#every day i curse my younger self for fucking up my hands and focusing on words and not drawing

[antlereed]

laudna in a suit. laudna in ripped jeans and a leather jacket shes been putting spikes on. laudna in a denim jacket she stole from imogen and refuses to give back. laudna in a hoodie that swallows her whole because its so large. laudna in increasingly goofy beanies and hats

[lovrre]

-First love

Jacaerys velaryon x fem black Targaryen

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smut (this is a lil freaky🫦), fluff, unprotected sex, cursing, (very obsessed/ whipped Jacaerys) probably some other stuff…

Summary: Jacaerys velaryon becomes your betrothed and can’t stray too far from your chambers

Author note: this is just cute smut, idk how it got so freaky

"Where have you been?" Rhaenyra questioned sharply as Jacaerys entered the dining hall, his hair tousled. The echoes of your moans lingered in his mind as he pondered  answering the question."I was practicing my swordsmanship," Jacaerys replied with a grin, pulling out his chair to sit at the table.  "You seem to have been very focused on your swordsmanship lately" Rhaenyra prodded. Jacaerys stayed silent, concentrating on his meal. "I have," he eventually replied with a mouthful.

Daemon chuckled quietly to himself drawing Rhaenyra's gaze as she awaited an explanation. "It's his first, he can't stray too far away from her bed" Daemon whispered to Rhaenyra. "It's temporary," he added, sitting back up straight in his chair. Rhaenyra seemed surprised by the revelation, while Jacaerys shot a glare at Daemon from across the table. "Well, isn't it true? Have you not been out fucking?" Daemon defended with a scoff.

"With Your betrothed?" Rhaenyraasked quietly, trying to soothe the tension. " yes," Jacaerys responded in between bites. "Could she not have waited until after the war?" she probed. “It was a mutual decision,” Jacaerys replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"This is no game Jacaerys. Every day your life is in more danger," she warned, her voice growing slightly louder.

"I am aware, which is why I wish to cherish every moment with her. This is no sport to me. She is to be my wife, and I love her!” Jacaerys defended, his voice rising slightly. His words lingered in the air before he continued. “I apologize for raising my voice, but I would roll in my grave with regret for not having more of her," Jacaerys argued, sinking back into his chair. He had never admitted it before, but nothing felt more right than The words “I love her” escaping his lips.

Rhaenyra couldn't help but see a reflection of her younger self in her son, witnessing love reveal a side of him she had never seen before. "I suppose we all deserve our... pleasures,” she sighed “and you are soon to be wed,” she acknowledged. “Just be cautious, Jacaerys," Rhaenyra advised with a faint smile.

“I will.”

~~~~

“I must return home," you declare as Jacaerys plants kisses

 on your neck. Slowly, he pulls down the fabric of your dress, revealing your bare shoulder with a gentle touch. "Why?" he chuckles, planting more kisses along your collarbone. "I am serious, Jacaerys, My brother has called for me" you protest half heartedly. He gazes down at you with desire in his eyes. "I can be swift," he suggests, toying with your shoulder. "Your swift is not swift enough," you reply with a laugh. 

"When will I see you next? Jacaerys inquires, his finger trailing through the ends of your white hair. "A week... perhaps two, possibly never" you jest with a chuckle. He lets out an audible sigh of distress. "I shall not endure it," he laments, burying his head in the curve of your neck. "I am ensnared by you," he murmurs against your shoulder. "I crave your presence always," he lifts his head to whisper in your ear, "beneath me, always," he breathes out, a smile playing on his lips. His words bring a heat through your body only he can extract. “let me pleasure you for one more day,” he asks his large hands gripping your waist, 

 "I've unleashed a beast," you chuckle, turning your head away from his. "you have," he replies, holding your chin in his hand and turning your face back towards him. "And you must feed your beast," Jacaerys groans before the two of you embrace in a kiss. "Your scent," Jacaerys moans, leaning back into the curve of your neck.

"I want you in my room," Jacaerys exhales, kissing along your neck, "so I can breathe you in on my sheets when you're gone." You giggle and kiss him on the top of his head. "I'm serious," Jacaerys insists, looking up at you with his big eyes. "at Dragonstone?” you questioned “I would love to but your family-" Jacaerys silences you with a kiss. "Say yes."

"Yes," you comply with a smile earning you another passionate kiss, You had become mush in his hands.

~~~

“Animals belong in the wild," your father declares as he walks up behind you, holding a sword at his side. You are seated on the bench with your bunny nestled in your lap. "She is outside," you retort. "Outside, As in the grass and dirt," your father chuckles. You roll your eyes as your Dad plants a kiss on your head. "Do not stay outside too long," he warns before heading indoors.

Your brother Vincent approaches with Prince Jacaerys, causing you to stand up in surprise. You had never seen him in person, and he was younger than you expected, more handsome too.

"Allow me to introduce Y/n Callaeris, my sister," your brother introduces, gesturing towards you. The first thing Jacaerys notices about you is your white hair, a familiar mark of a Targaryen. But never in his life had he seen white hair contrast with someone's skin so perfectly before you. There was an essence about you that captivated him, like a moth to a flame.

“This is-”

“-The prince,” you finish, with a wide smile cutting your brother off. Supplying a small courtesy, “did you ride your dragon here?” You ask absentmindedly, adjusting your bunny in your arms, looking behind him slightly hoping to catch a glimpse of one. “Yes, I did,” Jacaerys replies with an amused smile. “Is it a big one?” you question with childlike excitement. Right when he’s about to answer, your brother cuts in.  "Excuse my sister, she's... unique," Vincent chuckles, stepping in front of you.

"Where is Father?" he questions, his tone serious. "He's inside with Mother," you reply, stroking the top of your bunny's head. "Go fetch him and inform him that the prince has arrived to see him," he instructs, pausing briefly before adding, "This is important, so act accordingly," your brother says firmly.

You roll your eyes and attempt to pass the bunny to him. Vincent's face twists in disgust as he eyes the bunny in your arms. "I am not holding that thing," he declares. 

"Father does not like seeing them out of the cage," you argue. "That is not my problem," Vincent retorts. "If it were you, I would hold the bunny," you counter. "But it is not me, so-"

"I can hold the bunny," Jacaerys interrupts, causing both you and Vincent to turn towards him. Vincent is speechless, and you can't help but smile. "Thank you, Prince Jacaerys," you say, placing the small bunny in his arms. Quickly turning to glare at your brother. "Jacaerys is fine," he replies with a light voice his eyes filled with a warmth you had never seen in a man before. Your heart quickens in your chest. You offer a small curtsy and a smile before taking your leave.

"You do not have to hold that thing," Vincent scoffs once you're inside. "I am fine, frankly I am quite fond of small animals," Jacaerys says, looking down at the bunny with tenderness. Vincent has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “you and my sister should get along nicely,” he says with a forced smile 

~~~

You’re in the stable hours later brushing your horse when you notice Jacaerys in your peripheral. his gaze is fixed on you until you move to courtesy breaking his trance. "Forgive me," Jacaerys says sheepishly, "I've brought you, your bunny," he adds, nodding towards the sleeping bunny in his arms. "She seems to have taken a liking to you," you observe, surprised, as you admire the peacefully slumbering bunny.

"I believe I have taken a liking to her as well," he responds in a melodic tone, eliciting a giggle from you. Holding the small animal, he looked almost paternal, like a father cradling his babe. He seemed like a man destined for fatherhood.

"It's a shame you're a prince, you'd make a fine farmer," you jest, causing Jacaerys to chuckle softly, careful not to disturb the sleeping bunny. "A farmer?" he questions, taken aback. "You have a way with animals," you remark, leaning against the stable. "I did well with a bunny," Jacaerys admits. "A rather finicky bunny," you tease with a smile. The air between you two felt heavy, you felt unsure whether to flee or savor the moment. “Do you particularly enjoy animals?” Jacaerys asks breaking the tension. ”my father would say more than most” you chuckle. “But yes, I am very fond of animals” you continue. He nods im response. “I can put her in the cage," you offer recalling the bunny in his arms

Jacaerys nods carefully handing her over to you. "Did you hold her while conversing with my father?" you inquire with a smile. "No, your mother took her, but I felt compelled to return her to her rightful owner," Jacaerys replies, looking down at you intently. "I appreciate that," you say, smiling shyly as you look down at your feet, his gazing causing your heart to beat Rapidly in your chest.

"How did the discussion with my father fare?" you question as you walk towards your bunnies' cage needing the distance. "It went smoothly," Jacaerys responds with a smile, trailing behind you, like a dog on an invisible leash. "I am glad to hear that," you respond bending down to place your bunny in the cage with your other two. "He agreed to my proposal of 700 men and to support my mother's claim as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

"That is well," you remark with a smile as you place your bunny inside the cage. "He has also consented..." he pauses, kicking dirt under his feet, "to allow me to wed his eldest daughter, provided she agrees of course." His words cause you to freeze in place. You let out a quiet sigh as you close the cage gate. Standing up slowly, you face Jacaerys, but your expression lacks the same joy as his. Jacaerys hurries to rectify the situation. "I apologize if I misunderstood, I-" he begins, but you interrupt him. "-No, you did not," you interject, shaking your head.

“I am a bastard," you confess solemnly. "None in my family carry the Targaryen name, but my hair..." you pause, running your fingers through the silver strands. "Speaks for itself." Jacaerys remains silent, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for you to speak further. "They believe I am unaware, that I am not-" you stop, inhaling deeply "I cannot wed you in good consciousness knowing this." You admit,” It is sacrilegious, and unhonest” you state. The look on Jacaery's face is enough to break your heart in two alone. 

“Understand that it is no fault of you're own” you rush out. “I am, just indecent” you confess with a sad smile, your head falling slightly.

“indecent?”Jacaerys scoffs walking closer, bridging the distance between you. He gently takes your hand, and you find yourself melting at his touch.

"Do you desire marriage?" Jacaerys questions, his thumb tracing over your palm as he tilts his head slightly to study your face. questioning was genuine, Jacaerys would respect your response regardless of his feelings.

The warmth of his touch spreads through you leaving you at a loss for words."If you do, Desire Marriage, I vow to construct a stable solely for you, and your creatures.” he says catching a glimpse of a smile on your face. “Your bunnies and horses, sheep, pigs, cats, whichever you desire!" he teases, his playful tone eliciting a laugh from you. 

It was in that moment he settled never to witness you in sorrow. It was the bond between you, a connection that made you feel so familiar, so at ease with him from the beginning. "Wed me," he declares, looking down at you with eyes brimming with nothing but affection.

~~~~

  "It's here," Jacaerys murmured, pressing against the stone wall. In an instant, the wall shifted, unveiling the interior of his chamber. Jacaerys strolled through, offering his hand to guide you. Once inside, Jacaerys pushed the wall back into position. As you explored his spacious room, admiring the decor. "How many maidens have you led through that passage?" you teased, a touch of seriousness in your tone, eyeing the wall you had just traversed.

"Only my wife," Jacaerys responded from behind you. "You know that," he added, his voice a soft hum against your neck. There was a moment of silence as you surveyed the grand room, "Where will my bunnies reside?" you quipped, eliciting a hearty laugh from Jacaerys. "In the stable, I promised to construct for my wife," he hummed, planting a kiss on the outer shell of your ear.

"Soon to be wife," you corrected.

"No," he disagreed, his warm breath caressing your neck. You felt his member poking you from behind. "We've already consummated our marriage," Jacaerys said, unraveling the laces of your dress with one hand and exploring your body with the other. "Several times," he chuckled to himself. 

"You have to be married to consummate a marriage," you countered with a laugh, turning your head to meet his lips. 

"I married you the moment I laid eyes on you," he mumbled against your mouth before turning your body around so you were to face him. 

You laughed at Jacaerys' absurdity, a common occurrence when you two were in bed. Without you realizing it, he had loosened all the laces, leaving your top half bare with the dress hanging below like a skirt. 

"it is sinful how much I need you," Jacaerys said, dropping to his knees before you. Planting kisses along your stomach. "The future mother of my children," he continued, showering you stomach with affection. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, but his touch sent shivers down your spine. With a firm tug, he removed your dress completely, leaving you exposed to him. He gazed at you intently, taking a deep breath before resting his chin on your stomach. "I love you," he confessed with a whisper, looking up at you with adoration, his hands gripping your torso. 

His declaration sent a surge of electricity through your body, momentarily weakening your limbs. Jacaerys held you steady with a smile. "I love you too," you managed to reply before he swiftly carried you to his bed. Gently placing you on a mound of pillows, causing you to giggle. "Say it again," Jacaerys demanded, hovering over you as if ready to pounce. "That I love you?" you teased, eliciting a wide grin from him. "Yes," he nodded, eagerly awaiting your response.

"I am deeply in love with Prince Jacaerys," you whispered seductively in his ear, sitting up with your arms behind you. Jacaerys seized your lips in a fervent kiss, removing his tunic before pushing you back onto the bed, quickly throwing off his pants.  “I’d like to show you my love,” he hummed slowly, kissing down your torso before pausing at your pelvis. “What are you doing?” You giggled, kicking at his chest with your feet. “I have been reading,” Jacaerys hummed, parting your knee. “On how to please a woman,” he continued, gazing down at your bare cunt. “You please me fine,” you smiled shyly, slipping your hand into his hair.

“Only fine?” Jacaerys taunted, trailing a finger down your leg, causing you to laugh and instinctively close your legs. “Keep them open” Jacaerys requested with a smirk. “Do you trust me?” Jacaerys asked his finger sliding through your folds. You arch your back in response making him smile. “Do you?” He teases collecting your juices on his finger. you nod feverishly. Jacaerys eagerly positioned himself between your legs, holding one back with his hand. 

He began with gentle kitten licks on your clit, causing you to release soft moans. Your reactions spurred Jacaerys on, as he fervently licked over your clit with a heavy tongue, causing your breath to catch in your chest St the new sensation. He then buried himself beneath you. You moaned loudly, clawing at the bed as Jacaerys alternated between sucking hard on your clit and licking along your lips. In the throes of pleasure, you pushed Jacaerys' head against you, grinding yourself on his mouth. He hummed against your cunt, prompting you to release a loud moan that echoed off the chamber walls,

You had become a wailing mess above him, riding his face with abandon. Suddenly, Jacaerys seized control, pushing your legs back forcefully and holding them in place with his strength. He devoured your sex like a man possessed as if his very life depended on your pleasure. In a haze of lust, you found yourself screaming his name in Ecstasy. Even after you climaxed, he didn't stop. "Stay still," Jacaerys groaned, as you writhed beneath him. Eventually, overwhelmed by the intensity, you physically pushed him away. rising from the space between your legs in a daze. He moved back on top of you, the gleam of your desire evident on his face, his hair tousled and clinging to his cheeks.

“Did you enjoy it” Jacaerys inquired, gazing down at you with a playful grin.  “I did” he continues with a smile wiping his face with the back of his hand. Unable to respond verbally due to the intensity of your climax, you nod reaching up to embrace him before planting a kiss on his lips.  "Allow me to do it again?" he begged nuzzling into the curve of your neck. “I did not remember to use my fingers” he groaned. “you faired well without them” you reply breathlessly underneath him. 

"However..." you trailed off, your finger tracing down his bicep. "I still desire all of my husband," you murmured with a smirk. He lifted his head, a grin spreading across his face at the mention of the word husband. "That can be arranged," he said with a chuckle before leaning in to kiss you. With his weight pressing down on you, you could feel his full length against you, and your core yearned to be connected with him once more. Just as you thought he would enter you, Jacaerys slid his member over your lips, teasing your clit.

"inside me," you moan, writhing beneath him. "Patience," Jacaerys huffs, holding your leg in place. "I want to savor the feeling of you," he groans, moving back and forth between your lips, the sensation causing him to shudder. "For when you're not with me,"   he adds, finally entering you. A mutual moan escapes both of you upon contact, Jacaerys allowing you a moment to adjust before withdrawing and thrusting back in. Starting at a painfully slow pace, he then adjusts slightly, using his arm to forcefully bring you down onto him, supporting himself with his free one. You throw your head back in ecstasy, emitting a loud moan as you move your hips against his repeatedly.

Suddenly, Jacaerys' thrusts begin to decelerate, prompting you to open your eyes and assess the situation. "I-" Jacaerys struggles to speak, his eyes rolling back. "-I won't last," he manages to say, still slowly moving inside you. "It's alright," you murmur, pushing yourself onto him faster, your neediness only arousing him further. Jacaerys repositions you again so he's lying back on the bed with you straddling him.

