#and yes this is all forms of love and loss not just romantic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dark-frosted-heart · 4 months ago

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Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 10 Premium Story

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

nsfw, minors dni

cw: dubcon.

What you call romantic love’s just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.

I have to teach an egoist who said that about being in love.

Roger: Hmm, so eating ice cream together’s a lesson in love?

Kate: It’s not like I wanted ice cream or anything…

(I boasted that I’d teach him about romantic love on a date…but was at a loss)

To hide the fact, I licked the ice cream I bought as part of our date after seeing a queue near the station.

Roger: Hey, Kate. You’ve been in love once or twice, haven’t you? What was that like for you?

(What love is like for me…)

Kate: …I don’t have much experience.

Roger: I’m not asking for advice from a veteran. Just let me hear it.

(Well, for example…)

Kate: To me, romantic love is something that gives me the image of something that glitters in everyday life. I feel joy because I like someone. It makes me want to work harder than usual, and makes me happy.

Roger: Glittering, huh.

Kate: Ah, you don’t believe me? I know you’ll laugh and say there’s no scientific basis for it. The person I like is different from everyone else. They’re especially glittering.

(Wait, that was a bit childish…)

I glanced at Roger sitting beside me, and contrary to my expectations, he smiled softly.

Roger: That sounds nice. The word through your eyes sounds fun. Ah, the ice cream’s melting.

Kate: Waaahhh…

When I rushed to eat my ice cream, I could hear the bitter smile from his voice.

Roger: But the more I ask about it, the more I find love to be uncertain, vague, unidentifiable peculiarity that’s inefficient.

Kate: Inefficient?

Roger: An unexplained emotion manipulates you into feeling happy or sad. But there’s no guarantee that the other person likes you back. Is there anything else in life that’s so inefficient?

(W-what a cold way of thinking…)

Kate: Heh, hehe. That’s such a you thing to say that I can’t help but laugh beyond amazement. …But, it’s a curious thing.

Roger: Hm?

Kate: Ah, well…when I learn more about your rational way of thinking… I wonder why you even bother with me at all.

I can’t think of any benefits to being with me at the moment.

Roger: Jude asked me the same thing. “You’re a super pervert that only cares about your own research and don’t like dealin’ with trouble.”

Kate: He’s as harsh as ever…but he’s right.

Roger: I didn’t plan on keeping you around at first. But I found something in you that I like.

Suddenly, those eyes behind his glasses softened.

Roger: When you first became Fairytale Keeper, you told me about how crushed you felt by your own weakness. “I won’t despair”.

(Now that he mentioned it…)

Kate: Strong…I want to be strong. Because I…don’t want to hate myself.

Besides…life’s too long to live in despair.

Roger: …O_O

Pfft, hahahahaha!

(At the time, Roger laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes)

Kate: …Yes. I remember.

Roger: Even though you felt depressed, it was sweet seeing you keep looking forward and not give in to despair. I also believe that in life is to give despair the finger.

Kate: Give despair the finger?

Roger: Yeah. I went through the trouble of being born. I’m not gonna give into despair so easily.

As he said that, Roger’s smile was so radiant. I stared at it as if under a spell that stopped time.

Roger: And Kate.

He leaned forward and peered into my face.

Roger: I enjoy being with you right now.

Kate: …

Those straightforward words shot me right through the heart.

Kate: T-that’s…good to hear.

(My face is hot…I could only give a reply that wasn’t cute at all)

Roger: …Hey, Kate. My curse is “betrayal”. Like how the hunter in Snow White betrayed the queen. My “tragic fate” is to be doomed to be ruined by my own guilt.

My heart suddenly thumped after learning about Roger’s “curse” and “fate”.

Kate: …Roger.

Roger: However, I’m gonna change my fate. It’s absurd to allow myself to be controlled by it. Kate, I’ve taken a liking to you so I’ll promise you this. I will never betray you without a reason. Never.

Roger’s smile as he said that once again shot through my heart.

(That’s nice. I wonder if…I’ll be strong like him some day)

The instant I thought that, I understood.

(Ah, I see. Maybe I…admire Roger)

Not wanting to joke about it, I nodded.

Kate: Thank you, Roger… Ah…my stomach.

Roger: Pfft, hahaha! Your stomach’s feeling healthy today.

We talked and walked a lot.

To end the day—

Kate and Roger: Let’s go eat, Roger/Kate.

We looked at each other and laughed after saying it at the same time.

Kate: I am definitely not going to drink that much tonight.

Roger: Kate, do you know the saying “what happens twice will happen thrice”?

Kate: I’ll be fine, I’ll take care of myself. I’m an adult after all.

The night grew old—

Roger: Some adult you are. You’re dizzy after 2 or 3 drinks.

Kate: …Hmmm? Where am I?

Roger: My room. We’re back…Hey, watch out.

Kate: Ow…

I tripped over a desk leg or something and my vision spun with the dull pain.

The next thing I knew, I was looking down at Roger who sank into his bed…

Not knowing what was going on, I just stared at him blankly.

(Wow…This angle’s pretty nice)

(But Roger always looks good…)

Pushing him down made my heart speed up somehow.

Kate: …Hey, Roger. I get angry whenever you push me around.

I fixed his glasses and smiled, heart throbbing.

Roger: Pfft, haha…what, you’re slandering me while drunk?

Kate: …The way you push me around’s annoying, but more than that, it’s exciting.

I rested against his thick chest; he smelled like sweat and sunny days.

Roger: …

Kate: What kind of person…will I be tomorrow. I’m looking forward…to seeing how you smile…when I get stronger.

(I couldn’t be honest like this earlier)

Kate: …I also like…being with you.

Roger: …O_O

Kate: Roger, just watch…I’ll get stronger…

In an instant, strong arms surrounded me.

It was as if I was imprisoned in a sweet cage.

Roger: I wasn’t planning on messing with you because of all the noise out there, but I’ve changed my mind. Do you…want to do something that’ll feel good, Kate?

(What did Roger say…? My head feels fluffy…)

Kate: …Mm? Mmmm…?

Before I could properly reply, a hand held my tilted head.

Roger: I gave you a chance to escape.

Kate: Mm, mmmm…?

Roger’s lips devoured mine, cutting off my breath.

Kate: Ha…Mn, mn…nnn

I could hardly breathe and my mind immediately went numb.

Kate: Enough…mn…

Roger: Don’t set your own limits. You’re gonna be a strong woman, right? Heh.

He removed his glasses and brought his face closer to mine.

His lips were much closer than before, and he dove in deeper—

Kate: Mn…Nnn…

Straddling Roger, our tongues intertwined until my head felt like mush. When we finally parted, a hand slipped under the gap in my blouse.

Roger: I found something delicious.

With a mischievous voice, Roger’s lips enveloped a nipple through my blouse.

Kate: Ahhh

Teasing my breasts with his tongue, Roger sat himself up with me in his arms.

Now sitting in his lap, Roger pulled my blouse down from my shoulders. I jolted as his tongue flicked at my exposed nipples.

The stimulation alone felt so good that it drove me crazy, but when thick fingers slid between my legs, the pleasure building up felt like bursting—

Kate: …Roger…I…

Roger: I can’t go all the way…Can’t put it in ‘til I train you.

Kate: Ah…

His hips pressed firmly against mine and I couldn’t help but cry out as I felt him even through hs pants.

Kate: …I’ve never…heard of anything like this.

Roger: Hmm, if we’re not not going to be lovers, then what’s there to worry about? Just focus on this for now. I’ll make you cum soon.

Kate: Aaahhh

More fingers pumped inside me and my whole body trembled.

(Roger’s fingers are driving me crazy…)

(Want to feel them…deeper. I want to feel good…)

The next morning, I woke up not remembering anything at all—

Unfortunately, that wasn’t actually the case.

(What—have I done)

I remembered every single detail and was filled with self-loathing.

Kate: I only had 2 or 3 drinks.

Roger: *yawn*...When you’re tired, your metabolism slows down, which affects your liver’s ability to process alcohol. Meaning, even if you drank less than usual—

Kate: Thank you for the medical explanation! But even so, why…with you…

Roger: Ah, you mean when I stripped your clothes and pleasured you?

Kate: Please don’t say it so directly. Besides, you and I aren’t like that…so why!

Roger: I got turned on watching you say all those cute things. You should praise me for being a good boy and taking care of myself in the end.

Kate: Taking care?! Ah, um… Y-y-you’re the worst!

Roger: Who’s the worst here? This is the first time I’ve stopped half-way. Is it so wrong to love your own dog?*

(At this stage, It’s disgusting how you’re treating me like a dog again)

Kate: You don’t do perverted things with your dog!

Roger: I like dogs the best over any other animal. That’s how it is.

Kate: Huh…?

(If talking about favorites, then I’d say humans are among them…but that doesn’t matter!)

Kate: I-I won’t be tricked like that. I was dumb to think I wanted to be like you because I respected you.

Roger: Oh, that’s the first time I’m hearing about that. Respect, huh?

I had a feeling that anything I said right now would make this horrible man happy.

Kate: Next time you do something perverted, I’m breaking our friendship!

Roger: Pfft, haha! Are you a kid or something? Dummy.

Kate: Calling someone dumb makes you dumb.

I fixed my blouse and rushed out of his room with rumpled clothes.

My body still felt hot and I sighed when I was alone.

(Being with Roger always drives me mad)

Though I was drunk, everything I saw was the truth…that made it even worse.

—At the time, I was so absorbed in what was in front of me that I didn’t realize how deep the “despair” was inside Roger.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil roger route

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woojirang · 6 months ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 Emotional Baggage - Prologue (P.SH)

Summary: Yeosang had been the love of your life. His sudden passing left you shattered, unable to fathom a future without him. After you reunited with the friend group after 7 months, Seonghwa's feelings for you reignite as he supports you through your loss. Pairing: Park Seonghwa x gn! Reader, (lost lover) Yeosang x gn! Reader Genre: angst, fluff ig, sfw, mini series

Warnings: lil fluff here and there but more of reminiscing on what used to be. WC: 2.4K a/n: This is the first story I've written in a while since middle school. If you were around for Locket Park Woojin, yes, that's me! While writing this, I wasn't a big fan of the initial organization, which is why I'm making it a mini-series so I can rework it a little. However, this prologue will remain the foundation of the story.

Series Playlist: [Playlist]

You were mad, furious at the world. Yeosang, with his luscious brown hair that you would endlessly run your fingers through, his mesmerizing brown eyes that you could lose yourself in for hours, his contagious smile that could light up your darkest days, his ethereal face that no museum could ever capture, who spoke with that endearing, romantic lisp—he abandoned you. It was impossible to tell whether he was suffering since he masked everything with that beautiful smile, but all you knew was that he was gone, long gone. Your angel, your reason for pushing forward, was gone.

You vividly remember the day his parents called to break the news. Your heart sank to your stomach. Though his mother’s voice was frail, barely above a whisper, you shook and sobbed uncontrollably. Your forever, your sanctuary, your escape... everything was shattered in an instant. Amidst your heart-wrenching sobs, you heard the woman who could have been your future mother-in-law faintly mutter an "I’m sorry," before she hung up the phone.

The body that once used to caress you and whisper sweet assurances that everything would be okay before you fell asleep in his arms was now lying alone, asleep forever. Nothing could tear at your heartstrings more than this moment. Your body quivered at the sight of his lifeless form, refusing to accept this devastating reality—the reality where you could no longer be with him. The vibrant soul who once filled your days with joy and laughter, your Yeosang, now belonged to the angels.

As you stood there, staring at his cold figure with his pale hands over his chest, and the light blue suit that he wore when he proposed to you on the beach at sunset, your heart shattered into a million pieces. The amount of tears that streamed from your eyes was endless, and you were utterly inconsolable. On that grim, foggy day, the world felt dull and empty, the weight of losing your lover pressing down on you like a heavy shroud. Every breath was a painful reminder of his absence, and that's when the harsh reality finally set in—your forever was truly gone.

The mournful cries of those gathered around you felt distant. You could hear the priest's solemn words, but it all just became background noise, overwhelmed by the sound of your own heartache. The scent of lilies, his favorite flowers, filled the air, clashing with my tearing heart and this utterly depressing foggy day. Each tear that fell felt like a piece of your soul was being ripped away, leaving you emptier with every passing second.

You reached out, your hand trembling, to touch his cold, still face, hoping for some impossible warmth, some sign that this was all just a nightmare. But there was nothing. His body stagnant. Your vibrant, loving Yeosang, who once breathed life into your days, was now a silent, eternal memory. As the final words were spoken and the coffin was lowered, the last remnants of your strength crumbled. You collapsed to your knees, overwhelmed by the unbearable sorrow, knowing that a part of you had been buried with him, leaving a void that could never be filled.

It’s been seven months since Yeosang left this world, and to cope with his absence, you found yourself texting his number endlessly, holding onto the hope that somehow, somewhere, he could hear you.

January 26, 4:58 PM

“How could you leave me here to suffer on my own.”

“I miss you every day.”

“I wish I could hold you again.”

“I hate being without you.”

February 21, 7:32 PM

“My Yeosang… I hope you’re doing well up there.”

