#none of the rest of us even got to cast our commanders

[corvidcall]

had a game of commander go so bad that the judge came over and asked if i was ok 💀💀💀

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Wedding bells

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Toto one-shot, let me know what you think:) If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the bridal suite. A sea of ivory tulle and delicate lace surrounded you as you sat before the mirror, heart pounding in your chest. It was your wedding day—the day you had dreamed of, planned for, obsessed over to the very last detail. Yet, instead of excitement, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of pressure.

The makeup artist dabbed at your lips with a final stroke of soft pink, stepping back to admire her work. "You look stunning," she said warmly, but her words barely registered. Your mind was spinning with thoughts of the seating arrangements, the flowers, the music. What if something went wrong? What if the guests didn’t enjoy themselves? What if the cake toppled over before you even got a chance to cut it?

A gentle knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your bridesmaid, Anna, rushed to open it. She gasped, spinning toward you. "It's Toto!"

Your eyes widened in panic. "He can't be here! We're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!"

But before Anna could protest, the tall, commanding figure of your fiancé stepped into the room, his dark eyes locked onto yours. Toto Wolff, ever the composed and confident man, stood in his perfectly tailored suit, his expression unreadable for a moment—until it softened into something achingly tender.

"Toto!" you hissed, scrambling to cover yourself with the sheer robe draped over your wedding gown. "You’re breaking the rules!"

He ignored your protests, closing the door behind him and striding toward you. Anna wisely excused herself, leaving you alone with the man who, in a matter of hours, would be your husband.

Toto reached out, taking your hands in his, his touch grounding you instantly. "Liebling," he murmured, his Austrian accent wrapping around the endearment like silk. "I had to see you."

Your breath hitched as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. "You look breathtaking."

Your earlier worries melted, if only for a moment. "Toto, you’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony. It's bad luck."

His lips quirked into that knowing smile of his. "We make our own luck, schatz. And right now, you look like you need to breathe."

A lump formed in your throat, the weight of the day pressing down on you again. "I just... I want everything to be perfect."

Toto sighed, shaking his head before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Perfect?" he echoed. "Liebe, the only thing that matters today is that we love each other. Everything else is just noise. If the flowers aren’t right, if the music is off-key, if the entire world falls apart—none of it changes the fact that by the end of today, you’ll be my wife. That’s all that matters."

His words settled over you like a balm, soothing the storm in your mind. "But what if something goes wrong?"

He chuckled, his hands slipping down to your waist as he pulled you closer. "Then we laugh, and we dance, and we celebrate anyway. Because today is about us, not perfection."

Tears pricked your eyes, and you let out a shaky breath. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

His lips brushed over yours, a whisper of a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. "Because I know you. And I know that you have the biggest heart, the most beautiful soul. And you are mine."

A tear slipped free, but Toto caught it with his thumb, his smile never faltering. "No more worrying, ja? Just enjoy today."

You nodded, your heart swelling with love. "Ja."

His eyes sparkled at your response, and he kissed you again, longer this time, as if he wanted to steal this moment for just the two of you before the world swept you away in the whirlwind of the wedding.

A knock at the door interrupted the intimate bubble you had created. "We need the bride! It’s time!"

Toto sighed, resting his forehead against yours for one last moment. "I’ll be waiting for you at the altar, schatz."

You let out a soft laugh, the nerves that had gripped you earlier now nothing but a distant memory. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

With one final kiss to your forehead, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on you as he made his way to the door. He hesitated, giving you one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.

You exhaled, a newfound sense of calm settling over you. Because Toto was right. At the end of the day, none of the small details mattered. The only thing that truly mattered was the love you shared, and the future you were about to begin together.

And that was more perfect than anything you could have planned.

@justaf1girl

[amberskyyking]

Disillusioned Chapter 48: Calling The Banthashit Like It Is

ART FROM A FRIEND ART FROM A FRIEND ART FROM A FRIEND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My friend Yueyume made me ART of my BABIES for this chapter and I'm in LOVE!!!

-ahem- Anyways.

Nox makes it back to Coruscant to find an unexpected riff between his brothers, and, well, that's not gonna fly, is it.

It was normal for the majority of 79’s patrons to be clones, but now, hardly any nat-borns at all mingled among the quiet troopers. If the tension had been thick on the streets, it was suffocating in here. Clones in almost exclusively matching colors huddled around individual tables, heads down, casting suspicious glances and menacing glares towards the back of the room as they drank. 

Vaughn had called everyone available from their little crew to come meet here upon his return, which was apparently… Well, everybody. He spotted the lieutenant among a group of other 501st men in blue, Mattox and Sterling among them, their colors only slightly mixed with an adjoining table comprised of 212th gold. Trapper and Boomerang took up some space in the middle, along with a single spot of purple that was Ridgeback. Boomerang’s boyfriend Rafi sat sideways on Boomerang’s lap, too, looking a little out of place as one of the only nat-borns around. His brothers met his gaze with looks of expectancy and relief, but someone was still missing. Nox continued scanning the bar for Crow. 

A small group of clones in Coruscant red had gathered all the way in the back surrounded by empty tables, and as he searched between their faces, Crow met his eyes. Nox stood rooted to the spot. This didn’t feel right. But Crow, from his place alongside Mutt and his Captain and the rest of his old squad, gave him an almost imperceptible nod towards the others. The implication was clear. He should go.

Don’t drop your arms, I’ll guide your heart With quiet words, I’ll lead you in…

Nox gritted his teeth, reluctantly pulling off the headset and returning the nod with a scowl, but a cold darkness lingered in the the air and settled in his gut. He remembered the look on Crow’s face in the alleyway the last time they were out, how quickly he had put his trust in Fox when they realized that shiny had been taken, the way he claimed that kind of treatment was normal… And he hadn’t seen Crow again since, until now.

No. None of this was right. 