Still, within you, you eagerly move against his manhood “Still” Jacaerys groaned, gripping your waist firmly while pushing himself deeper inside you. His thumb on your clit moved in circular motions. "Does this please you?" he inquired as you ground yourself against him. You nodded enthusiastically, increasing your pace as you began to ride him fully. Jacaerys maintained his thumb on your clit and his hand on your waist as he thrust into you. With the sensation of his thumb circling your clit and his size inside you, you felt your climax approaching rapidly, knowing Jacaerys was close as well. You rode him with determination as if your very life depended on it. Jacaerys seemed to want to speak, but words eluded him. He threw his head back in ecstasy, and you followed suit, the fur blankets beneath you shifting as you both reached the peak of pleasure

~~~~

The two of you lay in bed, fingers intertwined, savoring the spark that passed between you. "I must depart come morning," you murmur, gazing down at your joined hands. "I am not prepared to be without you," Jacaerys replies, kissing your intertwined fingers. "The gods know I would remain if I could," you say, rolling onto your stomach. "But my brother awaits to take me home, and since he keeps our... affairs a secret," you pause, playfully flicking Jacaerys' lip with your finger, "it would not be wise to go against him.” you Add .

"I do not know what my father would do if he found out he’d-" you start to say, but Jacaerys interrupts, pulling you closer. "He will not discover us" he reassures, kissing you deeply. "You are truly insatiable," you laugh pulling away.ll "I will miss you more than you know," Jacaerys confesses. "I believe I know," you reply with a smile. Jacaerys shakes his head. "It's different, you carry my child with you..”

Jacaerys!" You cry out, "I do not desire for us to bring forth a child outside of marriage," you declare, striking his chest. "That is sacrilegious," you state firmly. "I am sacrilegious, a bastard," Jacaerys  reminds you, his words teasing your neck. "Do you still long for me?" He questions with a chuckle kissing your neck. "You carry my child, I am certain of it," he says with a playful smile. Despite your attempts to resist, you find yourself drawn to the idea of bearing his children. However, a sense of dread washes over you as you realize how entirely possible that you may have conceived a child together. "My future heir," Jacaerys murmurs, placing his hand on your stomach.

"I hope some of our children inherit your hair," Jacaerys absentmindedly remarks, running his fingers through your silver curls. Lost in thought, you ponder what your family would think. "What should I tell them?" You inquire. "For now, nothing. But if necessary, we shall announce our marriage once the war is concluded, as your father wished," Jacaerys says, caressing your cheek. "Or we could wed in secret, and you could reside with me at Dragonstone," he jests, eliciting a chuckle from you.

"After the war?" You question, gazing up at him. "After the war," Jacaerys confirms, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

[megumisbimbo]

Distraction*

fushiguro megumi x fairy!reader/fem!reader

this is my entry for @izukine’s fairytales and mythical creatures collab - hope you enjoy it liyah <3

This is nsfw work - minors pls do not interact

warnings: aphrodisiac(?), unprotected sex, slight oral (fem receiving), deception(?)

taglist: @erispancakes @innrsoul @ohno-otome @kirsteiiins @nkogneatho @puptarou @fiaficsxo @arumiee @mitsuluv @rintarouss @dukina @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein

Megumi’s mind was racing. Exams were coming up and he was having a hard time focusing. He had tried everything. From classical music to meditation, nothing was helping him focus. This was his third and final year, he could not fail, no matter what. Megumi helplessly stared out his dorm window, the sunlight bouncing off the pavement and straining his eyes. A walk might do him some good, he thought to himself. He rolled out of his bed and slipped his shoes on, half eager to get some much needed vitamin d.

There was a small park near Jujutsu Tech that Gojo frequently took him to when he was younger. Days of fighting horrible curses and now losing the only person he could call his best friend, Megumi was truly in need of some time to himself.

He found the biggest tree with the most shade and sat underneath it. The feeling of the cool grass underneath his fingertips and the soft breeze blowing past alleviated the pain that spread throughout his body like a disease. He closes his eyes and soaks in the feeling, relishing in the peace if only for moment.

Megumi doesn’t know what time he fell asleep, but he arises with a heavy weight across his chest. He looks down and sees a small figure no bigger than Nishimiya curled up against him. He couldn’t quite understand what it was, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He didn’t dare move, afraid of waking you. It proved to be useless when you lifted your hand to rub your eyes.

“Um…who..are you?”

“Oh I’m sorry you just looked so comfortable…and I-I’m sorry I’ll go.”

You knew your intentions, and they were definitely not innocent. You were a fairy, of course, and not the ones told in cute stories for children. No you were much more…treacherous. You happened to stumble across exactly what you were looking for. A young boy with blood red as roses and as delicious as spring cherries.

“Wait-..don’t go…it’s ok. I didn’t mean to wake you. What’s your name?” Megumi asked, against his better judgement.

Megumi was known for having a strong mind, one must in order to be a jujutsu sorcerer. But something about you emanated pure beauty and comfort. He was under your most dangerous spell. Pseudo-love. The artificial feeling overcame Megumi and blocked all the self-control and discipline he had developed through his years of training.

“Y/n. Y/n is my name. And yours?”

“Megumi.”

“Megumi…it’s beautiful..” You say, a saccharine smile adorning your face.

If Megumi hadn’t fallen for you before, hearing the way his name rolled off your tongue had him practically at your feet. You had him exactly where you wanted him.

“I..I don’t have anywhere to go Megumi…would you mind if I stayed with you for a night or two. Only if it’s ok of course-“

“Yes.”

“Really?! Oh thank you so much Megumi!”

Megumi didn’t mean to say yes, especially not so quickly. He barely knew you. But the way your doe eyes twinkle and the way your small fingers latch onto the hem of his sweater, he doesn’t think he’ll regret saying yes.

Megumi’s mind was racing. What is he thinking? Bringing a girl he doesn’t know beyond her first name into his room. Into jujutsu tech! He knows how irresponsible this is. How he’d be reprimanded, maybe even suspended, for letting a stranger into the concealed school.

“Megumi…is everything ok?”

“Hm? Oh..yeah everything’s fine. I just- never mind it’s nothing.” He answers, brushing you off and turning to face his window once again.

You walk towards him, your hands landing on his back running them up and down slowly. The feeling of your soft hands pushes Megumi closer to the edge. He doesn’t know how much more he could take. Your aura absolutely intoxicating. You run your hands under his arms pressing your palms against his chest and your cheek against his back.

“Is there anything…I can do…Megumi?”

You can hear his rapid heartbeat and feel the accelerated rise and fall of his chest. Your hands run down his chest, finding purchase underneath his sweater. Your cold fingertips delicately examine each and every muscle he’s cultivated over years of training. Your lips are quick to press against the nape of his neck.

“Can you take this off for me?” You ask gingerly.

Megumi hastily slips his sweater over his head as he turns to face you. He dips his head down to place a chaste kiss on your lips, his sweater and common sense long forgotten. Your lips sweeter than honey and more addictive than any drug. Your power engulfs his senses, the natural aphrodisiac emitted from your body surrounding the young sorcerer. Megumi was long gone, he was all yours.

“Can you take these off for me Megumi?” You ask, your fingers fiddling with the strings of his black sweatpants. Megumi is quick to follow your directions, stripping down to his boxers. You were still clothed in your short lace dress. You turn your back towards him and fiddle with the buttons that held your dress tight against you. Megumi understood your action and unbuttoned them for you. His fingers latch onto the neckline of your dress slowly dragging it downwards as he peppers your neck with kisses. He trails his kisses down your back following his fingers. You relax into his touch, the feeling of his nimble hands gliding across your body sending shockwaves through you.

It was always blissful, the feeling of your body being worshipped by mindless young boys right before you sink your teeth into them. Megumi’s hands grip your waist pulling you flush against his chest. One hand trails upward cupping your breast and massaging it softly.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, his voice deep and laced with desire.

“Please Megumi…I want you.”

“You have me.”

He’s quick to discard of your dress, his fingers now slipping past the waistband of your panties dipping into your sopping core.

“Oh fuck Megumi…just like that.” You moan out, his fingers pressing tight circles against your pussy. You grip onto his wrist, guiding his hand towards your entrance.

“Need it here Megumi..”

Megumi pulls his fingers out of you, eliciting a small whine. He leads you towards the bed, his arm cradling your back setting you down softly. He leans down to lick a stripe up your cunt before latching his teeth onto the fabric pulling it down to your ankles. You haven’t felt this good in a while, Megumi’s teeth leaving wine red blemishes across your skin.

He pulls his black boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. The tip was flushed red, beads of precum slipping down. It was a sight to behold.

“Are you ready?”

“Please…”

Megumi presses the tip of his cock into your entrance, your moans filling his ears and clouding his senses. He pushes in and out slowly, his lips attaching to yours to distract you from the stretch. You notice his attentiveness, his careful touches and his soft praise. You couldn’t lie…in all the years you’ve had young men wrapped around your finger, this was the first time you had ever felt..so loved.

“Mmm-Megumi…’m coming!” You moan, your breathe catching in your throat slightly.

“Fuck- cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

“Hnggg-“

One final stroke sends you both over the edge, Megumi’s lips pressing softly against your ear leaving candied kisses in between whispers of praise.

It’s working, you think to yourself…but suddenly you feel a shift in your energy. An unknown force clashing with yours. Thick black shadow surrounds you filling your lungs. You look up at the sorcerer and notice that he was indeed the source of the shadow.

“Megumi? What is this?” You ask, slightly concerned that you no longer had the upper hand.

“Have you finally noticed pretty?” He says staring into your now fear filled eyes.

“This is my domain.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Well isn’t it obvious? I wanted to give you a show before you suck me dry. I know what you are, fairy. There’s no need to keep up the charade.”

He knows? How? When did he notice?

Megumi was known to have a strong mind, and for good reason. He knew what you were the moment you slipped your hands underneath his sweater. The cursed energy emitted from your body similar to one explained by Gojo and the fairy he had exorcised a while back. But he couldn’t let his guard down, not while the odds were in your favor. So he summoned his domain, knowing he would immediately have the upper hand.

“There’s nowhere for you to run now pretty…just let me exorcise you. I’ll be gentle I promise.” He says, a cheshire smile replacing the helpless expression he adorned earlier.

“Please! Megumi please give me a chance to explain myself!!”

“What is there to explain? If I don’t destroy you now, who knows what innocent boy will be your next victim.”

“Please! I’ll do anything!!”

“Anything? Choose your words wisely curse, your life depends on it.”

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© megumisbimbo 2021

[youryanderedaddy]

Imagine a yandere ghost who is cursed is trapped in the doll, so one day a family came to live in his house, but what the ghost did not expect is to fall in love with the couple's eldest daughter. Maybe this yandere ghost (doll) use the younger brother to get closer to his beloved...

I didn't really include the doll, but the overall idea is here ;)

Tw: nsfw, non - con, underage sex? (The reader is meant to be around 18, her brother is 16 - 17, but the ghost is 100+ so idk), (technically) incest, ghosts, possession, possessive/obsessive behavior, slight parental neglect ig

You knew it was a mistake moving into the old house up the hill. You tried arguing with your parents so many times about the mansion being hidden in the woods, so far away from any civilization, bringing up the fact it hadn't been bought for the last 8 years despite the insanely low price or the news about the previous owners dying in their sleep just like that, from "natural causes" even though they were an young energetic couple. But of course your worries had been discarded so easily since your younger siblings were ecstatic, constantly talking about finally living in a castle, which was obviously pushing it too far, but kids will be kids.

Your family was big, consisting of your mother, father, two younger sisters and a brother currently in his late teens. Your siblings managed to take all the nice bright rooms on the second floor so you were forced to sleep in the attic. At first it didn't seem so bad, yes, the place was dark and dusty, the space was limited, but it was a quiet spot and there were many interesting things left there to explore and discover.

The first week you discovered a huge box full of old books, medals, notebooks and different souvenirs from all over the world. The second week you found a few paintings covered by a thin disheveled cloak, most of them depicting a pretty young boy with golden locks and sad green eyes, dresses in an expensive silky clothing resembling what was nowadays considered an elegant suit. You didn't pay it much mind yet the miserable longing gaze of the kid haunted your dreams in the following days.

During the third week you noticed that things were going missing one by one. First it was your favorite lipstick, then your new dress, and suddenly your favorite items were gone just like that. On top of all, almost as if fate was tickling your paranoia, you could hear certain sounds at night that were too distorted be natural and too human to belong to an animal. There were sobs, loud and tormented, sometimes you could make up a few words in a language no one spoke anymore. You slept less and less each night, you could swear you felt someone's lingering touch on your shoulders, them gently stroking your hair and even pressing their cold unmoving lips on yours. This was usually the point when you opened your eyes and screamed in fear only to realize you were alone in the room. There was nobody there.

Still you decided to speak with your parents about the creepy events taking place in the attic. Much to your dismay they brushed your concerns off once again, laughing softly and calling you a scaredy - cat, going as far as to joke around about your "oh so creative" imagination getting the best of you just like it did in your childhood. But this time you insisted on holding your ground, almost begging them to take action and help you. At the end your mother decided to let you sleep in your brother's room for a while until you calm down, and as embarrassing it was to share a room with a hormonal teen, it was better than constantly being on the edge and losing sleep. Or so you thought.

The first night you slept in Steve's room nothing out of the ordinary happened and for the first time in weeks you actually managed to rest. The second night was blissfully peaceful as well and you quickly fell into a deep dreamless slumber.

The third night started well, just like the previous two. Your brother was tired from studying all day and went to bed early, giving you the freedom to relax a little bit before following his example. You could read a book or try to revise for your exam tomorrow, maybe even call your bestfriend and finally let her know all about your new classmates and just how boring life in the village was. But in that moment all these suggestion sounded annoying, nothing was interesting enough to hold your interest for more than a minute. Thinking about what to do next, you suddenly became aware that your body was tense and tired, but your mind was restless. After all you hadn't had time for self - care between the paranoia episodes and the fear, maybe it was finally time to do something nice and therapeutic for yourself.

You snatched a quick look at Steve and he was sleeping soundly, snoring from time to time, his usually angry face now calm and childlike. Making sure there was no one in the room awake, you finally slipped a hand down your pajama bottom until you felt the soft fabric of your panties. You closed your eyes and run a finger up and down your clothed sex, following the line of your slit. Your pussy throbbed at the sudden contact, the lack of pleasure in the last few weeks making it sensitive to the touch. You pushed your underwear lower so it hanged around your legs, and shoved one finger into your warm hole, enjoy the way your walls clenched around the digit. You flicked your clit gently, feeling it swell from the arousal, rubbing slow circles and pressing on your sweet spot every once in a while.

Your free hand went to your breasts, bare under the comfy oversized shirt, and awoke the cherry nipples with subtle pinches causing them to harden. You couldn't help but moan quietly as you decreased the pace of which you teased your hole and added a second finger in your pussy, fucking yourself on it. You were so focused on chasing your pleasure you didn't even notice the hand on your thigh pulling your own away from your excited throbbing core and replacing it with a big hard cock. Only once its head reached your tight entrance and pressed on it did your mind register the atrocious size difference. Your words stilled in your throat, the sudden panic rising in your chest, making your vision blurry and your cheeks rosy pink. You finally opened your eyes, your heart racing at the image of your younger brother towering above you with his member so close to entering your heat.

"Steve, what are you doing?" You whispered as you tried to squirm away from the boy, but he was quicker in pinning your wrists above your head in a deadlock. When did the male become so strong? Just yesterday he would ask you to open up his water bottle and help him with his math homework and now he was doing this...

"My name is Henry, my love." The voice was different from your brother's, lower and huskier, gentler in a way. You narrowed your eyes and observed the teenager's face, gasping as you noticed that his eyes had changed from black to green, yet all his other features had stayed stayed the same. You wanted to ask so many questions - who is Henry, why were your sibling's eyes and voice different from before - but you were quickly shut by one stern gaze. "I used to live here 80 years ago." The stranger started off with an unexpectedly soft tone as his grip on your wrists loosened. "I'm a ghost. I possessed your brother." He confessed calmly while you watched his pink lips part slightly with each breath as if you were in a trance before you found the strength to break your silence.

"Why are doing this to me? Why did you take my brother's body?" You questioned him manically, feeling like a confused little lamb sent to the slaughter, trembling and stuttering in front of a knife. Henry simply chuckled at your adorable dumbfounded expression and lowered his torso until his face was mere inches away from yours and you could feel his ice - cold breath on your warm red cheek. "Because I love you, darling." The ghost replied with a confident smirk that looked so weird and unnatural on the younger boy's face you almost gagged. Before you had the chance to say anything, he continued. "I've been wanting you for a while now, little girl. And with this body I can finally have you all to myself." You opened your mouth in a protest but your screams were easily muffled by a harsh kiss and a wet tongue down your throat. Next thing you knew the man had pushed your brother's manhood into your wet sloppy cunt in one sharp thurst and in your despair you had yelled for help once again, the ghost taking your whimpers greedily and shushing them away. Struggling was pointless.

In the next hour you were reduced to a sweaty whimpering mess of pain and arousal, fear and pleasure. The ghost was fucking you in a fast brutal pace while his free hand was playing with your clit, bringing you so damn close but never enough to send you over the edge. You were crying and your whole body was aching, your tits red from the rough manhandlind, your lips bruised and swollen from the rough kisses and bites. There were purple hickeys adorning your neck, belly and thighs and you went quiet in embarrassment every time you wondered how you would be able to hide them the next day.

"Please, whoever you are, let me come, I'm begging you." You pleaded desperately as you arched your back to meet the next couple of deep thrusts. Your cheeks were wet with tears and you could even taste the bitter salty flavor in your mouth mixed with your own drool and saliva. Upon hearing your meek pleas the man mercifully started hitting your cervix with each shove until his moves became sharp and quick, targeting your g-spot. You were so close you could feel your abdomen clench and tighten from the tingling sensitations. "Please..." You uttered weakly again, making doe eyes at your brother.

"Say you love me. Tie your soul to mine forever and I'll give you exactly what you want, beloved." Henry basically growled in your ear as he groped your breasts, squizing lightly the soft flesh. Your mind was so hazy and clouded you weren't sure how to respond so you just repeated the words easiest to grasp. "Love... you... forever, ngggh..." You muttered under your breath before moaning wantonly when the forceful thrusts finally sent you over the edge and your pussy clamped down in a big, satisfying orgasm. Your bliss was short - lived because soon the ghost was pounding into you again and again, keeping you too tired to move, struggle or even speak properly besides whimpering every once in a while. The rest of the night was a blur but eventually you fell asleep from the exhausting and the pleasure.

You woke up sore, your eyes red and puffy, your muscles tense and unnatentive. You rushed to look at your brother, but the teenager was sleeping just as peacefully as he did eight hours ago. One side of you was more than glad to know everything that had happened was simply a bad, terrible dream, while the other one still felt extremely uncomfortable and uneasy. You couldn't bear staying in the room any longer so you got dressed and went into the hall. Everyone else was still asleep and you felt as restless as if you hadn't caught a blink at all. You finally gave in to your paranoia and climbed the stars leading to the third floor.

You knelt on the ground where you had found the beautiful paintings. Those green eyes from your dream seemed way too familiar for it to be a coincidence. When you finally got a hold of your favorite piece, the one with the sad young boy, you had to cover your mouth to suppress the shock. There wasn't an aristocrat with golden locks on the picture anymore.

Now the one trapped in the painting was none other than you own brother, Steve. Instead of misery and pain in mysterious blue eyes, there was only terror in his tormented black ones. You screamed for the last time before you dropped the picture on the ground and ran away from the attic, the tears streaming down your face, but unfortunately, there was no escape from the restless dead souls.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

What You're Looking For (myg)

Summary: Yoongi's definitely falling in love with you, but he's hesitant to tell you because as an idol, he can't give you what you're looking for.

Warnings: public sex, some possessive behavior, vaginal fingering, little bit of degradation

Word Count: 3633

A/n: A Yoongi commission, hope you enjoy!

Being an idol isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sure, the money is nice, he doesn’t have to worry about bus fare or how he’s going to eat each week. He can write songs anytime he wants to, has use of all this impressive equipment that his pre-debut self would have lost his mind over. The fame, on the other hand, is something that Yoongi struggles with.

He can’t exactly leave his apartment and go to the store for ramen and beer anymore. He can’t exactly walk to the bus station and go down to the park, feed the birds like he used to. He also can’t take anyone out on a date, which pre-debut Yoongi would have never dreamed of doing, anyway.

But now he’s on the wrong side of his 20’s and actually dating is something he wants to do and can’t, not just because of his fame but also because of contracts. It isn’t as if their manager had sat them down and said absolutely no dating, but it’s certainly implied. Their schedules are tight enough that there’s only a few hours of free time per week, and that’s not on accident, Yoongi knows.

Pre-debut Yoongi had been so focused on music, so focused on making it that now, once he’s made it, he longs for something more simple. Writing lyrics on bar napkins while chatting up a girl, for one. Taking someone out on a dinner date to that diner he likes by his apartment. He imagines that he might take her hand while they walk there, swing it back and forth, make her smile.

He does, in fact, meet you while he’s scribbling song lyrics on a bar napkin, but instead of taking you out on a date, he has to sneak you back to his apartment in a black car, pulling his cap over his face. You know who he is, he knows that much by the blush on your cheeks, but you keep insisting you don’t know much about kpop and he believes you.

Yoongi blames the soju for how he kisses you in the elevator, aggressively, backing you up against the door, but you lean into him, make this little sound into his mouth and the next thing he knows he’s waking up with your bare arm across his waist and he’s panicking because he’s got practice in less than an hour.

“Fuck,” he curses softly when he extricates himself, because you look so pretty and peaceful and he’s got to wake you up and usher you out like some kind of dirty little secret and it makes his heart clench in his chest.

He calls your name, softly, and when you stretch he can see that tattoo on your stomach, the one he'd traced with his fingers last night, and then his tongue.

Yoongi knows he's blushing, can feel the heat in his face, so he turns his face away.

"Um," he starts, and then he hears the sheets shuffle.

"Oh! Sorry, I should go." Your voice sounds husky from sleep and Yoongi almost reaches out to grab your wrist as you pick up your dress from the floor.

He doesn't, and you go with an awkward peck on his cheekbone that he swears he can feel on his skin for days.

Things go on like that, for the weeks he's on break and after, through texts and Facetime calls, for months. It's always rushed and sexy and he always has to go before he wants to, and he hates it.

He finds that the girl he'd thought about taking on dates and holding hands with seems to now have your face, after a while. All his fantasies, sexual and otherwise, start to involve your smile.

Pre-debut Yoongi only fantasized about music, about standing on a stage belting out his truths, cutting pieces of himself to bleed onto paper so that someone would see him, finally, so that someone would know him.

Pre-debut Yoongi would have scoffed at him for wanting only one person to know him, one person to see him.

Pre-debut Yoongi would have called him an idiot, for falling in love.

You never imagined yourself in a situationship with an internationally famous rapper, despite the fact that you weren't overly familiar with his work when you'd met.

You certainly can't call it dating, since it culminates in having a few drinks and hooking up at his apartment or, during one particularly hazy night, in the backseat of a hired Escalade.

He's often out of the country, and on occasion he'll call you in the middle of the day, which is the middle of the night for him, ask you how you are, and eventually, what you're wearing.

You're trying not to look too far into it, not read into how soft his voice sounds when you Facetime and he tells you how beautiful you look, not think there might be something more in the way he wraps you in his arms after sex, plants soft kisses on the back of your neck.

It's fun, it's casual, and there's no reason to need more.

There are other guys that you've had similar situations with, and this is no different.

Maybe it's Yoongi's face that floats in front of your eyes when you're just about to fall asleep, but he doesn't have to know that.

You find yourself stopping yourself from texting him first, and you tell yourself it’s because he’s so busy but you know it’s because you feel too much.

You know his schedule, he emails it to you once a month, and while that seems like a good sign it isn’t as if after months of hooking up, you’ve ever had a conversation about where your relationship stands.

So, one Friday night, you know he’s in town and you know he’s free and when he doesn’t text or call, it feels like bees are buzzing under your skin.

Instead of staring at your phone in an effort to will it to ring, you call a friend and plan a girl’s night out. That’s what you need, anyway, a night where you can drink with your friends and flirt with men you’ll never see again.

You don’t need Yoongi’s low mumble in your ear, making you feel like you’re the only woman in the world.

Yoongi tells himself he doesn’t spend every moment of his free time with you, but he definitely does spend the majority of it at least thinking about you. The way your skin feels under his hands, the slow tilt of your crooked smile. The way sometimes you snort when you laugh too hard and you’re not even ashamed about it.

He babbles all of this out to Jimin and the younger just raises an eyebrow at him.

“Hyung, you have a girlfriend?”

Yoongi feels his face flushing. “N-no. She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Hm. Okay, hyung.” Jimin says dryly, and Yoongi shoves him playfully with the heel of his hand.

“You going out tonight?” Yoongi asks, suddenly, and immediately regrets it when Jimin’s eyes light up.

“Are you gonna come with me this time?” Jimin bounces on the couch excitedly and Yoongi groans.

So that’s how, between the need to stop sitting at home and daydreaming about you and Yoongi’s inability to say no to Park Jimin’s pout, Yoongi ends up at a club.

A loud club. A crowded club.

He orders a whiskey at the bar, people shouldering up against him to order as well and God why did he do this, anyway?

Jimin disappears somewhere within half an hour and he’s stuck looking around the bar for him awkwardly.

Yoongi recognizes you by the line of your jaw, and it’s a rush, the pleasure that shoots through him, the butterflies in his stomach, better than the glass of whiskey he’s been sipping.

You don’t see him, and he wonders if he should go up behind you, plant a kiss on your shoulder, but in the end he doesn’t wade through the sea of people, just watches you sway to the beat, talking and laughing with your friends. It’s interesting, seeing you out and about like this, somewhere he doesn’t have to hide you, and longing spears through him because as much as he hates clubs, he’d like to take you to one, see the way your body moves to the music, how your eyes light up when you laugh.

As he’s watching, entranced, a man puts his hand on your hip, stands from the bar, and Yoongi’s hands grasp the bar hard enough to whiten his knuckles. He’d never considered himself a jealous person, had never been so in past relationships, but there’s this little ball of something vile in his stomach and it isn’t just the whiskey.

He knocks the rest of his drink back, orders another, tries to focus on the bartender but he can see you in his peripheral vision and when you move he turns his head to follow you as the man leads you out onto the dance floor.

It occurs to him that he’d never had a conversation with you about exclusivity. He hasn’t seen anyone else since he’d met you, but he’d been gone more than he’d been with you and maybe you were seeing someone else. Maybe it was this guy, with his hand on your hip so familiar.

Yoongi doesn’t feel angry, exactly, but there’s a rock in his gut and his throat seems to have closed to a pinhole when he takes a gulp of his new drink, watching you dance.

You sway your hips slow, as if moving to a beat in your head instead of the music, and Yoongi would smile if he felt physically able to do so, watching the man behind you with both hands on your hips now, fingers splayed out.

Yoongi has this awful image, wonders if you’d let him put his hands on your hips like that somewhere more private, and he finishes his second drink too quickly, slams it down on the bar. The bartender blinks at him and Yoongi mutters out an apology, orders another.

Three drinks were his usual limit in crowded places like this, throughout the night, and now that he’s downed them within a couple of hours, things are a bit fuzzy around the edges. He tells himself he should stay seated, wait for the alcohol to hit his system, but he’s up and walking toward you on the dance floor before he can talk himself into staying on the bar stool. He’s only unsteady for a moment, a lifetime of enjoying alcohol has given him a good tolerance that he’s grateful for tonight.

Your eyes widen when you see him, a ghost of a smile playing along your lips.

“Can I cut in?” Yoongi asks, and it seems like a stupid, formal thing to say at a club that was blasting hip hop, but it makes you smile wider.

Yoongi doesn’t even look at the man, doesn’t hear his mumbled response, just replaces his hands on your hip with his own.

“That your boyfriend?” He knows he sounds like a petulant child but you laugh and it lessens the tightness in his throat.

“Mm, no. I don’t have a boyfriend.” You answer, coyly, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying to the music.

“That so?” Yoongi leans down, presses his mouth to your collarbone. He wants to suck a mark there but he resists. “Do you want one?” He mumbles it against your skin and you make a sound in the back of your throat.

He can’t hear your response, can’t touch you like he wants so he takes your hand and you follow him without a word.

When he pushes the door to the men’s room you tug on his arm, though.

He looks back at you and you scrunch your nose and pull him into the women's bathroom instead.

"There's an etiquette to hooking up at a club, Yoongi."

He laughs and finally that knot in his stomach loosens. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. The women's room is cleaner."

You beckon him into a stall, locking the door before backing him against it, kissing him hard, nipping at his bottom lip.

He moans into your mouth, it's been weeks since he'd been able to kiss you, touch you, and he's enjoying it until a flash of memory of that other guy's hands on your hips, fingers splayed, pops into his mind.

He calls your name, softly, and you pull away to look at him, this little pout on your mouth that he has to resist kissing.

"Are you seeing anyone else?"

You'd been fiddling with the buttons on his shirt but you freeze at his question.

"Not really," you reply, and the air feels thin suddenly and Yoongi trails the fingers of his right hand along your spine.

“That’s not really an answer,” Yoongi retorts, and his ears feel hot.

You only smirk, unbutton part of his shirt so that you can slide your hand inside to feel his skin.

“You jealous, Yoongi?”

He scoffs, and then his breath hitches when you place your palm on his bare chest. He pulls you closer by your waist and you lean into him.

“You’re jealous,” you say confidently, moving your hands to unbutton his slacks, and Yoongi’s mouth goes dry.

“I am,” he admits, feeling flushed all over.

“Why’s that? Territorial?”

Yoongi thinks it’s unfair of you to be asking things like this when he’s tipsy and horny, half hard from your kisses and your hands on his skin, but he puffs out his cheeks and lets out a breath through his nostrils and answers anyway.

“No,” he manages, it’s a croak because you’ve slipped your hand into his slacks and underwear, pressing your palm against his cock.

“Hmm. Well in that case, I got asked out tonight, think I should give him a call?”

“No,” he says again, empathically, taking your wrists and moving his body to pin you against the side of the stall instead of allowing you to pin him.

Your breath catches, your eyes dark with lust when you look at him.

“Why not?”

You want him to say it, Yoongi knows you well enough for that, has spent months learning all about who you are, he knows that much, but it’s hard to spit it out, especially like this, in a club bathroom stall with music booming overhead, muffled slightly by the bathroom walls.

Instead, he kisses you, hard, moves his hips against yours, shows you how hard you’ve made him and you whine into his mouth, clutch at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Want you,” he murmurs, and it isn’t an answer but it’s closer than silence and it’s as close as he can get right now.

“I know you want me,” you breathe, something exasperated in your tone.

Yoongi doesn’t have a condom, had no plans on coming out to meet anyone, and bemoans as much to you.

When you rummage around in your purse and pull one out, smirking, then he is mad, even though he’s not sure he has any right to be upset.

“So you came out to get laid tonight?” His voice is calmer than he’d expected with how his heart is pounding.

You shrug. “So what if I did?”

“You’re lucky I was here,” Yoongi says darkly, and your smirk only widens.

You don’t move a muscle, just tilt your chin up at him. “Why is that?”

Yoongi bunches your dress around your hips, roughly pushes your thong aside so that he can cup your pussy. He slides two fingers inside when you spread your thighs, moaning loudly.

He doesn’t respond to your question, kissing along the side of your throat and nipping at your earlobe instead.

“You’re lucky,” he murmurs, “because no one can fuck you like I do.”

You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your skin, and he kisses your throat again, sucking and biting there to make a mark. You’re loud, rocking your hips against his hand.

“I bet everyone can hear you moaning like a whore for me,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Yoongi,” you rasp, trembling.

“Hmm?”

He can’t deny it’s a rush, the way you’re shaking, desperate for him, all but begging him to fuck you. He always feels so out of control with you, the way you make him feel, the longing in the pit of his stomach, the way he’d follow you to hell if you’d asked him. He knows how easily you could break him, and he’s afraid of it but he keeps chasing you anyway. It’s nice to see that he can have some manner of control over you, too.

“Please,” you plead, and he pulls away from your throat, wonders about the logistics of fucking in a bathroom stall. It certainly wasn’t his normal scene, but he figures it out, wrapping your legs around his waist, lifting your ass to press you against the wall. Applying the condom is the awkward part but you’re panting, clutching at his shirt, kissing along his neck and he manages.

Your hands move between you, guiding his cock into you and he groans so low in his throat that it almost hurts.

“Always so wet for me,” he says into your ear, and you buck your hips, almost unseating yourself until he rights you with his hands on your hips.

“Fuck,” you curse almost mournfully and he can’t help but chuckle as he starts to roll his hips up into you, the angle making him spear into you deeper than he ever had before. All of your hookups had been quick but none against the wall. Yoongi thinks he likes it, loves the way you look with your dress bunched up, your tits heaving against his chest, makeup sweating off.

“Look at you,” he groans. “You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you agree in a short breath. “Yes, yes, please make me come, Yoongi.”

Your dirty talk makes his balls draw up and he thinks it might be over before you do but that’s okay, he’s good with his hands and his fingers.

Then you tug on his hair, your teeth gritted. “Harder,” you demand, and Yoongi’s eyes widen.

It’s quick after that, he’s fucking you hard and fast against the door, your ass sliding up and down with a squeaking sound.

He’s close and he lets his mouth run away with him, your cunt clenching around him.

“I want you to be mine,” he gasps. “Not just your body.”

“Yoongi, I’m coming, I’m coming, don’t stop,” you whine, and he isn’t sure you’re listening. Part of him hopes you aren’t, because if you don’t feel the same way he doesn’t want to know, at least not yet.

And then, just as he spills inside you, it comes bursting out of him like a dam has crumbled.

“Y/n, I’m falling in love with you.”

You kiss him, then, taking his face in your hands, your tongue sliding against his and he keeps rolling his hips into yours as you pulse around him.

It’s thirty seconds before he starts to come down, and a full minute before the horror of what he’s said starts to descend upon him.

Lowering you to the ground is more awkward than it should be since he has to pull out of you first, but you giggle when he puts you down on the floor, stumbling a little on shaky legs.

After you each adjust your clothes, you open your mouth to speak. “Yoongi-”

“Don’t,” he pleads. “Please don’t say anything.”

You frown, little wrinkles appearing between your eyes. He wants to kiss them.

“But-”

“Jagiya, please,” he all but begs, and he’s never called you a pet name but it slips out and he wants to disappear through the floor.

“Yoongi.” You say, fiercely. “Stop it.”

Yoongi groans, covering his face with his hands.

“I want to be yours, too.”

He peeks at you from between his fingers, his face flushed.

“You do?”

“I do.” You’re smiling, widely, and he’s not sure he’s ever seen you smile like that. It makes his heart soar.

“What about that guy?” He knows he’s pouting so he doesn’t fully uncover his face.

You laugh. “What guy? He just asked me to dance.”

Yoongi drops his hands from his face. “You...you made me think…”

You shrug. “Well, I didn’t know what you wanted from me. I had no idea you had feelings for me.”

“I’m in love with you,” Yoongi says incredulously. “I’m crazy about you. I’ve been crazy about you forever.”

“You didn’t tell me that!” You insist.

Yoongi laughs, loud and open, his heart feeling lighter, but it’s a short reprieve. His face falls.

“I’m just...I’m gone so often. I can’t give you what you want, what you’re looking for-”

You silence him by kissing him, just a peck on the lips. “Yoongi, you’re what I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

That rush is back, the fluttering in his chest and his stomach that he’s come to associate with you.

“Yeah?” It’s stupid, but it’s the only thing he can think of to say, looking down into your eyes and he’s sure he’s got the goofiest grin on his face.

But you grin back and it makes him feel better.

“Yeah.”

He still doesn’t get as much time with you as he likes and sometimes he still worries that you might meet someone else while he’s away, but you call him every night that you can, facetime him, and he keeps the butterflies, keeps the rush that reminds him of you, even when he’s busy making music or onstage.

You're always happy to reassure him that you've found what you're looking for, and you don't need anything more.