“I wish I could be with you.”

“Are you watching over me?”

March 3, 1:42 AM

“Yeo.. I wish I could end it all and be with you.”

“A life without you is not a life worth living.”

April 2, 2:45 AM

“My love, can you hear me?”

“I saw your mom today, she’s doing better!”

“Better than me…”

“I miss you, love…”

“I love you.”

May 4, 6:57 PM

“Love! I got a promotion at work today.”

“I wish you could celebrate with me.”

“I bought a cake for the both of us!”

“I’m putting out a bowl for you, so when your soul comes down to watch over me, we can eat together!”

“I miss you so much.”

June 23, 1:24 AM

“You know how they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder?”

“I definitely understand that now…”

“I miss you, Yeo :(“

July 12, 5:12 PM

“It’s been seven months since you’ve been gone.”

“I haven’t forgotten about you, I don’t think I’ll ever forget about you.”

“Do you hear my desperate cries?”

“I love you more than life, Yeosang.”

“Please send me a sign if you’re listening.”

Every message was a plea, a desperate cry into the void, hoping, dreaming for a response that would never come. You poured your heart into endless texts, trying to bridge the chasm that death had created between you and Yeosang. You recounted your memories, celebrated your achievements, and shared your sorrows, hoping that somehow, in some way, he could feel your love.

In the early hours of the morning, when the world was silent, you felt closest to him. The quiet solitude of the night mirrored the emptiness you felt inside. You would lie in bed, phone clutched to your chest, whispering into the darkness, “I love you, Yeosang.” The longing was a constant ache, a relentless reminder of the love you once shared and the future you had lost.

As time passed, the messages became a ritual, a way to keep his memory alive and to feel connected to him. On days of celebration and on days of despair, you reached out to him, sharing your life as if he were still here.

The pain of his absence never lessened, but you found solace through your words. In your heart, You believed that somehow, somewhere, he was listening, watching over you, and that thought kept you going. Your love for him transcended the boundaries of life and death, and with every message, You sent a piece of your heart into the universe, hoping it would reach him.

July 14, You went out to the beach with your friends. Everyone carpooled in a minivan, singing our favorite songs at the top of our lungs and playing I-SPY with whatever caught our eye. It was all fun and games until you realized how much more fun things would’ve been if Yeosang were still here. His quiet yet chaotic presence had a way of charming everyone in our friend group. You smiled at the thought of Yeosang jamming out with all of us like we did in the past.

Hongjoong, our designated driver, had compiled playlists of everyone’s favorite songs. Yeosang would always beg for the aux cord, but Wooyoung banned him from playing music on our trips. “We’ve already heard ‘Faded’ a bajillion times!” Wooyoung would exclaim, annoyed at Yeosang’s relentless desire to listen to Faded at least once on every trip. You’ve gotta admire consistency at this point. Yeosang would then look at you and pout with eyes full of playful mischief, before leaning his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your hips. He would draw himself into sleep as you stared out the window, your heart full and content.

Now, as you sat in the same minivan, you could almost feel the weight of his head on your shoulder, the warmth of his embrace, and the soft rhythm of his breathing. The nostalgia was almost too much to bear. You could hear his voice in your mind, humming along to the music, his laughter mixing with the sea breeze. Every laugh from our friends, every familiar song, brought back a flood of memories that made your heart ache with longing.

All you can do now is smile, thinking about him and fantasizing about the what-ifs. What if he were here to share this beautiful day with us, to laugh and sing and make more memories? The beach, the songs, the laughter—they all felt incomplete without him.

Hongjoong noticed you spacing out, lost in the view outside the window, and he exchanged a knowing look with Seonghwa in the passenger seat. Without needing words, Hongjoong nodded and started playing “Faded” as a tribute to Yeosang, hoping to ease your thoughts. You caught his glance in the rearview mirror and gave him a subtle, grateful smile. Hongjoong returned a small, supportive smile, understanding the depth of your silent gratitude.

Wooyoung, who had once grown tired of hearing this song repeatedly, sang out with all his heart, his voice resonating with emotion. You quietly murmured the lyrics, your eyes fixed on the blue sky and the cars passing by. The song brought back memories of Yeosang, memories that were bittersweet and filled with longing.

The grieving process had been incredibly difficult for Wooyoung as well. Yeosang and Wooyoung had shared so much together, their bond forged through countless experiences and dreams. Yeosang had always known what he wanted in life, and while Wooyoung had his own dreams, he couldn’t imagine accomplishing them without Yeosang by his side. At the beginning of your relationship with Yeosang, Wooyoung had been jealous of the time Yeosang spent with you, feeling sidelined by the new love in Yeosang’s life. But over time, he had come to accept and even cherish the bond you all shared.

Now, you could only imagine the depth of Wooyoung’s pain. His leader, his best friend, the person who had been his constant companion, was gone. As the song played on, you glanced at Wooyoung, seeing the glimmer of tears in his eyes. He caught your gaze and gave a small, sad smile, his voice faltering for a moment before he continued singing. You reached out and gently squeezed his hand, offering silent comfort.

“Remember how he always insisted on this song?” Wooyoung said, his voice breaking slightly. “Every trip, without fail.”

You nodded, your eyes misting over. “Remember how you banned him from the aux?”

Hongjoong glanced at both of you in the rearview mirror. “He’d be glad we’re still listening to it together,” he said softly.

Seonghw searched for any reaction from you through the rearview mirror. The thing with Seonghwa was that he had always loved you, even while you were with Yeosang. From the moment he had met you, he marveled at all your little charms: your smile when the cherry blossoms bloomed in the spring, the way you softened every time you saw a dog on the sidewalk, the way your eyes fluttered as you woke up from naps in class. He had it all planned out from the start—the way he would’ve confessed to you after walking home one day under a cherry blossom tree, the most romantic way he knew. But in the end, it was Yeosang who beat him to it.

He, Yeosang, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were a unit before you joined them, and you were basically Yeosang’s plus one, though they all enjoyed your presence nonetheless. One night while everyone went out to drink, Yeosang suddenly admitted his feelings for you to the guys and told them he’d confess to you the next day. Seonghwa started to feel guilty for his own feelings and tried his best to give them up so his best friend could be with you instead. He had suppressed his feelings, knowing that if he expressed them, it could ruin what you both and the friend group had. So now that you were with Yeosang, he began to dread every hangout with the gang if it meant you were coming along because it would remind him on an opportunity he missed out on.

Feeling reassured, you had no tears left to cry. You attempted to enjoy the day without constantly thinking about Yeosang as you were already rough on yourself for the sheer fact that he wasn’t there and he won’t be there for you anytime anymore. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the beach as the waves gently lapped at the shore. The salty breeze rustled through the palm trees, and the sound of laughter filled the air.

Hongjoong set up the beach umbrella and spread out the blankets while Seonghwa rummaged through the cooler, pulling out sandwiches and drinks. Wooyoung was already halfway to the water calling out for us to join him.

“Come on, losers! The water’s perfect!” Wooyoung shouted, his voice carrying over the crashing waves.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, alright, we’re coming!”

We kicked off our sandals and ran towards the water, the hot sand quickly giving way to the cool, refreshing surf. Wooyoung was splashing around, trying to dunk Seonghwa, who threw up his hands and splashed him in defense. Hongjoong waded in next to me, a grin spreading across his face as he watched us.

“Feels good to see everyone having fun,” Hongjoong said, his brown eyes and orange hair reflecting the bright sunlight.

“Yeah…” You agreed, feeling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. “It’s been a while since we’ve all laughed like this.”

Wooyoung managed to catch Seonghwa off guard, dunking him under the water before raising his arms in victory. “Yes! I am the king of the sea!”

Seonghwa surfaced, sputtering and laughing. “Only because I let you win, Wooyoung.”

“Oh, sure you did,” Wooyoung retorted, splashing Seonghwa again.

We spent hours playing in the water, building sandcastles, and soaking up the sun. At one point, we took a break to eat, sitting in a circle on the blanket. Hongjoong passed around sandwiches and drinks, and we toasted to Yeosang, who we knew would have loved to be there with us.

“To Yeosang,” Hongjoong said, holding up his drink. “Our friend and our guiding star.”

“To Yeosang,” we all echoed, clinking our cups together.

A bit after we all ate together, You decided to pull out your phone, suddenly remembering that you could text Yeosang. You typed out a message, eager to share the moment with him.

“Yeosang! Everyone here is having a great time! We miss you!”

You sent the text with a smile, until the message delivered green. His number was no longer active, your heart sank into the abyss. The reality of his absence hits you like a tidal wave, washing away the momentary joy and leaving you drowning in sorrow. His number was gone, just like he was.

You curled into a ball of pity, staring into the horizon as a hollow emptiness enveloped you. The vibrant day around you blurred, colors dimming and sounds fading as the weight of loss pressed down on your chest. He was really gone now, in every conceivable way.

taglist: @vampzity @sanshairfollicles @rvereri @losrpark @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3

#park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #ateez miniseries #ateez #ateez fanfic #kpop

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writerbuddha · 1 year ago

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Your blog is interesting and informative. Learning the behind the scenes stuff is interesting but I have found that I cannot accept some of the things Lucas says. Especially the discourse around attachment. Having watched the movies and read their novelizations I just do not find Lucas’s idea behind what he was trying to convey to be in his story.

This really hit home for me when rewatching The Clone Wars. In the episode Voyage of Temptation (season 2 episode 13) Obi-Wan and Anakin have this discussion:

Obi-Wan My duty as a Jedi demanded I be elsewhere.

Anakin Demanded? But it’s obvious you had feelings for her. Surely that would affect your decision.

Obi-Wan Oh, it did. I live by the Jedi Code.

Anakin Of course. As Master Yoda says, “A Jedi must not form attachments.”

Obi-Wan Yes. But he usually leaves out the undercurrent of remorse.

I cannot square the idea that a Jedi would feel an undercurrent of remorse about not having a supposedly negative thing in their life. The only thing I can conclude is that it does not mean a negative and just means having a partner. Having love.

I'm really glad you like my blog, Anon! :)

What I take from your message is that you're a bit confused about attachment and non-attachment and how not forming attachments is guiding the life of a Jedi Knight.

You seem to equate "attachment" with "love" and "having a partner." However, this isn't quite right: attachment is the feeling that you like or love something or someone, paired with the feeling that you would be unhappy without them. Attachment is not the same as liking or loving, because attachment is characterized by the feeling that you have to have the things or people you like or love in your life to keep yourself happy. Once you feel this, you start to want things to not to change, to stay as they are, you want to permanently have things. But everything changes, things come and things go, you can't stop that. Attachment is an unrealistic and unreasonable desire that will lead to the fear of loss, and out of that comes anger, and from that comes hate. And being filled by fear, anger and hate is suffering.

The things we're attached to are most likely very positive, very good and very enjoyable, since we love and like them. Having a romantic partner and a romantic, loving relationship with that partner is not a problem at all, because that's not an attachment. Rather, attachment is the harmful and destructive way of relating to having a romantic partner and a romantic, loving relationship with that partner.

Let's go through this dialogue in Voyage of Temptation!

ANAKIN: You didn't stay to help her? OBI-WAN: That would have been problematic. My duty as a Jedi demanded I be elsewhere. ANAKIN: Demanded? But it's obvious you had feelings for her. Surely that would affect your decision. OBI-WAN: Oh, it did. I live by the Jedi code. ANAKIN: Of course. As master Yoda says, "a Jedi must not form attachments." OBI-WAN: Yes. But he usually leaves out the undercurrent of remorse.

It would be important to be able to distinguish between not forming attachments and the life of the Jedi Knight made possible by not forming attachments, since the two are related, but very different.

ANAKIN: You didn't stay to help her? OBI-WAN: That would have been problematic. My duty as a Jedi demanded I be elsewhere.

Jedi Knights aren't where they would like to be, but where they are needed, and for a good Jedi Knight, who lives on compassion, the two are the same. They dedicate themselves to serve the entire known universe, to guard peace and justice, to settle disputes and make sure that everyone is protected. Obi-Wan couldn't stay with Satine, because as he tells Anakin, his Jedi duty demanded him to be elsewhere. He isn't saying, his duty as a Jedi was to "be nowhere near her," because a Jedi is not allowed to have partners and love.

The reason why Jedi Knights aren't entering marriages and romantic relationships is not that these would be attachments. They won't do it because it's simply impractical. The duty of the parent and spouse, who has to protect and support their family and the duty of the Jedi, who has to guard peace and justice in the entire universe cannot be fulfilled at the same time.

ANAKIN: Demanded? But it's obvious you had feelings for her. Surely that would affect your decision. OBI-WAN: Oh, it did. I live by the Jedi code. ANAKIN: Of course. As master Yoda says, "a Jedi must not form attachments."

