressida replied, her words resonating in the air like a melancholic melody. The truth within her response bore a potent sting, emphasizing the harsh reality they faced. “But I won’t go down without a fight.” 

She wanted to tell him not to forget her, but that would defeat the purpose – she needed to be forgotten. A mere rumor, a hint of deja vu at best and just as easily brushed aside.

Her eyes, brimming with unspoken feelings, quickly blinked against the ambient light. A hasty attempt to shield herself from the approaching sadness as she shifted her gaze toward the door. Leaving now seemed the smart choice, a way to dodge any further pain they might endure.

Following the sensible choice, she slowly rose to her feet, facing Obi-Wan with a mixture of longing and sorrow. Silently, she wished to conjure words that could make their impending farewell more bearable, knowing deep down that no verbal solace existed for such heartache. As she prepared to take her leave, Obi-Wan's hand shot out, enveloping hers in a desperate grip. His eyes, once again shrouded in darkness and fragility, conveyed a plea that transcended mere words.

“Cress!” She froze looking at the death grip he had on her hand.

“I know it’s silly, that it’s selfish, but I’m not ready to go out there, yet.” His voice echoed with a genuine urgency, a plea for a reprieve from the impending separation. "Stay for a while longer, please," 

The vulnerability in his gaze exposing the depth of his need for companionship amidst the storm of emotions. In response, she nodded, acquiescing, and settled back into her seat. It would be fair to say she did it for him, but in truth she sat back down for her sake too. More than content to spend some more time by his side.

As they rested side by side, she laid her head on his shoulder, their hands clasped together naturally, fingers not quite lacing, and a tranquility enveloped them. 

An unspoken change seemed to occur between them, a subtle shift in their connection that lingered in the air for the past two hours. They both sensed it but couldn't quite grasp its nature or how to address it, then there was also the possibility that it didn’t need addressing. Some things could simply be.

He couldn’t envision a world where if he saw her, he could say nothing, do nothing, one where he would have to simply watch her go. The weight of the thought was unbearable. 

“I’m going to miss our conversations,” Obi-Wan murmured, she nodded, responding with a despondent "me too."

Obi-Wan looked down at Cressida, his thoughts meandering in the silence. Her padawan braid too, was absent yet he wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to it, he followed the path it once took intertwined with the rest of her hair. The strands cascaded freely around her shoulders, a departure from the neatly woven braid she usually wore. 

“You–,” 

He wasn't sure why he suddenly intended to express his amazement at her beauty, but he halted mid-sentence, realizing the danger of his words. A subtle smile played on her lips as she reached up  to the spot where his padawan braid used to be, giving the short strands a playful tug; it was far less effective. He was going to leave a trail of broken hearts across the galaxy, starting with hers.

“Are you afraid?” 

She replied softly, almost reluctantly, “Yes,” her voice carrying a vulnerability that echoed in the dimly lit room. She continued, “The thought of being on my own for the first time, truly on my own—it feels like standing on the edge of the galaxy, facing something vast and unknown. And I feel like I’m a Padawan again, and it all feels suffocating.” With those words, she pulled her knees up onto the bed, cradling them close to her chest.

His heart ached, and without hesitation, he lifted his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. In the solace of that embrace, she curled into him, inhaling deeply.

The fabric of his robes carried the same scent — a gentle blend of soft linen, reminiscent of incense wafting through the temple corridors, intertwined with the faint aroma of propulsion engines humming from passing ships. It was an olfactory symphony that felt like home.

She tried not to think about how much she would miss that smell.

“I’ll miss your smile and your jokes,” She murmured, punctuating her words with a gentle tap on his nose, coaxing forth that familiar, brilliant smile. 

“I’ll miss your wit; delightfully dry but very warm and forgiving at the same time,”��

Goodbye was inevitable, a looming storm on the horizon, and with each passing moment, they only delayed the impending downpour of pain. Obi-Wan felt the weight of the parting settling on his shoulders, sorrow he wished to stave off for just a little longer, he wasn’t ready. Not yet. 

As if the word ‘yet’ could somehow serve as a buffer against the stark reality that awaited them.

Nestled comfortably in the circle of his embrace, she seemed so small, her knees drawn up to her chest, seeking solace within the haven of his arms. Sensing his lingering gaze, she looked up, and like a force beyond their control, a magnetic pull drew them closer. Their foreheads meeting, creating an intimate cocoon, noses brushing against each other in shared breaths that spoke of the intimacy they sought to prolong.

A gentle current passed between them, weaving an unseen thread that pulled them closer still, until a delicate adjustment on both their ends, saw their lips just barely brushing. In that fragile moment, a final delicate tilt led to a soft collision of lips—a kiss so tender it felt like a mere, featherlight caress, leaving behind a tingling sensation.

The fragile nature of the kiss spoke volumes, leaving a stillness in the room. After the span of a heartbeat, as if testing the waters.

Over the span of two years since their last encounter, Obi-Wan underwent a metamorphosis, elevating him beyond mere roguish charm to undeniably handsome. His essence, once a portrayal of youthful exuberance, had undergone a nuanced evolution that she almost missed. It was like revisiting a piece of art after a few years and seeing it in a new light, where new brushstrokes and colors revealed themselves, now discernible to a more mature gaze. 

A strength now emanated from him, his shoulders broad and commanding, bearing the weight of accumulated experience and a more defined muscular frame. His jawline, once soft and smooth, had become chiseled and shadowed by a hint of stubble—a departure from the meticulous grooming of his earlier days. Even the hand clasping hers was marked by the disciplined use of a lightsaber, now carried a seasoned ruggedness, evidence of a weapon wielded not just in defense but in the heat of anger. 

At the same time, beside him, the quiet symphony of the last two years unfolded, reminiscent of a familiar melody with newfound nuances to savor. The auburn cascade of her hair had departed from its habitual braid, flowing freely around her shoulders, appearing longer, darker, and richer. Her eyes, once vivid and expressive, now seemed stormier and grayer than usual, as if they already held the weight of countless secrets. They mirrored the tumult within, adding a layer of complexity to the evolving beauty that captivated his gaze. The subtle coral tint of her lips whispered an understated allure, and as his focus shifted, he traced the delicate curve of her neck. No longer possessing the innocence of a teenage girl, her form embraced the grace of womanhood. Soft curves delicately outlining an hourglass silhouette.

They leaned in again. This time, slightly firmer, the tingling sensation less intense but replaced by a growing warmth that enveloped them. Instead of breaking apart, they remained, savoring the connection.

Something shifted in the air when their lips met a third time, it wasn't a fleeting brush; it was a deliberate connection, a subtle acknowledgment of the emotions swirling around them.

As the older of the two Jedi, it perhaps fell into the scope of Obi-Wan’s responsibility to remind them both of their commitment to the Jedi Code and how what this was quickly becoming was drifting into a very gray territory. But he didn’t. All reason, logic and common sense demanded that he take his hands off Cressida, remind her of their ideals, wish her well and send her on her way, knowing he’d never to see her again.

Yet, he couldn't do it. He didn’t want to. 

He hadn’t felt good in weeks and a stubborn resolve settled in, hadn’t they both been through enough to warrant just this one little indulgence? It would be their secret. He trusted Cressida to keep it.

Similar meetings and rendezvous between other Jedi were commonplace, this was no different, except somehow it was different. Words were unnecessary, but the very essence of their longstanding relationship teetered on the edge of transformation and neither seemed bothered by it.

"Never again," He whispered, his voice a soft caress that barely concealed the lingering uncertainty. They hovered on the precipice, lips nearly touching, both craving more, her face briefly contorted in confusion. "Do you agree? Beyond these walls, who knows if our paths will ever cross again?"

Her response was a hesitant nod, understanding what he was alluding to. "Even if they did, we couldn’t reach out to one another."

"Exactly," he exhaled, a sigh of relief that carried warmth, the atmosphere around them deepening like a smoldering ember.

 "Your journey leads to Anakin." Cressida murmured, attuned to the subtle signals he conveyed. She dared another brush of lips, and he didn't pull away, in fact his arm around her shoulders drew her in more.

"And you'll serve the Council of First Knowledge in the shadows," Their coded responses granting them permission to explore the yearning that lingered between them.

"The Council doesn't explicitly prohibit physical connections," Her lips hovering just shy of his but aching to touch his again. "Only attachments." 

This was dangerous, what they were saying, what they were doing, but it wasn't completely unreasonable. The idea hung in the air and they weren’t the first Jedi to entertain it, a place where physical closeness could happen without deeply connecting the soul—a tacit understanding within the Jedi Order, shared but unacknowledged.

"Only attachments," 

"We wouldn't be the first Jedi to—" Her sentence was lost beneath the weight of his more assertive kiss, his calloused hand cradling the gentle curve of her neck.

"And certainly not the last," he declared with more confidence, inviting a deeper exploration with the soft, lingering brush of his tongue against her lips.

"I have until morning," 

The ticking clock, counting down to their inevitable parting, stirred a quiet desperation in Obi-Wan. Sensing her already leaning into his touch, a gentle nudge on her back prompted a fluid response — she swiftly climbed into his lap, fingers weaving up his chest and twining around his neck.

Left with only a precious few hours, a fleeting pocket of time, really, it wasn't enough to satiate their hunger for each other's presence, but it would suffice. They both craved a deeper connection, a touch that went beyond the ordinary. While neither was inexperienced in the realm of sexuality, this felt new, an intimate bond unlike anything before. And who better for this exploration? Bound by years of friendship and deep trust, they offered a comfort the other could find nowhere else.

He led her into another kiss, skipping all subtleties, coaxing her mouth open to him with the finesse of a skilled lover. It wasn't reserved or ambiguous; it was a bold manifestation of touch-starved desires; a profound need etched in every shared breath. 

Cradled in Obi-Wan's lap as if it were her rightful place, her fingers ran through his hair while their mouths engaged in a dance, relishing every tender touch of lips and the caress of tongues. The lingering taste of chocolate resurfaced in waves, weaving throughout the kiss with every roll of their tongues against one another, adding a layer of sweetness. This shared flavor, this secret bond, forged in chocolate-laced kisses, would resurface in their memories for years to come, whenever the taste or scent danced across their palettes. 

Suddenly captivated by the allure that she possessed, painted in this new light as a lover. An unexpected yearning welled up within him, blending seamlessly with a growing desire that defied his initial expectations. The sight of her in this intimate moment no longer felt unfamiliar; it flowed as a natural progression in the intricate dance of their evolving relationship.