[fruityutas]

𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗯𝗼𝘆 ⊱ 𝘀.𝗷𝗻

poolboy!johnny x milf!reader

genre ~ smut, pwp tbh

not proofread

wc ~ 1.2k

synopsis ~ your husband never gives you any attention anymore, so you resort to fucking the poolboy he hired, not giving a shit if any of the snobs in your gated neighborhood hear or see you in your backyard.

warnings ~ sex without a condom, age gap, cheating, cursing, really this is very self indulgent imagine johnny fucking you in your backyard jeez

note ~ someone pm’d me and we shared many horny johnny ideas and this was one of them so here u guys go <3

taglist ~ @itsapapisongo​

“i’ll see you on monday, honey!” your good for nothing husband yells to you as he leaves for the week, going on yet another business trip. you didn’t have any care to answer, since he was fucking his assistant on these trips anyway. you weren’t stupid, he knew that you knew, but he didn’t love you just as much as you didn’t him. this whole marriage fell apart years ago, but neither wanted a divorce, in fear of losing the wealth acquired. your kids were grown and in college or had careers of their own by now, visiting every now and then. you were content with your life, you got anything you wanted thanks to your husband. being a trophy wife wasn’t bad per se, you were just bored.

the doorbell ringing draws you out of your thoughts, it must be the new pool hand your husband hired a few days ago. you open the door to a handsome young man. he was barely in his mid twenties, and looked delicious. you smile to yourself, thinking you could surely get used to him being around the house twice a week.

“good afternoon, you must be the wife. i’m johnny, your husband hired me to clean the pool.” his gaze was focused on your face, though you knew he really wanted to look a bit further down.

“well hello johnny, yes of course. the pool is right through here, let me take you.” you close the door behind him, getting a good look at his ass as he walked in front of you. this man was a piece of eye candy, something to get you through the day today. “here it is, the keys to the shed are under the pot near the door. you can use anything in there if you need it.” he nods and you walk back inside, albeit slowly. the kitchen window faces the pool, and it was large enough to see pretty much all of the yard. you lean against the counter, watching johnny so his job. his muscles flexed under the white tee he wore as his hands untangled the hose. you couldn’t help but stare, the sunlight hitting him just right. your gaze makes its way up, and you realize you’ve been caught staring. a smirk creeps onto johnny’s face. you wink at him before looking away to pretend to be occupied.

around ten minutes later, johnny comes inside, slightly sweaty from the labor he’d ben doing. “may i have some water mrs?” you hum and reach into the fridge for a bottle of water. “you know, i’m sure your husband wouldn’t appreciate his wife giving bedroom eyes to the poolboy.” you let out a small laugh, throwing your head back. 

“he’s too busy sleeping with his assistant to care what i do. besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” you creep closer to johnny slowly, stroking his arm and admiring the definition of his muscles. you sigh before walking out to the poolside, inspecting the work done so far. you feel johnny come up behind you, his breathing unsteady. you turn to look at him, and see that he’s flushed. a smirk makes its way to your face, satisfied at being the reason for his problem. 

“what you’re doing to me is so naughty, mrs. getting me riled up and flustered for your own enjoyment.” you turn fully and grab him by the belt loops, pulling him into you.

“are you gonna do something about it?” even if he towered over you, you still had the upper hand. being a mother of multiple children meant you had plenty of experience sexually. johnny takes your bluntness as the opportunity to go through with the thoughts both of you were having. he leans forward and captures your lips in a heated kiss, lips smacking and barely hitting the right spot. 

“you just think you’re so powerful being older, don’t you? well that may be the case but i assure you i’m the real one in charge here.” his confidence turned you on even more. johnny backs you up into a lounger, the soft fabric brushing against your calves. you position yourself on your knees, taking off the robe you had on, revealing a tiny swimsuit underneath. johnny groans at the sight, palming himself through his shorts. you giggle and pull him closer. 

“now johnny, i think i need help getting my top untied. i just can’t reach it!” you turn around and wiggle your ass at him, teasing. his large hand comes down hard on your ass with an audible smack, causing you to jolt. he wastes no time getting you completely naked. the summer breeze hits your pussy, a gasp being drawn from your lips. johnny snickers from behind you, his fingers coming down and spreading your slick around. he begins to toy with your clit, rubbing circles around it. you moan out, the feeling pleasurable.

“you’re so sexy, you know that? i’m gonna fuck the shit out of this pussy.” you whimper at his filthy words, his baritone voice resonating in you. he slaps your ass a few more times before trusting his fingers in you. they were thick and long, filling you relatively well. your husband never took the time for foreplay, always chasing his own high and disregarding your needs. johnny’s fingers plunge in and out of your gushing hole, the wet noises mixing with your moans. you’re so close to your orgasm when johnny removes his digits. you whine out, looking over your shoulder to see him sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “you taste so good, but i bet you feel even better.” he unbuttons his shorts and pulls them down along with his underwear, his cock springing up and slapping his abdomen. precum was leaking from the tip, providing extra lubrication. he uses the tip to spread your wetness around before he plunges his entire length in, bottoming out in you. the stretch was pleasurably painful, your moan evidence of that. johnny doesn’t give you time to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in roughly. his hands grip your hips harshly, pinching the skin. he starts fucking you up and down on his cock, your breasts bouncing with every push. his hips slapping your ass, the sounds of skin on skin echo in your open backyard. you’re too caught up in the pleasure to give a fuck, though. johnny’s low groans are loud, and certainly any neighbor outside can hear them. he grabs some of your hair into a messy ponytail and pulls you up to him. 

“you love my cock don’t you?” you don’t respond, only nodding. his other hand comes up to smack your face, a growl coming from him. “answer me, bitch.” you manage to moan out a weak “yes”, your orgasm rushing to you. you wrap one of your arms around johnny’s while the other one goes to stimulate your clit. his hips stutter against yours, his climax just as close as yours. “you gonna cum, baby?” you let out a small whine and nod at the younger man. his thrusts become harder, and his fingers move yours from your clit in favor of his. “then cum for me.” you let go, your orgasm washing over you like a wave. johnny doesn’t stop his assault on your body, though, overstimulating you in pursuit of his climax. with a few final strong thrusts, johnny’s cock twitches and releases spurts of cum into your pussy. heavy breathing fills the summer air as you both come down from your highs.

“same time next week?”

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete about ix

Pete finds out about you and Colson

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, slut-shaming, sibling fighting

A/N: It’s done! Thank you all for reading this far, hope it’s lived up to expectations.

A/N 2: This is modeled after the (many) fights I’ve had with my siblings 😊

Word Count: 2277

| i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii |  

“Just promise me that we tell him soon, okay?”

2 months later

Things had been going steadily with Colson since that first night he spent in your apartment. You’d honestly never felt happier in a relationship, except for the nagging fact that you still hadn’t told Pete. Every time Colson would ask about it, you’d feed him the same line, “I’m just not ready to handle that yet.”

You could tell he was tired of the sneaking around and the same old excuse, but you truthfully weren’t sure what the outcome would be. If Pete was going to be mad at you, you might as well enjoy what you had until then.

And were you enjoying it. You and Colson both had to admit that sneaking around everyone was thrilling. A few weeks into your relationship, he’d brought you on set of one of his music videos to “show you the process.” The process, it turns out, was hooking up in a side room while the crew was on lunch break.

You knew it would be so much better if you could be honest about your relationship. If you could go out on dates publicly or post the cute pictures you take of him on your Instagram, or literally anything a normal couple could do. But for now, you were happy.

Last night, Colson had come over with takeout and a bottle of champagne, setting up a picnic on the floor of your living room. You talked and kissed while different movies played in the background, the bubbly starting to get to your head. You almost let three very important words slip out, but somewhere deep in your brain, common sense still lingered.

You knew you loved him, but you didn’t want to pressure him into saying anything he wasn’t ready for. You wanted him to take the first step. So, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you let the night carry into morning, waking up to a loud knock on your door.

There was no part of you that was about to get up and open the door, so you just snuggled further into Colson and closed your eyes. But then, the lock clicked and the handle squeaked through the small apartment.

Your entire body was immediately on high alert, shaking Colson to wake him up. His tired eyes opened, finding you and shifting to immediate confusion. He opened his mouth to say something before he was interrupted by the voice of the intruder,

“Hey Y/N, mom wanted me to pick up the-“ The door of your bedroom opened, revealing a stunned Pete. His eyes shifted from you to Colson, and then back to you. He let out a scoff, shaking his head and leaving the room.

You sighed, jumping out of bed and throwing on the closest shirt, that just so happened to belong to Colson. “Pete!” You ran out of the room, grabbing onto his arm and stopping him from leaving, “please jus-“

“You are the most manipulative bitch I have ever met, and I’ve met a lot.” His voice was dark, furious. Your mind was running a mile a minute to figure out how to explain everything. “I asked you for one simple thing, and you can’t even fucking do that?”

Tears began to flood behind your eyes, panic taking over your body. You were already on edge from the earlier fear of someone being in your house, and you were incredibly tired. So combined with Pete yelling at you, even if you did deserve it, it was enough to send you into a spiral of negative thoughts and anger. “If you would act fucking rational when I tried to talk to you about it, maybe you would know that it wasn’t so simple!”

Pete chuckled, “right, sorry. I forgot that you’re a slut who can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

His words hit you like a thousand punches, so much so that you physically took a step backwards. He took no notice, continuing to pour all his anger out on you. “And you’re a fucking liar. How long have you been whoring around with him? Because if I were to guess, it’d be a couple months by now, right?”

Colson, who was standing by the door to your room, not quite sure what to do with himself, spoke up, “Pete, st-“

“How many of my other friends have you been fucking?” Pete ignored his friend, eyes still seeing red and focusing on you. “I mean, seriously, what is this? Did I do something wrong? Did you want to hurt me? Is this you getting back at me for something, by fucking around with my friends?”

Tears were falling freely from your eyes, embarrassment and hurt coursing through your veins. “You always make everything about you, Pete. You never fucking consider anyone else except your goddamn self.”

You shoved his chest harshly, turning and walking towards your bedroom. You pushed past Colson, who tried to comfort you, slamming the door behind you. You sat on the bed and let everything weigh down on you, Pete’s words ringing in your ears. Part of you was angry with him, telling you that he was in the wrong. But another part of you was angry at yourself for not being a good sister.

Outside the door, Pete had turned his anger towards Colson. “Get out.” Your boyfriend had tried to talk reason with Pete, but your brother was having none of it. “You are not my fucking friend, okay? Not anymore.”

“Pete, you’re being ridiculous, ju-“

“I’m not being fucking ridiculous!” Pete yelled, “that’s my fucking sister. You could fuck anyone else in the goddamn world and you chose to fuck my little sister? That’s fucked, dude.”

Colson was overcome by the urge to defend your relationship, “I fucking love her, Pete. Okay? Goddamn.” For the first time since Pete walked out of your room, he was quiet. “Do you think I would risk my entire relationship with you for some fuck? Do you think she would?”

He didn’t wait for a response, instead turning and walking into your room. The sight of you curled up, knees to your chest, made Colson’s heart break. He climbed on the bed behind you, back to the headboard, and pulled you into his lap. He could feel your body shake with every sob, so he just held you tightly in his arms.

When he could feel you physically start to calm down, he whispered gently, “I love you.”

You’d always hoped whenever you heard those words from him, you’d feel relieved, knowing your relationship was as real to him as it was to you. But right now you were only filled with dread. You didn’t want him to love you, because it made everything seem so much worse. How had you let it get this far?

Before you could respond, Colson continued, “I love you, but I can’t stay with you.” You leaned further into his chest, staring blankly ahead of you. “I want you to be happy, and you won’t be if you lose Pete.”

Your lip quivered as you whispered out, “I love you too.”

Colson sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before moving to climb out of the bed. Tears blurred your vision as you watched him walk out of the room. Him leaving only made you fall even more in love with him, which hurt like a bitch.

When Colson came into view of Pete, the younger man studied him, but not in anger. “Did you really mean that?”

Colson sighed, “that I love her? Yeah, I do.” Pete was sat on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face to try and calm himself down. “But I’m not about to let you ruin your relationship with her over me. So, if you want me gone, I’m gone.”

Pete was silent for a few moments, and Colson could feel his own heartbeat slowing down, the thought of losing you for good finally hitting him. “How long?”

The older man sat on the other side of the couch, elbows on his knees, “It’s complicated. I asked her out the day after we met but then I broke it off like a week later when you guys got in that fight about it.” Pete nodded to confirm he remembered, “then we tried the whole “friends” thing for like a month, but it obviously didn’t work. Then two months later, here we are.”

Pete was staring blankly at the black TV screen in front of him, absorbing the blonde’s words. “Why didn’t you guys just tell me?” Pete’s voice was weak, guilt and regret slowly sinking into his system.

Colson hung his head, “because she wanted to put this off as long as possible, I think. I tried to get her to talk to you about it but she wasn’t ready. I don’t think I was either, truthfully. I figured once you knew, if it were as bad as she thought it would be, I would lose her.”

“You would really leave if it meant keeping her and me from fighting?” Colson could feel his heart stop at Pete’s words, the expected heartbreak on the horizon.

“If it meant she was happy, yeah.”

Pete rested his head in his hands, sighing deeply, “I’m an asshole.”

This took Colson by surprise, as it was not the response he was expecting. He thought he’d be thrown out immediately. “What do you mean?”

“We have this rule that we don’t fuck each other’s friends because then someone gets hurt and one of us would probably lose a friend. So, I flipped out when she brought it up because I really didn’t want to be put in that situation.” Pete paused, looking up to his friend, “But obviously you’re serious about her and you make her happy.”

Colson replied sincerely, “you know I’m never gonna hurt her, right?”

“I’ll kill you if you do, best friend or not.”

“That’s fair.”

The two men sat in silence for a while before they broke out into laughter, Pete reaching over to shove Colson’s shoulder, “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Colson nodded, laughing it off, “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

Pete knocked on your door lightly, not waiting for a response before slowly walking in. You hadn’t moved since Colson left; your eyes still blankly focused on the wall in front of you. He sat down beside you and pulled you into his side, head resting on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean any of that,” his voice was hushed but sincere. “I was hurt and confused and I said things in the moment that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “you don’t have to apologize. I deserved it.” When you spoke, your voice was flat, void of all emotion. Just how you felt.

Pete sighed, “no, you didn’t. You tried to talk to me about it months ago and I blew up on you. I can’t blame you for not telling me.”

“It’s fine Pete, it’s over anyways.” You wanted to scream at yourself for falling too easily and at him for making assumptions, but you couldn’t find the strength. “It was more than just sex though, Pete.”

“I know, I was being an asshole.” He squeezed you closer into his side, “I should’ve realized you wouldn’t hook up with one of my friends unless it was serious.”

You whispered, “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.” Your voice was strained, “I wanted to tell you but I knew when you found out that you’d get mad and then something like this would happen. But I really fucking liked him, I just wanted to hold onto it while I could.”

“I was mad. Dude, I was pissed when I walked in.” Pete could feel you tense up at his words, “but you’re my sister and he’s my best friend. I just want you guys to be happy. And I might not like it, but he makes you happy.”

You sighed in relief, “you know I would never try to hurt you, right? Like I didn’t do this to make you mad or put you in a weird spot. It just kind of happened.”

Pete chuckled, “yeah, I know. And I’m sorry for saying all that shit. I was mad, you know how I get.”

You rolled your eyes, “you mean I know that you’re crazy? Yes, I am very aware.”

He shoved your shoulder lightly, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence for a moment before he broke it. “If you two make me third wheel, I swear I’ll kill you both.”

“Have you two met yourselves? I feel like I’m third wheeling you guys when we all hang out,” you giggled, climbing out of the bed. “I think you owe me sushi now.”

Pete gave you a very confused expression, “you snuck around with my best friend behind my back. If anything, you ow me sushi.”

“You called me a slut and a bitch. And you embarrassed me in front of my boyfriend.” You said matter-of-factly, a small smile on your face to let Pete know you’d already started to get over it.

He rolled his eyes, getting up and moving to the living room, “that just makes us even.”

“I’m suing you for emotional damages.” You joked as you followed him, sitting on the couch next to Colson, leaning into him, “the court has determined you owe me sushi.”

Colson looked between you both, confused, “so, you two are good now?” Pete and you nodded, smiling. “Siblings are fuckin’ weird, man.”

Tag list @corpse-babe @sesamepancakes

[aereres]

Professional - Jonathan Toews

Summary: You were expecting things to become calm after landing the position as Jonathan Toews' PA, as calm as your stressful job could be. Your relationship with your boss, though, makes your life become anything but calm.

A/N: It’s here! It’s out! Wanna thank my bestie @captaindaddies for helping me out with some stuff, ily bby ❤️

Word Count: 14,4k 

Warnings: Lots of swearing, SMUT, maybe even a tip of angst, lots of nervousness and lots of teasing. Mentions of Patrick Kane, if it might bother.

Nervous, that was how you felt. Standing on the front steps of Jonathan Toews’ house was you, your bag nervously pulled close to your side as you mustered the courage to knock, to let him know you were finally ready to work as his personal assistant.

How you landed the job was still unknown to you: you were inexperienced, and everyone could tell by the way you were nervously standing in front of his front door. Still searching for the courage inside of you, you breathed out a sigh. You needed to get your shit together.

Jonathan Toews wasn’t intimidating. Right?

After breathing in a large amount of air and pushing it out of your lungs quickly, you let your knuckles hit the wood of his door, your heart hammering against your ribcage. You waited, for so long you almost thought you had missed him due to his early morning practice. When the door opened, though, you were met with a composed-looking hockey player.

You had seen him only through the screen of your laptop, but you could say that he looked way better in real life. Trying not to get too lost in his dark eyes, you greeted him softly, a nervous smile on your features.

“Y/N! Great to finally meet you in person!” He spoke, his voice deeper than you could remember as he looked at you, a professional smile on his lips. “Come in, I got a few minutes before I have to leave for practice,”

“Thank you, Mr. Toews,” was all you were able to mutter, getting rid of your coat and holding it in your arms as you looked around the rather large mansion. He gave you a small tour, and you found yourself mesmerized by everything he had shown you, from the high ceilings to the large windows that viewed Lincoln Park.

“I left a list of things to do on the kitchen counter,” he said when you found yourselves back in the main hall. “You’ll find everything you might need in that paper,”

“Okay, sir,” you smiled, finally at ease. Rummaging through your purse, you grabbed the stack of papers you had printed out for the occasion, carefully handing it to him. “You asked for my curriculum,”

“Right,” he nodded his head, scanning through the words quickly. “I’ll take a look at it after practice,”

You smiled his way, nodding your head before he could leave the room to grab his bag, leaving you on your own in the large hall. You hesitantly let yourself wander inside the kitchen, where the paper he had talked about was sitting neatly on the isle.

“I’m heading out,” he called from the hallway. “My number is on that paper, if you need help with anything,”

“Thank you, Mr. Toews,”

“Oh, and make yourself at home, Y/N,”

-

“What are you even reading, man?” Patrick sighed as he dropped his helmet on the bench, looking at an already-showered Jonathan slumped over a bunch of papers.

“My PA’s curriculum,” Jon mumbled, lower lip tugged between his lips.

The teammate snatched the papers from his hands, scanning through the words with a smirk on his face. “Originally from Canada, fresh out of college, worked for a company for a couple of months, ten years younger than you,” he nodded his head. “And she’s even hot,”

“It’s strictly professional,” Jon huffed, jokingly punching his friend’s shoulder as he turned around to grab some clothes, his eyes finding your picture attached to the files as he did so.

“Yeah, sure,” Patrick rolled his eyes as he took off his skates. Jonathan got dressed in silence, his mind wandering back to you and what you could have been doing at the mansion. He had received no call from you, no text, so he was guessing everything was coming along just fine back at his place.

“You aren’t even going to give it a thought?” Patrick asked after a while. “You’ve been single for ages, man,”

“She’s my employee,” Jonathan sighed, sending his teammate a dirty look. “I pay her to work for me, that’s all,”

“Whatever you say, Jon,”

“I’ll see you later, Kaner,” was all Jon said as he grabbed his duffle bag, propping it over his shoulder as he left the room, his mind elsewhere. Entering his Tesla, he took a deep breath and decided to go grab another coffee, something he didn’t do too often.

Patrick was exaggerated, Jon knew it already, but his teasing words impressed themselves into his mind. He wasn’t going to lie to himself, he had taken a liking to you from the first moment you had your call together for your interview. You were kind, a smile constantly on your face as you answered his questions, you were willing to do everything he asked you to do.

He shook his head when that phrase formed itself in his brain, taking a rather different turn from the professional relationship the two of you shared. Hell, he was shocked at his own self when he let his mind even go there just after your first time meeting in real life.

Turning off the car in the coffee shop’s parking lot after grabbing his usual order, he slid his phone out of his pocket. His brain was telling him not to do it, not to get too into your business, but he wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

He couldn’t even remember when the last time he had pressed on that contact’s name was, that was how much time had passed since he had last called that person. He didn’t hesitate, finally starting the call and pressing the device to his ear, his eyes focusing on the steering wheel.

“Mike? Hey, it’s Jon,” was all he said as soon as the old acquaintance picked up. “I need a background check on someone,”

-----

You had graduated at the top of the class, moved away from home for college, to Edmonton. You had an older brother, you weren’t big on sports when you were younger, you liked traveling. All the information was engraved in Jon’s mind.

You didn’t like being late, it was clear from the way you had apologized earlier that morning, Jonathan’s coffee in your hands as you mumbled sorrowful words. You overworked yourself, you weren’t one to leave work undone, and you didn’t like disappointing people.

From his spot in his living room, Jonathan analyzed you, his brows furrowed in concentration and arms folded over his chest. You were interesting, to say the least. There was something about you that had him extremely intoxicated.

Was it your sweet perfume? Was it your laugh? Or the way you spoke? He didn’t know. Less than two months. That was how long it took his thoughts to become anything but professional, that’s how long it took for him to become more than aquaintained with your presence.

Was it your inexperience? Only two boyfriends throughout high school and college, both lasted less than two months. Or was it your innocence?

You kept him awake at night, thinking about you the way a boss shouldn’t think about his employee. You had become a constant distraction at practice, during meetings, during moments he had less expected to even think about you.

He had never felt that weak for a woman ten years his junior, and he truly felt frustrated.

“Mr. Toews? Everything okay?”

Your sweet voice sent jolts through his body, snapping him out of his trance. Mr. Toews, the name kept making his cock strain against his pants, no matter how many times you called him that. “Yeah, I’m fine, Y/N,” he mumbled, voice deeper than usual as he stood up from the couch. He was at your side in just a few seconds, his eyes finding the screen of your laptop to see a schedule. “What are you doing?”

His arms caged you against the kitchen island as his chest slightly touched your back, his eyes still attached to your screen as your heartbeat quickened. “I uh- I’m organizing your schedule,” you stuttered, your body shivering from his closeness. “Player media tour is coming up soon,”

“Right,” he mumbled, a smirk painting itself on his lips as your breath got caught up in your throat when he squeezed your waist before leaving the room. You struggled to stay concentrated after he left, your mind going places it shouldn’t go as you cursed yourself for feeling that way about your boss.

Everything felt so wrong, from the way your heart hammered against your chest every time he stepped close to you, to the way you often found yourself in need of release from his teasing actions.

Working for Jonathan Toews had been unexpectedly hard, it was testing your boundaries. Holding yourself back, acting as if he wasn’t the only person you could think about, as if his name wasn’t the one you had found yourself screaming at night; it was becoming hard.

Two boring months had passed from the day you had started working for him, two boring months of taking care of his stuff and doing what you were told. Two boring months that took a turn and became two hard months when your attraction for your boss had started, two hard months that would soon become three, four, five…

Things needed to change, if you wanted to keep yourself away from any kind of heartbreak. You needed to change.

With a sigh, you unlocked your phone, letting your fingers do their work until a dating app was installed. You stared at its icon for what felt like ages, wondering whether it would be worth it or not, but eventually, you got yourself logged in.

And maybe, it was for the best.

-----

“Fuck-” you breathed out as you skimmed your way through the people crowding the streets of Chicago, some of them even wearing the Blackhawks jerseys. “I’m so late,”

You forgot to pick up his suit. His damn suit. You had been so concentrated on answering emails and getting things settled for him that the task had slipped out of your mind. The city was crowded, almost everyone seemed to be buzzed for the game, and you truly were late.

The familiar banner of the dry and clean was visible from where you were, and it took you less than a few minutes to actually reach their entrance, your breathing heavy. Your phone chimed in your hand, snapping your attention towards the message that you had received. Markus, one of the guys you had matched with on the dating app just a few weeks prior, was asking you out. If you wouldn’t have been as busy as you actually were, maybe you would have squealed in happiness, maybe you would have even called your cousin to let her know you were back in the dating scene. But you were late, your boss was waiting for you, and the text from Markus could be left on delivered for a little more.

Pushing your device inside the back pocket of your jeans, you stepped inside the warm environment of the workplace, picking up the clothing as quickly as you could before making your way back towards the mansion.

You were almost sweating when you finally closed the front door behind yourself, slipping off your coat and looking around the first story of the building for Jonathan, your mind thinking about the text from Markus. “Mr. Toews? I have the suit,”

“Upstairs!” Was all he yelled, lightly scaring you. You were hesitant to walk up the stairs. He hadn’t made it official, but it was pretty clear that he cared about his privacy, so you had taken it upon yourself to stay away from the sleeping area of the house.

You had visited that area twice: on your first day, when he had toured you around the mansion, and a week into your job, to hand him Advil after a pretty rough night at a club. Even then, you never walked past the threshold of his room, too scared to intrude.

Carefully, you started to make your way to the last floor of the house, dragging with you the suit and your nervousness. Shuffling sounds came from the end of the hallway, where the door was peeking open. The warm tones of the lights inside the master bedroom were slightly illuminating the hallway, inviting you to step closer.

“Mr. Toews?” You said, knocking lightly on the door. “I have your suit,”

He was quick to open the door completely, revealing his body to you. He had a white button-up on, his bottom being covered only by a pair of boxers. “Come in, I need your advice on something,”

Jonathan Toews was almost half-naked in front of you, showed no embarrassment from it, and you felt oh so turned on. But it was wrong, you weren’t supposed to feel that way, and that was when you made your decision. You were going on the date.

He walked towards the mirror, turning his back to you as you hesitantly stepped in. You laid the suit on his bed, keeping your eyes to the floor to avoid any kind of discomfort from his side.

“Help me choose my cufflinks?”

He was looking at you, motioning for you to go stand next to him with a small smile. When you obediently made your way towards him, he turned towards the mirror to sort out his tie. Your eyes met his quite big collection of cufflinks, everything looking so shiny and expensive. You weren’t shocked, it wasn’t a secret that you were working for a man with money, you were just surprised to see so much gold in front of your own eyes.

“I was going to go with these ones,” he mumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts and pointing towards the blue pair that was resting on the dresser. “But I’m not too sure. Choose a pair, please,”

With shaky hands, you let yourself pick the ones that had caught your attention from the start. They were golden, probably pure gold, resting cold in the palm of your hand as you inspected them. They stared back at you as the room fell silent, the only sounds coming from Jonathan, who was touching up the look of his tie.

“My grandfather’s,” you heard him say after a while, his deep voice bringing you back to reality. He was closer than you had thought, his warm palms gently holding your arms as he looked down at the pair you had chosen. “Good choice,”

Your cheeks burnt at his praise, your eyes looking up at his mirror reflection for a second. He had you flustered, and it was extremely unprofessional. Everything about your boss seemed to bring you to the edge: from the way he spoke, his voice deep and lustful, to the way his rough hands would randomly graze against yours, their touch so gentle.

“I’ll- I’ll be downstairs, I’ve got some stuff to finish,” you stuttered, biting on your lip as you started to make your way outside, stopping in your tracks when you remembered. “Oh, I had a question, sir,”

“Go on,”

“I was wondering if I could get off earlier, tomorrow night,”

“Anywhere special to be?” Jonathan asked, a smirk painting his lips as he completed the pre-game look.

“I have a date, sir,”

He tried to keep his expression as natural as possible, even though jealousy was truly burning him alive. He didn’t want to see you with someone else, someone who barely even knew you, or who barely even knew how to treat you.

He was pretty confident when it came to knowing you. Maybe the way he found out - thanks to Mike - wasn’t the best way to actually get to know you, but he knew what got you flustered, what had you weak. He knew how to make you feel that way.

How could a guy your age even know anything regarding your pleasure?

“Sir?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” he mumbled - his voice fakely uninterested - ending the conversation as quickly as it started. That was your sign to leave the room, confused as to how you were supposed to feel. Happy because you were going to go on a date with Mark? Or sad because Jonathan seemed to not care at all, especially since you had thought he would, after all the teasing he had done on you?

His voice held you back one last time, making you turn around and catch his gaze in the mirror reflection. “Wish me luck?” Was all he said, making you remember just then that he had more important things to do to even care about your date.

“Good luck, Mr. Toews,”

-

Jon breathed out a long sigh as he let himself fall on one of Patrick’s couches, the glass of whiskey in his hand feeling cold against the warm skin of his palm. They had taken another loss, and that time, Jon was pretty confident when he said it was his fault.

He had tried to push you to the back of his mind, at least for one night, but it had been easier said than done. The jealousy he had felt just hours prior didn’t leave his body, and he wanted nothing more than to show you who you belonged to.

“Another fucking game, man,” Patrick scoffed, letting his body flop down next to him. “That shit gets me so pissed off,”

“Yeah, man,” was all Jonathan mumbled, putting the glass to his lip before taking a drink, the liquid burning his throat.

“How are things with your pretty girl?” Patrick changed the conversation, sending his friend a smirk as he sipped his own drink.

“What pretty girl?” Jon grumbled, looking at the whiskey in the glass with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Your PA, man,”

Jon fought the urge to roll his eyes, the look he sent his friend being enough to answer his question. “I told you, professional,”

“Come on, Jon,” Patrick chuckled. “You haven’t even given it a thought?”

Jonathan stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to gather his thoughts before actually giving his teammate an answer. Oh, he did give it a thought. Multiple times. “She’s going on a date tomorrow, that’s all you need to know,”

“And you’re jealous,”

“Am not,” Jon lied, scoffing as he downed the rest of his drink, pouring himself more.

“Then why are you telling me about this?” Patrick asked, knowing that no matter what, he was right. “Don’t act as if you haven’t been thinking about her, you’ve been weird ever since she started working for you,”

Jon clenched his jaw, his eyes directing towards the skyline of Chicago from Patrick’s windows. “Okay, yeah, maybe I am,” he admitted. “Guys her age will never be able to take care of her,”

“She obviously wanted a reaction from you, man,” Patrick rolled his eyes, so obvious in his point of view. “Why would she even tell you? You’re her boss, as you like to say,”

His thought made sense: why did you even tell him you were going on a date in the first place? “That girl got you fucked up, bud,” Patrick chuckled, shaking his head.

“Fuck, every time she calls me ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Toews’-” Jon sighed out, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. “I can’t resist her,”

“Then don’t,”

Sending his friend a dirty glare, he chugged another drink. “I’m serious, Toews. Just get the girl,”

“As if it’s that easy,” he mumbled under his breath, pushing his glass on the coffee table before standing up. “I’m outta here. Thanks, man, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

Heading out of the house, he wanted nothing more than to go home and get some rest. You crowded his mind even in his sleep, but he needed to get some rest and figure himself out.

He wasn’t able to resist you anymore, that he was sure of.

-----

You hadn’t been on many dates before, but it didn’t take much to understand that the one with Markus shouldn’t have even been considered a date. He had charmed you, brought you out to dinner just to get you in his bed, and even fussed when you had made it clear that you didn’t want to see him again.

You were frustrated, to say the least.

You had gotten just a few hours of sleep before having to head in for work, finding the mansion empty, no sign of Jonathan. No call from him was received, when you worked, he had shown no interest in you for the entire day.

Your cousin Laila also seemed to be missing in action: she hadn’t picked up your calls and ignored all your texts. You were pretty sure she had kept her phone off for the day.

The first sound inside the house was unexpected, it almost scared you. It was the front door closing, the sound of footsteps following soon after. You put on a smile, glancing up from your computer to see a tired-looking Jonathan entering the living area.

“Good evening, Mr. Toews,”

“Hi,” he mumbled, pushing himself towards the kitchen to grab a glass and an expensive bottle of wine.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

He had to hold himself back from sighing, shaking his head as he poured himself a glass. “Didn’t you have that date, last night?” Was all he asked after a while, twisting his wrist and watching the velvety liquid move around the glass.

“I did,” you sighed. “How was your day, sir?”

“I don’t want to talk about my day,” was all he said, voice stern as he sat next to you on the couch, more than curious to hear about the guy you had gone out with. “Tell me about the date,”

You held back a shocked look, letting your eyes find his for a second. “I-I don’t want to bother you, sir,”

“You’re not bothering me, sweetheart,” the pet name had you weak, your heart beating out of your chest as you struggled to breathe properly. “And please, call me Jon,”

The smile on his lips was enough to send shivers down your spine, a breathy sigh leaving your lips as you shut your laptop. The fact that Jonathan, your own boss, cared to even listen to you ranting about your date made him even hotter, from your point of view. He seemed to be the only one that wanted to hear about it, which spurred you on to actually talk to him about it.

“Well, he brought me out to dinner at this new Indian place, downtown,” you started, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your eyes stay on your lap. “He made us split the check-”

“Hang on-” he mumbled out, his hand finding your knee to stop you. “He split the check?!”

“Yeah,” was all you could whisper, gulping as you looked at his hand on your leg. With your last ounce of courage, you let your eyes focus on his.

“Tell me he at least paid for his shit,” he said, taking a sip of his drink as his hand slowly moved higher.

The shake of your head was enough to get him to groan. “He got the most expensive dish out of the menu and just split the check at the end,”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffed, sending you a glance. “Hope you went home after that,”

You kept your mouth shut, your silence being enough to make him realize that you had done the opposite. “Y/N-”

Your name sounded so good, coming from his lips, it had you burning for him. Coming back to your senses, you kept explaining your side of the story. “Well, he mentioned going back to his place, and I needed to relieve some stress, Jon,”

“So you fucked,” he tried to keep his bitterness at bait by chugging down part of his wine. “You don’t look too relaxed, though,”

Everything seemed to spill out of you so quickly after that, especially under his gaze that left you more than submissive for him. “There was no foreplay,”

Jon rolled his eyes, hiding a cocky smirk when he realized he was more than correct, the night when you had revealed that you were going on the date: the guy didn’t know how to satisfy you.

“And, you know-” you mumbled, suddenly shy. “I wasn’t- I didn’t-”

“You didn’t cum,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as his hand slid up even more on your thigh. “It was pretty obvious,”

You looked at him, your body on fire as you tried not to concentrate too much on how his hand felt on your leg, or how much you needed him. “You know, you look cute when you get shy,” he mumbled, smirking as his thumb drew shapes on the tender skin right before your inner thigh, teasing you just right. “You’re so innocent, you don’t even know what you do to me,”

Your head rolled against the back of the couch as you bit back a moan, his eyes holding yours strictly as he let his hand inch closer to your center. “Did he have you so riled up for him?”

You breathed out a sigh, relishing in his touch as his fingers ghosted over the spot you needed him the most. He stopped, though, snapping you out of your lust-induced trance by pulling you over his lap. You were breathing harshly, your hands on his muscled chest as your noses brushed against each other. “Answer my question,” he grumbled, his hands rough on your thighs. “Did he make you feel the way that I make you feel?”