He approached the group of them with a snarl that could have put Jesse to shame. Ridgeback raised an eyebrow, but Vaughn fixed him with a stoic look. Boomerang whispered something to his boyfriend so the Twi-lek got a pouty look on his face before trotting off towards the bar.

“Glad you made it back,” Vaughn greeted him in a low voice, but Nox cut right to the chase.

“What the kark is going on?” He growled.

“We should debrief first-”

“No,” Nox cut him off. “Not without Crow, he was as much a part of this as the rest of us.”

Vaughn gave him a hollow look and dropped his head into his hands. “We have to fill him in later. I know it’s not ideal, but the Corries have rallied around their Commander and the rest of the GAR feels betrayed.”

“They’re our brothers. Whatever happened-”

“Fox killed Fives, Nox,” Vaughn stressed. “Our Fives, our ARC, our brother. And believe me I know that it’s complicated. Fives attacked the Chancellor, spouted off a bunch of conspiracies, and pulled a blaster on Fox’s men. But most of our brothers think the Corrie’s have it easy. Like we used to, remember?”

“I-”

“And even if that wasn’t the case, Fox shot to kill a fellow clone. Not stun, kill. Don’t tell me you don’t understand what’s going on, here.” 

“Oh I understand just fine,” Nox challenged. “But you know Crow had nothing to do with that. You’re a Lieutenant! Isn’t that Captain your batcher? Shouldn’t you be trying to fix this banthashit and set an example, like you have before?”

Boomerang and Trapper both sucked in a breath, but Nox stood his ground. Vaughn could take it, and besides, someone had to say it, the man had taught him these very things back when he too resented the Coruscant guards, well before the incident in the alleyway. And Vaughn had been right. They were brothers, too, their whole rogue little crew knew better now, and it was about damn time they acted like it.

Full Chapter (And Story!): Calling The Banthashit Like It Is

[niuttuc]

The poll is over! Let's go through all the different options and see where they appear on cards, what purpose they serve and some more context! I'll put most of that under a read more to avoid filling up timelines, but for the first one we'll let it slide.

Unless one or more players have lost the game this turn (17.7%)

This was the correct answer, and also the one that got the most votes (though the vote flipped with the second answer at a few occasions during the poll)! The effect as written doesn't exist. As some people pointed out, there ARE conditions on number of players having lost the game, as well as triggers when players lose the game, for the sake of multiplayer. However, none of them are a negative condition, or a condition that cares about the players having specifically lost the game this turn.

For the rest of the game, you can't cast spells. (5.7%)

This one was on more than one card, in fact it was an entire cycle, contained within a mechanic's rules, in this case. Epic! Which starts its text with quite the drawback, and has a hard time providing enough juice to justify it... Though Enduring Ideal did manage it back in the day in Extended, leading a deck named after it to tournament victories! It was tried a bit in Modern too when that format came around. Epic spells can be a fun challenge to build around in commander, though quite a tricky one to succeed with.

Exchange your hand and graveyard. (5.9%)

Mythics are supposed to have big splashy text on them you'd never expect to read on a magic card, and Harness Infinity definitely passes that bar... Although it isn't the strongest card in practice, the mana requirement is really harsh and it needs too many pieces to be lined up correctly to form the basis of a gameplan... Especially in older formats where better options are available.

Reverse the game’s turn order. (13.6%)

A bigger percentage here, but they did print a legal card with that effect in 2019 in one of the commander decks! The one about casting spells from your graveyard. Regardless, it plays out like a neat twist on an extra turn spell, and can be even sillier when copied every turn, denying a player at the commander table their turn forever while you take twice as many as everyone else's. It's not particularly good, but that's why it's still a fun card to see. Like most of this list, it's just strange!

Each opponent loses 1,000 life. (10.2%)

Another very popular vote, and a recent card! This is just a spin on "you win the game" with extra style points for the lore of the card. You just have to count to 1,000, which admittedly can get pretty annoying with random doublings and addition of a few counters at a time.

You lose life equal to your life total. (16.7%)

We go from the newest card on our list to the oldest! This one was the second most voted, and in fact at points during the polling passed in front of the top contender! Dating back to the original release of Magic in 1993, Lich offers you a very tenuous immortality and more power too... But also to put ALL your eggs in that basket and expose yourself to any stray Disenchant. While not the strongest card ever printed, it's definitely one that marks the mind... And that would have a few references to in the years to come, most recently with Lich's Mastery a few years back.

The bidding ends if the high bid stands. (6.2%)

Only three cards have ever been printed that use this auction style of effect, with the most recent being printed in 2005. And none of them are particularly good. But they are quirky, and exemplify better than most the idea of life as a resource. Not one you want to throw around like that though. The red ones do offer the red player access to effects well outside their color pie... If they can guarantee they're ahead on life. And not against another aggressive deck that would want them to win the high bid so that they go down in life.

It becomes foretold. (4.4%)

This one was included mostly because it sounds very mystical and grave when isolated like this, if you don't know the foretell mechanic. In practice, it's just a named mechanic like any other, though a quirky execution of it that only appeared on a couple commander precon cards along the years.

Each of your teammates creates a token (6.1%)

I saw many people assume this excerpt was from an obscure Battlebond card, as the dedicated Two-Headed Giant set. It doesn't appear anywhere in Battlebond! There was actually another set WotC pushed Two-Headed Giant for a few years prior, that was Oath of the Gatewatch, with the Surge mechanic caring about your teammate casting spells. And this isn't from that set either.

Future Sight was a weird set of experimenting on potential future designs, and Imperial Mask was such an exploration, venturing out into a future where team-based gameplay was popular enough to receive direct support. And hey, they did end up releasing Battlebond and Oath of the Gatewatch, and the most popular way to play magic is now through Multiplayer commander, so it wasn't nearly as far-fetched an idea as it seemed back then! I've literally never seen Imperial Mask being played in Two-Headed Giant though, five mana for that effect is pretty rough even when you get it to "function" even in 2HG.