As his hand firmly pressed against the curve of her hip, drawing her into a closer embrace, the ambient temperature in the room seemed to escalate, creating an almost stifling warmth. The weight of his Jedi robes, once a symbol of order and duty, now felt burdensome and confining in the charged atmosphere.

A subtle exhale escaped him, a sigh of relief, as her skilled hands navigated the labyrinth of intricate knots, ties, and fastenings that held the layers of his attire together. Guided by a well-practiced muscle memory, her fingers moved with a nimble precision, each deliberate motion filled with a growing sense of urgency. The anticipation hummed in the air, creating an electrifying tension that resonated through every touch. The soft sounds of loosened fabric rustling in the room, adding a tactile rhythm to the charged atmosphere. It was as if the very act of undressing became a dance, a prelude to an intimate connection that transcended the boundaries of their usual roles.

But the soft click of his lightsaber clasp being freed of his belt resonated like a branch snapping. It found its place on a nearby table, guided gracefully by the unseen hand of the Force. As their lips briefly parted, their eyes met, silently probing for any flicker of hesitation or doubt. It was like a suspended dance, each metallic sound echoing the unspoken question lingering in the air. With nothing but the soft click of Obi-Wan's saber belt filling the space, it felt like an unspoken conversation happening amidst the sounds of undressing, each click asking, ‘Are we sure about this?’

The realization hit her that this wasn’t some fleeting or faceless lover; it was Obi-Wan. Somehow that knowledge made her more certain than ever, any lingering traces of guilt over the forbidden nature of this physical entanglement and its closeness to the rule regarding attachment faded.

He ceased to be just a trusted friend in that moment; he became a source of warmth, strength, and desire. A physical presence she craved, one who could offer not just comfort but also pleasure.

The ever-present storms swirling within Cressida's gaze were now tranquil and gentle, while the crystalline blue of Obi-Wan's eyes remained unwavering, shimmering with contentment and serenity. They both knew there was no turning back, and strangely, it brought them peace.

With the belt absent, his tunic hung looser, now unrestrained, her delicate hands made their way up the expanse of his chest. With a final tug, the linen fabric slipped off his shoulders, fluttering lifelessly to join the discarded belt.

Her eyes first traversed the canvas of Obi-Wan's body, starting from their shared eye contact before drifting down the length of his neck to his collar and the smooth expanse of his chest, and down his stomach. Appreciating the unblemished contours that spoke of youth and untarnished strength. Unmarred by the scars time would imbue on him. It was a captivating display of vitality, the hard, well-defined lines held her attention, ultimately leading her gaze down to the laces of his trousers.

Her fingers, possessed by a tactile curiosity of their own, followed the path her eyes had taken, eliciting a subtle reaction from Obi-Wan's muscles flexing under her touch. She followed the soft trail of light-colored hair that descended into his trousers, this Obi-Wan was different from the one she had known in her youth. He had transcended the realm of being just a boy, a mere padawan; now before her as a man, a Jedi Knight. These titles, only mere words, were devoid of meaning in the grand scheme of the cosmos, somehow only made her want him more.

Despite the years of their enduring friendship, she had never seen him out of his robes, never witnessed him in any state of undress. The revelation of his robust physical form unfolded before her like a long-awaited revelation, and it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that she found herself momentarily captivated by the sight before her.

The self-assured essence of Obi-Wan's renowned smirk subtly resurfaced with the slightest upturn of his lips. In that brief pause, he basked in the way she gazed at him. He knew he shouldn’t be vain, but he couldn't deny the satisfaction derived from witnessing her captivated stare.

With a tender encouragement, he drew her into another kiss, skillfully navigating past her lips with a practiced ease. His mouth moving against hers, slanting in a hungry kiss that savored every trace of sweetness he could find. Cressida's soft breathing played like a sweet melody, her constant featherlight touches and caresses along his neck and sternum, sent goosebumps racing across his skin, prompting a delightful murmur of contentment through his lips to hers. Studying his reactions and adjusting her approach accordingly, growing bolder and uninhibited, from soft, and ticklish that made him shudder, to the light sting of her nails leaving red lines down his stomach, each touch elicited a distinct response.

In lives dedicated to serving the galaxy, such indulgences were rare and often frowned upon, sacrifices made in the pursuit of duty. Yet, in this intimate moment, a different kind of service unfolded—one that went beyond expectations and quieted lingering doubts. A service to each other.

The weight of a single kiss was minuscule but as they grew more passionate and more frequent, they began to build up and Obi-Wan’s body responded. He gave a groan when a smooth rock of Cressida’s hips against this growing erection made him painfully aware of just how much of an effect they were having on one another. 

His breath hitched at her touch, and his lips trembled, as if holding back unspoken words. Disengaging from the kiss, he circled his arm around her thigh while the other secured her lower back. With a seamless motion, he executed a flip, reversing their positions. As Cressida descended into the bed, Obi-Wan now loomed over her. His arms formed a cage on either side of her head, locked in place as he sank down for another kiss.

A deep, guttural sound escaped him as she skillfully wrapped her leg around his hips, drawing him in with a subtle and inviting roll. The ease with which she moved, exuding an innate intimacy, took him by surprise, as if they shared the familiarity of long-term lovers rather than the reality of their connection. An urgent energy coursed through both of them, and he sensed her fingers eagerly seeking the laces of his trousers.

Smirking against her lips, he left a lingering kiss before straightening up at the foot of the bed. He found amusement and intrigue in her slightly tousled appearance, paying particular attention to the way her gaze remained fixated not on his face but on the skilled movements of his hands as he worked on the laces of his trousers.

His fingers moved with a practiced grace, effortlessly unraveling the familiar knots while keeping his gaze locked onto hers. The air around them crackled with an electric charge, a mix of desire and a playful spark that danced between them. With the laces loose, he worked off his boots, each soft thud adding to the rhythm of their shared moment.

Obi-Wan's eyes held a fiery intensity, a playful smile playing on his lips. The way he looked at her, coupled with the easy progression of their actions, made everything feel just right. 

She moved to the end of the bed, on her knees, bringing her only to align herself with the level of his chest, her fingers blazing a tantalizing path that stirred a visceral response, each touch sending shivers through him. When she cupped his erection through the fabric of his trousers, the room hummed with intense energy as his hips instinctively responded, rocking into her hand, finding pleasure in the firm petting, moving in tandem with the deliberate, unhurried rhythm of her caresses.

His eyes drifted shut in contentment as he felt a soft guiding pull on his trousers, coaxing him forward. He complied without hesitation, moving until one knee brushed against the mattress edge taking some of his weight, lowering himself slightly.

He surrendered to the sensations her caresses evoked, a ripple of pleasure surged through his body. His hips moved instinctually, pressing into the warmth of her palm, seeking out the pressure that sparked such intense delight. 

With a gentle but insistent tug, his trousers gave way, the cool kiss of air against his heated skin contrasted with the warmth of her touch. Her fingers wrapped around him firmly, their steeliness belying the tenderness within her grasp, and from his parted lips escaped an involuntary exhale, sharp and laden with relief and want.

He watched her through half-lidded eyes as she began to slowly stroke him. Exploring him with purpose, each touch an experiment, an objective to learn what he liked, studying the language of his body. With a steadying breath, Obi-Wan reached down to overlay her hand with his own. His touch, suggesting rather than demanding, teaching her a rhythm that he liked—slow, but firm purposeful strokes that coaxed forth waves of pleasure.

His world narrowed to the slide of her skin against his, the pressure of her fingers, a tide of bliss rose within him, cresting with each deliberate caress, and his head fell back. His grip on her hand relaxed, arm descending heavily to his side.

“Yes, like that,” He breathed out, his voice barely a whisper thick with desire, accompanied by gentle breaths escaping in relaxed huffs. 

She paused, just for a moment, to take in the sight before her. His chest rose and fell with a languid ease, the tension that had once claimed his shoulders now dissipated into the ether. Her gaze traveled across his handsome features softened in bliss, the arch of relaxation that bowed his brow, the serene slope of his cheeks, and the gentle parting of lips.

Bringing him pleasure filled her with profound satisfaction, to see him so undone. Completely relaxed and unburdened, knowing she was the reason for it, felt more rewarding than any thought of climax. She craved more of this power over his state of being, desiring to keep him in serenity and pleasure, wanting to make the most of it before their time ran out.

A sharper inhalation escaped him, replaced by a low groan as Cressida embarked on a heated journey down his stomach, mapping every contour and ridge of muscle, each press of her lips a deeper etch into the canvas of his body. A crescendo of sensation built as she explored him, teeth grazing his flesh in love bites that spoke of primal urges and the craving to claim and be claimed.

“Cress…”

Her lips left a trail pulsating with cosmic energy, fingers, attuned to the unspoken cues he'd shown her, continued to stroke him, causing his cock to throb under her skilled touch. Pearlescent precum beaded at the tip, a temptation she couldn't resist. With the pad of her thumb, she smeared the slick essence in lazy circles around the crown, her movements deliberate and languid. The sound that escaped Obi-Wan was pure pleasure—raw and unrestrained—as her thumb moved in a hypnotic dance, spreading the liquid fire that seeped from him. 

As the circle of her thumb continued its leisurely glide over his sensitive flesh, he leaned into it, his chest heaved in deep and shaky breaths, the rhythm of his breaths growing erratic. He let loose a deep groan and gasp when she sank onto the bed and her lips closed over his weeping tip. The depth of the warmth of her mouth was a velvet glove around his length. Her tongue painted strokes of sheer pleasure with every swirl, causing many a deep stumbling moan and a visible shudder rippled across his entire being. 

Her movements were unhurried, each lap of her tongue against him, coaxing forth more of his essence which she greeted with eager acceptance. With each inch she took in, she paused, allowing him to feel the heat, the moisture, the snug embrace of her mouth before retreating and returning with equal fervor. Obi-Wan's fingers twitched at his sides, slowly finding their way to thread through Cressida's auburn hair, gently tugging with each pulse of desire that shot through him.

The rhythmic movement of her head drew him deeper into a haze, his hips canting forward in an involuntary plea for more of her enveloping warmth. Taking what she could, but unable to swallow him completely, but what she couldn’t, her hands continued to stroke, caress and squeeze. He felt like he was falling into a thick fog, as he met the back of her throat and he moaned as she pressed a bit further. 

She indulged him offering soft, sweet, indulgent suckles, lapping up more of the substance as it dripped from his cock. Lavishing attention on him, taking more of him into her mouth, basking in his ungentlemanly moans, making sure to leave no part of him unpleasured.