“No,”

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop,” he said, voice firm as his eyes stared deep into yours.

You finally seemed to be back to your senses partially, realizing just then how wrong everything was. But it felt so good, you needed release and Jon seemed to be the one willing to help you with that. As if it wasn’t enough, all the teasing he had done on you seemed to resurface, and it made you more than eager to let him have you.

What was happening, suddenly, didn’t feel wrong anymore. “I want it,”

That was all it took for him to let his lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, your hands subconsciously moving towards his hair, gripping it gently. His mouth ate all your moans, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in, leaving you even more at his mercy.

The smell of his cologne had you in a frenzy, kissing him until you were short of breath just to have him press open-mouthed kisses on your neck while you pulled apart for air. His lips were back on yours before you knew it, playing you like the finest violin as the warmth in your chest spread lower.

When his hands found your waist, pulling you even closer and helping you grind on his growing bulge, your mind started working again. It reminded you it was wrong, that Jon was just your boss and your relationship had to be strictly professional. Caving in had already been a big mistake, not stopping would have surpassed every possible line.

You scrambled away from him, pushing yourself off of his lap in a rush, feeling extremely guilty. “Y/N, come back-”

You didn’t listen to his pleas, grabbing your coat before heading out the door, your heart beating out of your chest.

You had fucked up.

-

You had almost considered calling in sick just to avoid the sight of Jonathan for a little longer. The regret was intense, and you were sure you hadn’t felt anything like that before.

You were essential to his life, though, it was something you had to face. You couldn’t stay home and avoid him, or beat yourself up for what had happened the previous night for months. It had happened, it was unprofessional, but you had to get yourself out of bed and on with your life.

The mansion was silent, when you first entered it. You found your laptop on the couch, on the same spot where you were sitting the previous night, and some of your belongings on the kitchen table.

You left a go-to cup of Jon’s hot coffee on the island, opening your computer to take another look at your boss’ schedule. After morning practice, he had to be headed towards his favorite restaurant to have lunch with his brother, and then, he had a session with his personal trainer later in the afternoon.

Just as you were thinking about the fact that you needed to go pick up a present for his mother’s birthday, you heard two pairs of footsteps coming down the stairs. Jonathan was walking behind a blonde-haired woman, his hair messy as she sported a smile.

The sight of him with another woman had you regretting your previous night's reckless decisions even more. She was pretty, he seemed happy, and you felt dumb. Dumb to even have hoped for a small moment that it might have meant something to him, dumb because you were jealous of her, even though you had been the one to run away, after getting your moment with Jon.

His eyes found yours when he finally stepped foot inside the first floor. You held back a fresh set of tears as you looked back down at the computer screen, biting on your bottom lip as you tried to zone out.

“And that’s the door,” you heard him say quickly. “Y/N, I can-”

“Call me later?” The woman interrupted him, voice as sweet as honey as he opened the door for her, trying to get her out of the house as fast as possible.

“Sure. Bye,” the door was shut loudly behind her, the echo of his footsteps impressing itself into your mind as he made his way inside the kitchen.

“Y/N, I can explain,”

“You have lunch after practice with your brother,” you said, voice monotone as you avoided eye contact with him in every possible way. “Then a session with your personal trainer at five. Want me to schedule you a call with that woman, too?”

“Listen, Y/N, she was here because after last night-”

“Last night was totally unprofessional from both of our sides,” you stated, finally sending him a sharp look. “I’d prefer if the matter won’t be discussed anymore, Jonathan,”

“Y/N-”

“Practice is in five, I’d start leaving the house, if I was you,” you mumbled. “I’ll be out to get your mother her birthday present from you,”

“Fuck, her birthday, yes,” he muttered, grabbing his keys and coat as he settled for leaving the house, knowing just how much he had fucked up. “I thought we could have gone together?”

“Your schedule is pretty packed, but I could see,”

“Please?” He asked, voice soft for the first time. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the tears that were slowly swelling up as you nodded your head. He wanted to talk, it was obvious, and you just couldn’t say no to your boss.

“Thursday afternoon,”

“Thank you,” he sighed out, grabbing his cup of coffee before leaving the house, his mind elsewhere. “I’ll see you later,”

As soon as the door closed behind him, you let the tears fall. As much as you wanted to put up a tough facade, you had been broken, and you felt like your whole world had been dropped. You felt confused, heartbroken, jealous.

You pressed on Laila’s contact, sniffling when she picked up. “Y/N?”

“Oh, Laila,” you sobbed, even surprising yourself. “Why am I so stupid?”

She was confused, to say the least. You hadn’t called her in tears for what felt like ages; hell, work had gotten you so busy you hadn’t called her for months. Everything had come out of your mouth so quickly it had you shocked: you explained to her the teasing, the famous night, and just what had happened minutes prior, tears streaming down your face as if you’d never experienced heartbreak before.

The fact that you even felt heartbroken from your boss, Jonathan Toews, felt unreal. You had pushed your feelings for him aside for so long that you weren’t expecting to feel that hurt over something so small. You were shocking your own self.

“Why am I even crying over him, Lai?” You sniffled, wiping the leftover tears on your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“You clearly have feelings for him, Y/N,”

You closed your mouth shut at her words, shock evident in your voice as you stuttered. “But I barely even know him!”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Silence came from Laila’s line, a long sigh could only be heard as the two of you stopped talking. “This might sound so cheesy, but listen to your heart, Y/N,”

You sniffled at her words, still unsure of everything going on in your life as your heart still felt quite broken even after venting to your cousin. You needed time to figure things out, time to think.

And time was what you gave yourself.

-----

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Jonathan greeted you softly, his eyes finding yours when you stopped in front of him. “I’m not the greatest at gifts,”

You giggled, shaking your head as you mindlessly let your hand grasp his forearm, sending shivers down his spine. “Of course, Jon,”

“I uh- I got the car out,” he pointed towards his Tesla, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know you prefer walking, but I exaggerated at the gym earlier and my legs are pretty sore,”

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, his softness making your heartbeat quicken. “Shall we go?”

As if you had snapped him out of his thoughts, he nodded his head, leading you towards the vehicle and opening the passenger door for you. The car was fancy, but you weren’t expecting anything else from him. He was Jonathan Toews, his wristwatch probably cost more than your old college tuition.

You small talked until you reached your destination, the large mall just out of town that hosted the most expensive stores, the ones you were so used to admiring from the distance. You slipped out of the car on your own, looking at the building with a small ounce of anxiousness as you waited for Jon to reach your side.

“You ready?”

You turned around to face him, nodding your head sharply as you tried not to get lost in his wide smile. “Thought you wanted to stay there and gaze at the mall for the rest of the afternoon,”

“No,” you giggled, starting to walk just when his hand slipped on your lower waist, nudging you. Your heart was fluttering, his touch so gentle against your skin as he helped you towards the door. Why did it feel so good when he touched you? You were supposed to hate him, to be disappointed in him; yet, you couldn’t pull away, keep a safe distance between the two of you. It was as if you were magnets, the attraction too much to actually let go.

Snapping out of your trance, you remembered just why you were there, with him, and what you needed to do. “Uh- have you been thinking about anything?”

“Jewelry,” was all he suggested, his hand dropping back to its place next to his waist when you walked inside the large main hall. “She doesn’t wear it too often, but she secretly loves it,”

“Okay,” you nodded your head. “Any store in mind?”

“There should be one just around the corner,” he mumbled, directing you around the quite empty mall with large strides. He was right, one of the largest jewelry you had ever seen was right in front of your eyes, the prettiest diamonds being exposed right next to rings and earrings.

“Woah,”

“I know,” was all Jonathan mumbled, dragging you along with him inside the store. You had an employee at your side the moment you walked in, her eyes barely even acknowledging you as she started blabbering about the shop and what they sold, entirely focused on your boss.

“We’re here for a gift, but I think we won’t have trouble looking on our own,” Jon politely said, sending the woman a small smile just as he pulled you close to his side by your waist, making you repress a gasp. The woman left soon after, giving you a once-over right before she went back to walking around the store in search of people to help.

You were struggling to breathe when he released your body, his eyes going to the jewels behind the displays as he kept you close. “I’m sorry about that. She was making me uncomfortable,”

“It’s okay,” was all you were able to mumble, following his gaze on a necklace. “Is she one for necklaces?”

“Not really,”

“Maybe earrings?”

“Yeah, she wears those often,” Jon nodded his head, searching for the displayer with the earrings. “I want something she could wear every day, though,”

“Something simple,” you hummed, your eyes raking around the various pairs of earrings. You came across a pair that looked like white gold in the shape of a flower, tempested with small, white diamonds.

You carefully pointed towards them, your fingers catching Jon’s attention. “Those look pretty,” he mumbled as he called over another shop assistant. “Could we get these out? I want to see them closer,”

The pair was in front of your eyes before you knew it, shining under the warm lights of the store. You had to refrain yourself from letting your eyes widen at the price tag, deciding to let them focus on Jonathan’s expression. “What do you think about them?”

“I think they might be too big to be casual,” was all he mumbled, glancing towards the displayer again to search for something else. “I was also thinking about a bracelet, you know?”

“I’ll go take a look at some of those for you,” you whispered, smiling his way before moving towards the other side of the store, where the bracelets were located. The diamonds and pearls were all staring back at you, begging to be bought as you talked lightly with the shopping assistant.

You didn’t even realize you had been stuck on one specific item until the lady helping you caught your attention. “That’s a Cartier,” she smiled your way. “Simple but classy, they’ve been selling pretty quickly,”

“It’s really beautiful,” you whispered, batting your lashes a few times to push yourself out of your daydream before focusing on the rest of the collections. You were pretty sure Jonathan would like the bracelet you picked out: a small, golden chain with a charm that represented family, also stutted with diamonds.

“Found anything interesting?”

You jumped when you heard Jon’s voice from behind you, his palm finding its place on your smaller back again as he stood by your side. “Thoughts on this one? The charm represents family,”

Jonathan was gentle as he lifted up the jewel, looking at it attentively before smiling your way. “I think we found the one,”

With a smile, you went to take a look at the earrings he had chosen, leaving Jonathan on his own in front of the bracelets. “We’re getting that one,” he mumbled to the shopping assistant, pointing towards the present for his mother. “Was she looking at anything else when she was alone?”

“The young woman?”

Jonathan nodded, hoping the employee could help him out in some ways. He had felt the urge to buy you something from the moment he first saw your eyes sparkle at the sight of the jewels. He knew it was wrong, but he felt like he might have needed it someday: maybe as an apology, or maybe as just a present.

“She was looking at this one,” the woman said, nonchalantly taking out of its displayer the Cartier rose gold bracelet you had been gazing at for minutes.

Just the best way to spoil his girl, he thought. “Add it to the rest, please. And don’t use a separate bag for it,”

“Of course, sir,” the woman smiled, leading him towards the checkout. “I’m sure she’ll love it,”

The two of you left the store soon after he swiped his credit card, heading towards the parking lot in silence. Your time together had come to an end, and you felt weird when the thought of missing him even crossed your mind. He had shown you softness, even regret, throughout the afternoon, and you realized you had gotten to know another part of him. The sensitive part, the part that was in some way asking you to give him another chance.

“I know I fucked up the other day,” Jonathan said when he started the car, the flashbacks of him walking the woman out rising back to life inside your brain. “And I know that you don’t want to talk about it anymore, but I owe you an apology,”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as he kept driving, the city running past your eyes. He was willing to admit his mistakes, but were you going to let him back into your heart?

“Okay,”

He seemed surprised when you answered, but snapped back to reality quickly. “Take a day off, tomorrow,” he said, his eyes finding yours quickly before directing them back to the streets.

“But you have the game, Jon,”

“I want you to come to the game, have some fun,” he said, words authoritative as he kept his eyes trained on the road, your panties dampening just at the tone of his voice. “And then go out for drinks with me after it,”

That was anything but professional, if you thought about it, but was your heart going to stop you? There was nothing holding you back anymore. You took a fast glance at his face, not realizing he had caught you until his eyes met with yours. “Y/N?”

“Okay,”

You suppressed a smile as he drove towards your apartment complex, playing with your fingers in your lap as you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Your usual Friday night was going to take a turn: you weren’t going to watch Jonathan play behind the screen of your TV anymore, and you weren’t going to daydream about him before falling asleep.

Friday night was going to be different, and you knew it.

-----

Friday was calm. The sun was warm on your skin as you read a book on your couch, thankful for a morning off and some time to figure your life out. It had taken you a while to realize just how much you had been ignoring your own mental health, how you really felt, and your day off seemed to be just the perfect way to understand yourself better.

It felt confusing, if you had to be honest. Your heart was more than ready to give itself entirely to Jonathan: to give him your all, to wake up in the morning next to him, to make memories together. Your brain, though, made you feel like it was wrong, almost dirty.

You wanted the two of them to find a solution to all their divergences, to make it easier for you. You couldn’t bear the confusion anymore, staying away from Jon was already hard enough.

Laila’s words replayed themselves in your mind while you took a shower, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. What if you really had feelings for him, though? The way your heartbeat quickened every time he said your name was almost enough to answer your question; the butterflies dancing in your stomach every time you’d feel his touch were so evident you almost laughed at yourself for not realizing it sooner.

The sexual tension, at the same time, was something you clearly couldn’t ignore. You were so sure that it was what it had made you attracted to him in the first place, the warm feeling deep in your stomach, or just the way you were burning for him.

By the time evening rolled around, you felt nervous. You were worried you were dressed correctly for the game, but totally underdressed for drinks; you were worried you were going to make a fool out of yourself, as always, or that you were going to embarrass him.

The doorbell was enough to snap you out of your trance, making you grab your coat and purse in a rush before leaving the apartment building, only to be faced with a black car and a man in a suit. A driver?

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N,” was all the man said, opening the door for the backseat for you in a quick second. “Mr. Toews wasn’t able to drive you, so I’m here to pick you up,”

“Thank you,” you said, holding back the last remnants of shock in you as you slid inside the car. The lights of the city moved past you as you were driven towards the arena in silence, the city looking busy as red and white jerseys packed the sidewalks.

You felt like you were in a movie. Never in your life had you thought you would have been in the backseat of an expensive car, a driver sent by your boss chaperoning you towards the destination.

“Miss, this is your ticket,”

The car had stopped, and you had realized just then that you had reached the arena, your heart starting to leap out of your chest. “Could I stay here a little more?” You asked, voice small as you hoped for a ‘yes’, suddenly overwhelmed with what was going to happen throughout the night.

“Of course, miss,” the man smiled, almost as if he wanted to reassure you everything was going to be okay, like a guardian angel.

Jonathan wanted to apologize to you, that was what was going to happen, nothing more. What were you even worrying about? Pushing all your worries aside, you grabbed your ticket and thanked the driver, following the mass of people towards the entrance of the arena.

You heard multiple excited conversations about the game, both from Blackhawks fans and from Sabres fans. You felt slightly out of place in the crowd of people dressed in red, already holding beers in their hands as they talked, even chanted their team’s name.

You found out just after getting inside the building that you were reserved a spot with the team’s close family members, a lot calmer than the spots near the rink itself. When you walked inside the room, you were met with who you could only guess were some of the player’s parents, but a group of younger women was by far taking over the room.

They were all sporting the team’s jersey, the players’ last names on their backs never repeating on the other girls’ shirts. You silently took a seat, noticing you had the best view of the rink, from the highest spot of the building.

“Newbie?”

Your head snapped to the side to meet with a girl slightly older than you, a smile on her face as she sat next to you. “What?” You asked, slightly confused at her word.

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” she explained. “I’m Amanda, Kane’s girlfriend,”

“Oh, I’m- I’m Y/N, I work for Toews,”

“Oh, so you are new here,” she giggled, shaking your hand softly. “I’ve heard about you,”

“You did?” You asked, holding back a giggle.

“I’ve heard Jon talk about you many times,” Amanda confessed, your heart fluttering at what she said. Jonathan talked about you? “You know, other girlfriends and I are just sticking together for the game. Do you want to join us?”

The offer was given to you quickly, you weren’t even able to process the fact that Jonathan’s friends knew about you, in some kind of way. You were a total stranger to them, and yet, they knew you, they wanted you to join them. “That would be awesome,” you smiled her way. “Thank you,”

When she went back to the group, you glanced down at your phone, sending Jonathan a quick text before, eventually, joining your new companions.

Good luck, Jon :)

-

“Honestly, I’m so happy they won,” Amanda mumbled, looking over the few people in the hallway right before the changing room to see if the team was going to come out soon. “They really deserved it,”

A few noises of agreement came from the rest of the WAGs, the girls you had joined just a few hours prior. “What are your plans tonight, ladies?”

Most of the girls talked about going home, relaxing with their significant other, and enjoying the night; one of the wives mumbled about leaving for a small trip right after being done at the rink, and somebody else talked about going to a club. When you were asked, your cheeks heated up.

“We’re going out for drinks,” you mumbled, nervously playing with your fingers as most of the girls smiled your way.

“And you’re just working for him? Girl, don’t lie to us,” Becca, another girl, pushed your shoulder jokingly.

“What are you ladies mumbling about?” Patrick walked towards your group, wrapping an arm around Amanda’s waist as she giggled. His eyes found yours in a second, scanning your face as a smirk planted itself on his lips. “You’re Y/N, right? Nice to meet you,”

“Hi,” you smiled, your attention quickly snapping towards someone else when a familiar hand settled itself on your smaller back.

“Hey,” Jon said, propping his bag up his shoulder as he looked down at you. “Good evening, ladies,”

The girls barely even answered, too busy with greeting their husbands and boyfriends and congratulating them to actually acknowledge the captain. “Did you have fun?” He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your back, your stomach filling with butterflies all over again.

“Of course I did,” you smiled.

“You busy tonight, Jon?” Patrick asked, snapping the two of you out of your trance. “Drinks at mine?”

“We’re going out,” Jonathan stated, looking at his teammate with a smile. “Next time, I promise,”

You still couldn’t contain the giddy feeling whenever he referred to the two of you as ‘we’, it was something that had always made you so smitten.

“It’s fine, man. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Patrick winked, leaving you just enough time to say goodbye to Amanda before the two were off on their own.

“Shall we go?” Jon asked, his eyes focused on yours as the hallway cleared out around you. With a nod of your head, the two of you were headed off towards his car, reaching in just a few minutes a fancy bar.

The lights inside were dim, and it wasn’t the usual kind of bar filled with bodies and loud music. There were tables, just a few of them occupied by people enjoying their drinks in silence as soft jazz music set the vibe. It was cozy, in some kind of way, even if the place was extremely out of your reach.

A table was reserved for you near one of the ample windows facing a rainy Chicago, the warmth inside the room making you breathe out a sigh of relief. “I like this place,” you said, looking around the room with a smile on your face.

“I’ve been coming here for years, now,” Jon admitted, taking a seat in front of you. “I don’t like normal bars too much, they’re too messy,”

“This place represents you, in some way,” you mumbled, your eyes finding his.

“I guess it does,” was all he mumbled before ordering your drinks, voice firm as he talked to the waitress. You were sure he couldn’t see the way she was looking at him, heart-eyed as she scribbled down the drinks as best as she could, it was almost funny.

When she left you to yourselves, silence built between you. You were more than nervous, to say the least, and he seemed to be in his thoughts, in his own world. He clearly was snapped out of his trance when your drinks were slipped in front of you.

“Y/N, I just wanted to apologize for everything,” he spoke, looking at the liquid inside his glass quickly before letting his eyes meet yours. “I never thought things would go like that, I even tried to hold myself back, but I didn’t make it,”

“It’s okay, Jon,” you whispered, playing with the rim of your glass as you tried to find some words to say. “I have to apologize too, what I did was anything but professional,”

“Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you. “If it wasn’t for me, things would have been normal, now,”

You stared at him for a moment, his dark eyes holding yours as you tried to not mutter out what you had been thinking about for ages, your body shaking in anticipation as you played with your fingers.

“I don’t want them to be normal, though,” you whispered with your last ounce of courage, shocking your own self as you bit on your lip. He looked at you in silence, making it hard for you to understand what he was feeling. “I wish you knew how I feel whenever you touch me, or when you say my name, Jon,”

There was a beat before he spoke, his voice firm after taking a sip of his drink. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,”

“I want you to make me yours, even if it’s just for one night,” you breathed out, holding eye contact as you said your next words. “Even if it might not work,”

He adjusted himself on his chair, biting on his bottom lip as his pupils dilated, giving you a once over. “Don’t play with fire, sweetheart,”

“Am not,” your voice was coated with lust as his hand traveled up your thigh with anything but hesitance. “You can take me home if you want me, Captain,”

He held your eyes for another moment, downing his whiskey before standing up, dropping a bill on the table. “Stand up,” was all he said, voice dark as he looked down at you. You fell into your submissive character as soon as his voice became authoritative, automatically jumping to your feet and following him out of the bar, the cold rain falling on your face.

The drive was silent, filled with tension as Jonathan went over the speed limit, the streets empty. His hand was on your thigh, too close to your center to even make you think straight. Everything was going too fast, but you didn’t care anymore.

Were the few sips of alcohol making you intoxicated, or was it Jon? Was it the strong scent of his cologne, the touch of his hand on your skin, his dark eyes?

His grip on your thigh tightened when he parked the car inside his garage, his eyes meeting yours for a long moment before he finally leaned in, over the console, and kissed you.

His lips were softer than you could remember, but there wasn’t anything soft about the way he was kissing you, grabbing you to pull you over his lap. You were eager to see where things were going to head, curious to explore more of him, and he was feeling the same way.

As his tongue caressed yours, his hands found their way towards your ass, pushing your center even closer to his growing bulge. You bit his bottom lip to suppress a moan, your hands dropping to his chest to undo his already messy tie.

He pulled away to breathe in some air, his lips ghosting over the skin of your neck as he grazed your throat with his teeth, shivers running down your spine. “Jon-”

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he said, voice dark as he threw his undone tie in the backseat. His hand dipped inside your jeans, tracing over your panties as he kept eye contact. “Tell the world who makes you feel good,”

“Jon-” you moaned again, head thrown back as he grasped your neck to pull you closer again, letting his lips find yours for another heated kiss, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

“Let’s head inside, baby,” was all he grumbled against your lips, hands on your thighs as he opened the car door. You whined, not wanting the moment to end, which made his voice darken even more. “Don’t be a brat. I’m not fucking you in my car on our first time. I’m better than that,”

You had to hold back a moan as he carefully exited the car, holding your body in his arms as he expertly walked towards the elevator, his mouth on yours. You were so lost in him you barely even registered your back hitting his comforter a few minutes later, his body hovering over yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to have you like this,” he grumbled in your ear, breathing heavily as he pushed your shirt over your head, your bra following along. “Under me, at my mercy,”

His words, followed by his lips on your breasts, made the coil inside your stomach tighten. He felt so close, so real. You realized you weren’t on your own, in your room late at night, taking care of all the pent-up tension anymore. Jonathan Toews - the man who had been the center of your world for months, the man who had kept you up at night ever since he had first laid eyes on you - was on top of you, finally giving life to every fantasy of yours, and probably also of his.

His touch wasn’t as soft as it used to be anymore, his hands roughly moving from your sides to the button of your jeans, opening it in a rush as his lips found your skin again. His fingers ghosted over your heat, making you moan out a curse.

“Jon, don’t stop,” you breathed out, his lips kissing their way down to your navel. He was faced with your heat in a second, his hands pushing your underwear down your legs. You had to suppress a whine when the cold air of his room hit your heated core, your walls contracting around nothing as he let the pad of his index finger trace your slit.

“Look at you,” he whispered, licking his lips as he watched you quiver under his mere touch. “So drenched for me,”

He placed kisses on your inner thighs, teasing you just right as you whimpered under his touch, your fingers grasping his hair just when he finally let his mouth find your center. He was eager to learn what ticked you off, what made you feel good, what you needed to come off the edge. He had wanted to know for so long.

Jonathan sucked your clit in his mouth, the strangled moan that left your lips being enough to make his pants tighten even more. His tongue slid down to your entrance, his strong arms holding your waist down when you tried to follow his movements, to get some relief.

“Don’t make me tie you down, sweetheart,” was all he said, voice deep as his eyes bore deep into yours, sending you into a state of submission. When he dipped down again, he kept eye contact, his humming against your heat almost bringing you over the edge.

His tongue was making you feel stars, touching places you didn’t even know could make you feel so weak. He knew what he was doing, and he took pride in it. By the time one of his fingers slid inside of you, you were a moaning mess, everything inside your body screaming at you to let go.

Jon was attentive, keeping his eyes on you to see just how good he was making you feel, just how easily he could work you over the edge. But, just as you were about to give in and let the orgasm take over you, he stopped his movements, his lips kissing their way up your body again.

“Want to take it slow,” he whispered in your ear teasingly, biting your lobe and letting you know you weren’t going to leave the bed anytime soon. His mouth was on yours again, your taste on his lips making you moan.

Your hands were quick at undoing the buttons of his white, neatly ironed, shirt; your fingers didn’t hesitate when they touched the newfound skin of his chest, so warm and soft it made you melt.

His pants were off in a second, thrown in a corner of the room as his lips stayed on yours. You didn’t think you’d be able to separate after the night, after finally giving in and letting yourselves get close.

You were eagerly palming his cock over his boxers, ready to push yourself to your knees and give him what he had been thinking about for months. His hand gripped your wrists tightly just when you were about to push his undergarments down his thighs, your eyes snapping up to his when he shook his head. “Tonight’s about you, sweet girl,” he whispered, letting his free hand card through your already messy hair before giving it a firm tug. “On your hands and knees,”

His authoritative voice had always made you oh so desperate for him, and that time, it wasn’t any different. You were positioned in the middle of the bed as quickly as you could, your ass up in the air as he explored your body with his eyes.

“So pretty for me,” he muttered, discarding his boxers before making his way towards you. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him as he leaned down to kiss your spine. “Beg for it, baby girl,”

“Please, Jon-” you whined, burying your face in his pillows, completely at his mercy. “Please, fuck me,”

The chuckle that left his body was enough to make you clench around air again, the shameless moan that exited your mouth getting muffled by the soft material of his pillows. “So desperate,” he unexpectedly slid his length inside of you, the stretch making chills run down your spine as a string of curses left his lips.

“Fuck- so tight for me, sweetheart,” he breathed out, his hips stuttering for a quick second before he started to thrust into you, the sound of his hips smacking against your ass harshly filling the room.

His thrusts were quick, his skin slapping against yours rhythmically as you moaned loudly. One of his hands gripped your hair, pulling your head away from his pillows, the sting of his pulling sending pleasure to your clit.

“I want to hear every single moan,” he grumbled in your ear, his punishing pace sending you into subspace as your high neared again, your legs struggling to keep the rest of your body up. He could feel your walls constricting around him, making his own pleasure even more evident as he tried to keep his cool.

Your moans became louder again when you started to tip over the edge, but you were denied your orgasm again when Jon pulled his cock out of you, gently handling you around.

You found yourself on your back, legs spread for him as he tapped his cock against your overstimulated entrance, a smirk on his face as he entered you again. “Want you to look at me when I make you cum, sweetheart,”

His words had you whimpering, your eyes closing as he moved inside of you, the new angle making you feel even better. His hand slipped down your body, reaching your clit and teasing it as he kept his bruising pace.

“Jon- Jon I’m going to cum,” you breathed out, your legs wrapping around his middle as they slightly shook, holding him closer to you.

“Look at me,” he said, his fingers on your clit speeding up. “I said, look at me, Y/N,”

You let your eyes meet his as your orgasm made your body shake, a shout of his name leaving your mouth as your walls convulsed around his cock. You were breathing harshly as he helped you ride your high, his hips snapping quickly against yours as he held back groans.

He pulled out quickly, coming all over your stomach with a loud groan as you tried to gain back your breathing, your eyes struggling to stay open. The room sat in silence as he left the bed, only to come back a few minutes later to clean you up.

He took care of the cum on your stomach, gently cleaning it with a wet towel before going back to his position between your thighs. “You did so good for me, tonight,” he whispered, hushing your whines when the towel touched your sensitive skin. “Such a good girl,”

“I probably should go,” you mumbled sleepily, trying to push yourself out of his bed only to be interrupted by his voice.

“Stay the night, Y/N. Please,”

“Jon-”

“Please,” he repeated, taking a seat next to your laying body on his bed. His eyes were scanning your face for any kind of discomfort as he let his hand card through your hair, the moment of softness making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

As you looked up at him, you found yourself realizing just where you were, just where you were laying. Your eyes really met his bedroom for the first time at that moment, noticing every single small piece of him that was resting inside the place that he found most personal, the place he barely let people in.

He was sharing it with you, the part of him that most people barely even knew.

He slid with you under the covers, pulling your body close to his as his eyes found yours. He pushed a strand of stray hair away from your face, his other hand drawing shapes on your smaller back.

“What are we doing, Jon?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he whispered, his hand cupping your cheek as he sighed out. Silence settled between you as you tried to figure out what was happening between the two of you, if your relationship had changed, but his voice filled the room again. “You know, I was in need of release after you ran away, that night,” he mumbled, his fingers toying with the ends of your curls. “There wasn’t a moment where I wasn’t thinking about you, when I was with that girl. It was a mistake-”

“Jon, please, stop it,” you whispered, looking up at him with a small smile. “I accept your apology,”

Your words seemed to put him at peace, at least for the night, and he pulled you even closer. “Get some rest, we’ll talk in the morning,” he whispered, tenderly kissing the top of your head as you cuddled on his side. Your body was tired, but your heart was beating quickly against your ribcage at how your night had ended.

Not only did you have the best sex of your life with the man you had been wishing for ever since day one, but you also found yourself cuddling by his side, his warm body pressed against yours. The question that left your lips was slurred by sleep, but you needed to know, you needed to know if it wasn’t going to end just so soon.

“Will you be there when I wake up?”

There was a beat after you said your words, his hand carding your hair one more time as he smiled.

“Of course I will,”

-

“Good morning,”

The whispered greeting had you slowly waking up, the warmth of Jon’s body close to yours making you breathe out a sigh of fondness. “Hey,”

“How did you sleep?” the man beside you asked, voice still sleepy as he played with your bed hair. You had to repress a giggle at his question, hiding your face in his chest as you mumbled out your answer.

“Like a baby,”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you as the other held his phone, his eyes focused on the screen. “Plans for the day?”

“You have to meet up with your coach this afternoon,” you said, your fingers drawing shapes on his naked chest. “What time is it?”

“Nine,”

“Jon, you’re late to practice,” you scolded him with a sigh, rolling your eyes when he shrugged.

“Everybody needs a day off,” he said, making a chuckle leave your mouth. “I’ll go grab us breakfast, don’t fall back asleep without me,”

A peck was placed on your lips as Jon left the bed, your body missing his warmth after just a few seconds of being apart. You looked at the ceiling as you took in the events of the previous night, well-accustomed to the butterflies in your stomach.

You had to refrain yourself from clenching your legs at the flashbacks from the late-night activities, instead biting on your bottom lip as you remembered just how good it felt to be touched by Jonathan.

His hands on your skin, his mouth on your body, his eyes locked with yours.

You weren’t ready to leave him, though. You weren’t ready to forget about the night the two of you had spent together, to name it ‘just a one-night stand’. You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, to scold him when he was late, to spend endless nights talking about your lives after some good sex, and to be his. That was what you wanted.

You settled on getting ready as best as you could, taking a quick shower and throwing on his discarded button-up from the previous night, his cologne invading your nostrils as soon as the expensive material slid over your skin.

You heard the front door shutting after you had just made yourself comfortable in the kitchen, your laptop opened in front of your eyes as Jonathan put the coffees on the table. “Got bagels. Is it okay?”

“More than okay,” you smiled, your eyes meeting his as you took a sip from your cup. “I hope me taking a quick shower wasn’t a problem,”

“Not at all,” he smiled, seemingly noticing your outfit just then, as he leaned against the kitchen counter while he took a bite of his food. His eyes roamed your figure for a long while, your cheeks becoming quite heated as you kept your gaze on your computer screen. “You look good in my clothes,”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find my clothes from last night,” you whispered, biting on your lip as you avoided his eye contact.

“That shirt looks better on you anyway,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he peeked at your laptop. “What do you have to do, today?”

“Just picking up some clothes at the dry and clean,” you mumbled, taking a bite out of your bagel. “Oh, I also need to pick up some packages,”

“I’ll come with you,” he mumbled, letting his hands squeeze your waist quickly before going back to stand against the kitchen counter. Your heart was beating against your ribcage as you tried to act unbothered, one of your hands running through your hair.

“You have other stuff to do, Jon,” you sighed, turning around to face him.

“Don’t care,” he smirked, his thumb and index finger grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. His lips ghosted over yours teasingly as you struggled to breathe, the warmth in your stomach invading your entire body. “The world can wait a little more,”

-----

Huffing as you walked around the halls of the United Center, you were trying to hold all your stress under control. It was a stressful day for Jon and you, probably the most stressful day the two of you had ever had, and things had been going okay.

Well, they had been going okay until Jonathan was nowhere to be seen after morning practice, your busy schedule being put on hold as you scanned through every room inside the building anxiously.

He had a meeting, a very important one, in fact. Coaches, PR teams and the most important people of the Blackhawks were all finding themselves in one room to discuss important business, and the captain just couldn’t be late.

His coach had mumbled something about him being extremely distracted during the previous weeks, his head going elsewhere whenever it was possible, and it didn’t take a while for you to realize it was because of you.

It had been a few weeks ever since the night, and you were confused, to say the least. You felt as if you had gone back in time, when all the two of you could share was teasing touches, deep eye contact, and sexual tension. Why were you two playing hard to get?

The large doors of the dressing room snapped you out of your thoughts, your heart hammering against your chest as you wondered whether it was a good idea or not to actually search for him inside. It probably was an invasion of privacy, right?

You almost squealed in fear when the doors opened, revealing one of Jon’s teammates, a beaten-up look on his face as his eyes met yours. “Can I help you?”

“I, uh- is Jonathan in there?” You asked nervously, sighing in relief when the younger guy nodded his head absentmindedly. “Thank you,”

He muttered something under his breath as he walked away, leaving you to open the doors to the changing room in silence. You were faced with emptiness, just the faint sounds of shuffling entering your ears as you looked around the room.

“Jonathan?”

“Ah, just who I wanted to see,”

His face sported a smirk when he walked towards the main hall of the room, dressed in only one of his extremely tight thermal shirts and a pair of boxers. He was hot, and he knew it; hell, he even took pride in it, you were sure.

“Missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close to his body. You seemed to snap back to your thoughts - too busy admiring his Adonis-like body - just then, looking up at him with a stern look.