You control your opponents (5.9%)

A very popular card for this one! While you outright controlling an opponent is an effect that exists in magic on a handful of cards, only one can affect multiple opponents within the same effect... And it's mostly a workaround to get the concept of the card to work within the rules. Unlike other player-controlling effects, you don't get to cast their spells or attack with their creatures. Unless they're running Panglacial Wurm. You do get to see their hand though!

Permanents can't phase in. (4.1%)

Phasing was a weird downside mechanic they abandoned for twenty years, then they printed a very powerful and popular card bringing back the keyword action that's a part of it, for callback flavor. This isn't that card, but since then, they've slowly brought back that keyword action, as it's more straightforward than the original mechanic. And they've been experimenting with it, which is where this card comes in!

A weird card from a commander set associated with a standard release but not in any of the preconstructed commander decks, this Disciple definitely stands out in many ways. It hasn't gotten traction anywhere I've seen, asking for a few too many things to go right to work out, and even then, it's a temporary solution at best. The potential to blow out a Teferi's Protection player is still as hilarious as it is unlikely though.

You can’t spend mana to cast this spell. (3.3%)

And we end with another VERY (in)famous card, the Gaak! Wizards simultaneously knew and didn't know what they were doing with this one. While it wasn't intended to break Modern, or really see any play there, it did. As it turns out, a card that literally states you're not allowed to play it fairly has a tendency to play unfairly.

The Corpse Avatar reigned over a season of tournament play, through losing a comrade, before finally being put to rest once again away from the modern tables. It's still doing ok in some other formats though.

Weird Magic: the Gathering effects: Second edition

A couple months back, I ran a poll where people guessed which of a bunch of weird MTG effects wasn't real. It was fun, so we're running it back with a second batch of weird things.

As last time, only the current text of effects is used, not necessarily the one printed on the card. Limited to cards that exist in paper, and are legal to play in at least some tournament formats. Though this time, I did expand a bit to rules that aren't directly on the cards, but might be part of the full rules text of keywords from the comprehensive rules, and then those keywords are on cards.

Have fun!

[destinyimage]

Casting Out Devils: 4 Reasons to Exorcise the Demon-Possessed

Many wonder, “If we don’t cast demons out of Christians, then who is exorcism for?” It’s for the unbeliever.

The primary reason Christians hesitate to cast demons out of the unbeliever is because they misapply this portion of Scripture:

When an evil spirit leaves a person, it goes into the desert, seeking rest but finding none. Then it says, “I will return to the person I came from.” So it returns and finds its former home empty, swept, and in order. Then the spirit finds seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they all enter the person and live there. And so that person is worse off than before. That will be the experience of this evil generation (Matthew 12:43-45 NLT).

We find many useful revelations in that text from Matthew 12. We see that demons wander the earth after leaving an individual. Demons return in an attempt to reenter. Demons have wills of their own. Demons are observant. Demons communicate with one another and even call for backup. Demons can vary in their level of evil. These are all helpful insights.

To the point, this is how that portion of Scripture is misapplied: “If we cast demons out of the unbeliever and they don’t get saved, we put them at risk of being seven times worse than before. Therefore, we mustn’t cast demons out of the unbeliever.”

The concern is well-founded, for the Bible indeed teaches that demons can return with seven others. But there are a few reasons as to why we should set the captives free, even if our theology causes us to hesitate. What does the Bible teach about casting demons out of unbelievers?

Paul expelled a demon from an unbeliever in Acts 16:

One day as we were going down to the place of prayer, we met a slave girl who had a spirit that enabled her to tell the future. She earned a lot of money for her masters by telling fortunes. She followed Paul and the rest of us, shouting, “These men are servants of the Most High God, and they have come to tell you how to be saved.” This went on day after day until Paul got so exasperated that he turned and said to the demon within her, “I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And instantly it left her (Acts 16:16-18 NLT).

There are four other very good reasons why we should cast demons out of unbelievers:

#1 – Deliverance is for today and essential.

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If we look at the ministry model of Jesus, we see that He often taught, healed the sick, and drove out demons. Casting out demons isn’t negotiable. Deliverance was as much a part of Jesus’ ministry as healing and teaching.

That evening many demon-possessed people were brought to Jesus. He cast out the evil spirits with a simple command, and he healed all the sick (Matthew 8:16 NLT). (See also Matthew 4:23-25 and Acts 10:38.)

The following Scripture speaks of the continuation of Jesus’ deliverance ministry through those who believe His message.

These miraculous signs will accompany those who believe: They will cast out demons in my name, and they will speak in new languages (Mark 16:17 NLT).

How many of the demoniacs that Jesus freed do we imagine were born-again believers? Of the thousands daily who sought Jesus before He would finish His work on the cross, how many had been born again through their faith in His sacrifice?

To deny deliverance to the unbeliever is to reject a major portion of Jesus’ ministry. Since only the unbeliever can be demon possessed, we would be missing a major function of ministry if we were to deny them freedom. This is why I have written to you that one of satan’s greatest lies is that Christians can be demon possessed. That lie causes Christians to treat their strongholds like possession and remain bound; that lie also distracts us from practicing exorcism for the benefit of those who truly need it—the unbelievers. What a tricky lie, indeed!

Clearly, Jesus drove demons out of the unbeliever and so should we. Deliverance is too important to leave undone for the sake of a poor application of a single Bible verse. People are in bondage. People are hurting and tormented. We can’t allow a religious rule to keep us from ministering to people who need it. What could be more religious than, for the sake of tradition, turning away the captives? Jesus regularly contradicted the traditions of man. He healed on the Sabbath. Likewise, we can and should cast demons out of unbelievers, despite what modern Christian superstitions might dictate.

#2 – Tomorrow isn’t promised.

None of us have the guarantee of seeing tomorrow. This goes for those who are demon-possessed too. In turning away the bound, we demonstrate our presumptuous ways.

Look here, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit.” How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone. What you ought to say is, “If the Lord wants us to, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:13-15 NLT).