The vibrations from a moan—it was unclear whose—sent electrifying shockwaves through him. The blissful wet warmth of her mouth enveloping the length of his shaft, the soft flick of her tongue over his slit swirling, tasting. The instinctive thrusts of his hips, coupled with the crescendo of his thundering heart rate and hurried breathing signaled the rapid approach of an uncontrolled descent into pleasure. The precipice loomed, a sweet descent into abandon, and he edged ever closer, a hair's breadth from falling into oblivion.

He released her hair, his palm cradled her jaw, a silent signal that stalled the rhythm of their intimate dance. With a gentle insistence, he coaxed his hips away from the seductive embers of her mouth, refusing to be a selfish lover.

Gasping softly, Cressida lifted her gaze, her breath a warm caress against his sensitized skin. Her lips, glistening with saliva, parted slightly as Obi-Wan's thumb traced the soft curve with a painter’s precision. A faint shake of his head, subtle but meaningful, conveyed his message clearer than any word could: this was about them, not just him. She kissed his thumb, her teeth captured the pad gently, while her tongue played a teasing game, flicking over it with a playful intimacy that tested his resolve.

"Enough," he whispered, the word barely a breath yet heavy with intent. Obi-Wan's hands were tender as they guided Cressida in one fluid motion, she was on her feet, caught within the circle of his arms.

The kiss came without hesitation, fiery and demanding leaving no room for restraint. As the kiss deepened, Obi-Wan began a descent of passion along her neck, the warmth of his breath acting like a narcotic, bringing about a pleasant haze.

Each kiss was like a starburst, its heat searing her sensitized skin, leaving behind a trail of stardust. Her head tilted back, offering him more space to explore, to claim. 

“You’ll bring a man to his knees with that mouth,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. The vibrations of his voice tickled her flesh, sending waves of anticipation through her core. 

His lips found her pulse, latching onto the rhythm that hammered beneath her skin—a testament to the arousal coursing through her veins. It was a moment of surrender, of giving in to the torrential pull between them, and she could only clutch at his shoulders, grounded only by his strong embrace and the relentless pursuit of his mouth against her neck.

"Need these off," he murmured, his voice low and husky, eyes glinting with desire as they took in the unfamiliar sight of her clothing - an unusual departure from the usual Jedi robes. 

The utilitarian style of her outfit, he thought, would have blended perfectly with the crowd outside of the temple, a far cry from the typical aesthetic within these hallowed halls. It hugged her figure elegantly; it molded against her curves, accentuating her feminine form. He couldn't help but admire how well it highlighted every enticing aspect of her physique. 

His heart raced in anticipation of what lay beneath. As their lips met in a heated kiss, his fingers trailed down her back, feeling the soft fabric of her camisole, pulling the garment off over her head before his own hands roamed freely over her bare skin. He reveled in the contrast between her delicate form and his rough hands, savoring every moment of skin-on-skin contact. The discarded camisole joined the pile of clothes scattered on the floor, forgotten in their passion.

As his fingers traced along her body, he marveled at the softness of her curves, a stark contrast to the sharp edges and defined muscles he was used to. He explored every inch of her, from the gentle rise of her breasts to the smooth expanse of her stomach and the small dip of her navel. Every curve and contour entranced him as he moved lower, relishing in the feel of her under his touch.

While the visual allure had been captivating, Obi-Wan desired more than mere sight; he craved an exploration that engaged all five senses. He ushered her onto her back, embracing the softness of the bed, and for a minute she lay there under his gaze. Until now the sensual exchange of teasing and pleasure had reached its zenith, remaining largely one sided, and now the time for reciprocity had arrived.

His desire burned to taste and savor every inch of her body, an urgent need to dive deeper into their shared passion. Without hesitation, he joined her on the bed, crawling over her and covering her body with his own. Dropping to capture her lips in a searing kiss, opening his mouth to enjoy the lazy, sensual strokes of her tongue. 

He blazed a path marked by faint red marks down the hollow of her throat, creating a deliberate descent to accommodate his exploration. Her skin was now completely exposed to him, inviting touch and tasting. Each movement of his lips and tongue was deliberate, making for an enticing descent that only intensified her anticipation. With every kiss and lick, she felt a rush of warmth and desire spread throughout her body. His gentle caresses were like sparks of electricity, igniting passion within her. The taste of her skin lingered on his lips, drawing him in with its sweetness and addictiveness. She trembled with pleasure at his touch, yearning for more of his skillful exploration.

With a sense of familiarity born from past experiences, he moved lower, his mouth finding the swell of her breast in a delicate dance. The sound of her breath quickened and her body arched in response to his attentions. Emboldened by her reactions, he proceeded with purpose and skill, exploring every inch of her skin with his lips and tongue. Each gentle suction on her nipple sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body, causing her mind to short-circuit in pure bliss. 

She couldn't even finish saying his name before he was kissing and teasing his way down the plane of her stomach. A roguish glint danced in his eyes as he surveyed the damp trail his mouth had left on her skin, before trailing his tongue just above the waistband of her trousers. Locking gazes for a lingering moment, he blew a soft breath against the damp skin, reveling in the sight of goosebumps rising on her flushed skin. The intensity between them continued to grow as they explored each other's bodies with reckless abandon

“Obi-”

A smirk played on his lips. His fingers curled around the leather of her boot, tugging it off and flinging it carelessly over his shoulder. The sound of impact echoed in the room as the second boot joined its mate against the wall. With a graceful ease, he moved back up the bed towards her. His movements were slow and calculated, like a predator stalking its prey. He reached for her waistband, deftly undoing the clasp and pulling her trousers down her legs. Each inch of skin that was revealed was met with fiery kisses, leaving trails of heat in their wake. 

Her skin was warm silk under his palms, “Close your eyes.” His voice sounded different, lower, darker, heavier with lust. Impossible to ignore, so she complied.

The silence between them stretched on, the air thick with tension and anticipation. She could feel his warm breath placing a soft kiss that sent little electric shocks through her skin. Slowly, he made his way up her legs, leaving a trail of kisses along the way - her ankle, knee, thigh, and finally her hip. A shiver ran down her spine as he dipped his tongue into her navel, teasing and tantalizing. She wanted to open her eyes and take in the sight of him, but she resisted, focusing instead on short controlled breaths to maintain some semblance of calmness. 

Just when she thought she had found her center again, Obi-Wan shattered it with a fluttering of his eyelids and a tender kiss between her legs. As his tongue traced the seam of her lips, a rush of desire washed over her, melting away any remaining resistance. In that moment, she was completely lost in the sensations he created with each gentle flick and stroke of his tongue.

Her calm broke instantly, her lips parted but not real sound came out right away, only a desperate, mewling cry. His fingers traced delicate patterns along her inner thighs, adding to the sensations created by his skilled tongue. She couldn't control herself, her hips moving against him in search of more pleasure. 

Searching for purpose, her hands tangled with the linens, gripping them between her fingers, desperate for something to occupy themselves with. The lines of the sheets granted her mind a momentary easement, their softness offering a tactile anchor. But they were a poor substitute for the warmth of Obi-Wan's skin; she wanted to touch him, her fingers began to cramp from her grip on the linens and she reached for him.

Reveling in the soft texture of Obi-Wan's hair. With a sense of relief, she combed her fingers through the short strands, savoring the sensation of them brushing against her palms. Occasionally, stroking the tips of his ears, eliciting a pleasurable shiver from Obi-Wan. He visibly melted into her touch, silently pleading for more of her soothing caress.

The warmth of his breath, the soft wetness of his tongue and the occasional featherlight strokes of his fingers offering exploratory touches over her skin continued to stir up a crucible of competent sensations working towards a boiling point of inevitable pleasure. His pace was lazy and relaxed, offering the same intimate attention she’d given him finding a profound satisfaction in the way she writhed against his mouth and into his touch. Seeking out and easily honing in on that little delicate pearl of nerves he offered gentle licks and wet open mouthed kisses that had her seeing the stars behind closed eyes. She could scarcely breathe, much less barely able to utter a single syllable that didn’t turn into a moan or a whimper, speech was simply impossible under Obi-Wan’s ministrations. 

Her gentle caresses of his ears being the only power she had over him, and it was an odd thing that such a simple touch yielded such a reaction. When he stumbled, it was just enough of a lull for her to regain her ability to think and speak, the need in her voice when she called his name, drew his gaze from her weeping pussy. 

“Obi-Wan, please.” 

He took in deep breaths, his expression focused as if he was deep in thought. It was a side of Obi-Wan she had never seen before, one that seemed to revel in giving pleasure instead of receiving it. She placed her hand around the back of his neck and used just enough pressure to make him abandon what he was doing and sink into her mouth. She couldn't resist the urge to taste his lips, now flavored with her own essence.

His aching desire was evident as his erection brushed against her stomach, causing both of them to shudder with pleasure. He wanted to take her right then and there, but he wasn't sure if she was ready. 

"Open your mouth," he whispered, tracing her lips with his fingers and sending shivers down her spine. 

She hesitated at his request, but quickly gave in when she saw the concern in his eyes. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss, savoring the taste of his moan. Her hips rolled against his hard cock, showing him just how much she wanted him. 

"It’s alright, I don't need it," she said, taking his finger into her mouth and sucking on it like she had done to his cock not long ago. "I need you."

She sucked gently, feeling him stiffen further against her, an embodiment of their shared longing.

His reaction was immediate; his eyes flared wide, a visceral response to the intimate caress. She felt his chest rise and fall with a heavy breath, his heart racing beneath the warm skin. 

With a reluctant shake of his head, as if to dispel the haze of overwhelming arousal, he withdrew his finger from the wet warmth of her mouth. The slick path it traced over her skin was a silent tease, a fleeting promise before dipping lower. His touch was feather-light, barely there, yet enough to elicit shivers of anticipation. Then, with precision and an almost unbearable gentleness, he slipped between her legs, venturing into the heat that beckoned him with unspoken pleas for fulfillment.

"I know," he whispered against the velvet of her lips. 

His words were a silken thread weaving through the heightened tension between them, binding her to the moment. She offered no resistance as his index finger slipped inside her, a gasp escaping her lips that was quickly swallowed by his mouth descending upon hers once more. Her back arched instinctively, pressing her closer into the heat of his body as she moaned with burgeoning desire.

The sensation of his thumb drawing lazy circles over her sensitive flesh sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her. Each circle was a promise, each gentle stroke a tease coaxing her toward an edge she was all too eager to tumble over. 

His finger was soon joined by another, both moving within her with an intimacy that had her inner muscles clenching around him. It was a gripping sensation, holding him captive just as much as it promised sweet release. He swelled with anticipation, the thought of being enveloped entirely by her warmth stoking the hunger that simmered within him.