Attachment is a very conditional way of relating to others. It says, "You make me very happy, I enjoy you so much, so I love you and I cherish you." It says, "You make me very unhappy, I despise you so much, I I hate you and I want to harm you." And it says, "You do not make me feel happy nor unhappy, I have no concern for you." And these are walking hand in hand: when Padmé made Anakin feel very happy, he wanted her to be safe, he was willing to pledge loyalty to Darth Sidious to keep her alive and in his life, but on Mustafar, when she made him feel unhappy, he wanted her to be miserable and he choked her. A Jedi Knight shall not form attachments, rather, they must have unconditional love, which is compassion. True love says, "I want you to be happy and free from suffering."

It's an aspiration coming from the simple realization that we're the same human beings in wanting to be happy and free from suffering. This can extend to all living things: the people who make us feel happy, the people who make us feel unhappy and the rest. Obi-Wan had to adhere to the Jedi code, "a Jedi must not form attachments." Compassion is central to a Jedi Knight's life. So, Obi-Wan had to make a decision that is based on compassion, the concern for the well-being of everyone, not just the concern for the woman he has romantic feelings for, who he likes and cherishes. Satine had a hard task ahead of her, but the war was over and she was safe. Others, however, were in need of the protection and guidance of the Jedi.

OBI-WAN: Yes. But he usually leaves out the undercurrent of remorse.

What Obi-Wan feels an undercurrent of remorse about not having is a very positive thing: it's the relationship that he had with Satine, what he sacrificed for the life of a Jedi Knight. It was a hard choice, he loved Satine greatly. He doesn't feel bad about serving others as a Jedi Knight, but he does feel bad about leaving Satine.

But Satine didn't ask him to leave the Order, and by the end of the arc, they were both able to find peace, knowing that they made the right decision. I've already posted this quote from the great Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk and teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, but it's still explains this perfectly: "As a monastic you lead a life of monastic celibacy and community, and if the one you love realizes that, she will not suffer and you will not suffer, because love is much more than having a sexual relationship. Because of great love you can sacrifice that aspect of love, and your love becomes much greater. That nourishes you, that nourishes the other person, and finally your love will have no limit. That is the Buddha’s love."

Obviously, the disappearance of a loved one from our lives will never be easy, will bring sadness, and their absence will always be felt. But the severe pain, sorrow, regret over this, the anguish that we are not with them, the intense yearning to be with them, to get them back is stemming from our desire to hold on to what we find pleasant, good and joyous, from the inability to accept that we can never truly have, own, possess anything. If we cease the unrealistic and unreasonable yearning, we’re able to allow change, to allow death to enter into our lives and seeing it as a natural part of it. And we can be at peace.

#star wars #george lucas #jedi order #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x satine #satine kryze #clone wars #voyage of temptation #attachment #love vs attachment #anon ask #obitine

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mahi-wayy · 3 months ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝑨𝒁𝑨𝑫 𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑬

• General • Romantic [both sfw and nsfw]

A/n : I love him T-T

I - GENERAL

the most babygirl to every babygirl- I don't make the rules.

his puppy dog eyes are like the deadliest.

he is very comfortable in his feminine energy and actually leans into it a lot seeing that he was brought up among very strong woman.

likes wearing soft colors, the scent is uses is also not very strong one but more of a sweet smell that clings to him and lingers even when he leaves.

the darling of the jail. the whole department is kind of scared of doing anything when he not around because once a officer kind of messed up his desk, misplaced one of his belongings and that man didn't know peace because the prisoners won't let him live in peace until azad got over his loss.

there wasn't a time when he was used to like night duty and constantly fell asleep on duty and constables have told how no one makes a sound around his office or in general if they know the jailer has fallen asleep.

he is a legend of that jail but he is unaware that his story is narrated to every woman that ends up behind the bars.

once refused the option of transfer with a possible promotion because he just didn't want to leave his girls.

coming to which his team is handpicked of course, he trained everyone of them personally in combat and weapons but also helped them to sharpen some skills they already had.

has nightmares of his mother not waking up or dying in different ways.

gets scolded from kaveri over his messed up schedule all the time. no time of sleeping, no time of waking up, lunch and dinner all jumbled, you get the drift.

his trauma gives him too extreme sides. sometimes he can't grasp what is going on in the room while the other times not even s drop of sweat being wiped goes unnoticed by him in a crowded room.

he almost picked up smoking in his college days but kaveri helped him shake it off before he settled in him.

extremely sensitive to his surroundings and the energy the place and people around him have.

good with his basic emotional regulation, cries when he feels like he needs to. yes he cries during movies.

good emotional intelligence.

was a boxing champion in college and a A grader throughout his academic life.

but he was bullied in school, especially for his "girl like behavior" you know how stupid those boys can get.

used to ask kaveri about his mother all the time, which she thankfully had some answers she could give but it surprised her how he never asked about his father apart from what he did, just starring at the picture aishwarya drew him whenever he missed his dad.

very low maintenance which is to be honest a trauma response. he doesn't want to be a weight on anyone's shoulders in any form.

likes sweets over spices.

he can cook decent enough to survive but I don't recommend leaving him near a oven without supervision for too long.

not much of a party guy but can be convinced once in a while.

he is very shy, will visibly get flustered if you compliment him more than once.

II - ROMANTIC

SFW

makes the first move, very shyly.

buys flowers, chocolates and other gifts all the time.

reads books to his partner.

tries to learn their favorite thing to do so they can do it together.

talk about them to his team and other women in the jail.

surprise dates.

late night dates.

dances in the rain with them.

sleeps with his head on their chest and curled around them like a clingy child.

NSFW

he is a switch who doesn't really care about it tbh.

he is happy as long as both him and his partner are feeling good.

had a praise kink.

shy but loud moaner.

whimpers.

sensitive chest, neck and sides.

------

tags : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @jkdaddy01 @rambheem-is-real @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @ulaganayagi @ahamasmiyodhah @ranisingnewyetagian @myvarya @toomanyfanficsbruh @harinishivaa @chaliyaaa @tumharisakhi

#in my srk era ;)#azad rathore #jawan #shah rukh khan #headcanons

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detectivekirigirislays · 2 months ago

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i genuinely can't keep up w these iz///oc's arguments istg

"ochako was acknowledged by izuku, while izuku never acknowledges katsuki's actions towards him!" let's break that down, shall we?

ochako & deku:

ochako— at the time deku calls her his hero— is actively mourning the loss of her villain. she is mourning himiko toga, drenched in guilt and remorse, practically clutching her stomach out of the pain from crying so much, from letting out all her repressed feelings post-war

when izuku comforts ochako, he uses iida's advice in hand-holding, he declares that ochako is his hero because yes, ochako has undeniably done so much for izuku already that it had to be acknowleged somehow sooner or later. and can we deny it? ochako is considerably one of izuku's heroes, seeing as to how she has always been there for him since his time in UA.

ochako is already feeling horrible, almost incompetent as she couldn't save himiko, so of course izuku is going to reassure her that she's still a hero to someone, and that someone is him. izuku uses these words as a means of COMFORT.

izuku says these words to comfort her because she is mourning a great loss. what ochako needs is a support system, not a declaration of love, not any love confession or romantic chemistry, just someone to be there to comfort her. and izuku fulfills that role.

claiming someone as your hero doesn't have to be deemed as romantic all the time. it can be in the form of platonically, or idolization, it doesn't have to undermine the platonic aspect of seeing someone as your hero.

kacchan and deku:

izuku n katsuki are the type of duo wherein 'actions speak louder than words' and when there are words needed, those words are short, confusing, unsure, because they have a lot of experience in the field of miscommunication.

however, they're on a level of closeness that izuku doesn't have with any of the other class A's members, which tomura is aware of and exploits to his advantage. moving away from that, izuku has been with katsuki ever since they were kids and even as adults, they're still connected one way or another, so of course the bond they have is different than in contrast to anyone else in class A. they don't need to say much to each other mostly bcuz of how in sync they are.

izuku has always acknowledged katsuki, so the argument that he hasn't is pretty stupid. he says it himself, katsuki is his symbol of victory, katsuki is this amazing person in his life closer to him than all might is, he chased after katsuki for years out of admiration; all his life, he pretty much has been acknowledging katsuki. sure, he hasn't said anything about katsuki's recent developments and whatnot, so i'll explain it in the next point->

i took reference from a prev tumblr post, but izuku pretty much doesn't talk about his actual feelings. same as katsuki, as both of them are known to hide how they truly feel and use a bunch of lip-servicey words. izuku wouldn't initiate a deep conversation about katsuki's sacrifices, revivals and stuff because he'd most likely wait for katsuki to speak about it firstly between them both. at the same time, katsuki doesn't seem to be the type of person to willingly talk about that, so i doubt they'd be having such a conversation out of the blue unless the situation or the setting really needs them to do so.

we see it in the two's CHARACTER TRAITS, where izuku isn't the type to openly state how he feels unless the situation really needs him to do so or when it's already the very end/almost the very end. izuku most of the time would keep his innermost thoughts to himself. katsuki, on the other hand, while very vocal about shallower opinions and his regular outbursts, he rarely shows his deeper vulnerability or his truer thoughts within him (probably to conceal away any of his weaknesses). these two are the miscommunication-we-can't-tell-each-other-shit-kinda-outta-fear-but-also-out-of-love kings and we have to acknowledge it....

additional info: deku vs kacchan 2. midoriya "all might was my hero, but you were the one in my life! this amazing person" izuku.

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #mha midoriya #dkbk #deku #kacchan #midoriya izuku #skibidi #analysis #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako

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nocandnc · 5 months ago

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Ello! Ab that otp questions, is it alright if both Kafmina and OkoHoshi? 23 and 26 GUAHAH I crave a lil smthn sweet😭

My pleasure!!!

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

26) Who kissed first?

Nuthin lil about this, so read below the cut~

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

KafMina

Kafka has been down on himself for not meeting Mina's expectations for so long. Of course he wouldn't feel worthy of her romantically. He thinks he's constantly screwing up, and he does screw up sometimes, but Mina assures him each and every time that she won't be throwing him aside that easily - not when they're finally together.

Mina has always been a scaredy-cat. Only with Kafka is she truly brave. He's here now just like they always promised, like a dream. She's terrified of what cold reality she might wake up to one day when Kafka isn't Kafka but Kaiju No. 8, and she's the heroic Captain of the 3rd Division with a duty to slay him. But for now she'll keep the dream going, one romantic blunder at a time.

OkoHoshi

Okonogi cannot comprehend why the Vice Captain is interested in her. He could have any man or woman he wanted, so why choose the frumpy little nerd with severe myopia? But after a lot of reassurance from Hoshina and probably No. 10 in its own way, she comes to accept that yes, he really really likes her. Hoshina on the other hand is secretly insecure the whole time, because childhood trauma runs deep. What if she realizes that everyone who said he was a useless defect was actually right?? Okonogi has to do some reassuring of her own.

In terms of loss, you'd think the idea would hit Okonogi harder - she can't count the number of times she's cried out to him over the radio, tears spilling from her eyes far too easily. But the thing is, she knows this is how it goes. She knows there's a chance these soldiers, amazing as they are, might lose their lives in battle. Hoshina knows too, that he or his comrades could die at any time. But not Okonogi. Okonogi was far from danger, always safe. She had to be. There would never be a time when he couldn't hear her voice in his ear. He'd sooner die than let that happen.

26) Who kissed first?

KafMina

Mina, definitely. Several anime staff (Kafka and Mina's VAs included) have described Kafka as pure, and I agree - I don't think the idea of kissing Mina would ever occur to him unprompted. Not that he wouldn't want to, he just can't fathom anything beyond 'being by her side', especially when he wasn't even sure he'd make it this far.

I love those dramatic 'kissing my beloved to bring them to their senses' tropes, so in peak fanfiction land Mina first kisses Kafka to wake him from No. 8's berserk mode, helping him calm down and return to human form... but that's pure fantasy!!!

In a more natural setting I think Mina would simply kiss him goodnight after their first date (and make no mistake, she has to plainly tell him they're on a date) - it must seem so sudden to him, but she's been waiting so so so long, how can she not? Kafka is thrilled once the shock wears off, grinning into the kiss while they linger near doors of her high-rise.

Or if we still want more oomph, maybe she pulls him in for a surprisingly deep kiss just before battle when the other officers aren't looking. "For luck" she says, marching off with extra vigor while he's left in shambles.

OkoHoshi

I have spent an ungodly amount of time fantasizing about different 'first kiss' scenarios for these two, but to keep it short... probably Hoshina?

Maybe Okonogi gets caught up in a dangerous kaiju attack while he's on duty. Hoshina rushes in to save her, and for once he's not enjoying the fight at all because all he can think of is making sure she's okay. He stumbles over to check on her once it's all over, heart still racing from another close brush with death. Konomi is halfway through giving a status report when he suddenly cuts her off, mouth pressing to hers a bit desperately. To hell with potential workplace complications - life was too short to hold back anymore.

Maybe it's more of a quiet affair where the two of them are sitting cozily at a cafe together. Neither of them said it was a date, but there's no one they'd rather be with. Okonogi offers a fork-full of her dessert to the Vice Captain when he asks for a taste, only for him to lean over and kiss her instead. Konomi's fork drops to the floor.