“Jonathan, you’ve got a meeting to attend,” you said, pushing against his chest to get him away from you. “And you’re so fucking late for it,”

“You’re hot when you’re pissed off,” he mumbled, dipping his head to your shoulder to press a line of kisses over your blouse, his fingers playing with the hem of your skirt. “Everyone was looking at your ass, sweetheart. Did you know that?”

You closed your eyes as his kisses trailed up your neck, reaching your sweet spot in just a few seconds. You felt in heaven, so deeply pushed into a lust-filled trance by just his mouth as you forgot what was happening outside, what you needed to do. “Had to kick all their asses to get their eyes off of you,”

His possessiveness was sending jolts to your core, his touch so teasing yet so pleasurable as he pressed another coat of kisses down your neck. His hands slid to your ass as he let his body drop down on one of the benches, your legs straddling his waist.

“Jonathan, the meeting starts in ten minutes and you don’t even have a suit on,” you scolded him as best as you could, his fingers undoing the first few buttons of your shirt.

“Just enough time to fuck you,” he whispered against your lips, his mouth on yours a second later as his hands were already pushing your underwear to the side to tease your drenched center. “So wet for me this early in the morning, baby girl?”

You let out a shaky moan as his thumb played with your clit, the pleasure too strong to pull yourself away from him. “We’ve got to be quick, Jon,” Your hands dropped to his bulge, pushing his boxers out of the way as he aligned his cock with your entrance, ignoring your sentence.

“So needy for me,” he muttered, his cock sliding against your walls smoothly as you moaned out his name, your hands tightly gripping his shoulders. To say you were a little surprised to have sex with him for the second time inside the United Center’s dressing room was an understatement, but everything felt just too good to make it end.

“Here we go, sweetheart,” he whispered, nipping on your earlobe as his hands helped you rock your hips against his, a sharp moan leaving your lips at the stretch. A few groans left his mouth when you picked up the pace, one of his hands dropping to your clit as he relished in the pleasure.

“Jon-” you moaned, your head lulling back as he kissed your neck, his teeth leaving a love bite on your skin. He knew it was something he shouldn’t have done, that marking was for kids, but he wanted the world to know you were his, even if he didn’t have the balls to make you his.

He seemed to be pushed in a trance as you speeded up even more, trying to chase your high and bring him to his as quickly as possible, time clicking. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as the pleasure became too much.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he spoke, voice sweet as he let his lips find yours again. “Milk my cock, baby,”

Your eyes locked with his as you came, mouth opened in a silent moan as your cunt clenched around his length, bringing him unbelievably close to his orgasm. You kept moving on top of him as best as you could, your sensitive pussy making you whine.

“I gotta cum, sweetheart,” he groaned in your ear, subtly telling you he needed to pull out. Your cheeks, as heated as they already were, seemed to burn even more as you whispered your next words, hiding your face from him.

“I’m on the pill,”

“Fuck- shit-” he muttered under his breath, the thought of being able to cum inside of you sending him over the edge, his abs clenching as he released against your walls. You caught your breaths together, his forehead leaning against yours after he pecked your lips gently.

Your eyes dropped to your watch, noticing you had just a few minutes before the start of the meeting, another curse leaving your lips. “Jon, you better get yourself ready,” you said, pulling yourself away from his body to fix yourself up.

You were hoping it wasn’t too evident that you had just fucked with your boss inside the dressing rooms as you made your way towards the doors, ready to leave.

“Y/N?”

You turned around to face Jonathan, who was messily trying to put on the tailored suit you loved on him. “What?”

There was a beat of silence as he pulled on his slacks, sending you a quick look. “The team is hosting this gala, next weekend,” he mumbled, cheeks rosy as he avoided your eye contact. “I was wondering if you wanted to come along?”

“Are you asking me out, Jon?” You giggled, biting on your bottom lip.

“I’m trying to,” he huffed. “You obviously don’t have to, if you-”

“Yes,”

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll be your date,” you giggled, tugging him close to you by the collar of his shirt to kiss him, your body relaxing against his. When you pulled back, a smile was resting on his lips, your heart beating out of your chest. “Now, get ready. There’s a meeting we have to be at,”

-----

You were so fucked.

The Cartier bracelet was on your wrist, shining under the lights of your apartment as you touched up your makeup, stomach churning nervously. You had come home to a couple of boxes on your bed, well-known names printed on top of them, and you were shocked, to say the least.

The material of your dress - a classy, black cocktail dress - was soft against your skin, and you were trying to refrain yourself from looking it up and check the price tag. The bracelet had been your breaking point, your eyes tearing up at the sight of the rose gold accessory you had found yourself admiring more than a month prior.

It felt strange to get spoiled by someone, you were going to be honest.

You heard the faint knock just as you were slipping on a dark pair of stilettos, your lips pulling into a smile as you opened the door, your eyes falling onto your date. He seemed speechless as he gave your body a once-over, his eyes softening at your smile.

“You look stunning, sweetheart,” he said, voice gentle as he tried to tear his eyes off of you. His hand slipped into yours, pushing it up to his lips to leave a lingering kiss on your skin, his eyes finding just later the bracelet he had given you.

“Thank you, Jon,” you whispered, cheeks heating up at his comment. He was looking better than ever in his all-black suit, matching your outfit perfectly, and it was hard for you to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bait.

“We should head out, I know you hate being late,” Jon mumbled, his eyes still not leaving you as you locked the front door behind yourself, his body close to yours. He led you out of the building with a gentle arm around your waist, nothing but warmth filling your chest as he helped you inside the car.

You were in silence as the driver moved the car around the city, directed towards the venue, Jon’s hand staying firmly on your thigh. You had so much on your mind, so much keeping you in your thoughts, and Jon seemed to notice.

“What’s happening in that pretty head of yours, darling?” He whispered, the palm on your thigh moving to grasp your hand.

“You- you bought me all this stuff and-”

“This is my way of saying thank you,” he whispered, smiling your way as the car came to a halt. “I actually bought the Cartier when we were shopping for my mom’s presents,”

Your eyebrows scrunched as you chuckled, giving him a shocked look as he helped you out of the vehicle. “Really?”

“Yeah,”

“You never told me if your mother liked the gifts,” you whispered as the two of you walked inside the venue, your arms linked together as people smiled your way.

“She did,” he stated, greeting one of his teammates with a nod of his head. “She loved the bracelet more than I thought she would,”

You smiled proudly, waving excitedly towards Amanda when her eyes caught yours. “God, Y/N, you look so beautiful tonight!” She squealed, pulling you in a hug as Patrick and Jon talked, her hands gentle on your skin as she took a good look at you.

You thanked her shyly, leaning against Jon’s side as your attention was pushed towards the center of the room, where they were announcing the start of the gala. You were introduced to various people throughout the night - shaking hands, hugging wives and girlfriends, even waving to some little kids - and you felt quite tired when you found yourself in the middle of a makeshift dance floor, your arms wrapped around Jonathan’s neck.

He seemed to be in his thoughts, his touch warm on your skin as the two of you messily swayed to the music, your eyes closing. “What are you thinking about, Jon?”

“It’s complicated, sweetheart,” he whispered, sighing when your head found its place on his shoulder.

“Tell me about it, I’m willing to listen,”

He chuckled, his thumb drawing shapes on your back as he tried to find the words, the courage, to tell you he was in love with you. He hadn’t felt like that in ages, so whipped for someone, so willing to give them the world, if they asked. It felt scary, he had never fallen in love that quickly for anyone before, but something in him told him you weren’t a mistake. You were the one.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he mumbled, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. “And I truly can’t get you out of my mind, in any way I try. You’re my constant thought, no matter where I am or who I am with.

“I wake up every morning, and the first person I see is you. When I come home, you’re there to ask about my day, always smiling,” your body stopped swaying as you listened to his words, the world surrounding you stopping as you focused on the moment. “You’re who I want to see every moment of the day, you’re who I want to wake up next to, and who I want to gift flowers to on Valentine’s day.

“You’re who I want to vent to, and who I want to spend lazy afternoons with. I’ve made mistakes, Y/N, and you’ve always been there to help me through it, to accept my apologies,”

“Jon-” tears were coating your eyes as you realized where he was heading, your heart fluttering.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks as his eyes stared deeply into yours, softness in his voice. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and it’s scary,”

“I love you, too, Jonathan,” you whispered, your forehead resting against his as you bit your lip. “So much,”

He didn’t seem to care that you were in the middle of a room filled with people, his eyes were gentle as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss you had never experienced before, so full of passion and love.

He pulled you closer to his body as he kissed you again, his gentle hand keeping your face close to his by the jaw as he showed you all his love in just one kiss. When you pulled apart, you didn’t care about the people staring at you and him, or the hushed whispers that they were sharing. You just leaned your forehead against his again, catching your breaths in silence as a giggle erupted from your mouth.

“Be mine, baby,” he whispered, smiling down at you. “My one and only,”

“I’m yours, Jon,”

Taglist: @thirstyybitch @bellaguarneri @boqvistsbabe @trashforbarzal @captaindaddies @keithseabrook27

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 1

Peter Parker x reader

A/N: This is some type of wish fulfillment writing for me because I like to imagine becoming a hot and badass superhero when I fall asleep and I thought other people may be entertained as well :) If you enjoy it, like or reblog to share!

REMINDER: in this story, the reader gains superpowers and I do describe the appearance of her body. i hope you know every body is a superhero body and weight does not impact your beauty at all-i just needed to show how drastic the changes were!

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, attempted kidnapping, guns/violence

The sun that came beaming through your window brightly as you opened the blinds in your room immediately brought a small smile to your face. Summer had always been your favorite season. As smart as you were, a three month break from Midtown has never sounded better. Junior year had not been easy for you.

Small goosebumps appear on your arms as you shiver when the memory of that night crosses your mind.

***

You’d been walking home after your first day of school, distracted as images of the day flicker through your mind. The first day was always exciting, new classes and people. Probably why you were too distracted to notice the man creeping up behind you until he wrapped his hands around your backpack and yanked it off of your back, making you let out a yelp of surprise.

Or, he’d tried to. Unfortunately, this dumb ass criminal didn’t know how backpack straps work and when he tugged, the straps caught around your arms and yanked you off your feet, slamming your body into your attacker with a groan.

Panic immediately clouded your mind. You’d never been mugged before. You try desperately to remember anything from the self defense class you’d taken in seventh grade. The attacker seemed surprised that your bag hadn’t slid off your body and this gave you the opportunity to scream. “Help!” You shrieked. “Somebody!” It was the middle of the day in New York and yet, the street you were walking was dead empty.

“Shut the fuck up.” The man growled in your ear and you suddenly became aware of his death grip on your arm. Before you could contemplate punching him in the face or kneeing his dick, a sharp poke on your arm made you whip your head, just in time to see a needle full of glowing blue liquid being injected into your arm by the man. He hadn’t wanted your backpack at all.

The shock you felt as you watched the unfamiliar substance enter your body was amplified at the burning sensation quickly spreading from the injection site to your whole upper arm. The man lets out a harsh laugh, and you finally turn to see his face. He did not look like a homeless man. Or a thief. The sight of his groomed beard and expensive jacket made you feel like you’d been plunged in ice. What the hell was happening?

“What did you do to me?” The sound of your voice is much stronger than you expect it to be, and it helps to ease a couple of the butterflies going mental inside your stomach. At least you didn’t sound terrified. He just lets out a low laugh and begins to drag you by your backpack towards a car parked on the opposite side of the road you hadn’t noticed until now.

“You’re coming with me.”

The burning had spread to your entire left arm and was now taking over your left shoulder. If you didn’t have adrenaline coursing through your veins due to your current situation, you would’ve been doubled over with pain. You struggle against the man’s hold on your backpack as he drags you closer to the large black SUV.

Hell no. I am not getting kidnapped today. You force yourself to calm enough to quickly think of a plan. Any plan. When the man reaches the car despite your struggling, a disgusting sneer on his face, he lets go of his grip on your arm to reach for the handle, and you take your chance to head-butt him as hard as you possibly can-letting your arms slide out of the backpack as you do.

“Ow! Get back here you little bitch!” But it’s too late. In the two seconds when the man doubles over to clutch at his head, you’d snatched your backpack from the ground where he’d let it fall and sprinted down the street. You try to tell yourself that the unbearable burning sensation now settling into your chest is from running, not from whatever the fuck he’d injected you with.

***

A loud beep, beep from the clock on your bedside table snaps you out of reminiscing on your near death experience and a large smile grows on your face. Finally it was 5 p.m, the time when your mom usually went over to her boyfriend’s apartment across town. Every night, like clockwork, since you were 13.

It used to bother you, but now the silence gives you the opportunity to do what you needed to do alone. You get up and move towards your closet as you let your mind slip into your memories again as you reminisce on the events after the attack.

***

You’d run home like hell and had never been so grateful to find that your mom had left early. Within ten minutes, the burning had spread and you were left to writhe around in pain on your bed for hours. There was no let up, no break. You knew you were going to die.

Whatever the man had injected in you was breaking apart every muscle, every atom in your body so slowly that you could feel it. Eventually, your pained screams became quieter as exhaustion began to take over. This is it. I’m really going to die. My mom is going to come home and find me like this-

Before you could finish your thought, a harsh gasp involuntarily left your mouth and you launch forward to sit up. Okay, maybe I’m not going to die. You thought as the pain suddenly ceases. You slowly bring your hands up to stare at them, scared that the pain will return. Just as you’re about to let out a breath of relief, it hits you again.

And it’s so much worse. The burning sensation shoots through your body, and every broken muscle and molecule felt as though it was being bound together again. The minutes bleed together as exhaustion and pain take over your body.

***

Looking back, you still have no idea what was in the injection. All you know is what happened because of it.

***

Beep, beep.

Beep, beep.

BEEP, BEEP.

The incessant beeping of your stupid alarm wakes you from quite possibly the weirdest dream you’ve ever had. You’ve never had pain in a dream feel so vivid before, and the memory alone draws your body inwards, hugging your arms in for comfort.

Your arms. Hold on.

They didn’t feel like this last night. You glance down at your skin, the shadow of your blanket making it hard to see. You rip the covers off and storm over to your full length mirror-and all you can do is let out a gasp. I’m going crazy.

With shaking hands, you grab your phone and unlock it, scrolling until you find a mirror selfie you had taken at the pool over summer, just two weeks ago. You glance at the photo, then back up at the mirror. Then at the photo, then the mirror. Photo, mirror, photo.

A shocked laugh rips through your lips as you stare at the photo of yourself. Smooth skin and curves. A couple extra pounds of baby fat you had yet to lose, a spot or three of acne on your forehead. You weren’t an extraordinarily insecure person, but you were a teenage girl and a couple of those things had bugged you but-

Your eyes flicker up to the mirror. You run your hands along your arms. You used to describe them as flabby, but you can feel and see the toned, tight skin. You move your eyes to your boobs. Were they bigger? They definitely looked bigger.

Any “baby fat” you carried had seemingly disappeared overnight. You slowly lift your shirt and let your jaw drop, running your hands over your small waist, not missing the muscle you can feel under your skin. Your skin was perfectly clear and your hair and lashes both seemed longer and healthier.

When you were younger and more naive, you’d hoped puberty would involve waking up one morning looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. But that was stupid. Things like that don’t happen, right?

Slowly, the events of yesterday began to register in your mind. The attack, the injection, the pain. A million questions flooded your mind. The most prominent being what the actual fuck??

“Y/n? You almost ready to leave for school?” Your mom’s voice rings out into your silent room as she knocks on your bedroom door.

“Yeah, Mom! Just a couple minutes.” You call out nervously, waiting until you hear her footsteps walk away from your door. You let out a curse as you race into the bathroom, the harsh lighting illuminating even more changes to your face.

Your lips were bigger, your eyes more open, and your cheekbones and jaw more defined. Fuck. If you weren’t so worried about anyone noticing your overnight transformation, you would’ve taken more time to think about the positives of this situation.

You were always shy and quiet at school, choosing a small group of people to hang around and mostly focusing on your classes. But every teenage girl dreams of being beautiful, and now you finally were. You pull your hair up to brush your teeth and wash your face faster than you ever have before, electing to ignore the fact that you should have a nasty bruise from your head-butt yesterday.

You choose to skip makeup completely, knowing it would draw more attention to your new face. You took one last look at your body in the mirror before pulling on the baggiest sweats you owned and a loose hoodie, hoping they would mask your new curves.

You had no idea how you were supposed to hide this all year.

***

You smiled as you remember how silly you’d acted the next day. You were overly paranoid, covering your face with your hoodie as much as you could and choosing to sit alone in the library rather than at your usual table. No one questioned you, not once.

You had felt a pang of loneliness at first, knowing that no one at your school even cared enough to notice the obvious change had hurt just a bit, but it made dealing with the powers easier.

***

You’d first noticed it on the walk to school. It was barely September and the summer sun was still coming down on the city. This paired with your heavy layers of clothing and the long walk to school would normally leave you slightly breathless. As you arrived at the school feeling more energized and alive than ever, you noticed you’d gotten there in a fourth of your normal time without even trying.

You next noticed it in gym, when the daily pushups the teachers forced you all to do every year were suddenly easy. Effortless. As soon as the final bell rang, you ran home within minutes without feeling winded at all and winced as you threw your door open, nearly ripping it off it’s hinges.

Something else was definitely going on. Your appearance was not the only thing that seemed to go through an upgrade. You said a quick hello to your mom before running up to your room.

For the first time since you woke up that morning, you relaxed once your door was closed and locked. Your shoulders release as you sink to your bed, dropping your head into your hands. You try to recall anything you’ve read about people being totally changed after some sort of injection.

Your heart sinks. Captain America jumps to mind. The Winter Soldier, Wanda Maximoff and her dead brother. They’d all been injected.

You bite your lip and glance at a book sitting on your bedside table. You straighten up and thrust your hands towards the book, trying to make it move. Unsurprisingly, nothing happens. You close your eyes and breath out a small breath of relief. Ok so I’m beautiful now and have great endurance, at least I’m not a superhero. You let yourself relax slightly, your eyes still closed. Now you feel dumb for throwing your hands around like some kind of knock off Scarlet Witch.

When you open your eyes, your blood runs cold. The book is floating in front of you, a blue glow surrounding it. Slowly, you raise your, now shaking, hands again towards the book until they flash with the same blue and it launches towards you, the force of it making you rock back as you catch it in your hands.

Well. Fuck.

***

After that, you were thankful that no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. You bite down a smile as you remember the first few months after, thinking about how much you’d changed since then.

***

You spent nearly every night for weeks studying every superhero fight video you could find on youtube and practicing the moves alone in your empty house, over and over.

It didn’t take much for you to perfect them as your new body seemed to be built for this kind of shit. Black Widow was your favorite to watch, and you made sure to spend extra time working through her signature moves, letting the flips, kicks, and punches become muscle memory.

You spent time practicing your real powers as well, though those seemed to come to you naturally. After that first delay with the book, it had almost felt like second nature to lift up the heaviest objects in your house with just a wave of the hand, but still, you practiced. Over and over and over. You quickly learned you could move people as well, namely yourself. Flying over New York in the middle of the night was something that would always leave you breathless.

Once winter settled over New York, you decided you were finally ready to try and use your abilities for good. You had near perfect control over your “magic” and you were pretty sure you’d spent more hours in the past month punching the air than sleeping.

You spent all day Sunday bent over the dusty sewing machine you dug out of a shelf in your kitchen closet. The trip to Joann’s reminded you of your mother teaching a younger you how to sew, though you two never bought yards of spandex to make a skin tight suit.

It had taken a couple minutes for you to remember how to use the machine, but you were extremely proud of the final product. You’d made a simple skin tight black suit with a zipper up the front and a mask to cover most of your face, but you figured no one could recognize you by just your mouth.

Once you finished the last hem on your face mask, you took the suit and the mask and hid them in your closet next to a pair of black combat boots. You put the dusty machine away and finally made your way into your bathroom, glancing nervously at the box on the counter.

Although you had exactly zero friends at Midtown, you had grown up with some of these kids and you couldn’t risk one of them recognizing your hair color if they saw you in your superhero suit and the box advertising temporary spray on hair color seemed to be the perfect solution.

You take the small can out of the box and spray blonde-ish highlights into your hair and brush it through until your long hair is shades lighter than your natural color and you’re happy with the results.

Your hands shook as you pulled on your suit, then your mask, and finally, the black boots. You move to your mirror and nervously give yourself a glance, only to be pleasantly surprised. You really do look like a superhero, even more so when you will your hands to glow blue with your powers.

***

That night, you learned that you had severely underestimated yourself. You thought memories of your own attack would flash before your eyes every time you knocked down a criminal, but it didn’t.

Every time you would wrap your thighs around someone’s neck to drag them to the ground you felt strong and every time the person you just saved would begin to thank you aggressively, you knew you made the right decision to help people.

You kept your guard, and your hood, up during the school days but your months of training and now your late night rescues, had caused a spike in your confidence. After a particularly hard 18 vs. 1 fight in which your zipper had gotten yanked down a bit, you just left it. It looked better like that anyway.

You wished you had someone to show the new you. You used to be so unsure of yourself, and now because of a seemingly random attack, you had the ability to help people. It definitely felt good to be doing something good.

Unfortunately, your endeavors started to become sensationalized. New York was obsessed with superheroes, you knew this. But you never thought people would start paying attention to you.

You should’ve known better. A girl with enhanced curves in a skin tight suit, flying around the city with glowing blue hands and fighting crime with her front zipper pulled down, and you thought you could remain invisible in the media too?

Luckily for you, the spotlight was cast upon another new superhero around the same time-a Spiderman. Once he entered the superhero scene just weeks after yourself, you noticed the articles you’d previously seen sexualizing you and your costume turned into articles about the two of you instead. If only those reporters knew you were 17.

You were thankful for him even though you’d never met him, and your two names “Spiderman and Sapphire” were often used in the same headlines to discuss you two newcomers.

At first you hated the nickname the media gave you simply because of the increased attention, but you learned to love it. It was nice to see people appreciating what you were doing, even though every camera that was ever pointed your way made you anxious to protect your identity.

Ever since your first winter night spent fighting crime, you’d quickly fallen into a pattern. School with your eyes glued to your desk the whole time, sweats and hoodies concealing your body, then homework until your mom leaves, then go out and help your city.

Your fighting has improved to the point that you almost prefer hand to hand combat rather than using your powers. On especially slow nights, you’ve let yourself drag out a fight with some bank robbers or kidnappers just to entertain yourself.

It was your escape. In your suit, with your face covered and your hair thick with the lightening spray, was the only time you felt like yourself. Really yourself.

But you had a plan to change that. As easy as it had been to lay low throughout the last year at school, you’d had enough. You wanted more. So you had a plan. A new body and face overnight is impossible, but over three months? Totally plausible.

You were excited for three months with nothing to do but go out as Sapphire, and you knew these few months were going to be the calm before the storm if you really decided to go back to Midtown as the new you.

God, enough with the reminiscing. You told yourself, but you do allow yourself to feel pride at how much you’d matured from your first day of school this year to your last as you tug on your familiar suit and mask.

***

You glance down at the buildings beneath you, eyes silently scanning every dark alley and corner for trouble. Your hands glow blue as you fly yourself gracefully through the sky. Suddenly, loud sirens and screams sound from beneath you and you look down to see 8 large men climbing into a bank as they smashed the windows.

You quickly fly yourself down and through the hole behind the men as they point guns towards the only two people in the bank, a janitor and a man you assume is the manager. “Give us the fucking money.” One of the men growls and the others laugh menacingly at their friend’s threat.

The manager notices you standing behind the men and his eyes widen, causing the men to start to turn towards you. You grab the gun out of one of their hands using your powers and smirk at the oh, shit look on their faces. Before you can make a move to knock the man nearest you off his feet, a web snaps through the broken window and snatches the gun from his hands before you can blink.

Spiderman comes swinging through the opening, landing gracefully. “What’s going on here, fellas?” He asks, and you can’t help but smirk at the sound of his voice. The two of you seemed to live similar lives, and yet this was your first time meeting him.

The white eyes of his mask flicker from the men, frozen with fear, towards you, and his eyes grow with recognition and maybe shock? Hard to tell with the mask. He opens his mouth to say something else, but one of the men still holding guns raises it and fires towards Spiderman without a second of hesitation.

You raise your hand quickly, stopping the bullet in mid-air and everyone around you stares at the bullet suspended in mid-air, your glowing blue hand outstretched, almost as if you were catching it. Spiderman’s eyes widen even more. “Holy shit.”

You smile to yourself and clench your hand into a fist, letting the bullet crumble to the ground in dust. “Nice try.” You say to the man. “But you’re getting on my nerves.” You turn towards the 8 men in front of you, 5 still holding guns. You move your hand to face the men, and with a sweeping motion, the 5 guns are yanked from their hands to suspend far above their heads, where they couldn’t reach.

You can’t help a small laugh as one of the men tries to jump up and grab it. You turn towards Spiderman who’s standing there with his mouth wide open. “Sorry if I stole your moment.” You say genuinely. You had no doubt that he could’ve taken care of this himself, but you had gotten here first.

“Are you kidding?” He nearly squeaked. “That was amazing, oh my god! I can’t believe we haven’t met until now.” Your cheeks blaze slightly under your mask from his praise, you’ve never had a superhero compliment you before. You adjust your focus back to the men quickly, who seem to be thinking of a way to run.

Your eyes meet Spidey’s again. “You wanna web ‘em up?” He nods excitedly, his eyes finally breaking from yours as he jumps into action. As impressed as he was by you, you couldn’t help but watch in awe as he swings around the room and with a thwick, he webs all of the men together in a cocoon, hanging upside down from the chandelier of the bank ceiling.

He swings himself one last time to land next to you again. “Cool.” You say before you can even realize your mouth is open. “I mean, you’re not too bad yourself.” He bows his head a bit, seeming shy even though it was a half-compliment to cover up your embarrassment.

“Sorry to bust in on your fight,” He says, glancing around the room towards the two terrified employees staring at the two of you in shock. “Not a lot happening tonight, and I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ugh, I know.” You agree. “Not to complain about less crime, but our jobs have been a little bit too easy this past week.” His mask crinkles as he smiles.

“We could...work together sometime if you wanted too, of course.” He says nervously, nearly stuttering on his words. “It’s just, you’re really good and you seem really cool and I-”

You interrupt his word vomit. “Of course I want to! I’ve been wondering when we would meet.” His eyes move from staring at the eye holes in your mask down to your lips when you smile. “How’s tomorrow?”

“How’s right now?” You don’t think your smile can get wider. “One sec.” He holds up a finger before quickly running over to the two bank workers, who thank you both over and over and then they both hugged him. You were wrong, your smile grows and remains goofy and big as he runs back over to you. “Let’s go.”

That night you found out that your view of the city is 100 times better when you can also see a red and blue suit swinging from building to building out of the corner of your eye.

[levis-hazelnut]

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): suggestions of sex. please do tell me if there are anymore.

Taglist (closed): @castellandiangelo @fandom-addict19​ @20coldhearts​

Status: completed

part 10 > part 11 > part 12 (final)

series masterlist

(a/n: sorry this is me just being thirsty for levi, it’s completely self indulgent and barely has a plot)

I think what I’m about to tell you right now is probably one of the biggest surprises.

So, you know how both of my relationships never lasted longer than five months? Well, my relationship with Levi has been going on for eleven months now. Almost a whole year. Which means I’ve been living in heaven for the past eleven months.

This man is just amazing in every way possible (but please don’t tell him I said this because he’s going to piss me off). He can pretend that he doesn’t care about anything all he wants because I know how much of a sweetheart he actually is, and I hate him for making me fall even more in love with him.

And another reason why I hate him is because--

That god awful sound of my ringtone screamed into my ear and I knew who it was, seeing as how there was only one person who would call me at eight a.m. on a Saturday.

With a few grumbled curses, I blindly reached for my phone and answered it, “What?”

“Good morning to you, too, darlin’.”

“For god’s sake, just tell me what you want. I’m trying to sleep.”

“I’d like for you to get your ass out of bed since our exam starts in less than twenty minutes.”

... Wasn’t it the weekend?

“... Excuse me? Exam? Since when?”

“Look at your calendar, please, you idiot.”

“I may or may not have put it into my calendar because I relied on you,” I muttered, jumping out of bed and scrambling to find some clothes before quickly brushing my teeth and trying to fix my bed head.

“Also, stop by at the café before you come. I want tea.”

“Are you fucking dumb? I’m not stopping to get you tea when I’ll already be late.”

“It’s on the way. It’ll only add a couple of minutes to your journey.”

“If I’m late, I swear I’m going to--”

“It won’t be my fault if you’re late. Thank you for getting me tea. Love you. Bye.”

He cut the phone before I could even reply and I rolled my eyes, slamming the apartment door behind me as I rushed down the stairs and made my way to the café to get Levi his precious tea since I’m such a loving girlfriend.

With a shrill ring of the bell above the door, my arrival was announced as I looked to the counter to see Eren talking to Levi, with a cup of tea in his hands.

I frowned, marching towards them to slap the back of the raven’s head.

“What the hell?” he spat, flicking my forehead in retaliation.

“What happened to getting you tea, so I can be late to the exam?”

“There is no exam, darlin’.”

“What do you mean? Why did you tell me that there was an exam? Why would you make me lose precious hours of sleep?”

“Seeing as how you don’t remember, I’ll remind you. Last night you asked me to help you study. For the exams. But I didn’t think you’d get out of bed for our study session.”

“Stop knowing me so well and let me sleep. Now, you have to buy me a cof--” I cut myself off when he presented a hot cup to me and the aroma of coffee wafted around my nose, calming me down after I took a sip. “Thank you, babe.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied before turning to the male with turquoise orbs. “Thanks for the drinks.”

“No problem. I also cleared a table in the corner for you guys, so that you wouldn’t get too distracted.”

“Aw, thank you, Eren,” I grinned. “Come on, let’s get this shit over with,” I huffed, dragging the raven towards the table, where we both sat down, and he took things out of his bag before tucking it under the table.

“What do you want to focus on?” he asked, and then glancing at me when I didn’t respond because I was too busy focusing on the black t-shirt he was wearing. Perfectly fitted around his arms, tight around his torso and pecs, exposing the ripples that I love to run my fingers over. And he was wearing a couple of silver rings on his hands, and I didn’t think he’d be able to look more attractive.

“... You,” I replied to his question with a smirk, causing him to roll his eyes.

“I will walk out of this café if you don’t stop staring at me like a freaking weirdo and if you don’t pay attention to what I’m saying.”

“But I’m tired,” I whined, facepalming the table.

“That’s not my fault.”

“I will fucking kill you, Levi. You were the one that decided to call me for five hours last night. And the one who thought it’d be a wonderful idea to wake me up at eight in the morning.”

“... Fine. We don’t have to start straight away,” he told me, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, causing his biceps to bulge even more.

“Don’t sit like that.”

“Why?” he questioned, raising a single brow.

“Because I’m sure you don’t want to get fucked in a café.”

“Why are you always so horny, you freak?”

“You’re asking me that question while looking like that?” I scoffed with the roll of my eyes. “The audacity.”

“Just drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

“I will. By the way, do we have to stay in here? Can we go to the library or somewhere quieter?”

“Why? So you can fuck me?”

“No, you idiot. I just won’t be able to concentrate with all these people.”

“But you’ll get too sleepy if it’s quiet.”

“True,” I mumbled. “Okay, then. Just give me like half an hour and I should be ready to study.”

“What am I going to do for thirty minutes?”

“Maybe talk to your girlfriend, smartass,” I retorted, laying my head on the table again, squishing my cheek against it. There was no response, so the only sounds were the chatter of customers, glass clinking, and air conditioning because of the sweltering weather. I glanced at my boyfriend, wondering why he was silent, only to find that he was gazing at me. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” was his reply, which was unusual, before he took a sip of his tea.

“What are you thinking about?”

“About how we ended up here. Together. In a relationship.”

A tender smile conquered my lips as I reached my hand out for his, interlocking our fingers. “Thank you, Levi. For loving me like no one else did. And no matter how much you get on my nerves, I’m always going to appreciate you being here for me.”

“I’m not good with this shit, so yeah, same thing goes to you,” he said awkwardly, causing me to laugh.

“Can’t believe it’s going to be our one-year anniversary in about two weeks.”

“Going to be a year since I entered hell.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, kicking his shin, despite knowing he was joking.

“... You know what, let’s just go,” the raven-haired male randomly stated, standing up and gently tugging on my hand as our fingers were still intertwined. To my one-word question of: “Where?” he replied, “I don’t know, but I don’t feel like it’s day that we should study. We have plenty of time for that, so let’s do something.”

My hues shone brightly as I grinned and gladly accepted his offer, getting out of my seat and grabbing my coffee as he packed his things away prior to leading me out of the stuffy building, bidding farewell to Eren.

“Let’s go to your place. We’ll make breakfast, have it on the balcony, and do whatever after.”

“'Kay, then. But can we slip in a nap after breakfast because I’m still tired?” I requested.

“Of course.”

So, we made way to mine and Hanji’s apartment, relieved that I didn’t have to study all day today and could simply relax with the raven. That fact made me smile a little as I unlocked the door to the apartment, stepping inside and kicking my shoes off as Levi did the same, following you to your bedroom.

“Ten minutes, please. Then, we begin our date,” I sighed, plopping down onto my bed and he made himself comfortable, shifting my head onto his lap. Then, his slender digits began to soothingly drift through my tresses that were completely tangled, so he had gently unknotted my hair to make it easier to run his fingers through it.

“Remind me to never wake you up this early on a weekend again.”

“I always tell you, asshole. And you never listen to me.”

“Well, I’ve finally learnt my lesson. So, hush.”

After my ten-minute rest, I went to splash my face with water to wake me up a little, while Levi was in the kitchen, preparing everything for breakfast, seeing as how the only thing he ate for breakfast was tea and toast, and I only had coffee.

“Hey, darlin’, what do you want to eat?”

“Mmm, maybe crepes... Let me help.”

So, in the next forty minutes, I ended up with flour on my face and clothes, while that idiot was just smirking at me, and I had slipped because there was water on the floor. And all of it was amusing to my boyfriend, who seemed to be in a great mood since he kept chuckling (not that I was complaining because it was a beautiful sound). The annoying thing, though, was that I was too irritated to mock him wearing my floral apron that made him lose his debonair flair.

“You’re an idiot with her own comedy show,” he teased.

“I don’t know if that is a compliment or not.”

“It isn’t. I’m calling you an idiot.”

“Shut up. You’re the reason I’m covered in flour.”

“Just go sit down and eat. I’ll clean everything up.”

“You better, you clean-freak,” I mumbled, doing as he said, taking a seat at the table on the balcony as he placed down the plates and mugs before sitting opposite me. The sun grinned down on him, giving him an ethereal appearance and making him even more gorgeous. 

There was idle chatter as we ate because I was too exhausted and agitated to carry a proper conversation that had too much information for my brain to register.

Once we were done, the raven stood up to take the dishes to the kitchen and wash them (husband material right there) as Hanji approached me with a yawn, rubbing the fatigue from her eyes.

“How come you’re awake so e-- Oh,” she said when she noticed Levi.