The Scripture declares, “… Indeed, the ‘right time’ is now. Today is the day of salvation’” (2 Corinthians 6:2 NLT). We don’t know who will still remain upon the earth tomorrow, so why risk a soul? Why put off the deliverance? We must cast demons out of the unbeliever now, for now may be all they have.

#3 – Exorcism could lead to salvation.

Think of the demoniac in Mark 5. He was set free and then decided to follow Jesus.

As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon possessed begged to go with him (Mark 5:18 NLT).

And Mary Magdalene likewise committed herself to Christ after having been delivered from demon possession. The Bible mentions that she had seven demons cast out of her.

After Jesus rose from the dead early on Sunday morning, the first person who saw him was Mary Magdalene, the woman from whom he had cast out seven demons (Mark 16:9 NLT).

Note that her exorcism didn’t take place on that Sunday morning. She had already been delivered for quite some time, since just before she started following Jesus. Mark noted her testimony to help distinguish her from the other Mary. The point is that she followed Jesus as a result of her exorcism.

Exorcism can lead to salvation.

 Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance? (Romans 2:4 KJV)

We cry slogans like, “Set the captives free! Deliverance is for today! Jesus still delivers!” Yet we turn away those in desperate need of freedom for the sake of theology. This is the burden of legalism, the powerlessness of religious thinking. Hyper-focused on a strict misapplication of Scripture, too many believers say to the demon-possessed unbeliever, “I have to leave you in bondage, for my doctrine tells me so.”

Yes, the unbeliever may end up worse off if they don’t repent after exorcism, but the fate of their eternal soul will be far worse if we stand by and do nothing. I wonder how many demon-possessed people would have already been freed and then born again were they not ignored. It’s possible that someone’s deliverance could draw them to salvation.

This may raise the question, “Then why do we need deliverance ministry at all? Why not just get everyone saved? Then we wouldn’t have to cast demons out of anyone.”

Such thinking fails to take into account that deliverance ministry is more than just exorcism. Additionally, many may only come to Christ after they’ve been set free from demonic possession. When someone experiences such liberty after having lived under the hopelessness of demonization, they more often than not commit to following Christ. It’s too deep of a spiritual breakthrough to not want the Lord after having experienced it. So we should cast demons out of unbelievers, because it could be what God uses to draw them to salvation.

#4 – We don’t say the same about evangelism.

The basic idea behind refusing to cast demons out of unbelievers is that we don’t want to potentially make their situation worse. That’s understandable. We don’t want to put people in positions where their demonization will increase sevenfold. It’s wise to consider if the demoniac has at least some willingness to be free. The demoniacs Jesus delivered came to Him or at least allowed themselves to be brought to Him. Still, this doesn’t mean that we should never cast demons out of unbelievers, because that’s who exorcism is for.

Because the people of Capernaum saw the miracles of Jesus, they were put under stricter judgment for their unbelief.

And you people of Capernaum, will you be honored in heaven? No, you will go down to the place of the dead. For if the miracles I did for you had been done in wicked Sodom, it would still be here today. I tell you, even Sodom will be better off on judgment day than you (Matthew 11:23-24 NLT).

Did this stop Jesus from performing miracles? Imagine saying to the Lord, “Lord, You shouldn’t do miracles, because then You could potentially bring a harsher judgment on the people who see the miracles yet still choose to not believe.”

Moreover, what about those who know the truth yet reject it? Aren’t they in a worse position than if they simply never knew the truth in the first place?

And when people escape from the wickedness of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and then get tangled up and enslaved by sin again, they are worse off than before. It would be better if they had never known the way to righteousness than to know it and then reject the command they were given to live a holy life (2 Peter 2:20-21 NLT).

We don’t withhold the gospel from unbelievers for fear that they may one day fall away from the truth and end up worse. So why would we withhold deliverance from the bound for fear that they may receive seven more demons?

Aside from the fact that only unbelievers can be demonized, those are four biblical reasons as to why we should cast demons out of unbelievers.

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[nataliebuckleyromanoffharrington]

Home

→ Pairs: Robert Downey Jr x f!reader, Chris Evans x f!reader, Chris Hemsworth x f!reader, Jeremy Renner x f!reader, Mark Ruffalo x f!reader, Elizabeth Olsen x f!reader & Scarlett Johansson x f! reader

→ Summary: You're part of the military, you've been away for a year and your wife, Scarlett misses you a lot. Elizabeth and the Og6 are in an interview with Jimmy Fallon.

→ Warning/s: None

→ Setting: At the Jimmy Fallon interview

→ Age: 30

→ Genre: [F]

Note: This is just a short story, I'm just generally bored. There isn't much to do at work so I decided to write a little something.

Masterlist(F) • Taglist • Masterlist(M)

•••••••••••••••••••••••°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Please welcome, Elizabeth Olsen, Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Jeremy Renner, Mark Ruffalo and Robert Downey Jr.!" Jimmy announces as the stars of the night was revealed to the audience, they wave as they take a seat. "Good evening"

"Good evening" seven the stars says back with a smile as cheers start to cover the silence once again.

"It's such an honour to have the stars of the new Avengers movie here with us," cheers erupted again but quickly died down "How was it?"

"We actually finished filming a couple months ago, a little stressful but so fun" Elizabeth chose to answer as she was nudged by Scarlett, who's beside her.

"Congratulations on the new movie," Jimmy replied "but Scarlett, fans have been wondering why they don't see Y/N anymore with you. Where is she?"

"She's uhm," the blonde starts to tear up on the mention of her wife "She's currently on the other side of the world, serving for our country. She's been away for a year now"

"If she were watching this, what would you like to say to her?" Jimmy asked

"Uhm Love, I really miss you and uhm stay safe, stay strong and I need you back in one piece," She gets handed a tissue box since tears started to make its way down her cheeks, she thankfully takes one and wipes her fallen tears "I can't lose you"

"I miss you, dummy" Elizabeth said after Scarlett says her message to her wife causing laughter to erupt from everyone. You and Lizzie has been friends for a long time, childhood friends actually. You two grew up together, your parents and hers are best of friends.