"Want you to come undone for me first," he murmured, his voice a husky timbre that vibrated through her. The rhythm he set with his thumb and fingers was unyielding, a steady pace that was relentless in its pursuit of her climax. Each motion pushed her further, her body responding with mounting urgency to the dance they performed together.

"Come for me, Cress," he coaxed, his breath hot against her skin as kisses peppered her neck, her jaw, returning again and again to claim her mouth. The sound of her name on his lips was a catalyst, fueling the fire within her, propelling her toward the precipice she stood upon. His desire was her command, and she could no more stop the oncoming storm than she could cease the beating of her own heart. 

Obi-Wan's breath hitched in his throat, a shudder rippling through him as Cressida arched beneath the attentive ministrations of his hand. With each tender caress, she writhed, her body singing a symphony of pleasure that resonated in the stillness of the room. Her whimpers and moans filled the air, the sweet sounds of surrender mingling with the rhythmic creak of the bed. Shocks of delight traced the pathways of her nerves, her every muscle tensing and releasing in euphoric waves.

As the crescendo of her ecstasy ebbed, she lay quivering beneath his touch—a testament to the depths of pleasure he had coaxed from the core of her being. Her chest rose and fell with the heavy breaths of satisfaction, eyes glazed with an afterglow that spoke more than words ever could.

With only a hint of encouragement, she reached for the fastening of his trousers—an eager accomplice in their mutual undressing. The fabric whispered against his skin as she peeled it away, casting it aside without care. They lay forgotten on the floor, a casualty of their fervent desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” 

He’d refrained from the comment earlier, feeling it would only make things harder but at this point it was irrelevant, the pain would come later, for now they would relish in the pleasure as long as it was theirs to claim. For a moment they hesitated but not from fear, not from nervousness, there was just a gentle lull that passed between them. There was peace, warmth and closeness. A subtle shift, a tender adjustment, and Cressida's leg draped over his waist, the gesture as inviting as the crescent moon's arch. It was all the encouragement he needed. Obi-Wan's resolve crumbled like ancient ruins under the caress of time, his hips descending to meet hers with deliberate care.

Cressida's breath caught as Obi-Wan stilled within her, his body taut with restraint. It hadn’t been so long that the sensation was marred by discomfort; rather, it was the realization that Obi-Wan — this man who had been her friend, at times her protector, her unexpected source of solace — was now her lover. 

A shared silence hung heavy as he allowed the tremors that wracked her form to ebb away, leaving in their wake a raw openness she had never before experienced. His gaze locked with hers, a silent question lingering within the depths of his eyes, seeking permission to continue this dance of passion.

With a subtle shift of her hips, Cressida answered him more eloquently than words ever could; a silent plea for more, urging him on. He pulled back, only to rock into her again with a slow, deliberate motion that spoke volumes of his control 

“Kriff!” He’d never heard her swear before the harsh sound made his cock twitch in response.

Seeking her mouth again, he set a slow rhythm, a little too slow for Cressida’s liking and she tried to nudge him into a faster pace but he resisted, instead compromising by punctuating his thrusts with a bit more force. This seemed to satisfy Cressida and she purred his name, laying siege to his exposed neck, taking care not to leave any marks that would send tongues wagging but also strong enough to leave a lasting impression. 

“Cress, let me kiss you.” The neediness in his voice accompanied by his deeper thrusts, prompted her to abandon her pursuits on his skin and she embraced his mouth instead, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

The bed gave a subtle creak but neither noticed it, the room filled with murmurs and desperate breaths in between kisses. There were no barriers between them, physical or otherwise and as the warmth of his skin radiated onto hers, she saw something no one else did. 

And there he was—Obi-Wan the man—stripped of the Jedi mantle that cloaked his humanity. 

Warm, soft, tender, sensual, a bit on the aggressive side but that suited her just fine, every rock of his hips forward saw a wealth of pleasure surging forward as powerful as the force itself and she felt like in that moment with their bodies joined, she could move the very alignment of the planets themselves. 

It had always been of the hard and fast nature with her other lovers but with Obi-Wan, it felt like the force was speaking to her, telling her to slow down and what kind of fool argues with the Force itself?

She wrapped her legs around him and held him back with a little bit of pressure on his hips, stalling his rhythm. 

A softer kiss much like their first seemed to hold his attention and allay his confusion, and when she gave a gentle shove on his chest, he didn’t fight it, falling over onto his side then rolling to his back. Cushioned against the pillow he lay there looking up, letting his breathing even out, she resumed the position he’d held over her, straddling his hips, fingers gliding up his chest, to his lips. Greater than any piece of art that any museum could ever hold, she wanted to enjoy him from this superior angle. 

His lips parted maybe to speak, maybe not but the featherlight touch of her fingers over them stopped any potential words, his tongue darted out to wet his lips and to put a stop to the maddening tingling sensation she was creating as it was growing to be too much. She shushed him gently and kissed her way up his chest taking all the time she wanted. 

The Jedi were not just mere followers of the Force; they were its devout servants. Their strict code governed every aspect of their lives, from their daily habits to their relationships and even their capacity for joy. However, there was one area that the Jedi Council had overlooked: intimacy. Despite the Council's decrees on denying oneself such physical connections, the Force still spoke through this sacred act of creation. She felt no remorse for giving in, as she knew the will of the Force was greater than any man-made rules.

She closed her eyes and reached for his temple creating a physical bond to strengthen what they were sharing, he at first seemed confused by her actions but with a quick adjustment of their positions, she sank down on him. And a surge of something washed over him, more than sex, more than pleasure, more than a bond or a mental connection. Wanting him to experience what she was and the way his eyes went wide saw her intention met. She began a soft rock of her hips and his eyes fluttered closed, letting this new experience take over him. Letting it permeate every inch of his body, all the way down to his bones, he lay content and at peace in tune with the cosmic thrumming of the universe until she broke contact.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her as though he’d seen the soul of force itself, like for the briefest moment he’d held all the answers and all the questions ever possible to behold. He smiled and rested his hands on her hips urging her to move a little more, and she did. Raising herself up slowly before easing back down, his chest rumbled with a groan. This slow sensual pace was perfect, hitting places deep within her, she swayed slightly each time she sank back down on him, and he began thrusting upwards, refusing to close his eyes, not wanting to miss a moment of what he was seeing.

The softness of the rising moonlight cast shadows through the room that cloaked Cressida in shadows, perhaps all too fitting of a metaphor for this night and the future. But he pushed past and chose to ignore that, instead focusing on what he was seeing, she was beautiful, and even if it was just for the night, those few hours that no one would ever know about; she was his.

The slow pace brought about an appreciation he had overlooked when it came to sex, until now it had been a physical release, a fun one but nothing more. Was this what they called love making? It didn’t make sense, how could that be if there was no love between them? Affection? Yes, certainly. Trust? Implicitly. But love? 

No.

He decided not to dwell too deeply on such thoughts and to simply enjoy this, pulling her hips forward with a bit of a jerk and a sharper thrust up, the pace remaining unchanged but punctuated by a bit more force.

He pushed himself into a seated position, spreading his legs to give himself a bit more leverage and wrapping his arms around her, not deterring her rocking hips but to have another kiss and to keep her close. Close enough that he could feel her breath, see the quiver of her lips, pick apart all the shades of gray and ‘almost blue’ in her eyes, close enough to kiss her wherever he wanted. A wayward hand tangled in her hair pulling her mouth against his, swallowing the sound she made when he thrust his hips up sharply. He liked this position, they both held power, he could feel every little jolt of her body, keep her squeezed to him tightly, feel the beat of her heart. It was good but not without its flaws, he could already feel the strain on his back and the ache in his legs but he could hold out for just a little bit longer. 

“Obi-Wan…” 

She wasn’t aware she'd said his name, not until his movements stilled and he gripped her chin to bring her to look at him. His eyes filled with concern but it was fleeting until he realized his name had been uttered in rapture and it satisfied him to no end. 

“Trust me?” She nodded, of course she did.

He held her tightly in his arms as he thrust up, feeling her tightening around him. He could feel himself throbbing with pleasure. A gentle kiss and the caress of their tongues led Obi-Wan to roll them again so they were lying on their sides, with him behind her. Planting kisses on the back of her neck, he brought her leg up over his hip. "Just like this," he guided before slowly sliding back into her warmth, eliciting a groan from both of them. His arms wrapped around her hips, keeping her close as he continued to thrust at this new angle that seemed to bring them both immense pleasure.

“Stars!” She exclaimed. 

“I’ll show you the stars, I promise.” His breathy response as he increased his pace, thrusting faster. 

“You already have.” She replied, slightly out of breath. 

“Close your eyes and see even more.” 

Without questioning him or his intentions, she closed her eyes and let Obi-Wan lead them to a perfect climax. Behind her closed eyelids, there were tiny twinkling lights dancing, soft and gentle. When his hand found its way between her legs, those little orbs exploded like bright shooting stars. He grunted as she tightened around him, causing his steady rhythm to falter slightly. 

“See them?” He gritted through clenched teeth. 

“Show me more!” She demanded. 

He nodded against the back of her neck and began thrusting harder and faster, putting all his weight behind each movement and stealing small gasps of air with each one. His hand never stopped its steady stroking, turning those soft orbs of light into blazing supernovas that lit up the darkness they had both been consumed by, driving it away.

His breathing became erratic, and the crushing weight that had been on his shoulders for days seemed to dissipate. He desperately needed one last thing: a final burst of stimulus.

His left hand remained between her legs, determined not to move until she cried out in ecstasy. As his right hand found her temple and he gently bit down on her earlobe, their years of friendship and intense bond bridged the gap between them. With each rhythmic thrust, they faltered again, until the touch of his hand pushed them over the edge and they were enveloped in a cosmic wave of pure bliss. She cried his name, begged him for more, pleaded for him to take her harder, moving in perfect harmony with him as his body spasmed and he too reached the pinnacle of pleasure, calling out her name in guttural cries. His hold on her temple was too much to maintain, and he lost all sense of rhythm. 

In one last feat of agility, he shifted their positions while still inside her, looming over her as he drove into her with all his remaining strength. Thrusting wildly, each movement accompanied by her cries echoing through the room. Then, she pulled him into a passionate kiss, their lips and tongues meeting in a messy tangle of desire and need. Finally, as the electric shocks running through his body began to subside, they both collapsed in complete exhaustion.

Her chest heaved, eyes finally opening, the storms calmed into a soft overcast, Obi-Wan’s eyes were devoid of any turmoil, swimming with serenity. 

“You’re shaking,” She whispered, he smiled at the observation, as if he could bring himself to stop trembling after that.