“Yeah, he made me get out of bed early for no reason,” I complained as I stood up to help him. “There’s leftover batter for crepes, by the way.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks. Also, why is there flour everywhere?”

“Because of that idiot.” I rolled my eyes.

“You’re the idiot, darlin’,” he called from the kitchen before appearing before us, shooting an annoying and teasing look my way, and shot him a glare in return.

 From someone else’s perspective that don’t know us, we’d probably look like we hate each other, when in reality, this was basically our love language - annoying each other and glaring.

“I will punch you, Ackerman. However, I need to clean up, so you’re lucky.”

“Not like you would’ve, anyway. And before you say anything else, just go shower.”

Once again, I rolled my eyes but left the room to do as he said, grabbing some clothes and a towel before going into the bathroom. Just as I was about to close the door, however, it opened slightly and Levi stepped inside, shutting and locking the door.

“What are you doing?” I inquired.

“I said I’ll clean everything up, didn’t I? That includes you,” he whispered with a smirk, leaning in to latch his lips onto mine, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

~/~

Soft kisses were pressed along my hairline and my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, down to my jaw and further down to my shoulders. Lips continued to migrate, travelling to my neck where there were soft nibbles and flicks of a tongue against the flesh of my neck.

My fingers were tangled in ebony locks, damp and fragrant from our recent shower, and my nails gently scratched against Levi’s scalp as I drifted my hand through his hair. His touches were light and almost careful, like he didn’t want to hurt me, even though his teeth contrasted that when he sunk his teeth into my skin a couple of times before kissing the spot he bit as a wordless apology.

We were simply lying down in my bed, relaxing in a comfortable silence. I laid on my back with my eyes lidded, while Levi laid on his side, resting his head on my chest as he continued to pepper my skin in soft kisses and gentle nips.

These would always be my favourite moments. Just moments filled with adoration, silent declarations of love, and serenity. No teasing, annoying, or glaring. No retorts, no eye rolling, no grumbles. Only warmth, tenderness, affection.

“Darlin’?” he uttered in a hushed voice, but when I didn’t respond, he lifted his head to gaze at me, finding that I had fallen asleep. His ashen hues were full of fondness, admiring my relaxed visage before he pecked my lips and assumed his original position - his head on my chest and an arm slung over my torso.

While I was asleep, he was on his phone, scrolling through social media, occasionally sighing because he was bored. But he wouldn’t wake me up because I deserved to sleep.

It wasn’t until about twelve o’clock when I woke up with Levi’s head still laying on my chest, however, his grey orbs were hidden. So, with little movement, I attempted to reach for my phone, only to find that his fingers were entangled with mine, which made me smile softly because I hadn’t been holding his hand before I fell asleep.

And when I pressed my lips against his knuckles, his eyes fluttered open to meet mine, and there was a smile shimmering in his beautiful eyes.

“Finally awake, sleepyhead,” he hummed placing a single kiss on my jaw.

“Mhm. Did you miss me?” I murmured, unhinging my jaw and letting out a yawn.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, putting up an act to support his lie. “No.”

I giggled softly, kissing his forehead. “Whatever you say, babe. Anyway, what are we doing for the rest of the day?”

“I was thinking something outside because the weather’s nice.”

“Oh, I know! There’s a funfair at the park just ten minutes away. Let’s go there.”

“Sure. We’ll leave in about an hour?” he suggested, and I hummed in agreement, tugging my boyfriend closer so I could nuzzle my face into his chest before we got out of bed. “Then, we can come back later and make dinner together.”

“That sounds nice,” I said in a hushed voice, feeling sleep taking over me once again. However, Levi attempted to save me before I completely gave in.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Shhh.”

For the umpteenth time that day, the raven rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help the smile that edged onto his lips every time.

He doesn’t know what it was. But every time I would do or say something, even if it was the most stupid and idiotic thing he’s seen, he feels something warm flutter inside. And he realises how much he’s fallen for me, which has changed him. In a good way.

And all this time I thought I was a bad influence.

[pyrobane-fandom-space]

Significant Strides in Relations

Author: Merlyn Bane

Word Count: 10.3K (shut up, don't @ me okay)

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi manages to catch the attention of his attache on a diplomatic mission.

Warnings: Adult Content™. Strong language, smut. Virgin!Obi I guess. Unprotected sex--wrap it up!

A/N: Did I come back from the dead just to post some completely self-indulgent bullshit? Yes I did. This is like 3.7K worth of smut with like 5K worth of justification and like 1K of Skywalker bullshit at the end and I'm not sorry about any of it. I would also just like to blame @no-droids and their Open Door series for giving me a Thing for Obi-Wan in the first place.

(gif found on google, not mine)

You want to fuck the Jedi.

And, yeah, sure, you feel a little bit bad about it. You know enough about the Order to know that that's something the Jedi don't do--if the poor man knew the direction your thoughts had taken, he'd probably be scandalized. You can clearly imagine his face turning, just, scarlet, especially because you do mean fuck. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is visiting your planet on a diplomatic mission that you haven't been briefed on the particulars of, and you've been assigned to him as an attaché during his stay--tending to his needs, making sure he's comfortable while he's here. It's a function you've performed many, many times as part of your duties to the royal family, but Kenobi has been...particularly pleasant, to work with. The Jedi is kind, treats you like an equal even though you're technically working for him for the time being, and he's funny. You hadn't realized the Jedi were allowed a sense of humor, but Maker, this one is sarcastic, constantly teasing with a playful glint in his blue eyes that is...not helping you with the whole 'wanting to irredeemably corrupt him' problem that you're currently having. 

You show up at his quarters just before breakfast to collect him as you have for the last two days and he's already there waiting for you, opening the door just as you're coming to a stop in front of it.  Kenobi gives you a gracious smile as he steps into the hallway with you, letting the door slide closed behind him, and you return it before turning to start making your way to the dining hall. He falls in step next to you and despite the fact that he really isn't walking that close to you, you swear you can feel him there. "Good morning, young one." 

You snort softly, scrunching your nose up as you give him an unimpressed side-eye. "Young one? You realize I'm within five years of you? I think you spend too much time with your old padawan and not enough with your peers, Kenobi."

The Jedi chuckles next to you, looking suitably sheepish as he grins over at you. "My apologies, my lady," he says, and you can tell that he's teasing you lightly. You roll your eyes but don't correct him--no, instead you internalize it, and his innocent my lady gets cataloged away with the rest of the impure thoughts that have been plaguing you since you saw him in the great hall upon his arrival. "I meant no offense."

"None was taken."

The conversation sort of just...drifts off, and you take the time to study his features out of the corner of your eye while he's looking ahead. The Jedi is...handsome, and frankly you think it's very unfair of the Order to lock all of that up under a chastity vow. The lines of his face are classical, look like they could have been carved from marble--only accentuated by the scruff of the beard lining a jaw you kind of want to sink your teeth into. 

And, Maker. His eyes. The clearest crystal blue, like twin glaciers, piercing directly into your soul every time you meet them but...gentle. Always gentle. You know he's as talented a warrior as he is a negotiator, you've heard the stories, but you would never know it from his pretty eyes. 

"What are your plans for the day, Master Kenobi? Since there won't be any official matters taking place today." It's the third day of the week, and on your planet it is considered inappropriate to do such work then. Most of your people will be in services today, to include the royal family. You probably should be, but you had offered to stay behind and continue to assist the Jedi--you've never cared for such things, anyway, and you certainly think he makes for better company.

Kenobi turns his head just enough to give you a small smile before he looks forward again, humming softly as he considers his answer. "I will likely confer with the Council this afternoon, update them on how the negotiations are going. Perhaps I will take some time to meditate, as well. You may have most of the day to yourself." It's quiet for a moment, then: "And you may just call me Obi-Wan, if you wish."

Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan--

It does not escape your attention that this isn't an offer that was even extended to your employers, who he's supposed to be here on the sole purpose of brokering an agreement with. They've still been using titles with each other, you know they have. Fuck. "Obi-Wan," you repeat, hoping that it escapes his notice how much you find that you like the way it feels on your tongue. Obi-Wan. "If you find you have the time, later, maybe I could show you around a little more. There are some places on the palace grounds I think you might enjoy."

The Jedi hums again, and you can see that he's still smiling when you look over at him. "I will certainly keep that in mind."

You reach the dining hall only a few minutes later, and go your separate ways once you've gotten your food. You find a seat at one of the far tables tucked into a corner that's already populated by a couple of your fellow staff members, making sure to sit so that you're facing him so he can get your attention if he needs it. You're being elbowed almost the second your ass hits the seat, the girl to your left clearly desperate for whatever gossip she thinks you have as she leans in and whispers at you in hushed tones. 

"Maker, you've got a dreamy one. You're so lucky, I was assigned to--"

You're not even listening, not really--tuning her out while you tuck into your breakfast. You suppose you don't have any real right to be so annoyed with her, truthfully, given that you've been having similar thoughts about him yourself all morning and for most of the last couple of days, but you find that you are anyway. The girl doesn't even seem to realize that you're ignoring her, continuing to chatter at you until one of the other people at your table manages to redirect her attention, if not the subject. 

 You tell yourself that the reason your attention stays focused on the Jedi is in case he needs you for anything but you're not very convincing, even to yourself. Your mind wanders while you eat, formulating scenarios that all seem to end with Obi-Wan between your thighs. Most of these thoughts are generally nonsensical, idle flashes and half-strung together images, but some of them come through with alarming clarity. 

I want to suck his cock.

The Jedi suddenly chokes on whatever it is he's just eaten. 

You instinctively shift to stand up to try and help him but his companion is already there, smacking his back with more force than you think is probably necessary and laughing loudly enough that you can hear him from your table. Skywalker, you think his name is. He's still chuckling when they settle back down, despite the thoroughly unamused looks Obi-Wan is shooting him. You snort quietly to yourself and Skywalker turns his head to look at you like he can sense your eyes on them. Your eyes meet for a second, two, and then to your horror he winks at you.

Your stomach sinks. No. No, no. No. He's just winking at you because he caught you looking over at them, right? Jedi can't. Jedi can't read minds, right? Surely not. The younger Jedi raises an eyebrow at you, the edge of his lip curving into what can only be called a smirk, and you really. Just need the ground to open up and swallow you whole right here. Maker. You're going to have to work with Obi-Wan for the next couple of days--how the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eyes, now, knowing that he's heard you this entire time? 

 Breakfast passes both entirely too quickly and not near quickly enough, and before you know it, both Jedi are getting to their feet. You curse quietly under your breath and stand yourself, disposing of your tray before you manage to make yourself walk back over to join them. You still have a job to do, regardless of whether or not you want to dig yourself a nice deep hole to die in right now. You do your best to force a smile once you reach them, really trying your absolute hardest to pretend that none of...that, had just happened. Like you haven't been caught lusting over Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi by the man himself. 

Skywalker is the first to speak, that Maker-forsaken grin still plastered firmly in place on his face when he does. "Hello,"

You think he's having entirely too much fucking fun with this, frankly. 

Obi-Wan seems to agree with you, if the look he gives his companion then is anything to go by. You swallow, doing your best to reign in your composure as you raise a hand to wave at him in response before turning back to the man you're supposed to be assisting. "Are you--" you pause, clearing your throat before continuing. "Are you ready to return to your rooms?"

Maker. Maker. Why did you have to say--

"Quite," Obi-Wan answers before you can stutter out an apology, giving Skywalker what can only be described as a warning look before he turns back to follow you. Your gaze stays all but permanently affixed to the floor as you start making your way down the hall, the only thing indicating that he's still beside you the sound of his boots on the tile. 

You can feel his eyes on you when you reach his door but you still can't bring yourself to meet them, clearing your throat awkwardly and folding your hands behind your back in a bid to stop yourself from picking at your thumbnail from the nervous energy that's suddenly coursing through your body. "I. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day," you manage to stutter out, taking your leave before he can say anything to stop you.

You end up having a couple of hours to yourself to stew in the privacy of your own room before anyone comes for you. 

You groan quietly when you hear the knock at your door but haul yourself to your feet and make your way over anyway, pushing your hair out of your face. You frown minutely when you find one of your coworkers standing there. Kaljova--she's assigned to Skywalker, if you recall correctly. She seems vaguely concerned with the state you're in but is kind enough not to comment on it, giving you a polite smile instead. "Master Kenobi has asked for you," Kaljova tells you, and has the grace to pretend to not notice the way your face falls with it. 

"Do you know what he needs?" you ask her, blessedly managing to keep your voice even. You reach down to grab your cloak from the table by your door and tie it around your shoulders without waiting for her to actually answer, stepping out into the hallway and letting your door close behind you. 

She shakes her head, shrugging a little bit. "Master Skywalker didn't say, I'm sorry."

You shake your head, sighing softly but giving her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. Thank you for letting me know."

She returns your smile and nods once before she turns around and leaves you to your own devices again. You groan quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose as you work up the nerve to actually make your way to the visiting diplomat wing where you know he's waiting for you. It takes you a couple of minutes but you do manage to make your feet move eventually and they carry you there far faster than you'd have liked them to. 

You swallow harshly and close your eyes for a second before reaching up to knock on his door, bracing yourself. Maker, he probably wants to talk about it, clear the air or whatever, and you are just...absolutely not even a little bit equipped to deal with that right now, frankly. You're able to school your features as the door slides open but just barely, and you stop breathing altogether when you look up and meet those pretty blue eyes. 

And he seems...surprised to see you. 

That kriffing--

"You...didn't send for me, did you?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head, looking more confused if possible, and you just sigh quietly, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I think there was a...miscommunication." And I'm going to kill your fucking padawan. "I'll just--I'll just go." You raise a hand in a very awkward not-wave and turn on your heel to go, but then.

The Jedi gently grabs you by the elbow, and everything stops for a moment. 

Goddammit.

"Wait," Obi-Wan says, softly--like he's trying not to spook you. You take a deep, stuttering breath, and sigh it out, relaxing where you stand as you give up on getting out of this. "I believe...it would be a good idea, if we talked."

Yeah, that's. That's pretty much what you figured, unfortunately. 

"I'm very sorry, if I made you uncomfortable, I...I didn't know you could--" Didn't know you could hear me. 

"I know," he tells you, just as gently as before, and you reluctantly turn just enough to be able to face him. His eyes are soft when they regard you, and you find your breathing evening out despite yourself--wondering idly how much of it is actively his doing. "Just...come inside. Please."

You can't find it in yourself to deny him so you nod, letting him lead you into the room and trying to pretend that you can't feel your heart stop when the door slides shut behind you. Obi-Wan seems to notice you not knowing what to do with yourself because he gestures to one of the chairs in the sitting area, sitting down in the one opposite it once you're settled. It's quiet for a moment as both of you seem to search for the right words. 

"I would like to begin by apologizing for Anakin," he says finally, and you snort as the words register.  He gives you a wry smile in return, and continues. "He means well, but he can be...thoughtless, in his humor, at times. Particularly when it is at my expense."

"He sounds like he must have been a joy to train."

That earns you an almost startled sounding laugh out of the Jedi, which manages to get a real smile out of you. "I fear he may have also misled you, to an extent." He tells you, not quite meeting your eyes now as he scratches at his beard. You give him a questioning look and he sighs softly, leaning back in his chair. "We...can hear thoughts, but only if we go looking and it is considered very inappropriate to do so without reason."

You feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, then, and you tilt your head at him. "But you…?"

Obi-Wan winces, and nods. "You may have...projected, this morning, inadvertently. It was...rather loud, and my guards were not as firmly in place as they probably should have been."

Oh. So you'd shouted it at him, then. Great. "Oh."

"I had...gotten a sense of the direction of your thoughts, before that, but you were acting very professionally so thought it best to pay it no mind."

That's...very kind of him, actually, to have simply ignored it even though it must have made him uncomfortable, especially when he so easily could have just told you to knock it off or requested a different attache. You clear your throat, finding yourself picking at your thumbnail again. "I appreciate that."

"You needn't be embarrassed, you know." the Jedi murmurs softly, and you look up to meet his gaze despite yourself. He smiles at you a little bit, then, and it brings something very warm into those blue eyes of his that almost makes you just a little lightheaded. "These things happen. You're only human, you can't be expected to have complete control of your thoughts all the time."

"You do," you point out, just because you feel the need to. "Jedi do. So I'm told."

"We spend our whole lives learning to try." he amends, and there's something so human in the way that he grins that suddenly, all you want to do is lean over and kiss him. "It is a constant exercise, not a skill that can be mastered."

"Still. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable this week."

"Uncomfortable might not be the right word for it, speaking truthfully," Obi-Wan admits, so quietly that you're almost not even sure he's really said it at all. And--Maker, is he implying what it sounds like he's implying? You know your eyes must be just about bugging out of your head with the shock but he mercifully either doesn't notice or pretends not to, scratching at his beard again as he seems to consider his next words, and you...really need him to stop doing that. It's becoming hard enough to maintain your focus as it is. "There were times where I was perhaps...tempted."

You stare at him, blankly, blinking slowly as the words process. Tempted tempted tempted-- "I thought Jedi couldn't…"

Obi-Wan clears his throat, and suddenly he's the one looking unsettled. "Technically, the Code prohibits intimacy, attachment. It...says nothing about the act itself."

Oh. Oh.  

You're still staring at him, just completely dumbstruck, so the Jedi seems to decide to take it upon himself to continue talking and fill the space. "For most of us it ends with the same result, functionally, but. Technically." 

Maker, get it together. You feel like you're on a several second delay, having great difficulty processing this new information, let alone giving him the verbal response to it that he's clearly waiting for, now. "Have you--"

"Almost. Once. When I was a padawan myself. My master and I were stationed on Mandalore at the time, assigned to protect the Duchess." 

You're grinning, now, you can feel it tugging at the edges of your mouth. Maker, you suddenly need to know this story like you need to breathe. "What happened?"

Stars, you swear you can see the tips of his ears turn red. "Qui-Gon caught us. It has...certainly dissuaded me from making any attempts since."

You laugh. You can't help it. Suddenly you're laughing so hard it nearly hurts, grasping your middle with one hand while wiping tears from your eyes with the other. You would feel worse about it if Obi-Wan didn't look so amused himself. "Oh, you poor thing." you snort before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and you feel your own face heat when you realize the implication of what you've just said to him. Way to go, Ace. 

Except...he's still grinning at you, amusement dancing in those blue eyes, and all the air seems to rush out of the room when they lock on your own. Kriff. "Are you suggesting that I'm missing out, then?"

He's teasing you, the bastard, and all of sudden it makes you feel bold. You lean forward in your chair, then, resting your elbows on your knees as you encroach on his space and pull your lower lip between your teeth.. "I'm not suggesting anything, Master Kenobi," you all but purr at him, "but should you be interested in finding out for yourself…"

The offer hangs in the air between you, then, like a lit fuse while you just stare at each other, both waiting to see if the other will make the next move.  

"And what might this...demonstration...entail?"

"Nothing you aren't completely on board with," you tell him immediately, because if this happens--Maker, if--it is absolutely imperative to you that he enjoys himself just as much as you do. Which...gives you an idea, actually. "I make sure my partners have a good time. Haven't done my job if they don't."

Fuck, the Jedi's eyes are blown. His pupils have nearly overtaken those pretty blue irises and it makes your breath catch with how much you want to ruin him. You can feel the tension rising in the room between you, feeding on and feeding into your arousal in a vicious cycle. He swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bob with it and narrowly resist the urge to bite him. "Oh?"

Kriff, you need to leave before you fuck him right here and ruin your plans. You give him a small, soft smile and stand, padding over to him. His eyes track each movement, his head tilting back to gaze up at you when you come to stand between his knees, and you can see how ragged his breathing's gone at the sudden proximity. You reach out and let your palm wrap around the line of his jaw, your fingernails scratching lightly through the coarse hairs of his beard, and the Jedi's eyes fall closed before you even lean in. He gasps when your mouth brushes against his own, the faintest whisper of a kiss, and your smile widens. "I think, that you deserve to be seduced properly, Obi-Wan," you breathe. "I'm not going to fuck you, Baby, not just yet. When you really want it--then I'll give it to you."

 It takes several seconds before he's able to get words out again, and when he does you can barely hear what he's saying from the rasp in them. "I think, my lady," he pants, "that you are being exceedingly cruel."

You chuckle softly, letting your thumb brush across his lower lip before you straighten up and take a step back, ignoring the almost whine that escapes his throat when you do. "Perhaps."

For the rest of the evening, you act as normal--as if none of the events of the day had taken place. You meet with Obi-Wan and escort him to the dining hall for dinner as usual and go your separate ways once your trays are piled high. You do your best to resist the urge to glare daggers at the other Jedi, particularly when he grins and waves at you, but you are able to content yourself with the sharp look Obi-Wan gives him for it as he sits down. Dinner is uneventful despite Skywalker's best efforts, and passes quickly. You give Obi-Wan this time to...come down, essentially, to gather his wits back about him before you really set your plans into motion in the morning. You had left the Jedi absolutely wrecked this afternoon, and not only do you think it would be just a little unfair to begin your seduction in such a state, you're a little concerned that you might actually kill him if you overwhelm him so much all at once. So, you give him time to breathe. 

Or at least, that is your intent. 

The sudden drop almost seems to have the opposite effect. Obi-Wan's composure is, outwardly, as impeccable as always. No-one but you and Skywalker--you're sure--would be able to tell that anything's up. The only reason you do is because you still can't take your eyes off him so you notice the way his haven't left you, either. And, Maker, the way he looks at you. You almost want to give in, drag him back to his rooms now, but. You meant it earlier, when you said you thought he deserved better than that. The concept of virginity as a special thing is not one you've ever particularly put much stock in, yourself, but you know that this is, will be, a big deal for him whether he's willing to admit it or not. You want to give him at least this much. He might not be allowed true intimacy or emotional attachment, but that doesn't mean the sex has to be careless. You meant it, when you told him that you take care of your partners.  

The next day, you start slow. Obi-Wan is actually fairly busy with the diplomatic mission he'd been sent here on in the first place, which makes that relatively simple. The only time you really get with him that morning is when you're escorting him to and from meetings, so you spend that time finding excuses to touch him. Subtle things, like adjusting already-straight the collar of his robes. 

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," 

The Jedi steps out into the hall with you and lets the door close behind him, returning your greeting with an easy grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "Good morning. Where are we off too?"

"You have a meeting with the Chancellor, first. It'll be long and likely boring assuming Skywalker behaves himself, but productive." You give him a soft smile, stepping forward and looking up at him from under your lashes. He watches you intently, almost seeming to stop breathing for a second when you reach up and adjust the tan collar of his robes, your fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of his throat when you do. You let the moment linger a second longer than it needs to before you step back to a respectful distance and nod down the hallway. "Shall we?"

Brushing his hair out of his face when it's fallen into his eyes.

Obi-Wan looks about as tired as you expect him to when he comes out of his meeting a couple of hours later but he has a small smile for you when he sees you waiting for him in the hallway anyway. Skywalker follows him through the door seconds later but barely pays either of you any mind, grumbling something about breakfast as he follows Kaljova down the hall. The two of you stand there for another moment, glancing at each other and chuckling at the younger Jedi's irritation, and you notice idly that some of his blond hair's managed to fall out of place. You reach up to brush it back out of his eyes and bite your lip when they zero in on your own, and you find yourself leaning in further before you can stop yourself only for you to jump apart when the door slides open again. The Chancellor gives you both a polite nod as he takes his leave, completely unaware of what he'd interrupted, and you have to shake your head to clear it once he's out of sight. You can still feel the Jedi's eyes on you when you turn to make your way to the dining hall.

It continues this way, more or less, until lunch, when you decide to kick it up a notch going into the afternoon. You remember what he told you about being able to pick up on your feelings, at least in a general sense, whether he went looking for them or not so you decide to lean into that and let your mind run wild with the things you want to do to him. You're careful not to project any particulars at him this time but you can tell that he definitely takes notice when you start letting your thoughts wander. 

You're still sitting in the dining hall at your separate tables, and you smirk lightly when his eyes snap up, watching them narrow when he realizes what you're doing. You maintain that eye contact shamelessly, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you try to imagine what's waiting for you underneath those robes. Skywalker's glancing back and forth between you and grinning but Obi-Wan ignores him completely, raising an eyebrow in your direction that you merely shrug at. You see him shift slightly in his seat after a little while of this and decide to lay off a bit--for now, at least. 

Obi-Wan has to consult with the Jedi Council after lunch so you decide to have some mercy on him immediately leading up to that and take a break from your little game. You're sure he's still aware of the arousal boiling low in your belly while you walk him back to his rooms after lunch but you're not actively focusing on it now, letting yourself relax and the Jedi by extension. 

It's during dinner that evening that you really kick it into high gear. 

You're not even fully sure this is going to work, since you've only ever done it once and by accident, but watching Obi-Wan converse with Skywalker at their table, you know you want to try. So you focus your attention on the Jedi, and hone in on the thought of what you think it might be like to kiss him until you see him stiffen and you know he's got it. You keep going, feeding him different images that only grow more explicit as you grow bolder. Sucking and biting bruises into the skin of his throat and chest while you grind down against his cock. Looking right into his pretty blue eyes while you stroke that cock, watching him come apart when you finally take it into your mouth like you've wanted to do practically since you laid eyes on him. Riding him, burying your hands in his hair and swallowing his moans while you bounce in his lap. 

Obi-Wan grits his teeth across the dining hall, gripping the edge of the table he's sitting at tightly and pointedly not looking at you while he tries to regain control of his breathing. Skywalker is staring at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed in total shock, and you only smirk back at him in response as you let the projection drop. You didn't necessarily want the other Jedi to see those things, truthfully, but you don't know how to control the projection well enough to block him out and he's been enough of a dick about the whole thing this week that you really don't feel all that badly about the fact that he looks like he kind of wants to bleach his brain, now. 

You simply go back to your meal once you've dropped the projection, though you can't help the small grin that stays plastered on your face. The next few minutes pass that way, but then.

But then.

Well, projection goes both ways.

It feels sort of like a tickle, at first, at the edge of your mind--easily ignored. Then it turns into a gentle prodding, and when you look up to confirm your suspicions, his blue eyes are locked firmly on yours and it takes your breath away. He's...being remarkably gentle with you, knowing that no-one's ever been in your head before like this, waiting for you to relax and let him in in a complete roll reversal that shocks you. You barely manage to contain the gasp when you do, because he's suddenly pushing images back at you. Obi-Wan thinks back to how your fingers had felt in his hair this morning, and then reimagines that feeling with you in his lap, tangled in his hair while you kiss him. Then, fuck. With his head between your thighs. He stops and focuses in on this one, imagining as many details as he can manage as he pushes it to you. Your hands pulling on the blond strands while his grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue laves through the folds of your cunt. 

The moment feels like a tipping point, and both of you know exactly what is going to happen once this meal is over. 

You're so pent up and aroused when it's finally time to leave that you're lightheaded with it but somehow you manage to get to your feet anyway, and thankfully you don't end up having to deal with Skywalker at all because Obi-Wan is out of his seat first this time and meets you halfway. There's something in the air between you, something tense and charged, and you know you need to get him back to his rooms now. He seems to be on the same page because he wastes no time in following you out of the dining hall, and his strides are longer enough than usual that you actually struggle just a little bit to keep up. 

And there's something so…juvenile about this, rushing off and sneaking around, but it's...fun. You feel almost like a teenager again, truthfully, so eager to get him alone somewhere private so you can get your hands on him that you're all but running down the hallway to get there. 

You're on the Jedi the moment the door closes behind you but he's right there with you, pulling you in for a kiss that's all enthusiasm and little finesse but heats your blood anyway. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you tug him closer and he moans with it, his own hands finding your face and framing it gently. You run the tip of your tongue along his lower lip and press forward when his mouth opens into it on a gasp, licking into his mouth until he has to pull away to breathe. 

Maker, he already looks a mess; beautifully flushed with his hair all askew and his pupils blown wide. It makes you want to do, just, unspeakable things, but you know you still have to take your time and ease him into it or this will all be over too fast and you can't have that.  

"Go...go sit on the bed," you murmur, putting a hand on his chest as you step back and take a second to try and get your wits back about you. "Take your boots off. And your cloak."

And, Kriff, he does it immediately, nodding at you with that just fucking wrecked look in his eyes before he turns to do exactly what you told him, laying his cloak over the back of one of the chairs and padding over to the bed where he sits on the edge before leaning over to take his boots off. You watch him the whole time, almost high on the heady feeling that comes with this hyper-competent Jedi Master doing whatever you tell him to. 

You take your time in joining him, partially to tease and partially just because you need those extra few moments. His eyes track every movement as you remove your own cloak, laying it next to his as you toe your shoes off, and you give him a small smile as you make your way over to the bed. Obi-Wan's breath hitches when you climb up onto it and seems to stop altogether when you carefully settle yourself on his lap, his hands fisting at his sides until you reach down to take them gently and guide them to your waist. "You can touch me," you purr, running your nose along the line of his jaw and grinning to yourself when his grip suddenly tightens with it. "It's encouraged, in fact."

He snorts quietly, so breathily that you almost miss it, and starts rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. "Noted," he rasps, and you grin wider before you press a kiss just under his jaw. The Jedi shivers with it and the reaction emboldens you so you continue downward, pressing kisses along his skin until you reach the collar of his robe and then you're working at the belt of his robes, eager to get at more of his skin. Obi-Wan seems to still have enough presence of mind to help you, shrugging out of the first two layers once you're able to get them open and discarding them to the side carelessly. You reluctantly have to pull back so you can yank his undershirt over his head but then his whole torso is exposed for your viewing pleasure, so you decide you're alright with the short interruption. 

"See something you like?" Obi-Wan quips breathlessly after a few seconds of you shamelessly studying every line and pane of his chest and you only smirk at him an answer, leaning back in his lap to get a better view and darting your tongue out to wet your lower lip. 

"What are the odds of anyone seeing you without the robes?"

His eyebrows knit together momentarily like he doesn't know what you're asking, but he seems to put the pieces together when you suddenly duck back down and lick a broad stripe along the line of his collarbone. His hips jerk up with a broken moan before he's able to manage an answer, his head tilting back and further exposing his throat. "Un-unlikely," he gasps out, and you're grinning again as you start pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses lower until you find a spot on his pec that pleases you and you stop and suck. The Jedi gasps raggedly, his fingers digging into your waist as he tries to ground himself, but you don't stop until you know a bruise will bloom there. "Something to remember you by?" he hisses, and you chuckle softly as you trace the round little blemish with the tip of your finger. 

"Oh, Baby, I don't think you're going to have any difficulty with that with or without a few little...reminders." 

Obi-Wan moans again, low in his throat, when you start pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest, gasping out and trembling the first time you let him feel teeth. His hips buck again and then it's your turn to gasp when his cock rubs right up against your cunt--already so, so hard. And, Maker, it is not a small bulge. What's he hiding under all of those neutral fabrics? You leave a meandering line of bites and hickeys all the way down his chest, ignoring the way he whines when you shift back off of his lap so you can continue down to his stomach. He leans back on his palms, then, watching you intently with dark eyes that make your pussy clench between your thighs, and his breath catches in his throat when your hands find the ties of his trousers. "What are you--"

"Told you I wanted to suck your cock," you remind him, biting your lip as you start undoing them--slowly enough to give him ample opportunity to stop you if he wants. "That alright with you?"

The Jedi nods mutely, suddenly seeming at a loss for words, and you smirk as you sit back on your knees and start pulling them down his thighs until he springs free, and--

Kriff--how fucking dare the Order deprive the galaxy of this magnificent cock? 

He's not the longest you've ever seen, per se, but he's thick enough that you almost wonder how you're going to take this thing and beautifully flushed, with defined veins that you just know are going to feel incredible inside you. You lean in to lick a stripe right up the underside of it before you can stop yourself and Obi-Wan cries out at the sudden stimulation and shakes, falling backwards onto his back. You moan softly at the response you pull out of him and lean up until you're able to take the head into your mouth, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips the bedspread until his knuckles go white and unravels. "Watch me," you tell him, taking him in your palm and pumping slowly while you wait for him to respond, "Wanna see those pretty blue eyes."

He forces them open just like you told him to, keeping them trained on you as he bites down on his lower lip and takes a shaky breath and you take him into your mouth again, satisfied. He cries out again but a little quieter this time, and you hum around his cock as you start bobbing up and down on it slowly, almost teasingly so, holding his hips down as best you can so you control the pace. You definitely want to feel him come down the back of your throat at some point, but this isn't the time for that. You have every intent of him coming buried deep inside you tonight. 

It becomes something of a game, figuring out exactly what he likes. Hollowing your cheeks to make your mouth tighter around him and moaning until he gasps. Teasing the slit at the top with the very tip of your tongue until you swear you hear him curse. And then you take him to the root.

And, Maker, he swears when he bottoms out and it shouldn't be so insanely hot hearing those words come from this ordinarily so well put-together Jedi but it is. You realize how close he's approaching his end so you reluctantly pull off of his cock, then, ignoring the whine that escapes from high in his throat when you do so. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand while you try and catch your breath, which is not made any easier by the way he's looking at you. You know you must look just as wrecked as he does, now, all flushed skin and swollen lips, but if you didn't know better you would genuinely think the man was about to eat you alive. "I think, my lady," he rasps finally, after several seconds of staring at each other, "that you may be slightly overdressed."

Kriff. You glance down at the tunic and trousers that you are, in fact, still wearing, before looking up to meet his eyes again. You maintain that eye contact as you sit back up on your knees, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you slowly start undoing the laces holding the top closed. Obi-Wan watches each movement like it's the most mesmerizing thing he's ever seen, pupils blown so wide they've almost completely obscured the blue. He groans quietly when the tunic slips from your shoulders, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip when your breasts come into full view. "Is that better?"