----

It's almost the end of the interview. You were in the backstage waiting for your cue to come on stage. You've been impatiently listening to their conversations. You really wanted to just run towards your wife but you can't since it would ruin the surprise. You were still in your military uniform. You were the one that suggested it to Jimmy, that you should surprise Scarlett at their interview. It was a coincidence that they will have an interview for the new Avengers movie named Avengers: Age of Ultron. Scarlett has been telling you about it when you two would have the time to call each other.

"Before you all leave, we have something for Scarlett and of course her friends" Jimmy said to the seven stars, who looked confused. That was your cue to come in. Once you've heard the word, Before. You started tiptoeing out of the curtains, quickly silencing the audience when you noticed they were about to scream, you put your finger to your pouted lips to quickly shush them.

"Boo!" You booed at your wife causing her to let out a hoarse screech at the sudden appearance. She looks back and at a blink of an eye Scarlett was in your arms again, letting out tears of joy. Then you felt more arms wrap around you, it was the rest of the cast that was in the interview.

"I missed you" you heard Scarlett's muffled voice

"I missed you too" you said back, putting her down "And of course, I missed you all too" you returned a welcoming hug to the six stars. You all took a seat after the nice reunion.

"Welcome back, y/-" You cut Jimmy off with a point of a finger

"It's Commander y/l/n now" you bragged as screams of your name and cheers erupted quickly at your Announcement "I got promoted"

"Well then, Welcome back Commander y/l/n" Jimmy and you shared a hand shake.

--

The interview ended 30 minutes after you made you appearance to the public. You and Scarlett are now in your home, making out on the sofa with a fluffy blanket draped over the two of you. The show playing on the television was long forgotten since the two of you were busy making out in the dark with only the television light illuminating the dark living room.

"I'm glad you're back" Scarlett muttered as she pecks your lips.

"I'm glad I'm back" you say back "I'm staying here for 4 years" Scarlett smiled and nestled her head under your jaw, you hug her closer and the two of you drifted off to Dreamland.

It's nice to have your wife in your arms again, finally after a year of longing for her soft touch, kisses and hugs. You could never afford to lose her, you would tear the fabric of reality just to have her in your arms again. Yes, you'd go full on Scarlet Witch on them bitches for you wife. Finally, you're home.

Home is where love resides, where memories are created, friends and family belong and laughter never ends.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms Viewer's Choice #6: Bazett Fraga McRemitz

It’s that time of the month once again, sports fans! It’s time for the Fate and Phantasms Viewer’s Choice Special! Today’s lucky lady is none other than the Seal Designation Enforcer Bazett Fraga McRemitz! A human that can fight on par with a servant, Bazett is an unusual case. She’s a mage, but I literally cannot find any indication of her casting a spell outside of “spell of kick your ass”, which goes a long way to explaining why she’s a Long Death Monk and a Battle Master Fighter without a single caster level to her name. She’s fast, she’s strong, she’s tough, and of course she’s got Fragarach. Making the ultimate counter move in a game with basically 0 counter moves isn’t easy, but we’ll have to do it again in a year or so anyway, so might as well get some practice in now.

Also, just to be explicit- this is the human Bazett. The pseudoservant will show up in due time. I know we're using her servant picture, but it looks nice and it fits in with the rest of the builds.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Race and Background

Despite Variant Human being one of our most popular races in this series, we’ve still only technically built 3 actual humans, which is wild when you think about it. anyways, being one gets you +1 Strength and Wisdom, as well as Arcana proficiency to do your job and the Ritual Caster feat to actually cast some spells. We’re not getting a lot, but it would be weird to build a mage without any spells at all. you’ll start off with Alarm and Detect Magic to make your job easier, and if you find any more ritual spells from the wizard list hanging around you can learn and cast those too.

If you’ve ever played Commander you know everyone stops playing when the Azorius control deck shows up, which is why we’re making Bazett an Azorius Functionary. They’re both magic cops, and they both have so many counters you might as well stop doing anything.

Bazett doesn’t get spellcasting so you can’t use the Azorius spell list, but you do get Insight and Intimidation proficiency. The living weapon is terrifying, who knew?

Ability Scores

Bazett is also a master martial artist, which means your Wisdom is your highest score. That’s where Fragarachs come from! After that is Dexterity. Bazett’s strong, but she also fights in a suit and we only have so many ASIs to go around. Third is Constitution. You normally bock incoming damage, but you also take hits like a champ. Your Strength is only a little above average. Bazett fights in a suit, but she’s also strong. If we could make this higher, I would. This does mean your Intelligence is lower than I’d like- Bazett’s obviously intelligent, but we needed the physical stuff more. Finally, we’re dumping Charisma. Bazett’s terrifying, but that’s pretty much how she gets through life. She lives in mage society though, so it’s understandable she wouldn’t want to make too many friends there.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: If you want to fight in a suit and get people’s blood on your boots, the only real option is Monk. Your Unarmored Defense takes care of the first part by adding your wisdom to your AC while not wearing armor or a shield, and your Martial Arts deals with the latter by giving you 1d4 damage with unarmed attacks, a attack on your bonus action, and the ability to use dexterity instead of strength when using monk weapons like your fists. Or any simple weapon, which includes improvised weapons like trees.

You also get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as Athletics and Acrobatics. Baz is a freaking god when it comes to physicality.

2. Monk 2: Now you’re strong and tough, but we need to be fast. Unarmored Movement does just that. You get an extra 10’ of movement while not armored, and it’ll speed up even more as you level up. If you want to go even faster, check out your Ki. you get up to your level in ki per short rest, and you can spend it to dash, disengage, dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action. This is also what will eventually become Fraggle Rock, but all good things come with time. We haven’t even gotten our subclass yet!