Maybe Okonogi does try to kiss him first, because he's about to leave again and how can she possibly convince him to please, please, please be careful!? She yanks his face to hers in a panic - only he's already wearing his gas mask, so her mouth smashes against the industrial-grade PPE and now she's got tears in her eyes for a wholly different reason. Soshiro chuckles a bit behind the offending mask as she's still reeling. "...Let's give that another try once I get back, m'dear."

#KafMina #OkoHoshi #okonogi x hoshina #kafka x mina #kaiju no. 8 #hibino kafka #ashiro mina #hoshina soshiro #okonogi konomi #OTP ask game #thanks for asking!

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grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks · 3 months ago

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I am once again posting a oneshot instead of updating my WIPs. Really sorry about that, but I promise I will get to them eventually. In the meantime, enjoy some Somewhere Else/Upton House fluff!

Content Warnings for this work:

memory loss

“I love you.”

It was a rainy Sunday morning, threatening to turn into a rainy Sunday afternoon as they lazed in bed in a cottage very much, though not exactly, like Daisy’s, in a Scotland very much, though not exactly, like their own. Jon lay with his head on Martin’s chest while Martin played absentmindedly with the long, sleep-tangled curls of Jon’s hair. In response to Jon’s admission, he gave a warm, contented hum.

“I know it’s bad form to say that before we’ve had our first date, but–” Jon said with a soft chuckle. The absurdity of their situation always struck him at odd times.

“Jon, we live together,” Martin laughed, before Jon’s words fully hit him. “Wait, what do you mean? Yes, we did. Remember? At– Oh, right.”

“Hmm?” Jon rolled over so that he could see Martin, and so that Martin could see his puzzled frown.

“At Upton House,” he explained in a quiet murmur, voice suddenly soft and mournful. “I always forget you don’t remember.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“Sure.” Martin shifted, pulling Jon slightly closer. When he spoke, he addressed the ceiling, eyes glazing over with memory. “We had a picnic. You made scones.”

Jon laid his head back down as he listened. He could feel as well as hear Matin speaking, like this – the pleasant rumble of breath and vocal chords hummed from Martin’s chest into Jon’s, and he savored the sensation.

“You insisted it wouldn’t be romantic if I helped – which I vehemently disagree with, by the way – so you shooed me out of the kitchen while you baked. Which meant a couple hours wandering aimlessly around Upton House, waiting for Annabelle Cane to pop out and say something cryptic.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was cute,” Martin said. “You always get so focused when you have a plan, and it’s adorable.”

“Hmm.” Jon was fairly sure Martin used the word ‘adorable’ specifically because he knew Jon objected, so he grumbled dutifully at the descriptor. “If you say so.”

“After that, we found a nice spot by the lake and laid down a blanket. It was gorgeous – all water lilies and dragonflies. You should have seen it. Well, I mean, you did see it, but– b-but you know what I–”

“I know what you mean,” Jon said.

“Honestly, I would have written a poem about it if I’d been in the right headspace. But the– y’know, the apocalypse sort of put me off it for a while there.”

Jon traced his finger in fond loops across Martin’s arm. “Do you think you’re in the right headspace now? Now that we’re here?” In their Scotland, Martin had left snatches of poems scribbled on every available scrap of paper in the safehouse, and Jon had noticed, but not mentioned, its absence in their new home.

“I don’t know,” Martin whispered. “I think I just need some more time.”

Jon brought Martin’s hand up to his lips and gave it a quick and hopefully reassuring kiss. “What did we do next?”

“Oh, you know, just ate, really. We had the scones and some sandwiches, and, heh, and a bottle of champagne.” Jon raised his eyebrows, and Martin flushed. “Well, Salesa wasn’t going to miss it! Believe me, he had plenty to spare.”

“So we just ate?” Jon asked. “Well, and drank, I suppose.”

“And talked.”

“What about?”

Martin’s face clouded. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Oh.” It was precisely the sort of thing to awaken that old, disastrous curiosity in Jon, but he had learned, since losing his connection to the eye, to resist temptation, so he said. “Alright. You don’t have to–”

“Sorry, it’s just– we talked a lot about… y’know, the state of things, and it’s– I know it’s stupid, I mean, we’re fine now, but I– I don’t like to think about how I felt back then. Just so completely helpless. The whole world was broken, and we didn’t even know if there was any fixing it, let alone if we could manage it, and you–” His voice broke. He looked at Jon with a terrible sort of sincerity painted across his face. “You’re the only thing that kept me going. You know that, right? I would have fallen apart without you.”

Jon lifted Martin’s hand to his lips again. This time he lingered, pressing a long, purposeful kiss to his knuckle.

“I can’t say that I agree, but–”

Martin gave a wet, startled laugh. “What?”

“Mr. ‘I’ve already packed our bags; I found some tea under the sink?’ You would have made it to London in record time and defeated Jonah yourself. I only slowed you down.”

“I would have gone insane on day one.”

“You–”

This time it was Jon’s turn to be kissed. Martin lifted himself up to press a kiss to the corner of Jon’s mouth. “You were my reason, Jon.” He flushed, just a bit more, before he confessed, “Still are.”

Jon swallowed.

They’d been in an odd place, since coming here. They still hadn’t talked about everything, not really – it was all too fragile and too fresh – and Jon knew that eventually they were going to have to have a long discussion about everything that had happened in the Panopticon. It felt like they’d spent the last few weeks in the eye of a terrible storm, waiting for it to wreck everything they’d built, but this grounded Jon. Martin was his reason, his anchor, and, despite everything, he was still those things for Martin. Whatever happened next, that wouldn’t change. They could handle this.

In the long silence that followed that admission, Jon pressed his ear to Martin’s chest so he could hear the reassuring pumping of his heart.

“Anyway,” Martin said after a moment. “What I’m trying to say is, it was hard, at Upton House. You were the one thing I could count on, and without the Eye, you were… fading.”

Jon took Martin’s hand and laced their fingers together, reassuring him that he was here. They were safe.

“Tell me more about the scones,” he murmured. “What did we have them with?”

Martin’s lips twitched. It wasn’t quite a full smile, but it was on the way to one. “Strawberry jam,” he said. “We couldn’t find any clotted cream, so we had to make do with jam and butter, but it was good. You definitely used too much baking powder, which wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me help, but–”

“Bold words.”

“But they were– they were nice. Really nice.” His voice was wistful, and more than a little sad. Jon squeezed his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything?” Jon offered. It was always his instinct.

But Martin sighed, “Not helpful, Jon,” so he tried again.

“I’m sorry I forgot? I’m sorry I ended the world. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”

“Okay, in order: you didn’t choose to forget, you didn’t choose to end the world, and I just told you you were the only thing that made going through all that at all bearable.”

“Well,” Jon muttered, not quite willing to give up on his apologies. “I’m also sorry for putting too much baking powder in the scones.”

Martin smiled, still a bit sadly. “That one I can’t forgive.”

They laughed, and for a moment, all was well.

Sunday was the only day they both had off. Martin Blackwood, king of lying on his CV, had put his skills to good use finding them new identities and new jobs, but their options had still been limited, and their schedules left plenty to be desired. Some weeks they hardly saw each other at all, communicating almost exclusively through sticky-note love letters and post-nightmare soothing.

This week was different, though. Jon’s rotating one day off per week, given to him in compensation for working Saturdays, fell on a Friday this week, and he knew that Martin was in the habit of leaving early at the end of the week. (It was a habit that had irritated him to no end as Martin’s manager, but as Martin’s boyfriend, he was grateful for it.) Which, conveniently, gave them the better part of the afternoon for Jon to enact his plan.

By the time Martin returned from work, he had cleaned the kitchen thoroughly, scrubbing it free of dirty dishes or any incriminating flour stains. The only remaining evidence of Jon’s machinations was the overstuffed grocery bag sitting by the door.

When Martin opened the door, Jon stepped up to greet him.

“Hi, love,” Martin murmured, kissing Jon first on the cheek, and then on the lips – a habit they’d developed from two parts love and one part indecisiveness.

“How was work?”

“Ugh,” Martin groaned. “I’m just glad it’s the weekend.” He set down his messenger bag at the kitchen table and began massaging his shoulder.

“Are you too tired to go out? I was thinking maybe we could take a walk.”

“That sounds nice,” Martin said. “Just give me a minute to change out of these bloody shoes.”

Martin shot him an odd look when he picked up the grocery bag.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Jon lied. “Just some things for the walk.”

Martin’s face betrayed precisely how much he believed that, but he didn’t argue.

It was a beautiful day. They seemed to have arrived in this new world only a few days after their own had ended, and a balmy September had given way to a chill and pleasant October. The air was crisp and cool, scented with heather and rich, fertile earth.

“How was your day off?” Martin asked him.

“Not very eventful,” he reported. “Naomi did try to get me to come into the office – I know this will shock you, but they’re short-staffed again today – but I declined. This has been on the schedule for more than a week now.”

Martin shook his head fondly. “Jonathan Sims taking an actual day off. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Jon brushed him off. “But it’s hard to be a workaholic when the work is this dull.”

“As opposed to the archives, which were so very thrilling.” Jon opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Martin specified, “Before the Horrors started. Obviously things did pick up a bit eventually,” he said, in a bit of an understatement, “But you were working weekends when we were basically still just filing things.”

“Well, yes, but the mystery! There’s no mystery at this job!”

“Look on the bright side,” Martin said. “Maybe your new boss will turn out to be possessed, too.”

“Maybe...” Jon sighed.

They reached a fork in the path. Martin, out of habit, started down the left fork, the one they always took, but Jon tugged his hand toward the right.

“Are you sure? I thought the hills played havoc on your legs.”

“I can manage.”

And he could. He wasn’t going to make a habit of it – the worms had done a number on his calves in a way he’d never quite recovered from, and he didn’t enjoy walking on an incline – but just this once wouldn’t do any harm.

“At least let me take the bag–”

“I’ll be fine.”

And he was. A bit out of breath, by the time they reached the spot, but fine.

The spot in question was a little patch of grass on the lee side of the hill, sheltered from the wind but not yet cast into shadow. The earth spread out below them in a sharp tangle of heather and thistle and wildflower before rising again, and again, a series of rolling hills that seemed to go on forever.

Jon grabbed the blanket he’d stuffed into the bag and spread it out on the soft grass.

“It’s not exactly Upton House, but–”

“It’s beautiful.” Martin stared at him, amusement battling with wonder on his face.

Jon gestured to the blanket, and they both sat down. It was a bit chilly on the hillside, even without the wind, but Jon had prepared for that eventuality. He’d packed a second blanket, this one a bit less ratty, and he pulled it around both their shoulders.

Martin’s expression kept shifting – pleased one moment, uncomfortable the next. Jon knew he had a hard time being on the receiving end of, well, anything – attention, affection, assistance. He could hardly let Jon make him soup when he was ill, so it wasn’t exactly surprising that surprise romantic gestures caught him off-balance. Jon must have learned that firsthand at Upton House, but the memory was gone. Still, he had said that it was nice, that first time around, so Jon plowed on. He reached into the bag again and pulled out a bottle and a pair of plastic cups.

“You actually bought champagne?” Martin’s face was a battleground again, but this time amusement won.

“Well, it is a special occasion,” Jon said, removing the foil and setting to work twisting the metal cage around the cork. “It’s our first date.”

“Second,” Martin corrected.

“Second for you, maybe.”

“I mean, you were there! It’s not like I went on that date on my own!”

“Fine,” Jon said with a faux-irritation that couldn’t have been even the slightest bit convincing. “Second. Still a special occasion, though.”

He popped the cork, and a stream of bubbles fizzed out over the neck of the bottle and down his wrist. He always hated that, both for the waste and for the way it left his hand sticky and wet, but today he couldn’t find it in himself to mind. He poured them both a glass and raised his own in a toast.

“To second chances.”

They both drank to that.

“Now for the main event,” he said, reaching into the bag one last time and pulling out a series of tupperware containers, plus plates, knives, and a jar of strawberry jam.

Martin’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “You didn’t.”

“I had to,” Jon said, grabbing himself a scone. “I take this seriously. And my baking ability has been impugned, if memory serves.”

Martin shook his head. “Petty, petty man,” he muttered with a fond laugh.

“I managed to get some clotted cream this time, so this is already an improvement.”

He sliced his scone in half and spread on a thick smear of jam and a dollop of cream.

It was delicious, in his perfectly impartial opinion. Martin should never have doubted him.

He watched as Martin took a bite.

“What do you think? Too much baking powder again?”

Martin wiped a smear of jam from the corner of his mouth. “The baking powder is good,” he said, and Jon had the feeling that there was a ‘but’ attached to that statement.

“But…?”

Martin bit his lip. “But you may have overmixed them just a bit.”

“Slander!”

“Just a bit!” Martin threw up his hands defensively. “I’m just saying, if you’d let me help…”

Jon sighed.

“I don’t know why you’re always fighting me on this!”

“Martin, you've seen me in the kitchen. It’s–”

“Adorable,” Martin finished for him, and Jon pretended he hadn’t heard.

“Intense,” he said instead. “I don’t know why you think adding another person to the mix will make things less frantic.”