He shakes his head mutely, swallowing harshly as he seems to try to gather the words. "I want--may I--kriff, lay back. Please." His gaze follows you closely as you slowly lower yourself down onto your elbows, intensely curious what he's about to do. The Jedi takes a deep breath like he's steeling himself and then he's shifting forward until his body stretches over top of yours, kicking his trousers the rest of the way off in the process, and it's your turn to gasp when you feel his lips brush against the underside of your jaw. He's holding himself up enough that you can't necessarily feel him press against you, but Maker, you can certainly feel the heat coming off of him and his warm breath against your throat. "I believe it's my turn," he murmurs by way of explanation, chuckling softly when your next breath comes out ragged.

"You don't--you don't have to do that," you moan, and Stars--you mean it, you do, especially this first time, but you will be just absolutely fucking inconsolable if he changes his mind right now especially after he went and put the fucking image in your head during dinner earlier. 

He doesn't grace that with a verbal response but you're hardly complaining because he starts trailing kisses down the side of your neck instead, and Maker he must have been paying attention when you were doing this to him because you swear he's replicating the technique. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs lowly into the skin of your throat before nipping at it experimentally, listening to you gasp as he keeps talking. "Tell me how to please you, Darling."

His fingers find your nipple before you're able to even begin trying to formulate words and you cry out at the sudden stimulation, arching up into it. "F-Fuck, you're doing a pretty kriffing decent job already," you pant and he chuckles again, running his tongue along your collarbone like you'd done to him and moaning when he gets another ragged gasp for it. "Maker.  U-Use your m-mouth,"

You think for a second that he's going to make some smartass comment about how he already is, but mercifully Obi-Wan seems to know what you're asking him for and decides to be kind about it. He continues exploring your breasts with his hand while he returns his mouth to your throat, licking and sucking his way down the column of it until he reaches your sternum where he stops to suck a bruise into the skin. He gets you so worked up by the time he reaches your breasts that you almost don't realize how close he's gotten until those blue eyes are flickering up to meet yours and he's taking your nipple into the blazing hot cavern of his mouth. You open your mouth on a wordless shout and start to writhe under him but he's right there, both hands coming down to your hips to hold you in place as he laves his tongue around the stiffening peak. Obi-Wan focuses his attention on your breast until you're whimpering and then switches to the other, moaning around your nipple when your fingers tangle in his hair. 

"You like that, don't you?" you purr down at him, watching the Jedi through half-lidded eyes as he moans again in an affirmative. You pull, then, gently--experimentally, seeing if it's something he'll even like, and then he. Fucking bites you. "Fuck, Obi-Wan!" 

"About as much as you liked that," the asshole grins at you impishly as he pulls away from your breast, leaning in to kiss you before you can call him on it. His hands find the top of your trousers once you relax into it, and he leans back to look at you as his fingers dip into the waistband. "May I?"

He starts pulling them down as soon as you nod your consent, sitting back and watching as every inch of skin is revealed until he's removed them completely and he tosses them to the side with the rest of your clothes, leaving you totally bare in front of him. Obi-Wan just...sits there for a moment, taking you in, and you let him, relaxing back against the mattress and smiling up at him. 

"Beautiful," he breathes finally, returning your smile with a small one of his own before he's shifting down, keeping his eyes on yours as his lips brush against your hip. He reaches forward and runs one finger through the lips of your cunt lightly, almost teasingly, watching you gasp and try to grind down into it. "Would you like it if I tasted you here, Darling?" Obi-Wan hums, continuing to press kisses along your hip and the insides of your thighs while he waits for an answer and, Maker, the coarseness of his beard against the sensitive skin there robs you of all conscious thought. All you're able to manage is a nod because you're so strung out and you need him there right now but that seems to be enough for him because he starts leaning in, one hand on each of your thighs as he licks a broad stripe right through your cunt. 

Stars, you can't even form the words right now to talk him through this like he'd asked, but he...doesn't actually really seem to need your help, here. The Jedi focuses in on your clit right away, swirling his tongue around the little bud before he sucks it into the wet heat of his mouth and you nearly sob at how good it feels. "D-Doing so good, Baby," you manage to get out, and the words almost come out as more of a mewl as he hums around your clit, sending jolts right through you. 

You whine in protest when his mouth leaves your clit but his thumb replaces it soon after, rubbing slow circles around it like he's trying to drive you insane on purpose. And then, Maker, his tongue dips into your entrance, licking up inside you while all you can do is sob your pleasure into the air. He keeps going this way for several minutes, steadily working you higher and higher with his tongue buried in your cunt and his thumb strumming your clit until your thighs start to tremble and you feel that coil inside you start to wind tighter. Obi-Wan moans between your legs as when he realizes you're approaching your end and steps up his ministrations, his thumb picking up speed until your back arches underneath him. The orgasm burns its way through you, slow but intense, until you're nearly cross-eyed and delirious with it and he keeps working you through it until you're shaking with overstimulation and pushing his head away. 

The Jedi goes willingly when you push him back into a seated position once you've managed to regain your bearings, and Maker, he's a sight like this; his hair just hopelessly disheveled from your fingers in it and your slick coating his chin and kiss-swollen lips. You take a moment to just look at him, committing this image to memory for all of those nights after he leaves when you know you'll look back and picture this with your hand between your thighs. His hands find your hips as you crawl into his lap and settle there, squeezing gently and letting out a soft moan when you lean in to kiss him. Obi-Wan is the one that licks into your mouth this time, mimicking the way your tongue had tangled with his at the start of this until you're moaning into it. 

He gasps into the kiss when you reach down between you to take his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly while you shift in his lap and Stars, you swear the Jedi underneath you stops breathing entirely when you line him up and the head of his cock presses right up against your entrance. "Maker, please," he begs then on a broken moan, pulling out of the kiss to catch his breath but leaving his forehead pressed up against yours. He opens his eyes to hold your gaze intently as you start to sink down onto him, crying out at the fucking stretch of it. You take your time taking his cock, both for his benefit and your own, and the slow intrusion into your cunt has you shaking before he even bottoms out. 

"Fuck, you feel so f-fucking good," 

And it does. You have to take a minute to adjust once you've taken him to the root before you can move, gripping his shoulders tightly in an attempt to ground yourself, and his hands tighten on your hips in response. The Jedi looks like he might implode if you don't move so you take pity on him, sweeping him into another heated kiss as you roll your hips forward and swallowing his ragged gasp that escapes his throat. You keep the pace slow at first, steady, working yourself open and easing him into the motion and the way your pussy feels wrapped around his cock, and you manage to keep that pace for a few minutes until it becomes too much for both of you.

Obi-Wan's hips buck up at the same time your hips rock forward and you choke on a loud cry, throwing your head back when the head of his cock suddenly hits you right in the sweet spot. He seems to realize that you liked it because he does it again and again, his hands suddenly becoming vices around your hips as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep bouncing in his lap as best you can with his hold on you, meeting him thrust for thrust and Maker, nothing you'd imagined has anything on this. You bury your face in the side of his neck in a pitiful attempt to muffle the sounds that are leaving your throat, sucking and biting at the skin you find there and enjoying the moans you get out of him in return.  

You suddenly find yourself on your back with the Jedi above you, swallowing down the gasp that tears out of you as he claims your mouth in a searing kiss. Obi-Wan starts thrusting again immediately as he lets instinct take over, leaning forward on his elbow next to your head to give him better leverage. You nibble on his lower lip as you bring your legs up around his waist, gasping into his mouth when he fucking growls at the feel of your teeth and knotting your fingers in the strands of his hair again. His free hand comes up to cup the side of your face, holding you in place while he kisses the breath from your lungs. 

You're not going to last much longer, if the way your cunt is already starting to tighten around him is anything to go by. He shifts his hips just slightly, down and to the side, and you almost scream when he manages to find an angle that has the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot straight on at the same time as the warm skin of his torso brushes against your clit on each thrust in. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he get the hang of this so fast? He's going to kriffing kill you, if he keeps this up. "Stars, Obi," you sob out, "I'm gonna--"

The Jedi presses one last firm kiss to your mouth before he's pulling back to watch you fall apart, his hand leaving your face and moving down your body until he's stroking your aching clit with his thumb again, rubbing it in fast, small circles like he's learned you like it as he continues fucking into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Right behind you, Darling," he grits out, his voice coming strained and wrecked and you know he means it. It only takes one, two, three more thrusts before you just fucking shatter, crying out into the air and trembling as the orgasm obliterates you. He follows not half a dozen thrusts later, burying his face in your neck and gasping as he fills you with everything he has, his hips still pumping lazily as he comes down. 

Eventually, the Jedi collapses down on the bed next to you, reaching over to brush some of the hair out of your face and giving you a dopey grin that's such a wild juxtaposition from his usual composure and his reputation that it makes you giggle, unable to help yourself. He raises an eyebrow at you playfully but it only makes you laugh harder, shaking your head. "Maker," you breathe, finally, because you can't seem to string together anything else. Obi-Wan chuckles next to you and reaches over to pull you back into his chest, burying his face in your hair while he tries to catch his own breath. "You are...a very quick study. Maker."

You can't see him grin, but you can hear it in his voice when he speaks again. "I'm glad you're pleased," he teases, and you only roll your eyes before letting yourself fully relax against him. Your eyes start to droop but you don't have the energy to fight to keep them open, and you end up falling asleep right there in his arms.

He lets you.

You wake up the next morning almost unbearably warm, and when you go to try and sit up, you find that you can't. You freeze as a half-baked realization suddenly comes over you, hesitantly cracking your eyes open.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Oh, kriff. 

You fell asleep here last night. In the Jedi's bed. With the Jedi. He, it turns out, is the reason that you can't move. Obi-Wan's got both arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you against his chest with his legs tangled up with yours, and Maker you would never have pegged this man for a cuddler but you couldn't be more wrong, apparently. It does, however, create quite an interesting problem for you.

This is his last morning here before he leaves to return to Coruscant. He and Skywalker are supposed to leave early, before even breakfast. Skywalker will, doubtlessly, be coming around to see what's what's holding his old master up, and soon--and you are still here. 

Where you are. Definitely. Not supposed to be.

You don't know how much time you have but you know that it isn't much. You have got to get out of here before Obi-Wan's pain in the ass prior padawan shows up, and the Jedi looks so peaceful like this that you kind of wish you could just let him sleep but you really don't want to just sneak out on him after last night. So you sigh, reaching up to shake his shoulder gently. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, we have to get up."

It doesn't take much to wake him, thankfully, and he lets go of you to prop himself up on his elbow as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep as he peers down at you, not quite as surprised to see you there as you'd have maybe expected him to be. 

You don't even get a chance to answer him because there's suddenly a knock on the door, and both of your eyes widen at it. Skywalker. "Obi-Wan?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are your clothes? You're out of the bed before Obi-Wan even has a chance to stop you, frantically trying to find your clothes and put them on. You toss his trousers at his chest when you come across them and that seems to be what finally spurs him into motion, standing up so he can get them on as he calls back to the other Jedi. "What is it, Anakin?"

There's a moment of confused silence, then: "Cody's landing the transport now."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth like he's about to tell his old padawan that he'll be out momentarily, but doesn't get a chance to get the actual words out before you both hear the hiss of the door starting to slide open. Thank the Maker, you just manage to get your tunic back on before Skywalker comes into sight, and you do your best to try to look fucking normal as his eyes flicker between you but your heart fucking stops when you glance to the left of you and realize that Obi-Wan still isn't wearing a fucking shirt. His entire chest is exposed, which means that all of the marks you left scattered across it are also exposed. Fuck, fuck, fuck--

"I'll just. I'll just see you on the transport."

Skywalker is gone before either of you can react, the door sliding shut behind him. Your next breath leaves your lungs with enough force that it's almost a wheeze, and you have to bend over and put your hands on your knees for a second while you try to process what the fuck just happened. Obi-Wan blinks next to you, looking directly ahead for a second or two more before he suddenly starts chuckling, and you stare at him incredulously. "I'm sorry," he says finally, "That was just…"

You're laughing too, then, shaking your head as you step back over to him, ducking down to grab his shirt from where you can see it on the floor. You place the fabric in his hands and lean up on your toes to press a light kiss to his cheek, giving him a small smile. "Until next time, Master Kenobi?"

He gives you a small smile in return, and surprises you a little bit when he leans in himself and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "Until next time."

Mercifully, no-one questions him when Obi-Wan finally makes it to the transport. He intentionally doesn't look at Anakin even though he can feel the other man's eyes on him as he finds his seat and sits down, straightening his robes. He finds it difficult to keep the smile completely off his face so he just ducks his head instead in the guise of settling in for the flight and studiously ignores the way Anakin is still staring at him. 

"How was your trip, General?" Cody asks, leaning around in the pilot's seat to look back at him once they've left the planet's atmosphere. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to answer but Anakin's there first, suddenly grinning ear-to-ear in a way that makes him distinctly uncomfortable. 

"Oh, the General had a wonderful time." the younger man drawls, looking him right in the eyes as he does, and Obi-Wan wonders not for the first time if Qui-Gon died and left Anakin in his care as some inhumane form of punishment. "Made significant strides with relations and learned a lot, I'm sure."

"Oh, well, that's good, Sir." Cody responds, and Obi-Wan really dearly hopes he's as unaware of the insinuation as he sounds. Cody really does not need to know these things. Anakin does not need to know these things. "I'm glad your mission was productive."

Anakin opens his mouth like he's going to say something else but closes it abruptly and grins instead when Obi-Wan glares at him and shakes his head slowly in warning. "Thank you, Cody." Obi-Wan says instead, leaning back in his seat and letting his eyes close as he tries to relax. Maker, he can still feel the effects of the night before, his muscles are more sore than he would have expected and he finds that he's very aware of the bruises you'd left behind and it's...strangely pleasant. 

He's not allowed to have emotional attachments, but. He kind of does hope that he'll see you again one day anyway. Until next time, Master Kenobi. 

[generallynerdy]

One life, I thought—a thousand deaths (Jon Antilles & Fay)

Summary: On Queyta, Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the only one to escape Durge and Ventress. One of the four legendary Masters, Jon Antilles, emerges from a lava stream despite knowing he’s going to die. He’s so sure of it that he crawls his way to Fay’s side, wanting to spend his last moments with the woman who he considers his Master. But she has other plans. Plans to make certain that Jon Antilles lives past today.

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, On-Screen Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, there’s both sorry, Self-Sacrifice, The Curse of Immortality, holy shit i made myself sad dude Word Count: 2,191

Prompt: Angstpril Day 2 - Sole Survivor

Author’s Note: listen I know nobody knows about these characters that are in literally one comic but I have FEELINGS about them okay?? Jon is meant to be a badass mysterious enigma but he screams sad boi and Fay is like...the greatest cryptid Jedi ever, I love her. So, of course, I decided to make them and Knol and Nico suffer. (Also I know Obi-Wan survived the mission but the Sole Survivor still applies because Jon is the sole survivor of the four legendary Masters, just in case that wasn’t clear.) I just finished this today, so the editing is minimal.

Read on AO3

*

Using the Force as a shield is, in theory, one of the easier skills a Jedi utilizes. That is assuming, of course, that the Jedi in question is in good health, a decent mental state, and isn’t under a severe amount of stress. If said Jedi is, say, three feet into a pool of lava, already bearing grievous injuries and the weight of the deaths of two close companions, and feeling the fading life of another, the simple task, understandably, becomes something of a problem.

Jon has finally managed to pull the Force around him like a blanket. It protects him from the bubbling lake around him now, but the first few seconds he couldn’t pull it off were torture.

As it turns out, lava burns. It burns like shame, like failure, like the nightmares Jon used to have about his Master abandoning him on a planet in Hutt space for getting just a little too mouthy. And it hurts nearly as much.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He makes a rule of not cursing, but right now feels like an appropriate time to break it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He claws at the charred remains of his robes. Contrary to popular belief, lava doesn’t melt initially, as Jon now knows. Instead of melting, he burst into flames for the few seconds it took to pull himself together, though they felt like an eternity. Red, throbbing burns litter his entire body, his hair singed but miraculously intact thanks to his hood, which is entirely ashes now. The pain consumes his thoughts, making his shielding start to flicker in and out.

And then, through the debilitating agony, a touch of something familiar.

Jon’s eyes fly open. “Fay,” he whispers.

Her light is dimmer than it should be, not flickering in and out mischievously like it usually does. But still, she makes an effort to reach out, to check on him. It sends a sob up his throat.

“Hold on, Fay, hold on.”

Clenching his fists, he opens himself up to the Force. His actions are ones of faith, not of desperation, and he lets it flow through him as he takes a deep breath. The idea of using one of his Master’s abilities would normally make him nauseous, but the disgust doesn’t even cross his mind this time as he prepares to teleport. He thinks of that open, flat space of rock that Obi-Wan and Fay ran to, their enemies close behind. Focusing fiercely on that distant image, he pulls on the Force and folds the two points—

Jon collapses on solid ground with a heaving gasp.

Every inch of his body protests the change, especially his knees, which burn when they make contact with the ground, but somehow he manages to ignore his own complaints.

Fay isn’t far, or she shouldn’t be, at least. The distance between them seems gaping when he tries to move.

Still, her light is fading fast. And he wants to be by her side.

So, Jon Antilles crawls on hands and knees, dragging his body across sharp stones and past bubbling streams of lava. He aches with each movement and cries out when it becomes too much, but he persists regardless. Something in him knows it may be the last thing he ever does.

Finally, he sees her.

She’s sprawled out, her chest hardly moving as her breathing becomes shallow. Her near-golden hair is filthy with ash and her eyes are dim. She’s hardly herself, Jon thinks, and feels his stomach sink.

Hundreds of years the great Master Fay has lived and breathed. Hundreds of years and he’s going to watch her die today.

“Jon,” she calls out weakly.

He pulls himself to her side, grabbing her hand with his own shaky ones. “I’m here, Master.”

They only met when he was a teenager, but he feels as if he’s known her all his life. They’ve travelled the Outer Rim together, following the Force, for decades now and he’s never regretted a second of it. In all but title, Fay is his Master. She was always better than Dark Woman, even when the bar was six feet under. The only record with both their names will be at the Temple, where the dead are listed, a handful of mission reports with other Jedi, and the stories the younglings share of the 4 legendary, nomadic Masters.

“Knol and Nico,” Fay breathes out, “they’re one with the Force.”

Jon grimaces. “Yes. And the Force is with us.”

She laughs, breathy and half-choked. It’s an old lesson, familiar and grounding. “And so too are they,” she adds.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?”

“Gone, with the cure.” She smiles just a little. “The Republic fights another day.”

Suddenly grim, he squeezes her hand. “But not us.”

A pause.

“But not us.”

The silence overwhelms them. The wind whistles in the distance, carrying with it nothing but smoke and ashes. Queyta isn’t the best place to die, Jon thinks absently. He would rather it have been someplace with flowers.

“I wish it could’ve been Jedha.”

He almost jumps at her voice, but her words jarr a surprised laugh from his sore lungs. “Jedha? I thought you hated cold planets.”

“Oh, yes, but not that one. Force, I should have taken you. The Force there is so...so strong, so pure, you can feel the kyber from the surface,” she explains, staring straight up at him. If anyone else were to gaze so intensely at his scars, he’d be uncomfortable, but she’s safe. She’s family. “And the Guardians of the Whills are so kind. I met a young one of theirs some decades ago. You two would’ve gotten along.”

Jon laughs a little. “You’re always looking to find me friends, Fay.”

Her smile turns sad and she lifts a hand to his face, letting it rest on his cheek. “You’re so young,” she whispers. “Too young to be so lonely, Jon.”

He shuts his eyes, lets himself be comforted by her touch. When he opens them again, she still has that gut-wrenching look on her face. He places his hand on top of hers, unsurprised at how cold they are despite the blistering heat.

“I’m not lonely,” he promises.

Jon doesn’t say that it’s because of her, Knol, and Nico, but Fay picks up the thought anyway. Her eyes fill with tears.

“I have watched so many I love die.” Fay’s voice wavers as she says it. He realises that it’s the first time he’s ever heard it do that. To be honest, he’d thought it was impossible. “Taken by age, by Darkness, by foolishness. Never have I met a soul as good as yours, Jon. And never a Jedi so worthy of love.”

“Fay…”

She shakes her head. “Your Master did not deserve you. The galaxy did not deserve you.”

Pulling her hand away from him, Jon squeezes it. “You did,” he says firmly, though his voice cracks.

“I hope so,” she admits with a rueful laugh. “I hope so.”

He smiles weakly. “I wish you’d found me first. But I thin-I think the Force knew when I needed you to save me. Because you did save me, Master. I could never thank you enough.”

She takes his word silently, holding his hand even tighter. “You never needed to.”

“Thank you,” he says now, even though it’s useless.

Fay’s grey eyes meet his pale ones and suddenly, she’s distressed. “You’re so young,” she repeats.

But Jon can see that she means something else this time.

“Not too young to do my duty.”

“Too young to die doing it.”

Jon thinks of Tan Yuster, one of four Padawans to die on Geonosis. The Jedi have experienced great loss these past months since the beginning of the war and so many so much younger than Jon have died in battle, the clones included. Of course, to Fay, they all may as well be children.

“I will go proudly into the Force,” he promises her. At your side.

Fay’s expression twists. “No.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think we have a say in it.”

“The Force let me live this long,” she says suddenly, as if it’s a realisation, “longer than I should have. Obi-Wan is gone, I’ve done what good I can, except...you’re here. Why are we here?”

“To say goodbye,” Jon offers.

She shakes her head, then tries to sit up, struggling until her would-be Padawan helps pull her up. “I’m done with goodbyes.”

“What are you—?”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his question. Fay presses their foreheads together and grabs his hands with a newfound energy that terrifies him. Chills go up his spine when her presence in the Force covers him like a blanket. Warmth climbs up his hands, then his arms, and with a glance down he finds that his skin is healing.

“Fay, no!” he cries, trying to shove her away.

She only tightens her grip. “Stay still, Jon.”

She sounds more like herself, certain and unwavering. Jon would be happy-crying if he weren’t horrified. He tries to drag himself out of her grip, but she’s impossibly strong. Her healing creeps up his entire body, soothing his burns, though scars remain behind.

“No, no, no—FAY! Fay, stop it!” His screams turn to sobs. “You’ll die, stop—!”

“I already am,” she says, just as certain in her abilities as her fate. “But you don’t have to.”

Trembling, his attempts are weaker now but still there. “Please, please,” he begs. “Not without you!”

Tears stream down her cheeks. She allows herself a moment of weakness; she opens her eyes and meets his tearful gaze, remembering the teenager she first met. He was so scared and so brave. And for a moment, she’d thought he must be a ghost. But no, he was just a boy. For the first time in a long time, she had let herself build a bridge between them, like Knol and Nico before him, even knowing she would have to watch him die one day.

Now, she thinks with fierce stubbornness, she won’t have to.

It feels like her life is leaving her for him, though she knows it’s just fading into the Force. It’s to it that she speaks, the cosmic energy she’s dedicated her long, long life to.

“If anyone is deserving of the time you’ve given me,” she gasps out, “it is Jon Antilles.”

She doesn’t see the horror in Jon’s face, but she can feel it in his quiet Force-presence, so subdued. He hides himself on purpose and it truly breaks her heart. His light is so strong. The galaxy is all the better for his existence.

“I don’t want this! Fay, I don’t—let me die, please—”

Fay only lifts her head and kisses his forehead, the sort of gentle gesture a mother might give her son. “One day,” she promises. It rings with truth, with the strength of the Force behind it. “But not today.”

Jon cries out and tries to rip himself away, but freezes when pure light washes over him. The warmth he’s always associated with Fay soaks into him, healing all his wounds in an instant and rejuvenating his fading energy. Stars burst before his eyes, like he’s seeing into the very universe beyond Queyta, beyond what he’s meant to see with his petty Human eyes. In another instant, it’s gone and Fay is slumping over.

She falls to the ground with a thump, a noise that jolts Jon back into focus.

“Master!” he sobs.

He pulls her up from the ground with the sickening realisation that she’s a complete deadweight. She’s limp in his arms, already paling. Desperate, Jon pushes her hair out of her face and finds...nothing. Her eyes are dull. With his fingers on her wrist, he can’t feel a pulse.

“Fay?”

The steady beat of her Force-presence is gone, a gaping hole in his universe. Their bond, one strong enough to resemble a training bond, is shattered, a physical pain that throbs in his skull.

Jon begins to hyperventilate, his sudden gasps for breath burning his now-perfect lungs.

“Come back,” he begs Fay’s corpse. “Fuck, please. Please, come back.”

He pulls her into his lap, clutching her robes like a child being left behind for the first time. It doesn’t hurt to move anymore and, thank the Force for it because his entire body shakes with the force of his cries.

Overwhelmed with grief he’s never experienced, Jon wails into Fay’s shoulder, rocking back and forth. The agonizing sound rings across the valley, a noise like torture.

It’s only now that he feels the frayed edges of his bonds with Knol and Nico.

He screams again, his vocal cords protesting it sharply.

The last time Jon was this alone, he was a child. And now, he’s right back where he was before he met his three closest companions. Except now, now, he knows what it means to love and to lose. It aches. It aches like nothing he’s ever felt.

“Please,” he whispers hoarsely. “I can’t—I need you. What do I do? What am I supposed to do?”

He never gets an answer.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[karasu-hieis-dragon]

PEACE AND CHAOS

Sith Kenobi and my Jedi OC Kyrhyraeth Scath. Kyra has been fighting her feelings for Obi Wan Kenobi for years. She would never allow herself to give in because her loyalty to the Order is too strong.

Or so she thought.

I am marking this Explicit NSFW 18+ because of smut in later chapters and cussing.

Sith Kenobi is a gentleman, he will never take what he wants from Kyra. Permission is hot. I will beat a mother fucker with another mother fucker who says otherwise. There is a small amount of man handling though so if that is a trigger please keep scrolling.

Peace and Chaos Chapt. 1

The heavy rain was falling onto the city streets from the dark Coruscant sky, the drops slamming onto the ground, hitting your ears like echoes of ancient chants from a time long gone. She stood out in the storm letting the rhythm of the water pour onto her cloak, she imagined this is what it felt like having fingers strumming across an instrument. She was used to the cold rain, it always made her feel renewed, it was never a bother, in fact it made her feel powerful. As a child she would crave the storms that would rage outside, it calmed her mind when the water would hit her bedroom window, it was like music to her ears. No, the rain never did bother her, what did though was the dark red tendrils that were weaving their way into her Force signature. The swirling red vortex mixing with hers, it was never unsettling and if she was being honest it felt like home.

Bastard.

She knew who it was, she knew what he wanted and no amount of closing herself off helped. He knew her too well he always knew how to get in, he always could but she would always let him in no matter what. They were just children when they met at the Jedi Temple, both ripped from their homes - or at least that is how they felt at the time – brought in at the age of ten to train to become Jedi. Trained to be peacekeepers only to be thrown into a war neither wanted to fight in. She will never forget the day they met, they were just children, but their bond was instant.

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The first day of Jedi training for the young Force Sensitives was with Master Yoda, the Younglings were brought into a big room and told to have a seat on the floor. She held off sitting so she could look around the room at all the Younglings to see who she may want to sit next to and the moment she saw him she knew she wanted to sit next to him. All the other kids were already sitting up front and center talking to each other eager to learn how to become a Jedi. But not him, no, he was alone in the corner as if he was trying to hide, focused looking at his hands folded on his lap. He looked scared and it made her sad, there was something pushing her to meet him, a tugging inside of her soul that told her this was the right thing to do. So, without any more hesitation she walked over and sat down by his side. She felt as if she was home. When she took her place next to him, he looked over at her and just smiled, even back then his smile was warm, and it called to her. Looking at her with those eyes so blue they looked like the storms she loved to watch through her bedroom window back home.

She reached her hand out to him and asked his name, he surprisingly didn’t hesitate he just moved his hand out slowly and shook her hand. It must have taken every ounce of confidence he could gather to respond “I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi” whispered in a shy voice. His face lit up though when she repeated his name back to him “Obi-Wan Kenobi. That’s a neat name.” He didn’t let her hand go he just kept slowly shaking her hand up and down and after what felt like a lifetime he finally sputtered out “W - what’s um, what’s you – your name?” Without missing a beat, she said “I am Kyrhyraeth Scath but you can call me Kyra” followed by a little giggle. From that moment on the two were inseparable.

She liked to tell herself the reason they had bonded so quickly was because she had punched another Youngling across the face for him, but she knew better than that. At lunch that first day a Bantha of a kid came up and stole his dessert right from his tray, Kyra didn’t even think twice, she just walked up to the kid, hauled off and punched him. She came bouncing back with his dessert in hand leaving the Youngling behind her bleeding and crying.

It left Obi-Wan totally speechless.

Looking back though she realized it was the balance between her and Obi-Wan. Where Kyra saw a chaotic storm in his eyes, Obi-Wan saw a calming peace in hers. It was almost tragic but they both found solace in each other.

They were drawn to each other’s energy.

Balance.

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Kyra was trying to remain strong; she knew it was wrong to go see him but like a moth to the flame...

If the Jedi Council knew she was in contact with him there would be repercussions and she could not allow that to happen. She thought the rain would help drowned him out, but it seemed to only make it worse. The red tendrils wove their way into her head, swirling and mixing with her purple Force signature. Purple. Of all the kyber colors that could have chosen her, she gets purple. Both light and dark power. Rare. Obi-Wan had tried to comfort her the day they built their lightsabers but it was futile, it was supposed to be a day to celebrate but all she could think about was that she would be susceptible to the Dark Side.

In a way, her younger self was right.

You know you are going to come see me you always do.

Maker, Kenobi, why are you doing this?

Last name basis now? I am crushed.

Fuck off.

Only if you’re the one I’m fucking.

Where are you?

You know.

And just as quickly as he had invaded Kyra’s head, he left it just as fast, knowing it would drive her crazy.

And it did.

He knew every kriffing button to push and she fell for it every fucking time. She allowed it, she craved it. She needed his chaos.

Soaking wet, standing outside his door like a lost loth cat, dripping wet and cold. Cursing at herself for always falling for his shit.

If the Council knew…

But she didn’t have a chance to finish her thought, the door abruptly opened cutting it off. Of course, he knew she was out there, kriffing Force bond. He leaned against the door frame in the cockiest fashion looking very much like a Sith Lord. Dressed in all black, black fitted tunic, loose pants and red belt draped around his waist perfectly.

Maker, Why does he have to look so handsome? Those tortured amber eyes that replaced the beautiful cerulean hue, they still sparkled every time they saw her and she wasn’t sure how that was possible.

“It’s because you make me happy.”

“Shut up.”

“Your feelings betray your tone, little one.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you Sith bastard.”

“Again, your feelings betray you.”

She tried storming past him to get inside and out of the rain, knocking into his arm hard as she tried to push by. Before she could get even a step past him, he had reached out grabbing her arm, slamming her back against the wall. He pinned her hands back with the Force then using his right hand he grabbed her chin making her look up to have direct eye contact with him. Kyra looked at him with defiance, she knew he would never hurt her, so she stood her ground. This only made it worse, he loved when she didn’t take his shit.

“Let me fucking go, Kenobi”

“Say my real name.”

Bending down slightly he brought his lips to her ear and with a low growl he whispered.

“My Sith name.”

Kyra tensed up, he could feel it in his bones, and he relished in it.

“That is NOT your real name Obi-Wan and I would rather you kill me than even whisper that filthy name.”

“You wound me.” Tsking low into her ear. “Do you find me so barbaric that you think I would ever kill you? Besides, Kyrhyraeth if I kill you how would I ever make you…” He took in a deep breath then exhaled right next to her ear. “…scream my name.”

It took all of Kyra’s strength not to collapse, feeling the burn swirling in her stomach and the pooling between her legs that wasn’t rainwater.

“Oooh, you like that thought.”

Obi-Wan pulled back, snaking his calloused hand across Kyra's cheek then gently grabbed a handful of her wet hair. He was mere inches from her face – Stars, why does he have to smell so good? His warm body pressed against hers, amber eyes lit with the flames from the candles he had burning in the room, lips twisted in a sensual smirk. He knew she wasn’t going to budge; she never gave into him when it came to intimacy but that didn’t stop him from trying. He knew she craved him so he was relentless but Kyra never wavered, the Order was too important to her.

He has never met another person like her, she was a perfect storm. Defiant but loyal. Strong but caring. Dedicated but so fucking reckless. She was perfection.

He looked down at her wet, dripping form and he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was pinned to the wall by him. Her drenched flaming red hair was sticking to her pale, freckled face, those fierce blue eyes staring up at him with all the strength she could conjure yet - there was something else there, there always was.

They were filled with love.

Love for him, a Sith Lord and no matter how hard she tried to hide it; he knew she loved him. Just like he loved her except he would never try and hide that from her. Ever.

Fuck her Jedi Code.

Her lips were closed into a tight perse, eyes narrowed now shooting daggers at him. He loved it, he loved that he caused her to react this way, he thrived off it just as much as she did, but he would never cross a line she didn’t invite him to cross. He was a Sith, yes but he will always respect her, she was his universe, he would never take his anger and hate out on her. She deserved better than that, she deserved better than what the Jedi Council offered her as well.

She saw his eyes soften, and his face relax. As hard as she tried to put on a good act she knew he saw right through her, so many times almost caving, before he became a Sith and after, neither were easy to say no to and right now was proving to be no different. He was so close, his eyes pleading with hers, all she had to do was give him the hint of an approval and his lips would come crashing down on hers. She needed to push those type of thoughts aside though, she was already giving a big fuck you to the Order by forming this kriffing attachment to a Sith she will be damn if she makes it worse.

“Please let me go, Obi-Wan”

Kyra felt his Force grip and hand grip loosen, hands dropping to his sides in mock defeat, but his eyes never left hers. He finally allowed her to walk past him, he had a fire lit so it warm in his apartment and it felt really good. She was freezing in her wet clothes.

Without a word he turned on his heel and walked into his bedroom, returning a few minutes later with one of his long sleeve shirts, a pair of pajama pants and a towel, all of them black.

“Here, as much as I love seeing you disheveled, you’re going to get sick if you stay in those wet rags” He smirked at his jab towards the Order for their choice of robes they made the Jedi wear.

She knew he wasn’t going to let up so she grabbed the dry clothes out of his hands and headed to the refresher. She looked at herself in the mirror, hair tangled, face flush and her robes a wrinkled wet mess. She didn’t understand his attraction to her, he could have any woman he wanted in the galaxy but he always came to her. Then the memories started to flood her brain, it had been the worst fucking year of her life. They had fought the night before he left on his mission to protect the Duchess of Mandalore. He begged her to let her dedication to the Jedi Order go, he was so worried he wouldn’t make it back alive and he wanted to have what could have been their last night together to be special.

But she denied him, he poured his heart out to her, and she fucking denied him. Not only that, she had lied to herself. He was everything to her and she let him leave not knowing if she would ever see him again. She let him leave thinking she didn’t want him. It was the biggest regret of her life because she did love him but she refused to tell him. He loved her but she broke him. Then much to her distain he allowed the Duchess to put him back together. Kyra was all he ever fucking wanted.

Until Satine.

Tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Kyra took a deep breath cursing herself as she removed her lightsaber, focusing on the cold, black metal in her hand. Putting it down on the sink she got undressed and stepped into the shower turning the water on to the hottest setting letting the water pour over her. Get yourself together for fucks sake. She grabbed his soap and it smelled distinctively like Obi-Wan. Gods, why does he have to smell so good? Spicy, woodsy and….Maker, why does he do this to me? Kriff, how the hells am I still a Jedi?