3. Monk 3: At third level you get your subclass yet and become a Long Death monk. This means you can make a Touch of Death whenever you KO someone within melee range, giving you temporary HP equal to your Wisdom modifier plus your Monk level. Given your ass-kicking ability, that’s going to be a lot of healing by the end of this. and worse case scenario, you can always carry a sack of starving rats around, it’s a D&D classic.

You can also Deflect Missiles, reducing the damage of an incoming ranged attack and sending them back with a ki point if you reduce the damage to 0. It’s a shame this doesn’t work against magic, but that’s a magic item in-universe anyway and it’s cool, so maybe chat up your DM about putting it in your game.

4. Monk 4: Fourth level monks can Slow Fall as a reaction, reducing falling damage so you can make sick anime jumps without dying. You also get your first Ability Score Improvement this level, so bump up your Dexterity for more punching and less getting punched.

5. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get make an Extra Attack each action for two attacks per action, three per turn with your martial arts, or four with a flurry of blows. You can also turn each and every one of those attacks into a Stunning Strike using ki points, forcing a constitution save on a creature and stunning them if they fail. That means melee attacks against them are at advantage, so you can kick their ass even more thoroughly. It also trivializes most boss fights if your DM didn’t give them legendary resistances. I learned that one from experience.

Also also on top of all that, your martial arts die is a d6 now for more damage. If only we didn’t have to wait six levels for the next improvement…

6. Fighter 1: Fighters don’t have to wait six levels for the next martial arts die improvement since they know the Unarmed Fighting Style. If you have both hands free, you can deal a d8 of damage with your bare hands, and a d6 if one is busy. I don’t know how carrying something makes your kicks weaker, but whatever, you fight light anyway.

You can also use a Second Wind as a bonus action for a bit of healing. That’s real healing, not temporary HP like your punches.

7. Fighter 2: But you know what’s better than big punches? More big punches! Second level fighters can use an Action Surge once a short rest to make two actions in one turn. With two attack actions and a flurry of blows, that’s six attacks in one turn.

8. Monk 6: Sixth level monks get Ki-Empowered Strikes, so your unarmed attacks are magic now. Again, kind of a shame this doesn’t help you throw other people’s spells around. Buuuuut long death monks still get cool stuff like the Hour of Reaping, letting you spend an action to force everyone in a 30’ radius to make a wisdom save or become frightened of you for a round. That gives them disadvantage on attacks and checks while they can see you, and they can’t willingly move closer to you either. You’re a fist-flinging avatar of death that moves 1.5x faster than the average human, I wouldn’t want to get close either. You can also do this whenever you want, because Bazett is never not terrifying.

9. Monk 7: Seventh level monks get Evasion, so your failed dex saves make you take half damage, and your successes prevent all of it. I guess this is kind of like punching through a fireball. You know a character is wild when they make evasion look tame in comparison.

You also get a Stillness of Mind that makes it so you can stop an effect charming or frightening you as an action. There are things that scare Bazett, but they’re few and far between.

10. Monk 8: Let’s use this ASI to get even stronger. I don’t mean bumping up our dexterity- that’s later. Instead, let’s grab the Crusher feat to round up our Constitution and knock creatures around when you hit them with bludgeoning damage. (that’s what your hands do, btw.) also, when you get a critical hit everyone has advantage against them for a round, so even if your stunning strikes don’t work you can still beat the crap out of people.

11. Monk 9: Ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you run up walls and over water. Bazett’s got a lotta movement options, and they’re all moving closer to you. Start running.

12. Monk 10: Tenth level monks get even more speed as well as a Purity of Body that makes you immune to disease and poison. In game. You still gotta wear a mask.

13. Monk 11: At level eleven long death monks get a Mastery of Death, so whenever you’d drop to 0 HP you can spend a single ki point to stay at 1 instead. funnily enough, this doesn’t have the usual boilerplate saying you can’t use this on instant-death maneuvers, so it even works on disintegrate and power word kill. Now that’s terrifying.

14. Fighter 3: Now that you’re immortal, let’s fight smarter and not harder as a Battle Master. This makes you a Student of War so you know one kind of artisan’s tools, but we’re hear for some Combat Superiority. You get 4d8s per short rest that you can use on your choice of 3 maneuvers, with a save DC based on your dexterity. Now you can use Evasive Footwork to add that die to your AC while moving, you can make a Riposte for an actual counterattack only 14 levels into this build all about your counterattacks, and you can make a Pushing Attack to launch a creature up to 15’ away for big anime punches. The latter also add the die roll to your damage for that hit. Despite Bazett’s 10 in intelligence, she’s not dumb. She just focuses all her smarts into beating the everliving hell out of whatever’s in her way.

15. Monk 12: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for stronger punches, a tougher suit, and for stronger maneuvers. This is a pretty simple build stat-wise.

16. Monk 13: Thirteenth level monks get the Tongue of the Sun and Moon, letting you speak and understand all languages. I really hope Prisma Illya never gets an official dub, but at this point it might as well.

17. Monk 14: At fourteenth level your Diamond Soul gives you proficiency with all saving throws, plus you can spend a ki point on a failed save and try to re-roll it. Now we’re punching through spells.

18. Monk 15: Fifteenth level monks have a Timeless Body, so you will never suffer the frailty of old age. Anime characters are immortal after all, and even if they weren���t old age was never really your issue in any series you’ve been in.

19. Monk 16: Use your last ASI to bump up your Wisdom for a stronger AC. We haven’t actually used our wisdom all that much in this build, but that will change with our last level.

20. Monk 17: Seventeenth level monks unlock their ultimate technique: Fragarach. Or Touch of the Long Death, if you want to be a stickler. You can spend an action to touch a creature, spending 1-10 ki points and forcing a constitution save. If they fail, they take 2d10 necrotic damage for each ki point spent, or half on a success. Now all you have to do is ready an action that will trigger as soon as they attempt their strongest attack on you, and you’re all set!