“Because that other person happens to be your boyfriend who, a) loves you very much, and b) is a very good baker!” Martin picked up another scone before muttering, not quite under his breath, “And knows how to measure dry ingredients correctly…”

“Slander,” Jon muttered again. “Unfounded, unprovoked–”

And then, just as petulantly but a great deal more honest:

“I love you, too.”

#tma fanfic #tma fic #jonmartin fic #jmart fic #jonmartin fanfic #do not archive #jonmartin #upton house fic #sort of #post canon #jonmartin fluff #jmart fluff

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mmmleckerlecker · 9 months ago

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I just… *clenches fist* love preds who, as a personal rule, don’t ever let their prey out once they’re in their stomach. like physically they COULD, but they just… won’t

and it isn’t even a malicious thing. they have plenty of prey friends that they have never and WILL NEVER touch… unless the prey gives the go-ahead. and a lot of times the prey friend doesn’t even really comprehend what they’re getting into like…

“are you even really a pred? I’ve never actually seen you eat someone one,” friend 1 asks.

“oh, I definitely am,” the pred answers without even looking up from their phone.

“yeah?” friend 2 prompts. “could you do a little demonstration to prove it?”

that gets the pred’s attention. “what? on one of you?”

friend 1 shrugs. “yeah sure. if you can even do it.”

the pred is already sliding their phone into their pocket. “and this is what you really want?”

“yes, definitely,” friend 2 confirms. “I’ve known you for years. I’d really like to see you try.”

“well,” the pred says as they reach for friend 2, “if it’s what you really want…”

and within a minute, friend 2 slides smoothly down the pred’s throat and fills out their stomach. “told ya,” is all the pred has to say.

the pred gives friend 1 a few minutes to run their hands over their belly in awe, feeling friend 2 within curiously poking about their new surroundings. eventually the interest wears off and the pred sits back down, returning to their phone.

“aren’t you going to let them out?” friend 1 asks after a moment.

the pred squeezes absentmindedly at their stomach’s new occupant and only spares a distracted glance at friend 1. “ah sorry, no. I’ve never let a prey back out before and I’m not about to start now.”

the form within them begins to shift about a little more uncomfortably.

“but… but they’re your friend?” friend 1 can only stutter.

“yeahhh, they are,” the pred agrees looking genuinely a little sympathetic. “but you guys said you were cool with it and I’m not about to change how I do things now. again, sorry.”

by now, friend 2 is in a panic trying to escape, but the pred seems unbothered. they merely knead their prey back into submission with one hand and continue typing on their phone with the other.

at a loss, friend 1 can only stand there and gape. the rest of the day they’re forced to watch the pred’s belly get smaller and softer, knowing friend 2’s fate is partly their fault and they themself were only spared by pure chance. they try not to flinch every time friend 2 gathers what strength they have left to fight back, but their struggles grow weaker with each passing hour. friend 1 never challenges the pred’s abilities again.

or… OR the prey knows EXACTLY what they’re getting into, or so they think. they’ve been dating the pred for a long while now and have been considering offering themself as a meal lately. the idea of being made one with their lover is very appealing to them. but they also know it’s very permanent so it’s taken months to build up the nerve to take that one last leap of faith. finally they find the courage to ask.

the pred raises a surprised eyebrow. “really?” they question in disbelief. they aren’t opposed to the idea, they just never would have expected it from their lover.

the prey nods sheepishly, cheeks growing bright red.

the pred immediately drops everything and gives their partner their undivided attention, expression deadly serious. “you know it’s a one way trip, right? this decision is final.”

“I know,” is all the prey answers. “I’ve always known.”

the pred nods, satisfied. without further ado, the take their partner into their mouth. they ever so slowly swallow them down, giving them plenty of opportunity to change their mind. but they don’t. a few minutes later, the prey is sealed within their final resting place.

to keep things romantic, the pred puts on their partner-turned-meal’s favorite movie while they digest. at first, it’s just a tingling sensation for the prey. but then it’s an all encompassing burning. suddenly, this is far less romantic than they’d expected. their pred partner had always been so sweet and gentle, but then inside of their stomach is absolutely brutal and unrelenting.

“I’ve changed my mind,” the prey suddenly gasps, fighting against the crushing walls. “I don’t want this anymore. please. let me out.”

the pred just gives their belly a few comforting rubs. “sorry, love. but you already know that what goes into my stomach doesn’t ever come back out. you’re just going to have to stay right where you are.”

this isn’t what the prey wants to hear. they quickly turn to begging, then bargaining. finally they’re reduced to sobbing. it all falls on deaf ears as the prey massages their lover throughout the whole process and continues watching the movie. by the time the film is over, the prey has given up on escape. the only signs of life the pred can feel as they get ready for bed is the occasional twitch or shiver from within. when they crawl into bed and curl around their belly, they make sure to wish their partner one last goodnight. the only response they get is a weakened kick. the pred smiles as they drift to sleep.

#‘I’m just gonna write something about this real quick’ I foolishly say as I hit New Post #(it was not ‘real quick’)#soft vore #v.ore #willing pred #willing prey #unwilling prey #semi willing prey #casual vore #fatal vore #uncaring pred #kinda? they sorta care but not… enough #betrayal vore

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years ago

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Zoro and His Feelings with You (NSFW/FLUFF)

Black Fem Reader , because she calls Zoro “nigga”…like once…twice WC: 1.3K

CW: (un)Established Relationships, Soft Zoro, Implied Virginity Loss, Light Smut all together, Fluff, Zoro is shy about his feelings, Reader is described to have curly hair

@roronoaswifey Happy Birthday!✨(its still 9pm over here :(()

“I’m not even that dirty.”

“GET IN THE TUB!”

You’re never sure why Zoro always had this hate of putting some water on his body but you knew once you both started hanging out more he would either bathe with you or sleep somewhere else. As stubborn as he can be he did at least agree to two baths a week. The second only being if he needed it.

And after today he needed it.

“You smell like blood, sweats, and tears you are not sleeping with me.”

“It’s not even th—“

“Sleep outside I don’t give a damn.”

“OH MY GOSH FINE!”

Ever since you and the bafoon became more closer in your situationship, Zoro deemed more clingy to you.

He always found himself around you, taking your hand to go somewhere, and even caught himself staring at you a few times. It was so awkward on his behalf.

Eventually you caught on to it. That he liked you more than a crewmate, but dammit he made it hard to talk to him about it. He was never great at expressing romantic feelings expect through his flustered cheeks when you tease him.

“I don’t need a -“

“Shut up you smell like 40 cans of bounce that ass—“

“WHAT?!”

You move his face forward as he sits comfortably between your thighs in the hot water, he actually acted like a child, pouting while you washed his hair.

“You’re such a baby..” You said, rubbing harshly into his scalp, your acrylic nails scratching him just right he began to sink further into your touch. You heard him mumble a little with his head now laid softly on your breast.

“‘M not.”

“Are too.”

“AM NOT!”

“Raise yo voice at me again, nigga.”

The bickering between you both continued. It was always like that between you both, one moment you’re cursing at him about how horrible his diet is, the next you’re debating about which alcoholic drink is the best.

But you loved it.

It felt, natural for you both to feel so comfortable, especially since you’ve been more than that a few months ago.

Which is why this was bothersome.

Because here you are: now facing him on his lap, naked in the water as he scrubs your chest, surprisingly no sexual intent behind it, just casual conversation as he touches your body. Washing your bare torso and cracking jokes.

“….I think if you just started working out with me I—oi—.”

He looked at your face, it was an unread look behind it, Zoro’s rasped voice helps you look at him with a crooked smile,

“You alright?"

You knew by saying yes you'd be just wasting his time and yours denying because he always managed to see through your bullshit. How could you hide the look though? You always happen to catch yourself thinking about Zoro and you when you're with or not with him.

"Aye--" His hands emersed from the water to hook his finger under your chin to look at him. His sudden boldness! You gasped, taking a second to look at his features, pretty skin, shining from the water, his beautiful dark grey eyes, the subtle indentations on the corner of his lips that form dimples when he laughs with you, his natural wet wavy hair attaching to his forehead.

And those lips,

those damned lips you--

missed.

So much, you missed so much from that night.

He was so surprisingly soft. The way he held you close, the way how though he was embarrassed he couldn't stop his body from moving on its own, the way he didn't leave a mark of your body unkissed.

He was so..

special.

And you missed it.

"Common, speak to m--mph!"

You couldn't help yourself. You had to kiss him, there was no way he didn't want to be kissed if he was that close.

It may have been wrong, but then why did it feel so good? Why are his palms cupping your cheeks? Why is he breathing harshly but not letting go? Why did you feel Zoro deepen the kiss?

"I--" You both stuttered, Zoro's face couldn't get any redder.

"I'm so sorry." You spoke softly at him, his eyes as wide as can be, pupils small, and chewing at his lip.

It was so awkward between you both you wanted to rush out the tub, but instead--

"Fuck---" Zoro hummed into your mouth. You couldn't stop yourself not tonight, you felt his hands ghost over your spine to arch into him, your slit grazing against his hardening cock on his abdomen. Fuck, you missed the feeling of him.

If only you knew how much he missed the feeling of you too.

"w-w-wait wait. Zo-!" You moaned as his fingers tugged at your scalp, and the other down to your ass to give a tight squeeze to lift you a little on his muscular thigh while he nibbled lightly at your damp neck, pushing away your ginger curls. The room somehow felt hotter and steamier and though you didn't want it to end,--

"Z-zo....are w-we...ah-!"

"Are we what...?" He pulled back a little to look up at you, breathing out of his mouth.

You paused again, but Zoro wasn't having it, so he gave your butt a small swat underwater, "Are we what?”

"...Are we....together Zo...Like...in a relationship ..."

You nearly had the made choke on air. He laid back on the tub trynna straighten up, but failed horribly.

"You ask that now?"

"Yes now you ass. I just..."

"...I just haven't stopped thinking about that night we had together,...and how we got close, but....never done it again and most importantly....never...um..."

"...talked about us...I know." He looked to the left for a moment, wiped his flustered face and looked back at you, "....I have thought.....you know...about us too...and....I don't know I thought it can go unsaid that you'd be my woman now or something."

"....excuse you, you didn't even take me out on a date--"

"Those times we left the Merry together--"

"No nigga that wasn't a date that was us doing errands....but...you um....you....you said I'm yo woman?"

"Lord..."

"Nah say it.."

Zoro scoffed, you both were now aware of each other's intention with moving forward in your relationship, but just for good measure you have to tease a bit, so you looked down to his brown blushing tip and rub your thumb on it earing a hiss from

your man.

"Common." You coo'ed in his ear now grabbing the base of his cock to slowly stroke up and down. "Say it."

"Ffffffuck--y---"

"ah ah that's not nice....say...it." You applied more pressure to squeezing him, his hand gripped at your forearm, gritting his teeth. "Move your fucking hand, Zo. And say it or I stop."

"...you're my...fucking woman...pleasedontstop."

He sounded so pretty, his chest rising, you were satisfied with his answer enough to kiss him again stroking his cock, and now tugging his hair, his uncoordinated hand went from one breast to rub and pull on to the other as you slid your tongue his mouth.

Back like nothing left, the room got hot again, you began to grind on his thigh for more simulation for your clit, whining out his name brought a chill to his spine, he needed to hear more.

He took advantage knowing your sensitive areas from last time. His lips latch on to your breast and suckle.

“You! Ah! Fucker..” a choked out moan mixed with a giggle fall through your lips with him.

He was such a cocky bastard despite his red cheeks, his middle finger slightly circling your clit to push out the orgasm you been aching for, but

He stops. Admiring the angry pouty fucked out face you have from your stolen orgasm he pecks your bottom lip and suggests to finish in your room

Since you're his woman now.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #TimikosZoro #black reader #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #Zoro #Zoro smut #zoro x black reader #Zoro x female reader #zoro x y/n #zoro imagine #zoro fluff #one piece zoro #ronoroa zoro

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aphroditestempleimagines · 1 year ago

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Out of a fairytale (18+) - part 1

Pairing: Edgar Allan Poe x fem!reader

Colour: Sweet and romantic

Warnings: fluff, romantic sex, vaginal sex, fingering, oral (fem and male receiving) + 69, language, nipple play, orgasm delay (implied), outdoor sex, thigh riding, come swallowing, kissing, handjob, cold play, a bit of food, established relationship

Words: idk like 2000 and smth

Summary: You receive a curious present for your birthday; the peculiar book arrived in the mail first thing in the morning. When you open it, you are transported to a fairytale-like castle where your lover has scripted every detail to perfection.

Part 1 ~ Royalcore version 《

Part 2 ~ Gothic Version

The knock on the door caught you by surprise. Your heart fluttered at the thought of your lover’s image standing outside your house. Alas, your excitement was for nought, as all you gazed upon was a scruffy delivery man.

“Sign here”, he said after handing you a rectangular package. He held a receiver form in one hand, pen under thumb, and texted on his phone with the other.

“I didn’t order anything”, you objected.

“Is that your name and address?”, he said without taking his eyes from his phone.

“eh...y-yes?”

“Then sign here”, he pushed the form towards you once again.