“I’ll be fine. Are you alright?” She kissed him deeply, drawing a contented murmur from Obi-wan, he waited for her answer but as the seconds ticked by her lips showed little sign of stopping, moving down his neck. “Cress…” 

“I'm fine, Obi-Wan,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice strained with determination. 

She met his gaze, her legs wrapping tightly around his as their bodies rolled over in a tangled mess of limbs. Obi-Wan's muscles screamed for relief but he couldn't resist her, his body too weak and exhausted in the aftermath of his climax. He looked at her with burning curiosity, knowing that whatever was to come would push him to his limits. 

"Tell me if it's too much," she whispered breathlessly, her fingers digging into his skin. 

"If what's too much?" he gasped, already feeling the strain and pain building within him. But he welcomed it, craving the intensity and challenge.

His words were cut off as she slid him out of her heat and moved down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. Realization dawned on him when she reached his hips and before he could utter another word, her lips were once again wrapped around his cock. A deep groan rumbled from his chest, a combination of the visual pleasure, the knowledge that she was tasting their combined release, and the tingling sensitivity that clawed at him, rendering him truly speechless. 

As she devoured him with her mouth, his eyes rolled back into his head and he couldn't help but moan in ecstasy. The sensation of her velvet lips and insatiable hunger reignited his desire, causing his body to respond once again. His quickly grew hard and thick again, aching for more of her touch. 

"We have all night," Cress purred in between licks, her hand expertly stroking his length just as he had shown her earlier. "And I can sleep on the ship." 

Her words only fueled his fire, knowing that they could continue this pleasurable torment until the sun rose.

The night blurred into a haze of sex, pleasure, and indulgence that few Jedi spoke of or experienced. Wave after wave of carnal release washed over them, pushing them to the brink of pleasure and beyond. As they embraced each other in the throes of passion, the night disappeared into oblivion.

~~~

Morning's rays crept across the bed, a golden snare that caught Obi-Wan's tired lids and pried them open against their will. A groan escaped his lips as he shifted beneath the sheets, the world outside pressing into the fog of his groggy mind. Muscles that had known countless battles now throbbed with an unfamiliar pain—an intimate ache—each movement igniting a cascade of hyperawareness that rippled across his skin.

For a moment, he lingered in the half-light of dawn, floating on the edge of consciousness. He grappled with the tendrils of sleep, trying to recall the events that led to such soreness, such profound fatigue. But memory was elusive, slipping through his mental grasp like sand through fingers. 

His breath hitched as clarity struck, ice water in the veins, and Obi-Wan bolted upright. The room spun briefly before settling into its mundane familiarity: the stoic walls, the simple furnishings—a refuge from a galaxy in turmoil. Yet something was amiss, a disturbance that sent his heart skittering.

He scanned the space, eyes landing with a dull ache on the untouched expanse beside him. The sheets there were cool, meticulously straightened, void of the warmth of another's presence. A pang of loss clutched at Obi-Wan, an echo of the coldness of that vacant place.

His gaze drifted, taking in the tidiness of the room—the orderliness that spoke of solitude. His boots, once haphazardly discarded in the throes of passion, now stood sentinel by the wall. His robes, their folds speaking of careful hands, rested on the chair alongside his lightsaber, a silent guardian within arm's reach.

Silence hung heavy where laughter and whispered confidences should have filled the air. The table, now barren, gave no sign of the shared meal it had hosted—no crumbs, no lingering scent of spice or sweetness. It was as though the night prior had been carefully erased, leaving behind only the tangible tokens of his own existence.

Obi-Wan's throat tightened, the emptiness in the room mirroring the hollow sensation within his chest. Where warmth had been, there was now only the stark reminder of isolation—a contrast as sharp as the blade he wielded. His hands clenched into fists, the ghost of another's touch still haunting his skin, as he faced the day alone.

She was gone.

He lay there for a moment, the weight of her absence settling over him like a shroud. The room seemed to echo with the remnants of their passion, a tangible thing that he could almost reach out and touch. It hadn't been romantic – no, such things were not for Jedi – but it had been real.

Obi-Wan rose and dressed silently, his movements mechanical. His fingers brushed over the spot where her lightsaber had rested, and he wondered if the yellow blade felt as cold and alone as he did now.

Despite everything, he couldn't regret what had transpired. Last night, they had shed their roles and simply existed as two beings seeking solace in one another. There was beauty in that, he thought, and a connection that went beyond the physical.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Time to reforge his resolve, to take up the mantle of mentor to Anakin.

But first, he allowed himself one final indulgence – a lingering touch on the pillow where her head had lain, a silent promise to remember the feel of her lips, the sound of her laughter mingling with his own.

Then, just as the first rays of dawn splashed gold across the floor, Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out into the day. Alone, yet forever altered. He looked out to the rising sun that shed its light over Coruscant and murmured to the stillness knowing she would never hear it.

"May the Force be with you, Cressida."

~~~

Phew! Well, hope that gives you guys a little of what you were looking for and some more insight into Obi-Wan and Cressida's past! If you like this then please feel free to reblog, like, comment, and let me know your thoughts! Alright! Now we can get back to getting these two crazy kids back together! @heyhawtdawgs. @split-spectrum(because you're a fan of the man! I thought you'd like this too!) @pickleprickle @burnthecheshirewitch @decembermidnight

You guys are the best cheer readers I could ask for! See you in the next chapter!

[oliversrarebooks]

Hey I’ve been following for a while and really enjoy your writing 💖 and if you don’t mind talking about it, I’ve been wondering about your process a bit, as in how often do you write and how much do you tend to get done?

I ask partially because I’ve been considering starting a writing blog of my own but problem is I’m really slow as a writer 😅 like it can take me a day to do half a page and I can’t shake the habit of rereading and editing as I go. You post pretty regularly so you seem to have a good technique going, and I think you’ve said something about having adhd in the past??? I have it too so if Im remembering correctly then you probably understand how productivity can be a struggle. I guess I’m hoping to pick up some wisdom from someone in a similar boat

Anyways, sorry for rambling, keep up the good work and hope you’re having a good day ☺️

Getting faster at writing is just a skill you can develop over time, I think, and even then, some people will be faster than others and that's okay! Instead of worrying about doing half a page in a day, you could try writing 100 words a day for a while, for instance. Writing a smaller amount more frequently will eventually get drafts done.

I've been writing for a while and I tend to be reasonably fast, but a lot of that is practice and planning. I'm often writing from a loose outline of how the scene will go, and for my bigger projects, I have a big picture outline with notes, too. Writing for me is fastest when I treat coming up with the ideas, scene progression, dialogue etc. as a different activity, especially because the "thinking" parts can be done while doing chores or commuting etc. I do Nano each year and there's no way I could ever finish it if I weren't writing from outlines.

I try to write each day and aim for 400-500 words a session, but I often do have to skip days for various life reasons.

I'm only recently diagnosed with ADHD so I don't have any great productivity tips! The entire reason I ended up getting diagnosed was because my productivity was driven almost entirely by anxiety and the stress was literally killing me. I'm trying to get into a healthier mindset now, especially now that I have appropriate meds.

One of my big ADHD-related problems was being unable to ever feel accomplished -- even big accomplishments always feel more like "welp that's one tiny thing done but I still have a mountain to go". That's one of the mindsets I need to shed and remind myself that writing something like Bookseller in my spare time is a pretty good accomplishment!

I feel like maybe I see some of that in your ask, where you're being hard on yourself for writing a half a page. Even if it took you a while -- maybe especially if it took you a while -- that's still something you get to be proud of. No one else is going to tell the story you have in your head in the way you would tell it, after all.

[anony-man]

Been looking forward to this one… thanks for requesting!

Chubformers drabble #53!

Character: Breakdown (& Knock Out - TFP)

Word count: 707

“Honey, I’m home~”

The cheesy earth greeting was met with silence as Knock Out swung the door to their home open and sauntered inside. The wide, cocky smile grew smaller and smaller as he scanned the living room, then the kitchen, then the hall for any sign of his conjux. As far as he could tell, Breakdown was nowhere to be found. And yet…

“Breakdown,” Knock Out called again in a sing-song voice as he headed for their berthroom. If his partner wasn’t to be seen in the kitchen, then maybe there. “Come on, where’s my big hunk at when I need him? I missed you today.”

The surgeon headed for their room and kicked the door open with as much bravado as he could muster. At the sight of an empty berth and folded sheets, Knock Out’s fading smile officially twisted into a displeased frown. He crossed his arms and glanced around the room, somehow still remaining unconvinced that Breakdown could have simply gotten up and walked off. It just wasn’t possible… at least, not anymore.

“If something’s going on here, it better not involve you,” he muttered under his breath, now marching through the halls with a lot less excitement and a lot more annoyance, “or else I swear to Primus, Breaky, you and I are going to have a word—“

In hindsight, it seemed a little ridiculous not to have checked the pantry in the first place. Aside from the collection of high quality bottles of engex Knock Out insisted they keep stored in the fridge, all of their fuel and snacks was always kept in the pantry. It wasn’t easy access, which made it perfect for Knock Out to keep feeding sessions in his own control…

…but horrible for when Breakdown was experiencing another bout of anxiety.

Shoving the door open was hardly an option, and Knock Out immediately discovered this after the hinges nearly snapped in swinging it back shut. The lights above and stock on the shelves was blocked by a massive wall of fat and rolls, and Knock Out was rewarded with a startled “oh!” for his efforts. After putting two and two together, Knock Out realized what was going on.

Breakdown, mere pounds away from becoming bedbound and far too far to make it out of their room on his own, had gotten himself stuck. Again.

“Oh, Breakdown,” Knock Out groaned, having managed to wedge the door open just wide enough to give Breakdown a disapproving shake of his helm. From where he stood trapped in the pantry, his chubby conjux could do little more than turn his helm just enough to catch the surgeon’s gaze, and he practically oozed shame and humiliation from his expression alone.

It was fine, Knock Out thought with a sigh. This was fine. They could fix it. And fix it they did, with plenty of shower solvent and expensive wax from Knock Out’s personal collection. Once they’d finally managed to wedge all of Breakdown’s blubbery rolls from the confines of their pantry, Knock Out led his panting, sweating partner over to their washracks for a much needed pampering.

“We’ve talked about this, Breakdown,” Knock Out said in between squeezing and rubbing the folds of Breakdown’s belly. The wrecker still refused to meet his optics, but Knock Out never relented in rubbing soothing circles into his rumbling middle. “You know I don’t mind helping you. I love it, in fact.”