Or maybe just hit them first? I know it’s not in character, but spending your action every turn to ready an action is not a fun way to do stuff. Still, 20d10 damage in one hit is pretty nice.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Did you see how much damage you can do in a single hit here? I’m not entirely sure if 20d10 is the biggest single hit we have, but it gives Sanson a run for his money.

You also have great defense, with just shy of doubled movement speed plus 18 ac plus 24 HP every time you knock someone out plus you just. don’t die. up to 17 times in a row. Now, you can make the argument that surviving an attack and counteracting it are two different things, but shut up. You find a way to reverse time in a physically focused build. What, you wanna go 17 levels into wizard to grab the wish spell? Didn’t think so. You also got proficiency in every save, and evasion’s always good.

Unlike Sanson’s big hit, yours is super easy to use, and you can even use it twice in one turn for a total of 34d10 in one turn with an action surge. and you can pump these bad boys out every short rest, even tempering your ki usage a bit for smaller enemies.

Cons:

Your range is abysmal. You’re fast, but anything hanging out in the sky can completely invalidate you unless you’re using that ready action thing.

You also only have bludgeoning and necrotic damage to work with, so fighting an Aasimar will go poorly for you. This also eats through your ki like a motherfucker, and you need that to live. So only go all out if you think it’ll end the fight, otherwise it might just end you.

Speaking of getting ended, your HP total is pretty low, so you’ll be using that Mastery of Death a lot if you’re trying to be a front-line fighter. Be careful about using Fragarach, or a false friend could stab you in the back once you’re weak. But we all know that’ll never happen, right? That nice priest guy just wants to help.

[kkusuka]

So, I have an idea 👁👄👁. Who knows if it’ll be a good one, but I had a dream last night, WHERE I WAS BEING SHARED BY KAGS AND TSUKKI. Let me know if you like this idea <3 Love ur poly headcanons and I think that’s where this dream came from <3333

funny because i think about this all day every day

The Velvet Room <3

Tsukishima Kei x Reader x Kageyama Tobio 

Mafia AU

words: 2.1k 

Cw: choking, double Penn. In the same hole, it’s tsukishima so degradation

The Velvet Room Nightclub was a place to avoid.

In fact, you avoid even speaking about the place, as do many. Other than it being almost completely unaffordable to the general public, but just mentioning the Karasuno Yakuza was enough to scare the remaining brave souls from the doors.

You didn't really know what made them so bad, no one delves deep into the issues publicly, and apparently privately, of fear they will somehow overhear the contents of the conversation.

Your friends had already beaten into your head to stay away from the luxurious club. And there were enough bars and smaller clubs lining the city; so it wasn’t a problem to the general public.

So how did your friend and you get in the check-in line at the very club you’ve been told to avoid like a plague?

Kiyoko’s bachelorette party. That’s how you landed a stop in the most expensive place in the city. She was one of the people who always played devil’s advocate for the club. (you had your suspicions about the man she’s marrying too, not you get you wrong they are lovely people, just an enigma to the club.)

She was adamant about having her party there, saying she wanted to show you that it wasn't scary, you guys were just falling into the drama.

“You know, it does look really nice in here!” another friend whispered as you walked through the door; the hostess looked up at your group, seemingly recognizing Kiyoko at first glance, as she didn't say a word before leading you through red curtains, past the dance floor and what looked like the main bar, up the stairs to a long hallway.

Walking down the hallway you noticed the individual rooms lining the walls, no doors, the entries were of the same red cloth. You were led to the very end of the hall, pushing the red back, revealing a room with booths along the wall, circling a white table.

To the side of the room, a bar loaded with different bottles and lime slices. You had almost completely eased up on the reputation of the club, the white and LED lights lining the room sent you into a calm, relaxed view of the infamous building.

“Alright let's stop lollygagging! Let’s party!” with that you began to drink and within minutes food had arrived to your room. No worries, there was no poison in either the food or the drinks; so now you had nothing even remotely bad to say about this place, it was great!

Before you knew it, it was almost two in the morning and according to some of the girls who ventured to the outside, the club was packed. Being that you had been there since 8, it was needless to say you were growing tired; your social battery was nothing compared to some of your friends.

“C’mon, Y/n! Let’s go to the dance floor! This room is getting boring!” one of your friends was trying to pull you from where you had nestled into the booth.

“Fine, fine, calm down! I'm coming, I'm coming!” you relented, allowing her to drag you pat the curtains and onto the dance floor where music was blasting from every angle.

As you dance, your eyes move across the bodies on the floor to the people leaning on the walls lining the outskirts of the mass of people. As you drag across the couple clearly getting a bit too heavy in public your eyes meet a sharp cerulean blue.

Expecting him to turn away, you kept your eyes locked with his, disregarding the people surrounding you. Seeing that he wouldn't break our staring contest, your eyes travel from his eyes to his draped hair, down his neck, taking note of his dark three-piece suit hiding his body.

Through your examination you lost your footing, falling back crashing into a hard chest.

For the second time that night, your eyes met gold surrounded by black rims. You watched his lips curl into a scowl as he set you back onto your heels, clearly running his eyes along the curves of your body.

He returned his eyes back on your before flipping his lips into a condescending smirk, raising his chin as if he was leagues above you, “Not very balanced are we, short?”  he remarked, shoving his hands into his pant-pockets.

“I was going to say thank you, but you ruined my thanks by opening your mouth.” you retorted, making a move to turn back to where you hoped your friend was still dancing, though before you could, another body was beside you.

“Stop bothering them, Tsukishima.” a deep voice rumbled from next to you, looking at it was the man from across the room; his sharp eyes now cast onto the blond asshole, who was still smirking, bigger now that this other man had stepped in,  down at the both of you.

“Or what, King? Are you going to command me around like the commoner I am? Short and I were just talking, so you can butt out your highness.” Tsukishima sneered at, the king? that couldn’t be his name, and from the way he stiffened at the mention of this name, he didn't like it very much.