With your birthday being just the day before you paid no more thought to the package’s origins. A lot of your friends were abroad and you were used to receiving presents from them by mail. It was only that...he was away as well.

Your pen pondered on the paper amidst signing your name. For the first time since you were seeing each other, Poe had to leave your home in Japan to return to America. On top of that, his work meant that he would not be allowed to see you on your birthday. He had called you early in the morning the day before to shower you with sweet words. But it was not the same. You took the package into your arms to compensate for the loss of your lover. It was not enough either.

You thanked the delivery man and retrieted into your home. The package was not particularly lightweight yet not really heavy either. As you peeled the brown wrapper you confirmed rather than realised that it was a book. Its white hard cover was beautifully bound with a rose ribbon bookmark hanging from the top, and the title “The Princess and the Poet” displayed in golden letters at the front. There was no writer listed on the cover. One would have thought after a year together you would had automatically guessed who it was from. But in the early morning daze that clouded your brain, all you could think of doing is open the book to check inside.

“ This is the tale of two lovers, who loved with a love that was more than love. The poet and his princess. With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven coveted her and him.”

Even as you read those first words your body was surrounded by a golden cloud of words, a cloud which shrouded your entire room and transported you somewhere new. Suddenly, you were standing in the middle of an internal garden. Your simple pajamas were replaced by an elegant pastel gown. Your heels clicked on the rose marble floor as you approached the Sakura tree in the middle. The small rosey petals were carried by a wind of unknown origin throughout the room. The small skylight at the crown of the dome let the light of the sunset seep into the ballroom, painting it in shades of soft orange and red. It did not take you long now to realise what had happened.

"I'm so glad you came", a familiar voice said behind you.

You turned around to see your lover standing at the entrance of the room. He wore a white and grey prince's uniform with a long one-shoulder creme cape. His hair was pulled back at one side exposing one of his eyes. He extended his hand towards you and gave you a regal bow. Even from that distance, you could see his cheeks and ears grow red as he did his best to act like the character he had created.

"Ed!", you beamed and ran towards him. You threw your arms around his shoulders and buried your face in his hair. The familiar scent of cologne, ink, and jasmine that surrounded you convinced you of his existence.

He wrapped his arms around you as well. You felt his hand behind your head as he buried his face in your shoulder. "I'm sorry I missed it", he said in sorrow, "I thought I had calculated the times perfectly"

"It's okay", you squeezed him in your arms, "At least now you're here now."

He lifted your head by the cheek and chased the draught away from your lips with a long-awaited sweet kiss. "I made two copies of the book I sent you", he said, "So no matter the distance, we can always meet here"

"Shouldn't there be a murder here?", you asked, "Isn't that how your ability works?"

He smiled. "I don't need a murder", he said, "Just a mystery". His arm held you close by the waist while he guided you through the ballroom to a white and golden door. It opened as the two of you approached to reveal a beautiful garden of roses surrounding a white marble gazebo. The sweet smell of the flowers accompanied you as you walked down the stone-paved path. He retrieved his hand from your waist as you reached the small building. He let you take his hand as you climbed the steps. Under the gazebo's dome, Edgar had scripted a luxurious set of pillows and sheets and mattresses, next to a plethora of the sweetest delicacies. He supported you as you took a seat before resting at your side.

"I brought us right to the ending", he said, "As the writer, I know it would be much more interesting for the two of us"

"I'm sure", you smiled and placed your hand over his, "I missed you"

He looked at you with those puppy dog eyes, as if he could not believe the words that left your mouth. He fell back to his awkward mannerisms as he reached for the strawberry cake in front of him. "You should try this", he hid his face behind the plate, "I wrote it was delicious so it should be delicious."

You gladly accepted the dessert, if only to reveal Poe's blushed cheeks from behind it. You cut out a small bite and brought it into your mouth. Your eyes closed; the sweetness of the cream filled your senses, only battled by the sourness of fresh strawberries. "It's delicious", you said as soon as you swallowed. You did not have time to open your eyes before Ed crashed his lips onto yours. His kiss was sweeter than the cake and bolder than usual. He tasted the sweet dessert in your mouth before pulling back. His entire face was redder than a radish and you knew he had intended for this scene to play out exactly as it did.

"Indeed", he said, trying to cover his blush with the back of his hand, "Delicious"

"You know", you put down the plate and fork, "I know what you're planning"

Edgar looked at you, the reddish tint never leaving his cheeks. "Do you?", his eyes looked at you worriedly as if he had been caught stealing.

You walked towards him on your hands and knees. He reclined backwards as you came close. "I do", you said climbing on top of him. You could hear his ragged breath as you crashed your lips on his. He cupped your cheek and pulled you closer so he could once again taste the sweetness of your mouth. You grinded your hips on him to spite him. You swallowed a moan from him before he managed to grip your waist and keep you still. "What's wrong?", your smile teased him as much as your body. You leaned close enough to whisper in his ear, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

His lips traced your bare neck. His arms were sweetly wrapped around your torso as if guarding a treasure. He span the two of you around, hand protecting your precious head. "You have no idea", his eyes were closed as he touched his forehead on yours. His lips were sweet, drinking your melodious sighs. Your body was encased underneath his, his knees on each side of you. You could feel his bulge brush over you each time he lowered his body enough to kiss you.

"And here I thought you were a gentleman", your fingers combed his hair as he kissed you right above the bust. His one hand was already undoing the laces of your dress, but he stopped at the sound of your voice.

He seemed genuinely worried as he asked, "Would you like me to stop?"

He had this adorable shimmer in his pleading eyes. You knew he hung from your every word. He had pulled himself away at the slightest notion of discomfort, even if it was a mere jest on your part. Even so, nothing could hide the undying desire that blazed inside him and made his heart and breath race.

"Oh Ed", you laughed at his sweet confusion, "I only want you to stop when you finally had enough of me"

He smiled. "You are asking too much my love", he leaned back over you. He pulled your dress down until your body was rid of it, leaving you in your undergarments. "If I do that, I shall have to continue for eternity", he placed your hands over your breasts before he climbed down between your legs, "Or at least until my heart sings its last beat".

He lifted your chemise and buried his face on your mount. His tongue slipped between your rosey walls as he held your thighs apart. He alternated between kisses and licks as his fingers began circling your sensitive bud.

"Fuck, ED!", you could not help your body from arching as his lips shifted to suck on your bud, and he thrust two of his fingers inside you. You were by now more than wet enough to accommodate them. He knew your body so well that they curled and hit just the right spots inside you to make your body quiver in desire. He seemed to be melting more and more at each call of his name. He climbed higher. With his hand still working on your lower lips, his mouth captivated your upper ones. He placed one hand on your nape as he broke the kiss, letting his moans explode on your skin. You felt his breath on your cheeks, his need in his voice. He scissored his fingers. Your legs lifted on their own as he pressed on your silky walls. You wanted him. Your hands reached for his embroidered coat and began undoing its golden buttons until they could reach beneath the silk white shirt that hid behind. You knew your hands were cold from the stone's chill, but only when he trembled under their touch and you felt the scolding heat of his torso did you realise just how much you were torturing him. You could feel your wetness as it dripped from you to his fingers.

He broke free. He shook his jacket off and threw it aside. He pulled his shirt and got his head tangled up in the white fabric. You laughed. You heard his light chuckle underneath the tent he had made for himself. You sat up and helped him pull it off. The moment he was freed he reached for your body and pulled you onto his embrace. Your hips met his as your core drenched his light grey trousers. He collided his lips with yours. Your kiss was like water to a dying man. His hands cupped your exposed breasts, thumbs brushing over the nipples in a way that had you aching for more.

You pushed him down. His body fell on the white sheet on which he had displayed the food, framed by the numerous delicacies he had prepared. His chest heaved, his expression painful as he examined your body with his gaze. He reached for the laces of your pulled-down corset but you pushed his hand away. Your eyes fixed on his, you slowly undid the garment, leaving you only in your chemise which you easily took off. A slight chill enveloped your body. Your hands clamped around your torso at the sudden breeze, your body slightly shivering. Edgar's warm hand cupped your cheek. He had raised his body to reach your lips. He pulled you against him, his one hand rubbing up and down your torso, his other moving your hips against his thighs.

"Ed..."

"I know my love", his voice was strained as he pulled out a condom from his pocket, "I want you too". He freed his length from his trousers and dressed it. He slid the tip by your needy lips but never past them. "I want you so so much", he whispered between kisses, "so so much"

His length finally penetrated you. He let out a large moan that mixed with the sound of yours.

"You're so beautiful", he said as he began working his thrusts.

He held your hips to meet his in tandem until his head fell back. His eyes kept trying to focus back on yours, to check if your pleasure was as delightful as his, yet he kept losing himself in its depths.

"Edgar!", you cried in happiness. You shot your hand down on the floor to support you. Your fingers curled, clutching the white tablecloth instinctively as your back arched in your body's delight.

"Gah", he reached to rub eights on your bud. His lips caressed your breasts as he planted kisses closer and closer to their centres. You cried his name again. His hips met yours again and again, each time more agile and rough than the last. "God", he huffed on your chest, "Stay with me forever"

"I will!", you cried. His scraped your spine with his nails to urge your body into a tremble. His other hand pressed harsher on you, his eyes, ever watchful on your expression as you melted in his arms. He had his own struggle as your walls squeezed him the closer he brought you to ecstasy. He sought comfort in your body. He distracted himself with more kisses and loving nips at your skin. At last you let go. Your body slumped as the knot way down deep burst under the skill of his sword. You could not feel the chill any longer.

His tired breath exploded against your face. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips. He pressed his forehead on yours. "I love you so much", he tucked your hair, wet from sweat, behind your reddened ears. He planted a chaste kiss on your lips, one which you did not allow to remain anything other than deep.

He pulled out, resting your hips on his thighs. He continued to caress you, but you could feel how hard he still was as your own juices darkened his pulled trousers. "Edgar", you kissed him, "You're not done"

"It's okay", his arms kept you close as he nipped at your neck. "It's enough for me that you are"

He could be so stubborn sometimes. "It's not for me", your hand reached down for his erection. Your fingers wrapped around his length, moving up and down until they removed the condom. Your thumb brushed what precum came from the end. Edgar had buried his face in your shoulder. His expression was hidden, but his sounds were ever audible as his touch desperately sought yours. You did not see when his hand scooped some of the cake until the frosting touched your lips. You had begun kissing him lower, climbing down, when they nudged at the side of your mouth. You let them in. The sugary feeling and the softness of the cream overp-

"Sit on my face"

"Hm?", his fingers were still in your mouth. You were happy you did not bite them, but it seemed that he had led them there intentionally.

He brushed his thumb over the corner of your mouth. "If you're going...to do this haah...", he could not control his breath now that your fingers worked faster, "I need to...to make you feel good too"

He averted his gaze as soon as you sought it. He was red up to the tip of his ears. You retracted your hand, licking his precum off your fingers before you pulled him for a kiss. "Okay", you said.

You turned your body around until your hips were above his face. You were careful with how much weight you let down, fearful to crush him, but his hands pulled you down against his lips. He greedily kissed every part between your legs before he let his tongue work your walls once more. He was much more forceful than when you two had begun, almost making you forget what you were supposed to do. You could not reject that this had been his intention either.

With your eyes still clouded, you buried your face between his legs, your hands blindly working at his length as you confessed your cries to his skin. You could feel the effect you had on him even with such a small effort. But that had not been the point. You wanted him to feel at the very least as good as he made you feel. You kissed his length at the side before taking it in your mouth. Your fingers continued to work down at whatever you could not take.

"Fuuuck", he breathed, "Y/n!"

Much like you could not focus earlier, now he was losing his edge. But not for long. He tested your core before finally inserting three of his fingers inside. You were still sensitive enough for a tremble to spread to your limps, but your body still accepted him gratefully. He dipped his other hand in the melted ice that was supposed to keep the champagne cold before he pressed it at the edge of your clit. You squeaked and closed your legs around him. It felt so good. He felt so good. You picked up your pace. He moaned against you but that only contributed to your own pleasure even more. You could not keep your body from the fall any longer. The cord snapped and he lapped at your entrance as you sat heavier on him. But he was not far behind, you could feel it in the heavy breaths he tried to hide by kissing your lower lips again. You could see it in the way his toes curled and his legs retracted as much as he tried to hold them planted. His hands held your hips as he fell back and cried for you. His breaths were desperate as his essence filled your mouth. You could not see his face, but his body lifted yours up and down simply with the strength of his breaths filling his lungs.

You climbed off him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you into his embrace. He kissed you on the forehead, then the nose. His arms wrapped tightly around you. He was taller than you, and so he opted to pull your face to rest on his chest as he pressed his cheek on your hair. His breathing slowly calmed down. His eyes were closed but he was not asleep.

"I've missed you so much", he murmured. His voice was always so expressive, so evident of the pain or joy he felt.

You held him tighter, hiding your face in his chest. "I missed you too", your whisper was almost inaudible; but he heard it and chuckled as he petted your hair.

You pulled your body upwards. You reached for two of the pillows you had scattered around with your dalliance and placed them side to side for your heads to rest. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing up and down your skin.