She finished washing her body and hair then she just stayed there letting the hot water run out before she allowed herself to get out. After drying off she slipped into his shirt and pajama pants, throwing her hair up in the towel. When she walked back out to the living room she noticed he had put out some cheeses, meats, crackers and a fresh pot of tea. He was standing facing the fire, fists balled up she could feel his unease. Kyra sat down on his overly plush sofa and poured them both some tea trying to ignore the tension, then he finally spoke.

“She didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Are we really going to do this right now?”

He still wouldn’t face her, she knew it was because he was ashamed.

“It doesn’t matter Obi-Wan, you owe me nothing. You were protecting her and were on the run for a year. Shared trauma. I don’t blame you.”

“I know it still hurts you.”

“A lot still hurts me.”

He finally turned around, eyes solemn.

“You’re a terrible Sith, you know that?” She teased.

“Only when I’m around you.”

Smiling weakly he walked over to taking a seat next to her on the sofa.

“You know, while we are on the subject the same could be said about you, Jedi.”

“I like you better when you’re a dick.” Kyra smiled weakly.

You both sat there in silence, sipping tea, enjoying the delicious treats he had put out for the two of you. Though comfortable there was still the underlining tension of so many things not said. As many times as Kyra had agreed to see him this is the first-time things had escalated this way. It was usually quick meetings to have kaf and catch up and torture each other but this time it was different, and she couldn’t figure out why. Suddenly the silence was deafening. Before she realized what she was doing and before she could stop herself, she blurted out a question that she instantly wished she could take back.

“Did you love her?”

Silence.

Fuck it, I have taken it this far and the damage is done.

“I asked you a question.”

Silence again, he just sat there looking at his hands on his lap, like he did the first day she met him.

“Answer. Me.”

He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes.

“Yes, but not the way you are thinking. Yes, I cared for her as a friend but that was as far as the love went. I would never allow myself. She was just a pawn to get back at you for hurting me.”

He opened his eyes to look at Kyra who was sitting there with tears streaming down her face. Suddenly there was rage behind her eyes, as many times as he has pushed her, he has never seen her allow that emotion to take over her. Even in the worst of battles she was composed. No, his little Jedi was at her breaking point and it made him tense.

Shit.

The next words she spoke were strangled as she fought to control her emotions.

“Did. You. Fuck. Her?” She stated through gritted teeth.

There it is, she finally allowed herself to let go enough to ask the question that has been plaguing her since you came back alive and stupidly told her about Satine. Obi-Wan had instantly regretted it not realizing she would harbor the pain for so long.

At the time he just wanted her to hurt like he did. Not realizing she had been hurting just as bad choosing the Jedi Code over him.

Maker, Kenobi, you’re a fucking idiot.

He was finally snapped out of his stupor by her yelling, seeing her hands curled into fists, shaking.

“YOU SITH ASSHOLE, ANSWER MY QUESTION!”

Obi-Wan turned to look her in the eyes, relieved he was finally able to tell her the truth. He gripped her shoulders; he could feel how hard she was shaking trying to control her anger and it pained him. So much of her time requires her to remain calm and not show emotions such as fear and anger. She was allowing herself to let go and it was intense. He raised his hands to cup her face using his thumbs to wipe the tears away. Her eyes were pleading with his to just answer the question.

“No, I didn’t.” He exhaled the breath he was holding, raggedly.

Then he saw a change in her eyes, the rage and pain turned to relief and something else he couldn’t identify.

Then she was crashing her lips into his.

All the pain melted away as soon as her lips touched his, she finally felt so free.

Fuck the Jedi Code.

Than you for reading please let me know if you want to be tagged for future chapters.

[aj-writes-here]

may i request one where levi's s/o gets jealous over something, so they argue but end up having make up sex? i-

I just finished this one, and I hope you like how it turned out! Remember that if you have any comments, if it is too long, if you like it, if you didn’t, feel free to send anything!🤗 Also, this was the last request I had pending so if you want to request something else, go ahead. And btw I’m only doing Levi requests (HC and scenarios) at the moment, so that’s pretty much all I have to say😅

Only You (NSFW)

Who the hell had the idea of accepting the two newly transferred people? That guy Marlo seemed like a nice someone, but surprisingly the girl who arrived with him was not Hitch. And damn y/n wish it was Hitch instead of that new reckless girl. Since she arrived, her eyes were always on the Captain, and even y/n had heard her spitting some comments about 'how hot he was, with that cold stare and attitude' but for more than she wanted it, y/n couldn't answer back, in the end, her relationship with Levi was still an unknown fact for the cadets, only Hanji and Erwin were aware of that. And they were conscious of how Carla, the newly arrived cadet had her eyes laid on Levi. How could a squad leader be jealous of a younger girl who was a real headache? She was loud, annoying, narcissist and she was always saying she was better than the rest but... She was good. She had incredible skills, good with the ODM, at fighting. That's why Carla she had made it into Levi's squad.  

The truth is, that y/n was not someone jealous, she trusted Levi with her life and she knew he had no eyes for someone else. She was everything for him and he had told her that several times, but this new girl was getting on her nerves. It wasn't the first time Carla had obvious actions and everyone would notice her, that day after training was a clear example. She had 'troubles' at taking off her straps, the one on her right thigh. Or the time after an expedition when y/n saw Levi carrying her in bridal style because she had a 'sprained ankle',  or when she had stuck to him on cleaning day. Until then, she was just an annoying brat.

After an expedition, Levi's horse tripped and he ended up with slightly injured and with a discomfort feeling on his back, fortunately, nothing was broken and probably just a bruise. At the moment they were back inside the walls, y/n went to check on him to the infirmary, peaking his head just a bit, she saw  Carla was already there, using her hands to touch his back while he was trying to put his cravat back on, how was she so brave to be there, touching the Captain's back? y/n heard how he told her to go away in his style, and when Carla was out of the room, she spoke to her friend awaiting for her outside the infirmary.

—One week and the almighty Captain will be between my legs—Blinking an eye, she kept walking.

—Good luck trying—y/n answered back to herself, knowing the true meaning behind her words.  

She was trying not to even think about that girl. As said before, she was not someone jealous, but whenever she joined Levi on expeditions made her emotions react. That same day after dinner y/n went back to her room, the same room she shared with Levi. Taking a deep breath, she made her way in. Not wanting to argue, she just remained silent and went to her room to remove her straps, Levi noticed she seemed tired so he just focused on his cup of tea watching her moves. Once y/n was back where Levi was, he decided to break the silence.

—Oi, can you check my back? It feels fucking annoying—Standing up and taking his shirt off, he was surprised by his lover's words.

—Why don't you ask Carla to help you?—y/n had sworn she was not going to snap but she did. Damn her loose tongue.

—Is that why you've been acting weird all day? Don't be ridiculous, y/n.

—Ugh, come on. She's with you all day long. And if that was not enough, you ask her to join you on expeditions.

—Because she's good and she knows what she does, brat. That's the only reason.  And you know that in open fields it's better to keep the bests soldiers in different places. You're one of the bests, I need you covering other areas.

—That doesn't explain why she was touching you today—She gave him a fake smile, jealousy being more obvious than ever. y/n stood up to face Levi.

—So you were there—He lifted an eyebrow with the same boring expression on his face— At the moment I felt her filthy hand on my back, I told her to go away. And besides, I'm dating you, aren't I?

—She even told one of her friends you would be between her legs in one week—y/n rolled her eyes and walked away from Levi, she was trying to control her emotions, but it was hard to do.

—She's a brainless brat—He turned over and he was looking at her one more time—How long have you been stressing yourself out about this?

—A few weeks—She drifted her eyes away from his face, maybe she overreacted but she couldn't help it.

—Tch, you've been an idiot then. How could you think I would be interested in her?—He asked while walking towards her, leaving no space between her back and his desk—And just for your information, brat, the only legs I will be in between will be yours.

In that very same second, y/n felt a shiver running down her spine. She didn't even have the time to think because Levi took her by her hips and sat her over his desk, starting to kiss her neck. And she was not going to deny it, she loved it when he acted like that. His lips moved to her mouth, whispering.

—I don't want anyone but you, do you get it?—Again, he kissed her deeply for a few seconds. Moving back to her sensitive neck he articulated his words one more time— You are the only one I love and the only one I want to be with, brat.

y/n felt the wetness dampening the fabric of her panties, how the fuck could he turn her on so fast? He used both of his hands to grip her shirt and tear it firmly, making the buttons jump somewhere in the room. Yes, he had just ripped her shirt with no mercy.

Holding her by the sides of her torso, he set her on the floor, so he could get rid of her pants, and after touching his thighs all the way up, y/n sat on the desk on her own, comprehending his signs. Levi moved closer to her, and when she was about to kiss her he pulled away just to tease her, and slipped one finger on her panties, smiling internally when he felt how wet she was. He left a trail of kisses from her neck to her stomach, kneeling in front of her. Using his hands to spread her legs a little more he kissed the inner part of her thigs, knowing how much that drove her crazy.  Apparently, Levi was in the mood for ripping her clothes because this time her panties were the victim. Without giving her time to think, he used his tongue to lick along her entrance, making her moan and she gripped his hair tightly in her hand, bucking up her hips against him as a reflect. Levi eating her out was complete torture and y/n knew it, the movements of his tongue were slow, tasting every single space of her.  He grabbed her by her hips and dragged her closer to his face giving complete attention to her sensitive clit, flicking his tongue against it. y/n tugged his head against her, feeling her entire body on fire because of his attentions. She laid her head back letting out a loud moan, and that response only encouraged Levi to go faster. While all of his concentration was on her clit, he decided to use two of his fingers to go inside her, moving them rapidly. Levi was already uncomfortable at the feeling of his hardened length inside his pants, henceforth he used his free hand to touch his erection over the fabric trying to relieve the sensation. A loud moan escaped y/n mouth, claiming she was close. Bad idea. Levi was a tease and he loved it, so when he felt her walls clenching around his thin fingers he took them out, also stoping the movements of his mouth.

y/n cursed him and took him by his shirt to give him a heated kiss at the same time he used his sharp hand to take off her bra, exposing her breasts.

Eagerly, y/n laid one of her hands on his crotch, moaning on his mouth when she felt how hard he was already. A gasp left Levi's lips as he spoke.

—You are the only one who can provoke this—He said harshly—

—You have no idea how happy it makes me—Smiling against his lips, she unzipped his pants so she could touch it over his boxers.

—I can tell—Levi answered with a low voice, reaching for her lips one more time.

He only stopped touching her to put his pants and underwear down, suppressing a moan when y/n grabbed his shaft on her hand, stroking him slowly. Levi moved her closer to the edge of the desk, and knowing what was next, y/n laid her hands on the piece of wood as he aligned himself on her wet entrance.

Pushing his hips forward, y/n threw her head back, closing her eyes at the feeling. Her hands left the desk and they found a place on Levi's neck and shoulders, she needed to hold on to something while he was thrusting in and out of her. The pace was slow but his lunges were hard, he kissed her jaw as he kept moving his hips against her cursing under his breath at how tight she felt around him. y/n looked for his mouth, kissing him deeply and moaning over his mouth. Her hands were moving with complete freedom on his back, digging her nails from time to time.

When their lips were far away from each other, Levi laid his forehead on her shoulder and softly grunting on her skin, he was beyond gone in pleasure. His hands were touching her thigs as he started pounding faster into her.

—Fuck, Levi—She claimed his name with no shame— Just like that, keep going.

She uttered with a hectic voice, digging her nails even harder in his back and wrapping her legs around his waist so he could go deeper into her.

Even though Levi had great self-control, right now it was hard to achieve it, and right now he didn't care. He was not teasing her, or testing her limits. He was showing her that there was no other than her, that all of his affection, love, passion, and craving belong to her. And so did he.

Levi looked at her, loving all of her expressions. Her messed hair, that thin layer of sweat that was starting to cover her forehead, all of her. Damn,  she was perfect. He felt his lower stomach starting to knot up, he dug his fingers on her skin as he was feeling closer to release. y/n was not behind either, she could feel electricity running down her spine, feeling how her walls were clenching around his dick at the same time he was twitching inside her. Accelerating the rhythm of his thrusts, y/n could feel how she was falling from heaven when her climax took over her, letting out a loud moan from her mouth. Just a few seconds later Levi's body was on complete ecstasy, meeting his end on a release that made him shiver, a strangled groan coming out of his throat. Once he stopped his now slower movements, his forehead was still laying on her shoulder as they both tried to gain their breath back. y/n hold him tightly against her naked body.

—Oi, is it clear now that I just want you, brat?—Levi asked, moving his gaze to her reddish face.

—Very much—She replied with a lazy smile, cupping his cheek with her hand and kissing him.

—I love you, idiot. Only you—Levi laid his hand on her cheek and caressed her cheekbone, kissing her again. He could never get enough of her lips.

————————————

After taking a shower together, y/n changed into her sleep clothes, her shorts and one of Levi's shirts. She was about going to bed when a knock on the door stopped her actions, and since Levi was still in the bathroom, it was her who opened the door.

—Goodnight, Capt—The provocative face the girl had, turned to one of panic at seeing y/n.

—Carla?—She asked, eyes wide open.

—Squad Leader y/n. I-I—She couldn't find the words to say, and her face turned paler when she saw Levi leaving the bathroom only with a towel around his waist.

—Cadets are supposed to be sleeping at this time—Levi spoke— Get out of here before I make you and the rest run laps before the sun comes out.

They couldn't even saw the moment the girl left, she was faster than lightning. Honestly? y/n couldn't help but smile as she was closing the door. Once it was locked, she walked towards Levi.

—Do you realize that tomorrow all of them will be talking about us?—She asked with her eyes lifted and hug him by his lower back.

—It's about time they find out—Levi replied in a relaxed way, giving her a soft gaze after she kissed him.

It was sure that the girl would be telling everyone what she saw, Squad Leader y/n wearing Captain Levi's clothes, and the Captain walking out of the bathroom only wearing a towel. They had been keeping it a secret from the cadets for a year and a half, it was not a bad thing for them to know. Maybe in this way, the rumors about them and the deliberate flirting would cease, but it was clear now for y/n and Levi. They belong to each other, today and always.

[quidfree]

tdbk hurt/comfort?

writing this just made me think about my long-running theory that principal nezu is a mastermind villain who is taking out his grudge on humanity via slowly destroying the next generation of heroes bc how ELSE can you explain the amount of personal injury-lawsuits-that-never-were within UA’s supervision 

anyways i would have made this w shouto injured but i feel like IGFTD already has enough of bakugou babysitting him so *reverse uno*

(definitely not at all thinking abt the latest updates of the manga aha..ha)

it’s hardly the first time shouto has seen bakugou get his ass beat. he doesn’t have midoriya’s abysmal track record, but midoriya mostly destroys himself; bakugou tends to get battered by external forces. now that he’s thinking about it he can’t think of another classmate with worse luck, except maybe mineta, but that’s more punitive justice than anything.

habit is a great deadener, or so he’s read. that may be true on a day-to-day basis, but it does nothing to diminish the gut-punch of worry when bakugou’s explosions stutter to a halt so abruptly that it makes him look up just in time to see him plummeting out of the sky, jagged shard of rock protruding through his chest.

midoriya is yelling from somewhere, panicked cry of ‘kacchan!’ turning into a furious scream midway, and shouto is skating upwards on instinct, ice solidifying beneath his feet, arms extending and pulse thudding with memories of ‘how sad, todoroki shouto’ echoing through his mind. 

not so slow, this time. bakugou knocks right into him, gauntlets and all, heavy enough to knock them both off the ice; it shifts and reforms beneath them as he grapples for a better hold. somewhere above them a berserk midoriya is exploding into green light, blows breaking through the villain’s crumbling shell as the mountainside continues to fall apart; shouto’s hands are slick with what he can only hope is sweat as he rides the ice to safety.

they land roughly between the trees, rumbling from above muffled through the foliage just enough that he can hear bakugou cussing, which he has rarely been so happy to hear. 

“get your damn hands off me, icyhot,” bakugou snaps, as shouto’s heartbeat slows incrementally. when their eyes meet his are uncharacteristically hazy, sweat and grime sticking his hair to his face. 

shouto’s eyes lower, and his gut clenches. 

“stop that,” bakugou demands, as shouto’s ears buzz. the rock has embedded itself in his abdomen, and all around it red is soaking through even the dark materials of his suit, torso slick with blood. 

“bakugou...”

“i’m fine,” bakugou grits out, with unconvincing anger. somewhere distant there is a final sounding boom, and then the ground starts to shake. “worry about the damn- earthquake.”

“shit,” shouto says, under his breath, mind racing. earthquake, and mountain, and- landslide. and bakugou, with a poisoned piece of stone stuck right through him. 

he rises to his knees. when he moves bakugou recoils, smacking his hands away with an alarming lack of violence. 

“bakugou,” shouto says. “i’m not going to leave you behind.”

“worry about your damn self!” bakugou retorts, though his gaze flickers to the mountain above. “you’re not carrying me out of here.”

for a second, panicked frustration overwhelms him; he inhales deeply, stands. 

“fine. come on. get going.”

it’s cruel, really; bakugou’s face twists, and then he’s stumbling to his feet, leaking blood as he does. he barely makes it two steps before he’s swaying violently, face gone sheet-white under the mask. 

silently, shouto hoists an arm under his shoulder. bakugou, jaw clenched tight, looks away. it’s as much of a concession as he’ll get.

ice carries them upwards, over the trees, and he glances backwards to find bakugou’s warnings prescient: the mountain top has deteriorated, great chunks of rock sent spiralling downwards with increasing speed. midoriya and the others are fine, he tells himself. he can’t focus on two things at once.

what he can’t stop himself from focusing on, as they make rapid progress overhead, is the way that bakugou is sagging into his hold, dampness spreading through his suit; the pallor of his cheek and the rasping quality of his breaths. he feels faintly nauseous. 

bakugou isn’t dying. not now. what a stupid, ridiculous way to die this would be- three years into UA, having survived every other ridiculous thing life has thrown their way. dying at the hands of some elemental villain, for the price of diverting his attention from his exhausted classmates. 

fuck, why does this always happen to him? his fingers closing on air as dabi whisks bakugou away- his father in his grip as shigaraki pierces through bakugou right above him- it’s always like this, in his face, like fate derives some personal enjoyment out of his helplessly witnessing bakugou’s near-death experiences. 

he doesn’t realise how tight his grip is getting until bakugou hisses in unwilling pain; he relaxes it a fraction, guilt sickening, as he lowers them towards the rocks. there’s enough height and distance that the landslide won’t reach them- or won’t reach them fast enough to disrupt the process, anyways.

bakugou all-but crumples as soon as they’re on firm ground, folding inwards like a house of cards, and shouto is on his knees besides him instantly, hands fumbling for his medical kit. 

he’s a third year; he shouldn’t be so shaky when it comes to rescues, but his fingers are unsteady. 

“i’m going to have to take that out.”

“rule one of on-site aid,” bakugou rasps. his eyes are half-lidded, torso jerking irregularly as he watches shouto move.

never remove the knife from the stab wound. “i know. but you’ve seen what these rocks do. it’s hurting you worse than the blood loss can.”

“came first on the medical test, but who’s counting,” bakugou mutters. he keeps spasming, face tight with pain, and shouto remembers his brushes with the stone- like having fire ants crawling over your skin, red-hot and vicious. to have that inside of you-

ten minutes, if you’re lucky, aizawa had said. 

“i’m taking it out,” he repeats, redundantly, and wills his hands to stop shaking, ice spreading around the shard as bakugou gasps and flinches. 

“fucking- get off me, you bastard, get-”

he’s freezing around the stone now, forces himself not to react to the wet sounds of ice sliding through blood and organ to wrap itself around the intruding shard. bakugou’s cursing has turned to incoherent noise, and he can’t bring himself to look up, own breathing heavy to his ears as he coils the ice like a hook, tugs softly then harder.

“fuck!” bakugou howls, as he grits his teeth and painstakingly pulls back another fragment; a defensive explosion hits him right in the side, and he pulls too hard on instinct, whole shard yanked free as bakugou screams bloody murder. 

shouto falls back with a piece of rock the size of his forearm in his lap, covered in blood and tissue and ice, almost gets sick at the feel of it. instead he drops it hastily, slams an arm down over the gushing wound as his free hand grabs for the spray. top of the line hero resources; knits any wound back together, hatsume had promised, and why the hell had he trusted hatsume mei of all people with his tech? if this is one of her misses-

he sprays, blood splattering him in the face when he withdraws long enough to do so, and then keeps spraying so violently that his hand cramps, watching tissue knit itself in a disturbing parody of organs as the bleeding slows. 

for a beat he just sits and stares, chest rising and falling. there is still a hole through bakugou, but it’s like it’s been half-sketched in the way it’s supposed to look, veins and muscle and what could be a kidney half-fleshed out within the empty space.

“motherfucker,” bakugou chokes out, tight, and then shoves himself half-upright just in time to throw up off the side of the rock. shouto’s hands have resumed shaking.

bakugou collapses back onto the rock, arms wobbly from the exertion, and for a second he just lies there, shouto’s pulse slowing ever so slightly as he takes in the mess they’re in, blood and guts and ice and some half-mended massacre in bakugou’s abdomen. 

more than ten minutes, though. enough to get actual medical care. that has to be enough. 

“todoroki,” bakugou says. shouto startles, leans over. his gaze is unfocused, hazily attentive.

“am i dying?”

it’s said matter-of-factly; instinctively his stomach turns. 

“no.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i have never lied to you,” shouto retorts, intent. “you’re not dying.”

bakugou looks at him, brow furrowed deeply with effort as he blinks in frustration. can’t quite muster up the energy to concentrate, shouto assumes. it makes him look oddly like his younger self, all screwed up suspicion.

not dying, shouto tells himself, fiercely. not fucking dying. 

he stomps down the emotion, but he’s lost his touch over the past three years because bakugou’s mouth twitches wryly, eyes briefly sharp. 

“’f i’m not dying what’s with that look?”

“what look?”

“the fucking- hero’s crisis. failed rescue.”

“shut up,” shouto says, abruptly harsh. “that’s not- shut up. you’re not dying.”

“feel like shit though,” bakugou mutters, eyes drifting shut again. 

if the roles were reversed bakugou would have said and you look like it too. but he’s not bakugou, even if he is the only other person in the class that’s as poorly equipped to play nurse; he can’t muster the normalcy to banter. he just keeps replaying bakugou’s screaming, eyes caught on the tear-tracks on his cheeks. he hadn’t even noticed him crying during.

help is coming. help has to be coming. bakugou will last until then. but he’d hate for them to find him like this.

of its own volition, his hand retrieves a sanitary wipe from the medikit. then it’s dabbing at bakugou’s face. 

“the fuck are you- get off,” bakugou protests, albeit with more bewilderment than anger. shouto’s hands resolutely do not listen, wiping dutifully ahead, and at some point bakugou gives up, just lies there with confused annoyance in his frown. when his face is clean shouto folds the wipe away, sits back. 

“i’m sorry i made you walk earlier.”

bakugou’s eyes flicker open, slanted red. “’s whatever.”

“it was petty of me,” shouto continues, half a sigh. “i was panicking.”

“yeah, well,” bakugou mumbles. “would have kept bitching if you hadn’t, so. for the best.”

not dying, not dying, not dying. “don’t suddenly become reasonable just because you think you’re on your deathbed.”

“fuck you,” bakugou retorts, managing a snort before it turns into a coughing fit that leaves him curled up and sweating, eyes squeezed tight with pained humiliation. 

if midoriya were here, shouto thinks- but that’s stupid. he and bakugou are friends too, really. have been for much longer than bakugou would admit. he should be able to do something. 

he can’t move him, though. not with the fragile hold hatsume’s gadget has on his internal organs. he’s not exactly going to kiss him better like recovery girl would. and when it comes to conversation, he’s never really had a knack for keeping bakugou placid.

he keeps thinking about all of the times he hadn’t caught him. bakugou out of reach. that sick feeling, worsening every time. 

hesitantly, his hand finds bakugou’s. 

“what the fuck.”

instinct should make him jerk it back, but stubbornness supersedes the urge. he winds their fingers together as bakugou lifts his head to glare at him. 

“get your damn hand off me, half ‘n half.”

“no.”

bakugou tugs, hard and ineffective, falls back with an outraged glower. 

“are you fucking kidding me? what is this, a k-drama?”

“i don’t know what else to do to make you feel better,” shouto retorts, nebulously self-conscious but entirely resolute. “so unless you have any better ideas i’m not letting go.”

“it’d make me feel better if you stopped touching me!” bakugou snaps, coughing. shouto ignores him, runs his thumb over his knuckles, vague sense memories of his mother coming to him as he does. had she held his hands, back then? he thinks maybe. he can’t think where else he’d have picked it up.

bakugou has stopped struggling, but has not died. shouto relaxes a fraction.

holding hands is sort of nice. bakugou’s hand is sweaty, which makes sense, but also very hot, and calloused. after a while he sort of forgets the circumstances, just starts absently playing with it, pressing his fingers into the pads of his hand. he thinks he was right about his mother. he can sort of recall the sensation of her hands in his.

“if i don’t die,” bakugou says, after a minute, sort of resigned sounding, “i’m going to kill you.”

“yeah,” shouto says, squeezing his hand. “sure.”

he wonders if bakugou’s parents held his hand a child. he thinks probably yes. he seems like the type whose parents love him a lot in spite of his attitude. that’s mostly how everyone treats him, in the end.

mitsuki bakugou looks a lot like her son. the last time he saw her she was aggressively ruffling his hair into even greater disarray, voice strident as bakugou yelled back obscenities and made no real effort to displace her.

it must be hard, shouto reflects, for a civilian parent. midoriya’s mother certainly has reason to worry. bakugou’s is probably a close second by now.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“sorry.”

“no you’re not!”

“well, if it bothers you...”

“can you just be a normal damn person for once?”

bakugou hits him when he starts messing with his hair, but he doesn’t let go of his hand. 

(he also doesn’t kill shouto when he’s released from the hospital, but then shouto had sort of expected that.)

[astraeass]

[3] start once again;

[cross-posted in ao3 • fem reader]

Previous chapter

pairing: levi ackerman/reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of death

words: 2379

Summary:

you are finally able to choose regiment, but were you actually ready for what it awaits you?

"Yes! Another down, I’m in a fever streak!" Nile cheered with a big proud green adorning his sharp features that you wished you could rip it off his face. While he was celebrating his 5th deep cut in a wood titan dummy's nape you stood behind him, standing on a wide tree branch burning holes on his back and apparently he felt it, because he turned instantly, searching for the person who was practically planning for his death and after a while, he met your deadly gaze. His serious scowl turned into a smirk

"What happens [L/N]? Are you mad that you aren’t fast enough? The girl that had natural talent with the 3DMG is falling behind isn’t it?" You exactly knew what is he trying to do by bickering like that, and you didn’t want to fall for it, but your short-tempered behavior didn’t help at all in this situation "Shut the fuck up, Dok" You said lowly, and decided to move on. Aiming your grapple hooks to the next tree and firing when you saw that the hook gripped it well, then you activated your gas mechanism to reel forward and repeat the motion with nearby trees and branches till you found an uncommonly titan dummy without it's nape ripped of.

With determination replacing your fumed expression, you aimed towards the neck, unleashing your sharp blades from the stealths of the boxes that were situated in your tights, firing the hooks and activating the gas, making you to move towards where you aimed, you tightened the already hard grip in your blades positioning them in you to hands in a way that with a simple push of your arms plus some strength would cut the foam nape with easy, and that’s how you did. After that, you aimed and fired into a tree near you and landed with grace onto the tree's branch "Nice, that’s my 7th today" you murmured, thinking that no one would hear you, but the clapping you hear not far away make you turn around we’re you thought you heard the sound instantly.

"Good work [Y/N], you’re improving so fast!" When you turned around, you weren’t surprised seeing Erwin standing there with a proud smile in his lips, he was the origin of the claps, still your eyes widened. Not because of the older blond witnessing what could be your best 'titan kill' so far, but noticing that not far behind him, was Instructor Duvalier with an unreadable expression "That wasn’t bad, [L/N-" he said with his usual monotone both, but pride bubbled in your chest, trying to stop the grin forming in your own lips. Claude being aware of this, scoffed and crossed his arms "But don’t let your pride get you, the real shit is much different form that fucked and overused wood"

"Uh... um, yeah sure! Thank you so much, sir" you stuttered and bowed in front of him as a thank, but you weren’t aware of your closeness to the border and when you bowed, you lost your equilibrium making you fall meters down "Shit!" you rapidly reacted, turning around while falling and aimed at the bottom of the branch you stood seconds ago and fired just in time, because you felt the soft grass barely touching your back "[Y/N], are you okay?!" You heard Erwin shouting and not after towering your floating form. You were sure he could see your widened eyes and heavy panting "Yeah..."

Instructor Duvalier came soon and deeply sighed when seeing your state "Still as dumb fuck as ever, [L/N], if it weren’t for your surprisingly sharp reflects, I’m pretty sure that would have left a nasty as fuck wound" he said, his tone angry, but you could clearly see how hard he was trying to contain his laugh when seeing your condition and you got flustered and blushed hard in embarrassment, unleashing the hooks and falling back into the grass, letting a quiet "oof" and closing your eyes while sighing "You worried me there, [Y/N]... we’re choosing out regiment in a few months and you can’t make those silly mistakes in the half of your training with the scouts!"

Erwin scolded you, and you sat in the grass, palms plain in the ground, resting your body on them and looking everywhere but him, the scene was even more hilarious for Claude. It looked exactly like a big brother angry for his little sister safety after she tripped herself with a little rock at the side of the read because she wasn’t been watching where she was running and the whole situation warmed Claude's heart making he shake his head in disbelief with himself, these kids - adult kids - were making his cold behavior melt and that annoyed him "C'mon cadets, training will be over soon and both of you worked hard already" your little discussion with Erwin ended up as soon as you both heard Claude's rough voice and obeyed his order immediately "Yes, sir!"

;;

"Hands upon your hearts!"

"Yes, sir!"

Weeks turned into months, those months into exactly three years and now you stood with your fellow companions in front of various superiors of the military regiment, today’s is the day you’ll be choosing your military branch, and you are totally sure of which one you will be ending up joining to. Quiet murmur started to form around you, talking about how not long ago your instructor announced the top 10 graduates in your division, making your chest swell in pride unconsciously remembering your high position.

"For every trainee graduating today, three paths now open before you" said Duvalier, positioning himself in front of you all, the same way he did for the first day you all joined the training corps, it has a nostalgic feeling and for an unknown reason you don’t want to discover at all, it made you really nervous "The Garrison Regiment, charged with reinforcing the Walls and protecting the territory within them" This path was the usual for anyone who didn’t reach a position on the top ten trainees, you didn’t risk you life like a suicidal, through yourself outside the walls for an assured and cruel death, eaten by horrendous monsters.

Such a dumb idea for crazy people, just like you "The Scout Regiment, those who venture beyond the Safety of the walls into Titan territory" you noticed how everyone around went stiff after hearing the name of scout regiment, even some of them making comments about what you were thinking about just mere seconds ago, and that made you deeply sigh, but it didn’t matter, right know, your goal is your main mission "Most of you hope for the relative comfort of the Military Police Regiment, but only the top ten graduates are given luxury to choose serving the King by controlling the crowds and protecting order"

You didn’t know a lot about the Military Police Regiment, you only saw them doing their duty when you were younger, but for what you just heard, it sounds like the most boring shit ever, however, that place of comfort and security didn’t sound that bad "I will now announce the top ten graduates..." Oh, that sounds interesting, your vision was turning blurry, almost falling sleep while stood the only thing keeping you up was that memory from when you actually fell asleep in front of Claude while he was explaining, you grimaced when remembering the punishment ‘not again' "Step forward when your name is called"

"Number ten, Anna Schulz" A tall brunette girl with short hair and bright emerald orbs stepped forward, she seemed surprised, pupils widening and a big grin covering her face "Number nine, Elias Meyer" the next stepped out with hesitation, his expression showing confusion, like not even knowing why he deserved the ninth place, but he closed his hazel eyes tightly and gulped "Number eight, Leon Schulz" a boy - that actually looked way older than you - cheered lowly, but that didn’t stop Duvalier to send him a deadly glare, making the redhead instantly stop and bow as an apology.

Minutes passed, nothing interesting happened anymore and you started to get sleepy once again, that was until you heard your name being shouted out loud making you jump and direct your gaze at the person who did so "A-Ah... yes, sir?" Focusing your gaze to everyone around you again, you could see their different types of emotions they were sending to you, some of them were about to burst out of laughter - one of them Mike - some others with looks of pity and worry for yourself and another people uninterested.

"Cadet [L/N], one of these days you’ll die assassinated and not by a titan..." You heard Instructor Duvalier murmuring, but you were not too far away, he then glared at you with a letal glaze that made you pale and gulp in an instant "You’re the fifth cadet in the top ten trainees you dumbass" You blinked for a second, that turned into more seconds, jaw wide open, but composing yourself, you took a step forward and nodded in affirmation "M-My apologies, sir! I was a tad.. distracted" Duvalier just clicked his tongue and preferred to ignore your still sleepy status, walking back to his place.

Wait.

I... I made it to the top 10?

In sudden realization your eyes went widened in surprise just seconds after Instructor Duvalier walked away, you were beyond joyful, you thought you barely even grazed Anna, the tenth graduate. Unfortunately, you couldn’t demonstrate your happy self since everyone is in silence and tense waiting if their names are going to be mentioned, also if you started to jump and scream of excitement Claude wouldn’t take that well at all, less after he saw you almost sleeping - again - you barely payed attention to the next name, Marie, the only thought coming to your mind about the name was that girl Nile and Erwin had a crush on, or was that you guessed.

"Number three, Nile Dok" Your content stopped immediately ready to hit Nile if he planned to say anything stupid about how he stronger than you and shit like that. But it never came. Instead he looked kind of mad and about to snap, confusing you but then you remembered his rank and also his usual competition with a certain bright blond and connects all of the pieces. As far as you know, Erwin's name hasn’t been said, you couldn’t comment about it though since you were barely conscious of your surroundings mere minutes ago, however Nile's rea-

"Number two, Erwin Smith" Ah... there he is. The hour golden boy and reason why Nile is sending an infuriating look towards Erwin, the sigh is pretty amusing to you and would burst out of laugh if it wasn’t that Instructor Duvalier was glaring all of you like a hawk right now. So you just limited yourself to hold your chuckle down instead of risking your body to be used as titan bait while waiting for Claude to finish, you pretty much knew who left thought.

"And our top-ranking graduate, Mike Zacharias!" The dirty blond limited and only sent a smirk, like he knew he would reach up this point and step towards where everyone mentioned else were standing, you couldn’t do more but wait until Instructor Duvalier finished "That is the top ten. However, these results are based on scores during training..." Claude continued and started to approach all of us, more specifically between me and the sixth graduate that you noticed as the beautiful cold-headed Mary Suhc.

"Whether you can put your skills to use in an actual battle is another matter altogether. Those of you who didn’t rank should think long and hard..." Your instructor continued to walk towards, now meeting the glares of the rest of cadets that couldn’t make it to the top ten and you sighed in comfort, finally free of his deadly look "What can you do? What should you try to achieve?" Claude turned back to his spot in front of all of us, facing the large group with determination filling and hope filling his eyes.

"Tomorrow you’ll be asked which regiment you'd like to be assigned to!"

;;

You totally expected this.

Barely a small fraction of your division stood with you, in front of the Survey Corps Commander, Keith Shadis who just finished his discourse that was full of how dread, literally how few of us will survive our first expedition and that small amount wouldn’t probably last long neither, you also expected this type of warm welcome that you’ll forget after the first days of even harder training. The Commander had a look of understanding when most of the graduates walked away, but you couldn’t miss the slight ambience of disappointment surrounding him.

Other thing you did not miss was the light hope he had on his eyes, looking at how five of the ten top graduates decided to stay and recomposed himself, coughing with the intention of continuing "I welcome everyone here to the Survey Corps, this is a true salute. Offer up your hearts!" Keith said out loud with passion adorning his rough voice, sending a salute to all of you. Coping his gesture, the rest standing with saluted back shouting the familiar words as an answer, all of this made the Commander puff out his chest in proudness, not letting it show at all though.

"All of you have my utterly respect, let’s fight for humanity all together!"

Yes, this scenario was exactly what you recreated in your mind yesterday when you decided to join the scouts.

But you weren’t ready for what it came next.

You weren’t ready to see the Titans that close up in your first expedition, their hungry glare and awful aspect that almost made you stop in your tracks.

You weren’t ready to be the one last to see Mary alive, and stare at how her small body was devoured by these creatures without doing anything, you weren’t able to help, glued on your spot thanks to the fear running through your veins.

You weren’t ready to be one of the few people who remained alive of your assigned squad.

So this was survivors guilt, huh?

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