“I know,” Breakdown said, struggling to fiddle with his fingers over the span of his belly. The nervous habit was one he frequently indulged in, but the increase in size made it rather difficult to reach. “I know. I just—well, I just—“

“Ah ah ah,” Knock Out said, a sudsy finger lifted to Breakdown’s chubby face. “I’ll have none of that from you tonight, mister. We can talk more *after*. Right now, you’re gonna let me do my thing… deal?”

Breakdown was silent, his optics soft with worry, his brow furrowed. He thought over the words for a moment, visibly mulling them over in his processor.

“You promise?” He asked, voice soft and small.

Just like when he had arrived, Knock Out’s grin was as wide as it could be. “Promise.”

[fizzing-imagines]

Hellfire After Hours | Billy Hargrove x Plus Size! Alt! Reader

Notes: I've tried uploading this 20 times now until I realized that tumblr won't let me post until I delete the entire smut scene. So here y'all have the censored version (u can dm me for the smut scene lol). Please note that reader is female in this and don't be hard on me, this is my first time writing smut. Big thank you to @billyssillywilly for helping me out. Enjoy!

Bad End: Here

Good End: Here

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing and sexual innuendos

Word Count: 2.5k-ish

Billy wasn't supposed to look twice when you passed by him. You hung out with the freaks, blasted Black Sabbath when pulling into the parking lot, wore dark makeup and ripped clothes. In addition, you had a few extra pounds to you. There was nothing he should be attracted to, but yet he was. He couldn't stop imagining your blood red lips wrapped around his dick, and grabbing your plushy hips while slamming into you. He wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes even further while making you tell him what you do with your freak-friend Gareth Emerson every other day after school. And he hated you for it. He despised you more than anyone else in the school for something that was entirely his fault. And he has tried everything to get you down. Billy has called you a cow, fatso, lard-ass, you name it, he said it to you. But last time, when he called you a quarter pounder, all you said was "At least I get pounded." and it made his dick twitch. And he hated Gareth for getting what he wanted so desperately, but what he hated more was that Gareth not only didn't care what he had to say but also that you protected him. That freak wasn't even your boyfriend, for fuck sake.

Billy Hargrove hated you like nothing else in Hawkins High.

"He's starring again.", Gareth mumbled to you at lunch. The two of you were seated at your table, waiting for your other friends to join. "Who?", you asked with a half-full mouth of mac and cheese. "Hargrove.", your friend-with-benefits replied. All you did was shrug your shoulders and put another fork full of your food in your mouth. "Let him. What is he gonna do, tell me to eat less food?" The last three words were spoken in a mocking tone. Gareth chuckled at your words and looked back at his food, but not before sneaking a glance at your boobs that were practically squeezing out of your Coroded Coffin tube top. You didn't comment since you couldn't blame him. One thing you were confident in is your looks - and you knew that Billy has been thirsting after you. Did you hate him? Yes, absolutely, but knowing that he secretly wanted to bang you was hilarious and such a treat. Speaking of the devil:

"Hey fattie.", Billy called over before standing next to you. "You ain't gonna loose weight if you keep eating junk like a pig." All you did was giggle at his words before replying: "Are you sure you want me to loose weight? My tits would be so much smaller, and I know how much you love starring at them." Billy was flabbergasted for a good second before scoffing and turning heel to walk away, but not before calling you a cow. "You know, I think you'll eventually regret talking to him like that.", Gareth said before eating a fork full of salad. "Oh really? What is the big manbaby gonna do?" You laughed and continued eating.

Just like your friends, you were in the Hellfire Club. Eddie had another campaign, a really good one, but your sorcerer died in a kamikaze attack to save Gareth the Great just an hour into the game. It frustrated you that you had to sit there for two more hours without doing anything, even though you loved listening to how Eddie led his campaign. The party and the campaign were finished after three hours total, leaving you as the next dungeon master for the following two sessions. As always, you volunteered to clean up after everyone so you left last. What you didn't expect was the basketball team to finish at the same time today. They were always done long before Hellfire finished up, so you saw them loading their cars as you walked out of the school. You threw your D&D books in your trunk while hearing the remaining cars driving away. Just as you thought you were alone while slamming your trunk shut, someone stood next to you. "What do you want?", you asked in a condescending tone while putting your school bag into the passenger seat. "You got a real big mouth, you know that?" He fumbled a cigarette out while talking - and he looked pissed. "You know, for someone who will always be a single imbecile. You should be nice, at least if you have to be fat." You scoffed at his words while leaning against your car. Any other day than today you would've made a passing comment, get behind the wheel and drive away. But now, after having your character be killed at the beginning of the campaign, being yelled at by your gym teacher and now Billy saying this you've had it. "You know, you're gonna be one of those husbands who yells at his wife to make him a sandwich and get divorced three times." He glared at you, even though he provoked you. "And your kids won't talk to you. They'll let you rot away in a nursing home while you wonder why nobody loves you." He got closer and looked down on you, probably hoping to intimidate you. It didn't work. "You'll never get the pleasure of a wife who will make you lunch for work and homemade cookies for desert. There is nothing but sadness, Billy." He blew the smoke from his cigarette in your face and pit it out on the roof of your car. "What are you gonna do, huh? Punch me? Do it. Fucking do it, you pussy." You didn't care anymore, the words were spit from your mouth, right at his face. You were fed up with him and his bullshit. But Billy, who cares too much, grabbed you by your jaw and pushed your back against your own car. Admittedly, you were a bit scared now but in some sick way...it made you horny. He looked beyond pissed, a storm was brewing in his eyes, his jaw clenched and nostrils widened. And you couldn't think of anything more attractive. "I hate you, so much.", he hissed out. "How can you not be miserable, looking the way you do." It wasn't a question towards you. More so, he asked himself how you can be happy while he had to suffer by himself. Billy felt how a lump formed in his throat, but he knew he couldn't cry. Not in public, and especially not in front of you.

What you didn't know was that Neil shoved Billy into his bookshelf this morning. He shoved him so hard that the bookshelf almost fell on top of him and his back was bruised. But he couldn't cry - he had to get Max and him to school. All day, it kept building up. His team lost in gym class, he failed math and had to explain that to Neil now, he got detention and now you read him like a book. Everything build up, and it became too much. He needed a way to let it out. That way was you.

"Dude, it's okay to cry.", you told him with a raised eyebrow. "Just do that shit in your car. I'm not your therapist." Billy let you push him off of you easily, giving you the chance to get in your car and drive off.

After that incident, Billy left you alone for two weeks. Even when his friends wanted to tease you, he just told them that you're not worth it and walked away. Gareth, knowing you enough, noticed it at the beginning of week two. "What's with Hargrove?", he asked you while giving you his desert cookie. With a grin, you took it from him while saying: "What's supposed to be with him?" Gareth looked past your head to see Billy eating at the popular kids table without starting a conversation. Only a short glance at you sometimes. "Keeps looking at you, but hasn't said anything in, what, a week?" You smirked at Gareth, winked at him and asked: "Jealous?", which was followed by your other friends at the table, aka Corroded Coffin, making gagging noises. "No seriously, what is it with him?", Gareth kept pushing. You haven't told any of them what had happened with Billy, you didn't want to tell nor have them know. But now that Gareth noticed, they won't stop asking until you told them what had happened. So you told them, whispered everything you could remember to them just quietly enough for nobody to overhear, conveniently leaving out the part where his anger turned you on. Jeff sat open-mouthed without saying a word, Gareth and his best friend started talking about how much of an asshole he is while Eddie sat and watched the other react. "It's not a big deal, seriously.", you reassured them while unpacking your cookie. "His ego is bruised, so what? Big deal." The four guys shared a look while you took a bite of your cookie. What were they on about now? "What?", you asked with a mouth full of food. "Nothing, jeez.", Gareth said before starting to eat his own food again. Eddie changed the topic to D&D after a while, saying he was excited to finish your own campaign later today.

The rest of the day went by fast, but not only for you. Billy couldn't get you out of his mind ever since he pinned you against your car. He was angry at first, not wanting to admit his attraction to you and still asking himself, why you? Then his anger directed itself at your friend, fucking Gareth Emerson, who got anything he wanted from you. At the same time fear got the best of him, because what if Gareth got to you first? What if he took what he thought was his, even though you didn't even pay attention to him when he didn't try to provoke you. And he was convinced that he only wanted to fuck you, but when he thought of you being with Gareth, kissing him, holding his hand or going to some stupid prom with him it made him furious. He didn't want that to happen. So then he got sad, because any chance he might have had with you was out of the window. Who would date someone that called them fat on a regular basis? And since when did he want to date anybody? Nothing made sense to him anymore, so he decided to get to his senses after your D&D session. He patiently waited in front of the theatre room, where your club held it's sessions and listened to you leading the campaign through the door. Your voice was filled with nothing but happiness and excitement as you spoke, and your laugh sounded heavenly to him. His heart started beating faster as he heard the party celebrate their victory and pack up their things. Once again, you volunteered to clean up their leftover cans, snacks and put the figurines away. All four other party members let out a disapproving scoff as they saw Billy leaning against the wall next to the door but he just ignored them and glared at Gareth before going in.

Your back was turned as you sorted the little figurines to each member of Hellfire. You made all of them put their initials on the bottom of each figure that belonged to them after switching figurines up regularly. Eddie started calling you mom after that in a joking manner, even though you were a year younger than him. Not even the door shutting concerned you since you thought it were the boys leaving. Only when you heard a familiar voice say "Quite the view." you turned around to see Billy standing in the room. "What do you want?", you asked him in an annoyed tone. Hellfire Club was the only place where he left you alone, and you wanted to keep it that way. "Look, I'm not here to fight, okay? Just wanna talk." He came closer to you and placed a hand on each side of the table next to you, cornering you once more. "You can do that while respecting my personal space.", you said to him while pressing your back into the table. "You'd run off if I did.", he said. "Listen, (Y/N), I have something to tell you." You can't remember a scenario where he called you by your first name. "The times I was mean to you-" You interrupted him. "You bullied me. Or tried to." Billy just nodded once before continuing "Yeah, bullied you, I guess." What a good start, he thought. "I was...trying to get you to hate me-" You interrupted him once more. "I kind of do, actually." He sighted at your interruption. "Let me finish, please.", he said while trying to hold back his annoyed tone. You simply nodded and let him continue. "I was trying to get you to hate me, because I didn't want to admit to the fact that I like you." He waited for you reaction, but all you did was grin and giggle. "Oh, I know you like me Billy.", you said. "You made it very obvious." There was silence between you two before you spoke again. "I'll let you get in my pants if you promise to be a good boy afterwards." Billy grinned at you, lifted you up the table and started kissing you.