"You said this is a mystery novel", you told him, arms hooking underneath his before resting your palm on his back, "I'm curious, what's the mystery"

He smiled. "I don't think I'll reveal it just yet", he said, "And please don't do so either even if you find it out yourself." He placed another kiss on your nose, moving his body close enough for his forehead to touch yours once more. His one arm snaked underneath you. "Call me greedy", he said, "But I'd like to hold you in my arms at the very least a little bit longer"

He closed his eyes again. His lips were smiling as he appreciated the moment to its full.

You smiled too. "How could I ever object to that?", you told him and followed his example.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never had a taglist until today but:

@stygianoir

This feels lowkey weird

#poe #bsd poe #bsd smut #bsd x reader #edgar allan poe #edgar allan poe bsd #poe x reader #bsd poe x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut

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mothiir · 5 months ago

Note

Because I am a whore with a size kink, I am going to ask you this: Which Primach would be best at sex? If hypothetically, they found a person skilled or strong enough to take their horsecocks.

Personally, I think it would be something between Magnus, Horus or Vulkan.

Magnus is a psyker so, in turn, he could do absolutely his evil little hearts would want. I think he would find somebody to sleep around the easiest because he can change his form at any time. He, along with Konrad, I think would be honestly the kinkiest little shits ever

I would headcann Horus to have multiple mistressee and love affairs. Also, canonically, he kinda has a breeding kink and wants little Primachs (not quite as the books, but something similar). He's the type of dude to think that sex is only for making babies but he also loves making babies

Vulkan, my beloved 😍, is the gentlest and most attentive amongst his brothers to humanity. He would obviously be a loving partner who, in my opinion, would first wait to marry his lover then make love to them. He doesn't have sex or simply fucks them, HE MAKES LOVE TO THEM. He would the most romantic and gentle. To get into his pants, he would have to actually and genuinely love you. He is either the first or second tallest Primachs so he would obviously be very careful. Also this man has to have a praise kink and you bet your arse that he is going to worship his partner when they make love

yes okay so i would agree that vulkan would definitely the best in bed and here are some additional points:

canonically the salamanders have families on their home planet that they visit - its not really made clear if these are wives/husbands and children or parents, but i choose to believe that it is both, which means that the salamanders fuck. they take after their daddy <3

vulkan is a very very large primarch, which means penetration in general is off the table for him — he doesn’t want to risk hurting his partners. unlike some people (cough, emperor, cough) he won’t chance tearing them open back to front by just jamming his dick in there.

as a result of the above, he really likes intercrural sex - which, for those of you who don’t know, means thigh-fucking. he’ll ask his partner to put their knees tight together and happily go to town.

he also really likes oral - both giving and receiving. he will make you see stars, and then planets orbiting them, and will encourage his partner to sit on his face so he can really get in there. he’ll get very touchy while doing it, holding their hand and stroking their back and mumbling praise between their thighs.

because yes you are totally right! he has a praise kink, and he is very open about it — he will tell them how wonderful they are, how soft and sweet and how well they take him. it tends to be more soft and romantic than outright filthy, but hey i’m sure he’d be happy to get filthy if you ask nicely.

time for the sad bit: i see him as a serial monogamist. unlike most of his brothers, he actually has the emotional capacity to not only court a human but to deal with their inevitable aging and death. he will stick with his partner as they age, letting the relationship transition from the raw physicality of youth to the domesticity of later middle age to the twilight years. he never makes them feel lesser than hm; he values mortals for their shining bright lives, made all the sweeter by their briefness. unlike some (coughEMPERORcough) he does not let the loss of his loved ones jade him or blunt him to his humanity; instead he sees it as a way to reconnect with what matters, and what he is fighting for.

like all primarchs, he’s sterile and can never have children of his own blood, but he is more than happy to adopt any child that his partner already has, as well as whatever war orphans are hanging around

at heart he’s a family man. and isn’t that the tragedy?

#horus and magnus in a different post because this one already too long #vulkan/reader #headcanons #ask me

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phoeebsbuffay · 2 years ago

Text

Imagine Darth Vader finds out you are alive. He keeps track of what you've been up to in these years he became the Sith Lord. You are led to believe he was long dead... Until something happens.

Warnings: a lot of drama, angst... Contains smut, not recommended for minors.

Warnings 2: alternative universe where we have no Ahsoka Tano and Padmé Amidala. Here, Y/N is a character whose plot mixes them both; unburnt Vader.

Warnings 3: Anakin never killed the younglings in any of my stories even as Vader.

Warnings 4: fluffy endings.

Recommendation:"Broken" (Seether ft. Amy Lee); “Pictures of You” by “The Cure”.

***

Intro

Once again, darkness flows uncontrollably. It gravitates towards its victim, ready to attack its heart by surrounding it and suffocating it as its poison dismisses any sight of light.

From the darkest waters, a man arises. From the flames of Mustafar, the one great Jedi has become the very thing he swore to destroy.

Darth Vader is hungry not only for the power to him denied when he was a general Jedi whose reputation once earned admiration from all, but for independence as well. To be set free of the chains of the misled Order he’d been so loyal to after countless years of losses, he is abandoned by all those he loved.

Except by one person.

One single woman escapes his resentment and anger. This woman is Y/L Y/LN. You. Of average height, y/c hair, soft y/c skin and eyes dark as coal, you and him met right after you were under the guidance of General Skywalker. You were not of an age to be a Padawan anymore, you were eighteen, in fact, about to become a Knight Jedi.

Skywalker back then resisted this idea mostly because he thought he did not need a Padawan whatsoever. But after an initial clash between the two of you, there came something. You started getting along.

He got harder on you, despite being very impressed by your skills. You always awoke the best of him. He’d never seen a Jedi as you: powerful, yes, but centered and altruist. Your patience and sharp wit surprised even Obi-Wan Kenobi. However, it was your recklessness and stubbornness that attracted Skywalker.

As diplomatic as you were, sometimes working under disguise to protect a Senator of Planet Y/C, you had your own issues with authority. Not often you did what others told you not to.

In spite of that, two years later Anakin was proud of you: you successfully became a Knight Jedi. He insisted that it was not too soon until you became a Jedi Master. Yet, it turned out to be a very difficult period of your lives. It was when you and Anakin began to seeing each other with romantic eyes.

That was precisely when everything started going wrong. You two had just gotten secretly married when someone set you a trap. The Council expelled you of the Order without a proper investigation of the case. Anakin could not believe the injustice he saw it was done to you. Though he eventually managed to prove your innocence, clearing you of all accusations, the damage was done. Thus was that you refused to go back to the Order.

Despite these circumstances, you carried on. You had a normal life to live together with your husband until the day Anakin went to a mission to spy the Chancellor only to never go back to your arms. It was when the Order 66 forced you to go separate ways.

To you, Anakin Skywalker was dead. And to him, you as well. Until this day… when Darth Vader meditates and only through the Force he discovers your whereabouts.

“By the Maker”, he chokes when he is led to you. “Y/L, you are alive!”

***

Nowadays.

Your POV

It’s been two years, but your conscience does not cease to torment you. The specter of what could have been comes in the form of sweet nightmares that frequently has awaken you in salty tears.

The day the Order 66 had been carried out you discovered you were pregnant. You wanted to tell Anakin yourself: this was a moment where you both prepared for it. You had found an unofficial new job as a keeper of the peace to the Senator of Naboo, something you’ve chosen to do because Obi-Wan insisted and Anakin promised he needed a few more years before both of you left Coruscant.

That was the plan. But that same day, happiness clouded your judgement. You didn’t realize what was going on until Obi-Wan had sent you a trooper of his trust to inform something wrong happened to Anakin. You had to be prepared for what was to come, he was about to suggest you to go elsewhere.

“What good does it do to dwell in what was done?”, you mumble to yourself as you keep walking towards the market.

But memories remain crystal clear in the back of your mind. When the clone turned suddenly against you, trying to kill you in the process… When the circumstances escalated to a tragedy upon which you lost your dear child. And your husband.

Alone in this world, you now wage your own wars. At first, you are isolated—you don’t want to know about Jedis and Siths anymore, you’ve lost too much for either side. You don’t feel right with Anakin’s gone, you are too broken to live up at any resistance out there against the Empire.

You come to the underworld. There are times you sense someone is watching you. You turn, suspicious, but there is no one there. However, the sensation does not leave you.

You eventually cross the path of rebellious sisters whose ship you helped building. One of them, named Seara, is intrigued by your melancholic, closed behavior.

“We don’t even know your name.”

“Why would you like to know my name? I am just passing by.”

“No attachments, eh? I thought we could be friends.”

You feel as if you ghost yourself when you respond:

“We are not friends.”

Yet, eventually war out there comes for you. The moment you all are captured by a ship of pirates is the one you realize you cannot let Seara and her sister die because you simply have no other use for this world.

But it’s right here that your former Jedi self ignites a spark that would bring to you the attention of a very dangerous pair of yellow eyes.

***

Darth Vader’s POV.

His frustration is fed when he is forced to acknowledge he’d been made a fool. Not only once as a child, or often as a Jedi, but even now as the apprentice to Palpatine. What has changed? An unposed question that holds a very bitter answer.

As he stares into the emptiness ahead of him, Lord Vader begins to contemplate instead how to get to you. Once the destruction of the Order meant to get his revenge for all the harm that has been done to you, to amend their wrongs and their injustices. However, this was not the sole point of his anger, of how he pursuit darkness as a solution for his problems.

By doubling his power, Lord Vader thought of you and you alone. He wanted to be the one to give you the life you deserved, comfortable and filled with proper luxuries—even though neither of you were excessively materialists. Nonetheless, what is this now but an illusion that is dissipating right before his eyes?

Seeing your suffering—the one that resulted from his doings—does not appease his angst. It only further bleeds his heart with guilt, breaking his spirit more than he cares to admit.

The only way now is to get his vengeance done. Vader realizes it has never been fully complete. Palpatine must die. A reasonable and yet bittersweet thought. Only then, he is coming for you, his precious love. The Jedi who left, the Jedi who never fell. His angel who remained pure before his eyes.

However, he must see you one more time. The temptation is too great to ignore.

What are you doing, Y/N? If only you knew…

It takes some time before he is led to a scene in which Vader promptly recognizes it as being part of the planet Y/C. You are under heavy rain, a grey hood omitting your features. You stare into the ocean, ignoring the presence of storm troopers who are still under the obeisance of the Order 66.

Vader fears for you. He instantly reconnects with you, trying to send some warnings about it. He sees you are startled by how tense your shoulders are. But you take his silent warning and when you turn, you are surrounded by five clones.

Vader feels an angst washing over his body, flowing over his hands, closing his fists as he tries to hold back a scream. In this very moment, though, the moment is gone. He cannot know what happens to you and to worse the current situation, Palpatine is looking for his pupile.

“I sense a weakness in you, Lord Vader”, his calm voice gives the other nerves. “What am I detecting here?”

“There is nothing to detect, my lord.” Vader goes in one knee, ignoring the look Palpatine casts him.

“I should better hope that you are not cultivating any animosity towards me, Lord Vader, unless death is what you aim to taste.”

There is little need for the demonstrations of anger for almost promptly Darth Vader submits to his Master.

For now, though.

For now.

***

Your POV.

As you embark into this strange adventure with the rebellious sisters, trouble is inevitable. Soon, Seara finds out who you truly are.

“A Jedi!”, she exclaims, perplexed.

“You are a Jedi”, her older sister echoes the observation.

You are too impatient dealing with your enemies to explain your current state.

“Just go to the other side. Don’t be reckless, Seara!”, when seeing you are ignored and the other one tries to help, you let a cry out: “No! GET OUT OF HERE!”

You levitate them and throw them at the ship that awaits your leave. It’s the one you find at your disposal—or some sort of it, anyway.

“Just go!”

You turn, trying not to bear in mind the day where remaining troops found you and when they were about to blaster against you, you swear you could hear Anakin’s husky voice warning you about their presence.

How?

Would you dare to nurture hope? Would you dare to give ears to the truth that has been resounding in your heart at the silent sound of drums? Would you?

Oh for fuck’s sake. You know there is nothing left for me, Y/N…

You dismiss this new hope, rather concentrating in the days Anakin was your Master and when he got hard on you.

“Remember the new blows I taught you, Y/N”, he cried out to you. “Rise and resist!”

You would drop every single time. At every shot, you thought you’d get beaten. But you’d prove him wrong. You were not weak.

“Go on, lass!”

And eventually you did. You not only brought a small smile to his lips, but you surprised Obi-Wan Kenobi. You knocked every opponent down, you surpassed almost every one in your trainings

As you look at the countless enemies that stand right before you, a thought occurs you.

Why should I fear them?

What happens next comes in slow motion. Your cape embraces the cold wind that comes from outside. You can hear the protests of the sisters you are now protecting, thanks to the powers you’ve doubled recently, when you managed to levitate the heavy ship and send it away.

Your eyes never leave your enemies. You remember seeing every moment of your life running right before your eyes. Specially where Anakin is concerned.

‘Remembering you standing quiet in the rain, as I ran to your heart to be near. And we kissed as the sky fell in…’

His caressing, his eyes staring down into yours, the sweet promises that came out of his mouth, the taste of his tongue in a synchronized rhythm with yours… How he held you near, how you heard his heart beating.

Or how he warmed your body in tempest nights, when he soothed your fears concerning thunders, when he peppered your skin with soft kisses.

“I love you”, you often said when he laid next to your side, staring into those blue eyes with the same intensity that hid behind yours. “There is nothing in the world that I ever want more than to be with you.”

“You are the stars of my universe, Y/N”, he whispered back, finding peace in your arms. “I love you. I will always gravitate to you, I will always find you.”

As memory turns into dust and salty tears are swallowed, stuck in your throat, you are brought back to nowadays. The troops step aside and an Inquisitor comes, laughing manically, posing himself a threat with a woman by his side.

“We know who you are”, you are told, hands resting in your sabers. “Almost a Senator, almost a Jedi. It’s what you are. An almost who is now about to become nothing.”

“Yet you treat me like a Jedi”, you answer softly, disdain rolling in your tongue, another inheritance of your husband. “Should I presume you fear me enough to attempt to disqualify me? I am not forgetting the wrongs you’ve done to the one I love.”

Another laughter.

“Did no one tell you that vengeance and anger are not the Jedi way?”

You finally hold your sabers in your hands, eyes narrowed at your opponents.

And a sly smirk twitches in the corner of your lips when you respond them:

“Well, I am no Jedi, you sons of a bitch.”

Thus it is the battle finally begins.

***

Darth Vader’s POV.

His eyes stare down into the lifeless corpse of Palpatine. Despise marks Anakin’s yellow eyes as he leaves it there, to public display under the shocked stare of thousands of troops and those who served the Empire loyally.

They all follow their Sith Lord with an astonished gaze stamped in their faces. What are they supposed to do now? A silent, unspoken question that is to meet, however, an even terrible end. Their reward for their evil services is dying under the forces not of Vader, who mysteriously escapes, but those of rebels who sought an opportunity and promptly took it.

Disguised under this vine hood, Vader’s mind and heart are far from the fall of the Empire he helped to build. As he concentrates, he comes to find you in a very violent battle.

Though he is proud of how you fight—(I taught you well, Y/nickname)—he is concerned in the same measure. How on earth will you alone defeat two of the most dangerous inquisitors? Not that he underestimates you, but as Vader is shown the fire spreading around the place you are fighting your war, his concern only grows.

“Fuck, Y/N. Fuck, don’t fight them off! Run away!” He tries to yell at you through the Force.

Though a disturbance is felt, all he can see is the tears that blurry your y/c eyes. Nonetheless, you don’t quake in fear. You are fierce, proud, every inch a Jedi trained and shaped to be one by your Master—the same one you married to.

But you resist. You scream, you give the best of yourself, many of the clones drop dead. But the Inquisitors are harder than you expected them to be.

Eventually though, exhaustion comes at you. Unfortunately, it comes in the wrong time. Right before Vader’s eyes, an explosion occurs.

“Y/N!”

His yells could easily echo throughout the dark silence of a nearly phantasmagoric galaxy as he pilots away to wherever you are. For he knows he will find you.

As he does.

***

Your POV.

You believe you are dead. After a long time spent fighting for others’s wars, you are free. You released yourself after being for so long chained to people pleasing here and there, always tirelessly fighting to do the right. Despite the efforts, all you have received from others—except from your husband—was rudeness and unthankfulness.

However, where is peace? Why is there pain in your body, why does it hurt to breathe? You think you hear someone calling your name.

“Kill me”, you hear yourself gasp. “Please. Put an end to this misery.”

You are surprisingly being held into somebody’s arms. The smell of the scent is familiar to you. No. It cannot be.

“Y/N, my darling… I am here.”

The voice is so familiar that you need not much to acknowledge it. You start crying.

“I must be dead then so we are reunited. Oh, Anakin! I was not waiting for you. I’m so sorry I failed you”, you try to speak amidst the pain that inflicts you.

He is so distressed that you cannot tell what really is going on. You cling into him, sensing somehow in your heart there is a different Anakin that is rocking you in his arms.

But he is still my Anakin, nevertheless. My Anakin.

This is the last thought you have before diving into unconsciousness.

***

Darth Vader’s POV.

He watches as you recover. Both of you are now found in a far away galaxy, somewhere where a new beginning is possible. You wake up in a comfortable bed, dressing a nightgown. A droid looks after you, though Anakin ensures not to leave your side.

“You don’t need to apologize or justify the path you’ve taken”, you tell him for the hundredth time as he apologizes to you. The once proud Jedi and even prouder Sith Lord is humbled before the woman he loves.

Vader is baffled by how well you took the new informations. For fear of losing you, he might’ve omitted some details, though he knows you know what he did not tell you.

But you stay. You cling into his arms, feeling safe. Vader watches you mesmerized.

“How can you…?” He cannot even ask.

You raise your eyes to meet his. Darth Vader is pleased to see some color is now painting your cheeks. You’ve been paled and your recovery took some months. Nonetheless, he’d been there for you: consoling your nightmares, tending your wounds and those unseen scars that left you a deep mark.

“There is good in you, Ani. I know there is”, you stroke his cheek, leaning to peck his lips. Your eyes instantly blurry at the proximity. “I still cannot believe you are here.”

“I’m here, darling. I will not leave you ever again. I… I didn’t know…” He chokes a sob, trying to look strong for you.

“Shhh, it’s fine. It’s all right. Come here.” You pull him against your arms and there he stays, his face buried in your neck. “We will get through this together, it’s what you always told me. I love you, Ani.”

His fears are easily soothed by you. The proximity of your bodies helps remembering how close you used to be—in every possible meaning—before the bloody war and the Emperor meddled and ruined your lives.

Yet, as Lord Vader comes to find out, even in darkness it is possible to let there be light. Little by little, he comes to terms with who he is—something you’ve always done, in fact. When now looking into your face, he is amazed by it.

You never expected him to change his nature, you did not yell at him, calling him names for what he’d done. All you two did was talk about what was done and why it was done, never judging the other for it.

“I love you, angel”, he says rather possessively, holding you close.

Playing with your hair and gently resting his hand on your shoulder, you turn at him when sensing the subtle change of his voice. You side smirk at him, feeling the same feeling.

As you rest your hand in his chest, you peck his lips, bitting his bottom lip.

“I love you too, Ani. I’ve missed you”, your voice comes in a whisper as you move your free hand to dive in his curls.

There is only a brief instant of silence hanging in between you. No more pain, no more nightmares at long last. It’s just you two. No more Jedis or Siths, but a husband with his wife.

It wakes the spark that for a very long time had been drowned in both of you. And he is surprised when your hand slips from his chest to his pants.

“Y/N”, he gasps softly. “What… Fuck.”

You smirk against his lips, enjoying the feeling of having his manhood getting hard under your delicate fingers, moving it up and down—slowly at first before increasing the rhythm just the way he enjoys it.

“I missed this”, you moan softly as he kisses you. “I missed us.”

And just like that, the dark beast comes out again. He kisses your neck, leaving all the gentleness behind when Anakin, formerly Lord Vader, bites it, hungry for your touch.

“Oh”, and you enjoy it, not only the feeling you have upon his manhood, but how he is completely dominating in bed.

“My sweet heart”, he growls under his breath as he starts to push your nightgown over your head, moving his body over yours. “Fuck. I…. Shit. No, no. It’s not about me tonight. Let me reward you for your good will towards me darling. Let me make you see stars.”

A shiver runs in your body the moment he says it, pinning your hands above your head all the whilst you feel him so damn close to your feminine parts, which almost makes you whimper.

Specially when he removes his shirt.

“Fuck”, you curse, feeling wet in between your legs.

Anakin smirks down at you before your cursing. He gently parts your legs, teasing you as he first removes your panties before moving his hands to your waist, arms and gently cupping your cheeks.

“Look what I made you into”, he chuckles. “Corrupting you, aren’t I?”

His thumb plays with your full lips and you take the opportunity to bite it and lick it as well. Anakin groans, hardening in the process.

“Oh by the Maker.”

“Yes?” You feign innocence when he looks at you. “Do you remember when you taught me so many ways to please my Master?”

His hands slip to your throat, wrapping them around it, but never doing anything that goes beyond the limits both of you once settled. His eyes stare down your nipples: he loves watching them getting hard under his touch. He in fact loves how easily you react to him.

“How naughty of you, Y/N”, he leans his body forward as he starts to touch your chest, hands playing with your breasts. “Have you been longing for me, wife?”

Anakin smirks pleased when seeing you blush.

“Y-Yes”, you moan in desperation, overall when he uses one of his hands to tease your womanhood. “Oh my… Anakin!”

As you interlock gazes, you feel as if you’d been brought back to heaven and the Lord Vader you know is the dark angel that’s made it reach to you.

***

Your POV.

You have missed riding him. Oh yes, you have. Every naughtiness there has been in you comes back with no shame. Anakin can tell the same as you move your hips slowly, taking his cock rightly so, as if he needs to remember you own him. As he owns you. As each owns the other.

“Oh Maker”, you throw your head back as his touch in your womanhood, as every grasp against your body sets your soul alight. “Oh my… You electrify me, love!”

“I’ve never been so alive as when I’m with you”, you lean downwards again to kiss his lips hungrily, famine for him, for his soul and flesh.

Anakin now flips positions and he is dominating you once more, leaving tons of bruises in your body, subjugating you to his will. His moves are harder now, matching your screams.

“Shit”, he curses when sensing his climax.

“Give me your seed”, you beg him, which makes him smirk.

Because for some reason he knows and so do you. That this night is not any night. And just like that he complies to your wishes.

Bathed in salt, your bodies are too tangled in each other to make any distinction. Anakin nuzzles against your neck, kissing you softly as he locks his hand against yours.

You rest against his chest, clinging onto him, never again experiencing this kind of bliss.

“Thank you, love”, you capture his whisper just as you start to fall asleep.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. One is painted with the old shade of blue so familiar to you, whilst the other remains yellow.

“What for, sweetheart?”, you ask him.

As he puts a loose lock behind your ear, you can tell he is thrilled.

“For this. For your forgiveness and your love. For…”

“Shh”, you interrupt him. Turning on your elbows, you smile at him as you wipe away his tears. “I will always love you, Anakin Skywalker. And you will be the father of my children. I’ve always known this. Always. We are a family, remember?”

“Yes”, he whispers softly. “Yes we are.”

That night the two of you fall asleep under the certainty something better awaits in a near future…

***

Epilogue.

Ten years later.

“Daaaaad! Luke got your… Oh, you didn’t tell me we had visitors”, Leia blushes. “Hello there, grandpa Ben!”

Anakin and you have been discussing your new steps as Senator of Coruscant when your daughter steps abruptly in the living room.

“I am too old to remind you it’s uncle Ben”, Obi-Wan chuckles, shaking his head.

“I can see your grey hair though, Master”, you joke back.

“Besides”, Anakin adds cheerfully, “didn’t I tell you that you were the closest thing to a father? But you have to wait for me because it apparently Luke has been up to another mischief.”

You sigh heavily as you pour some tea and surrender to your daughter’s pleas about eating chocolate cookie.

In the meantime, though, Anakin’s eyes go wide when he sees Luke took his younger brother, Ben, to a trip without his knowledge. He would have laughed if he didn’t know how fast Luke likes to pilot.

Y/N often says he got it after me…

Swallowing a laughter, Anakin scowls:

“LUKE AND BEN SKYWALKER! Did you go pilot without asking my permission again?”

The two boys exchange guilty glances. Anakin would be delighted to how cute they are had he not been concerned about parenting—or you’d scold him for that, accused of being too permissive with your sons.

“Leia is such a gossiper!”, Ben complains.

“Don’t say that about your sister. Come now, inside. Tell your mother what you did.”

“But dad!”, Luke pouts. “Why?"

"You know very well why, Luke Skywalker."

As he steps inside and finds Leia following you everywhere you go--and you are pregnant again, so Leia is always talking about having a sister because it's unfair how Luke has a brother to make him company.

"I see the boys get something from their father", Obi-Wan remarks in between chuckles.

You join him in laughters.

"Oh you have no idea how much!"

"But I got after my mother!", Leia protests proudly so.

"Of course you do", says Obi-Wan, watching as you beam and kiss her head. "Well time rushes. I hope to see you both on Monday. There are lots to be done! And kids, behave!"

You lean into Anakin's embrace as you two watch the children saying goodbye from their "grandpa" Ben. It's only then you chuckle and say:

"You think I wouldnt notice that you and your brother were up to no good again, Luke Skywalker? So much like your father."

"And it's time to homework now if I aint mistaken", says Anakin, unable to hold back his laughters before their complaints. "Go on. No candy before it's all done. Love, you can do what you have to do. I'm looking after them tonignt."

You beam as you kiss him in his lips, earning some "eeeew" from the children. But this family is everything you wanted. Everything you and Anakin deserved. And this is only growing...

#star wars imagine #star wars #imagine star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #darth vader smut #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x female reader #alternative universs #luke and leia

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