The next hour was a blur. All you could remember was how good you felt, that you moaned his name over and over again and begged him for more. "You okay?", Billy asked you while picking up his and your clothes. "Can't feel my legs..", you mumbled in a tired tone. He chuckled, helped you to sit up on the table and got you dressed. "Let me drive you home.", he said while pulling your shirt over your head. "Are your parents home or anyone I need to make an excuse for?" He lifted your legs up to get your thong back on you. "No, they're in Austin for some business conference. Big sister moved to Tampa years ago, just me and my pet frog." Billy helped you get up from the table, you stood on shaky legs as you looked around the room. "Need to sort the figurines again.", you mumbled as you walked over to the table like a baby deer. "Let me help you, sweetheart." Billy picked up the figurines and dice that were scattered on the ground. "There's the boys initials on the bottom, just put them in piles." You were too distracted with not collapsing due to your legs giving out that you didn't noticed how Billy snagged one of Gareths figurines.

After cleaning up, Billy drove you home. He got you into your room, helped you remove your makeup and get changed into your pyjamas. "Didn't you say that you liked me?", you asked as he tucked you in. "I did, yeah.", he replied with a smile. "Wanna stay the night?" Billy looked down on you. He saw you without your dark makeup for the first time, and you were still so beautiful to him. "If I can take you out after school.", he said while taking off his clothes. You thought about it for a bit before agreeing and he slipped into bed next to you. "Sleep well, sweetheart.", Billy whispered. He turned off your nightlight, gave you a kiss on your forehead and wrapped his arms around your body before both of you drifted off to sleep.

It's been a month since that incident. Billy held his promise and started taking you out every other day, didn't make comments in school anymore and told everyone who tried to to fuck off. First, you stopped having sex with Gareth after week one, then Eddie eventually caught you and Billy making out after school so you had to tell them that you have been seeing him behind their back. And it took them a while to cope with it, especially because this was Billy Hargrove dating a freak, but they accepted it when they saw that you were even happier than before. Billy officially asked you to be his girlfriend a few days ago, much to your friends dismay. "(Y/N), look at this.", Gareth said while looking at something in his locker next to you. His D&D figurine, the one of his character, was laying in his locker. "Told you it would turn up again.", you said to him with a grin. You never told any of the boys what happened that night on the table, and you assumed Billy stole the figure for whatever reason. "Maybe one of the theatre kids found it.", you added while going back to your locker. "Yeah, but it's been, what, three weeks? A month?", your friend continued. "Just be happy it's back." You picked out the books for your next class and put them in your bag, then fished out a plastic bag filled with cookies you and your father made last night. Billy has walked past your locker between every 4th and 5th period since he asked you to be his girlfriend, so you just waited for him to pass by. "See you later.", Gareth said to you while shutting his locker and walking off to his next class. "See ya.", you said while fixing your hair in the mirror you had in your locker. "Hey, sweetheart.", a familiar voice behind you said. The reflection of Billy was in your mirror, to what you turned around with a smile. "Hey there.", you said with a smile. The two of you shared a kiss before you handed him the bag. "I made this for you.", you proudly told him, still smiling. Billy took the ziplock bag from your hands, looked at the content inside it and smiled. "Thought I'd never have the pleasure of homemade cookies.", he said in a teasing tone.

"Well, you earned that pleasure."

[scalproie]

So. I can't stop.

---

"What's a mother?"

The two souls, previously deeply engaged in their conversation, flinched at the voice of the young hellborn prince, who was peeking just behind their seats, brown eyes huge and eager to learn about the world.

The souls shared a look, and would no doubt be sweating if they still were in a possession of a body.

"Well, um... y-you see, Your Highness-"

---

"There is only me and you."

"You said that already, Father!"

The sparring room always made Jin feel small, smaller than he was anyway. His father only ever trained him in a single corner. Jin had no idea why it was even called that in the first place: Kazuya never granted access to it to anybody, and even then, no one admidst all levels of Hell was even close to be his match.

The room was mainly used for training anyway: it was important to Kazuya that Jin was proficient in their family's fighting style, so he personally took to supervise his son's education himself. Jin loved those sessions, not for the complex forms and stances he had to practice over and over, but because he got to spend time with his dad.

And Kazuya was always more patient with him during these moments, for some reason.

Hence why training time was also synonymous with interrogation time.

"I know it's just the two of us, its just-"

"Mind your feet."

"It's just that everyone I know has a mother. Or had one anyway. Or even is one. Everyone had one except me. Even Hell Embodied acts like your-"

Jin felt the intensity of Kazuya's stare. The Drop it. stare, he dubbed it. Right. However Hell Embodied acted toward its king aside, making any subtle mention of Jin's grandmother, whoever she was, was coming dangerously close to the topic of Jin's grandfather, and that was a big no-no.

Jin closed his mouth and swallowed, until Kazuya's eyes left him to go back to scrutinizing every little movement of his son, dealing him easy blows to block.

"Keep your elbows up."

"I-I guess I just want to figure out more stuff about myself. I mean I don't even know what I'm supposed to be the god of."

"You're my son. That's all that matters."

"Maybe, but if you could just tell me where I come from or how I came to be... I don't know, I just want to know more."

"You haven't earned the right to know more."

Kazuya never lied. Jin knew as much because it was one of the first thing his father taught him: to never lie.

For Kazuya, lying was just a way to hide weakness, and if you had to hide weakness, then you were just weak. And if there is one thing Jin, at his young age, learned that his father hated more than lying, it was weakness.

So, as Jin will find out later in his life, in order to keep the truth away from him, Kazuya simply would not say anything, if he could help it. Coming up with that sentence was a time and lifesaver.

"But you never tell me how to do that!" Jin pouted sadly. It was useless on Kazuya. "What can I do to earn it?"

He barely had the time to finish voicing his question that Jin was swept off his feet and landed hard on his back with a yelp.

"The first step would be not to leave such obvious openings, Jin."

---

"Maybe it's just like for us phoenixes!"

Xiaoyu was sitting on the windowsill in front of Jin, swaying her legs back and forth. Jin lifted his chin from his knuckle and turned his head around to look at her.

"What do you mean?"

Xiaoyu was his first friend his own age. Well, who aged alongside him, however slow they were. Who even aged at all really. She might also have just been his first friend ever.

She started showing up at the House of the Dead not that long ago, she was a young phoenix and, by her own admission, her bubbly happy-go-lucky personality usually gave her quite the issue to stay out of trouble on the surface. It doesn't help that she never really had the fear of death either.

She was still strong enough to climb back out of Hell on her own, though it often took almost as long for her to get out than for her to spend time on the surface before dying again.

Jin loved her visits because she always spoke in great lengths of what was on said surface and whatever she had seen and experienced, and he was always more than happy to listen. Even if his father had the same disdain for her as he would a mere pest, Jin respected her and even bore a bit of admiration.

"When we die, we turn into a pile of ashes, right? Well, if you divide the pile in two and someone very close to you bury half of it in the ground, when next you rise out of your ashes and you dig where half of you was buried, you will find an egg and that's how you get a baby phoenix! No mother involved! At least, that's what my yeye told me."

"I'm... not sure it works that way for us." Jin wasn't sure it worked that way for pheonixes either.

"It could though! You gods are such weird creatures. And besides! It would make us have something in common."

Her honest smile made him smile in return. Maybe she was right, maybe his origin being so vague did not have to matter so much if she could take her own in spades. Maybe he could just enjoy being himself.

The hole in the most profound part of his soul begged to differ.

Still, he appreciated her attempt to cheer him up more than he could ever tell her. With her black and orange foreign clothing and sheer warmth that emanated out of her, she was like a literal ray of sunshine that never would've made its way to him otherwise.

"Or maybe you can count the mother as the one who bury the ashes?"

"Wait, did you just imply you hatched from an egg?"

---

"Can I help you with anything, Father?"

"No."

"Oh."

Jin was pacing besides Kazuya's desk. He was a polite young man, never wanting to impose, as reserved as his father was, but eventually even he could not deal with his own boredom any longer.

"Could you still teach me anyway? Maybe that way I could, you know, fill in for you in case you ever wanted to... take a break?"

"No."

Well that was another unsuccessful attempt at purpose-seeking. Jin paced the halls of his home, having done so more times than he could count. Maybe that was his fate, haunting the House of the Dead. How ironic.

He even considered going chatting with his father's annoying jester, so something was clearly wrong with him.

He found his salvation in two shades having trouble with repairing one of the gemstones counting device, and he happened to have a knack for this kind of tinkering. After the two souls thanked him, they informed him his services might be needed somewhere else, in an adjacent wing of the house that Jin never went to often for lack of anything interesting over there.

He made his way to the location that was way, way more secluded than he expected. To his surprise there was no one but him there. Just him, and a door bearing a busted sigil of his father. Evidently the thing that needed repairing.

Well, nothing he can do about that one, but it meant that whatever door it was sealing was now open, and if it was a storage room for one of his father's fabled collections, then at least he would have some story to tell, and some bets to win.

He barely cracked open the door when his nose was assaulted by unknown and vivid smells.

What he saw inside blew all that he thought he knew away.

He stepped inside shaking like the leaves he stepped upon, not quite believing his eyes. Grass? Plants? Were those... flowers? And that-

Jin gasped. "A tree..."

As he made his way deeper inside, no daring to touch anything, focused on the massive cedar tree in front of him, he felt a weight upon his chest.

Eugh. What was this place?

Neverminding the unease, he kept going forward, toward the tree that felt more and more like it was calling him.

He stopped a moment in the middle of the garden. It felt like.

It felt like he belonged.

He raised his hand without meaning to, like the blood inside it was attracted to the bark. Like it was yearning for it.

It was almost burning at the touch. And yet. And yet it was smooth. It was strong.

He looked at his hand. That wasn't his hand. It was slender, softer.

Then it was like he was projected out of his own body, except it wasn't his body. It was a woman, with long black hair, dressed in white, her back turned to him.

He couldn't breathe.

She slowly turned around, and her face brought back old, old, old memories. Of some place else. That barely lasted a second.

He looked at her eyes.

Dark, rich brown.

Mother?

---

"What happened to my mother?"

All heads turned to Jin as he stormed inside the throne room, the last to lazily do so was Kazuya's.

"I ought to keep you busy if all you're gonna do with your endless time is bothering me with pointless things."

"I found the garden."

Oh, how Jin basked in the pause that information gave Kazuya.

A simple motion of the king's hand was all it took for all souls present to clear the room. Even as people hurried past him, Jin kept his eyes on his father, who was doing much the same.

When the place was empty save for the both of them and the doors closed with a heavy sound, then Kazuya spoke again.

"How did you-"

"She's out there, isn't she? She's on the surface, is she from there?" Jin felt manic. All this time, all this time, at any moment, Kazuya could've told him, all along he could've relieved the void in Jin's heart. Jin never felt such anger, the back of his eyes started to hurt, something threatening to break out. "Does she know about me...?"

Kazuya stayed silent, it was clear on his face that he, too, was wrestling with many many thoughts at the same time. He had many things to say, and he picked the worst option.

"You do not have ea-"

"Enough! You keep saying that! All my life you've been saying that!"

Jin was through with trying to earn. Jin was going to get.

"Father, if you say I haven't earned the right to know one more time I swear I'll-"

"YOU'LL WHAT? WHAT WILL YOU DO, JIN?"

Kazuya slammed his hands on the desk before him and rose from his throne. As much as Jin steeled himself for this confrontation, he could not stop his body to jerk back at the sound. It wasn't that he was scared of his father, no, it's just that Kazuya rarely ever shouted, never really needed to, so to hear him lash out that suddenly was... shocking.

What Jin hated more than his own reaction though, was the strange feeling in his chest upon hearing his father say his name for the first time in what felt like forever.

Unaware, or not caring, of the turmoil happening within Jin, Kazuya continued:

"Tell me how you will succeed in demanding anything of me where even the so-called "strongest" have failed before you? Tell me what you plan to do as you defy your king, your kin? There is only us. There will only ever be us. Are you that eager to write the next chapter of our family's bloody legacy?!"

Jin fell silent.

Was that it? Is that what the neglect, the distance, the privation was about? Was Kazuya expecting Jin to kill him for good eventually? To take his place? Was that all Jin was to him? A future rival? A threat-in-waiting? Did he thought so lowly of him?

Was he scared of his own son?

That selfish fool, that stubborn old...

Kazuya feared that Jin would kill him?

In this moment, Jin just might.

"Why keep-"

"Speak up."

"Why keep me at all then? You could've just gotten rid of me ages ago, threw me away far from this place, and you, there could only just be you" The sarcastic tone Jin wanted to carry gave way to something more coarse, more raw. Neither father nor son were good at hiding their true emotions. "You could've freed yourself from all... this."

Knowing the answer to this emptiness, this missing piece, that Jin felt for all his life was finally within reach gave him the courage to go on, to openly provoke Kazuya for the first time.

"Is that what you did? To her?"

The only thing Jin heard next from his father was a spark.

Then the pain registered. A shock so brutal and intense Jin could feel spasms reverberating throughout all of his body, long after he realized his father's fist was already gone. His fingers kept twitching on their own, his teeth clenched on their own, his eyes shut on their own.

He dropped to the floor, clutching at his abdomen when he recovered the control of his hands, and when he could breathe once more he fully tasted the metallic smell of the surrounding electricity.

Right. The King of Hell was the son of the old Lightning God, first.

Kazuya was now towering over Jin. Has he always been that fast? The fist that was lodged just a second ago below Jin's chest still clenched and shaking at his father's side, his facial traits were sharpened by the ominous red glow of his eyes. His voice was glacial.

"Hellborn Prince, you are to be confined to your chambers until told otherwise. Do not expect to be let out anytime soon."

"I'm going to leave, Father, I'm going to break out of this place," Jin managed as he struggled to get off the floor, his own voice burning with determination. "You cannot keep things as they were, you cannot keep me here, I'll leave even if it kills me."

The massive doors cracked open to let in the previously dismissed servants. Suddenly the silent throne room became loud again as guards swarmed in, their captain Bruce kneeling and lending a worried hand to help Jin up. Kazuya turned around to walk back to his throne.

"Take him."

Jin swatted Bruce's hand away as he got to his feet, eyes boring a hole to the back of his father's head, before following suite and making his own way for the open doors.

Take him? What is this. Is Jin officially a prisoner now? Those are still his chambers. He doesn't need anyone to take him to his own chambers. What his father should very soon worry about is how to keep him in them, that is a promise.

As he was about to exit the room, Jin took a last glare in the direction of the throne. Kazuya had just resumed dominating the room, seated upon it once more. He was also staring at Jin.

Deep brown eyes met sharp red eyes once more.

I will leave, even if it kills me.

Jin walked out.

Kazuya rested his chin on his knuckle.

"It will."

[astroyongie]

begging on my knees for a sukuna a-z alphabet

A To Z Analysis: NSFW

Sukuna

A = Aftercare 

He thinks beforehand. he makes sure to have things prepared. Sukuna isn't the type to talk during aftercare, he simply provides a warm bath or snacks

B = Body part 

he loves his partner's thighs, gripping and biting them. he might love to have a screwed face looking at him too. He is equally proud of his body in general

C = Cum 

he is not really messy and he keeps it easy so its easier to clean. Usually he uses the condom or he finished on his partner's smaller backs

D = Dirty secret

He has a tone of pictures and videos of you in his phone that he uses on himself

E = Experience

he isnt as experienced as one can think, he is learns quickly and he knows what he is doing the moment he gets a grip on his partner's body

F = Favorite position 

He loves doggy style as mat pressing or he also likes missionary but with that one leg over his shoulder

G = Goofy 

he isn't the type to crack jokes or to be funny during the deed. sure he can smirk and be cocky but he wont be humorous as he is too focused

H = Hair

either on him and his partner he wants well groomed and clean. nothing too crazy but bare isnt acceptable either

I = Intimacy 

he doesn't need to be in love to sleep with soemoen but he needs to trust them

J = Jack off 

he does it often, mostly when he is overly stressed with his work

K = Kink 

he is a simple man where his kinks involve mostly dominance play and control play over his partner and the situation. He also likes punishment play and scents (especially his partner's perfume)

L = Location 

He will always prefer the security of his bedroom, although he won't mind to do it on his working place like his office for exemple or where ehe practices

M = Motivation 

he is easy to motivate but his self control is unshakable. He will lean you on until you are begging for him

N = No 

He will say no to anything that will permanently scar you or hurt you. He also has boundaries and limits and when it comes to someone he loves he doesn't want any weird kink involved

O = Oral 

he loves receiving it more than he gives. although he gives such good head those only happen in special occasions. receiving however is a good way to get things steamy

P = Pace 

Sukuna is a slow yet rough pacer. he is only fast when angry

Q = Quickie 

not really into those, he doesn't like the fact that things have to happen fast

R = Risk 

He is willing to take risks as long as they are spoken beforehand and that it doesnt cross any of his boundaries

S = Stamina 

this boy can be long and he knows how to make himself last as well. usually sessions are about 45 minutes long

T = Toys 

he doesn't mind them if they are used on you and only during punishment sessions

U = Unfair

HE IS THE MASTER OF UNFAIRNESS. this guy will either deny you all the orgasms of the world, making you cry out of frustration or he will stimulate you until you lose consciousness

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn't that loud, or at least he tries not to be because it's embarrassing to him. but often he can't help the grunts and the low moans

W = Wild card 

This man when angry he would try to punish you by torturing you. He sill restrain you to the bed, put a toy on you on a low setting so you can get off with it. and he will proceed by touching himself and finishing while you watch unable to do anything

X = X-ray 

boi is... big and thick and veiny

Y = Yearning 

high sex drive

Z = Zzz

after the deed he is ready to focus on other things, mostly on his responsibilities. he isnt the type to fall asleep after

[pjsk-writin]

Hi!! First time requesting <3, but could you do pjsk boy celebrating their s/o birthday hcs? (bonus if s/o used to be sad on their birthday maybe because they have trauma or something)

Take your time and feel free to deny this♥️

hihi !! idk if your birthday has even passed/already happened yet, but I hope you like this !! <3

♡ BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION - Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi, Tsukasa Tenma and Rui Kamishiro x Reader

Akito:

Akito usually doesn't throw celebrations for people, but you're special!

He knew that you didn't really like celebrating your birthday considering your past, so he decides to throw a smaller party

He invites your friends and VBS, and An reserves a part of the WEEKEND GARAGE for the party

On your birthday, he tells you that VBS is having a practice and asks you to come along

Much to your surprise, your friends and VBS all pop up and wish you a happy birthday

They have a karaoke session, and Akito spends most of the time just messing around with you

Everyone has gifts for you, and Akito's is a scrapbook messily put together with the help of Kohane along with an outfit he thought you'd like

He pulls you into a hug, giving you a little grin. "Happy birthday, babe."

Toya:

Toya also doesn't throw celebrations for people, but you're a special person!

He knew that you would get sad on your birthday, so he decides to take it slow with you

He keeps the celebration small, at his house with just the two of you. He keeps your friends on standby just in case you want to see them

On your birthday, he asks you to come over to his house for a normal hangout

When you arrive, his kitchen is full of small birthday decorations, and he's standing in the middle with a sheepish grin

He made food for you (with the help of An), and the two of you just sat together and talked

He gifts you a book he'd like you to read and gives you a little piano performance!

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, kissing your cheek. "Happy birthday, I hope you liked it."

Tsukasa:

Tsukasa does big, BIG celebrations. This man will never combine the words "small" and "celebration"

Of course, he's more than aware of how sad you get during your birthday, but if there's one thing he knows to do, it's making people smile!

He writes up a show to perform for your birthday, and WxS is definitely on board!

On your birthday, he invites you to Phoenix Wonderland, saying that he has a special surprise

When you reach the Wonder Stage, there's nobody else there. It's only you in the audience when the curtains open

The show they put on is one that highlights all of Tsukasa's favorite moments with you. Nene embarrassingly takes on your role, but you can see how happy he is to relive the moments

He gifts you a collection of the various trinkets he's picked up from all of his dates with you!

The rest of WxS cheer as he takes you up to the stage, picking you up and spinning you around before kissing all over your face. "Happy birthday, my lovely co-star!!"

Rui:

Rui loves nothing more than doing big, dramatic things, even if they seem dangerous at first

You've told him about how you feel during your birthday, and since he's felt the same, he wants to change that

With the help of WxS and his drones, he dreams up a spectacular show to put on for you

On your birthday, he invites you to Phoenix Wonderland, asking you to meet up with him at the Wonder Stage

Once you arrive, there's no one else there. You watch with wide eyes as a mass of drones fly out, and WxS begins to perform

They do a concert for you, singing all of the songs that Rui knew you loved to hear him sing!

He gifts you a balloon animal and a drone that he made specifically to help you out in whatever you need help with

He takes your hand in his and kisses the back, grinning up at you before inviting you to dance with him. "Happy birthday, dearest."