He was about to respond when two voices called from either side of your newly formed circle.

“Y/n!”

“Kageyama! Tsukishima!”

You knew it was Kiyoko who was calling you back towards the stairs, so you sneak a glance two where the men turned, seeing a smaller man, boy? with bright orange hair waving the two over. Hearing Kiyoko call you again, you tear your sight from the two walking away and make your way back to the room.

The events of that night still play in the back of your mind even a month later as you get ready for another pouting with Kiyoko and the hostess from that night, who’s named you learned to be Yachi, who had quickly became friends with you along with a few of your other friends.

“Won't it be awkward clubbing at the place you work?” you didn't want to force Yachi to go back, she seems to spend enough time there as it is. And if you got her to say no, you wouldn’t have to go either. It wasn't that you didn't want to have a good time, you did. It was that you didn't know if you could handle seeing Tsukishima and Kageyama again. Your body wanted it, it desperately wanted to see at least one of them again, but your mind was against the idea.

Yachi had told you about them, they were clearly part of the high rank of the Karasuno Yakuza. She explained how rude and all-around awful Tsukishima treated people, from remarks to just making fun of them. She told you about Kageyama’s bad attitude and how he was exiled from another Yakuza and was picked up for his skills.

You had to stop yourself from thinking about them for about a week before your memory began to torment you once more. You couldn’t lie; that was hot. Not that they were mafia goonies; but how confident they were walking around their club knowing what they could do at any time.

Now sitting at the main bar while Kiyoko and Yachi dance with each other on some far corner of the dance floor, you wish more people came. You vowed to stay away from the dance floor, in fear of deja vu taking its course and becoming reality.

To consumed in mixing your lime into your margarita, you ignore that body that slides into the stool next you yours.

“I was wondering when you would come back, Shortie, his Majesty interrupted us last time.”  warm breath hit the shell of your ear as a too-familiar snarky voice sounded from beside you. Tsukishima pulled back, resting his head on his palm, as the bartender shoots a whiskey in his direction.

“I have nothing to say to you.” you raise your chin, imitating how he had when you first met. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his amusement clear on his face. Trying to ignore him you make a move to leave your seat.

“None of that, I’m just trying to have a conversation!”

You continue your ignorance, scanning the crowd for your friends.

“I’ll buy you food?”

“Only until we finish the food, then you leave me alone.”

Seeming content with your answer, he takes you up the same stairs, to another room on the right of the corridor.

In your former opinion, Tsukishima was actually a very good conversationalist, you hadn’t even realized that the food had been done for an hour and you had gone through more than enough drinks.

“Hinata really jumped into a fruit cart? Like in the movies? How does that even happen?” you laugh, curling yourself against his side as he mocks his friends.

Noticing he wasn’t laughing anymore, you look back up towards his face. Realizing just how close he was to you, eyes fixated on your lips, yours the same before you realize what was happening.

“I’m sorry i-”

Before you could even finish your mumbling you were pulled back into him, lips pressing on yours. Keeping your lips connected he moved you onto his lap, your straddling his waist as his hands moved to rub along your thighs.

Pulling away to breathe, you start to unbutton his white shirt, he,  pushing the ends of your dress to rest on your hips, giving him a view of your red lace.

“Tsukishima what the hell-”

Kageyama’s familiar voice called from the entrance of the room, dying down when he registered what he was seeing. Frozen in place, he could see Tsukishima’s hand still making its way to the zipper of your dress. From the crook of your neck, he could see Tsukishima smirk sucking on the skin below your ear.

You tried to push Tsukishima off, not wanting to embarrass yourself further, but he held you in an iron grip acting as if nothing had happened.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch King? If so then you can just leave now.” He mocked, not straying from slipping your dress from your burning body. When you tried to respond, Tsukishima moved his finger to meet with your clothed bud.

Seeming to have made his decision, you feel Kageyama tilt your head to meet your lips. Wrapping his hands around your neck keeps you where he wanted.

“Wow you're more of a whore than I thought, totally ok with being shared by two guys, you’re fucking dripping!”

Tsukishima pulled your underwear to the side, shoving two fingers into your weeping hole, Kageyama moving his mouth to the column of your neck, opposite from where Tsukishima’s was just minutes ago.

“You’re going to take both of us, like a good cum-dump” Tsukishima sneered, pulling his cock out of it's refines, “c’mon tell me how much you love being our cum-dump.”

You couldn’t even mutter a word through Kageyama's fingers in your mouth. Before you could think, he was pushing you down onto his cock. You gave a choked moan as he lifted your hips then dropped them back onto his.

Your monetary focus on Tsukishima left you unaware of Kageyama’s escapades until you felt a hand on your back pressing you to the blond’s chest. You thought he was just going to press into your ass until you felt his tip at your already stuffed entrance.

“Wait, you can’t-”

“Shut up and take it, whore.”

Fitting them both was almost impossible, you felt more stretched than you ever had in your entire life. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, not that either of them seemed to care as they steadied in a pace, moving in sync with the other.

Eventually, you lost yourself on their cocks, you didn't know when but a hand attached itself to your clit. Your orgasm washed over you as your cum sprayed onto your thighs and Tsukishima’s pants.

Neither of them paid you any mind as they continued for another minute before stuffing you with cum.

“You might just have to be our permanent cum-dump, huh Shortie?”

“For once, I think I agree.”

[whitestaghere]

Not your fault - Levi x reader

Just felt like it had been a while and came up with this. Hope ya'll enjoy reading!❤️

Warnings: none really. Mentions of death. Angst and a dash of fluff at the end.

Saying I was scared was an understatement. No, I was shook to the very brink of my existence. I hadn't expected it to be so nerve wracking as it was, now that I had finally joined the scout regiment.

I had expected this of course.

Who wouldn't? Specially when they were proned to fighting naked humans as tall as trees running at you like they were on their morning caffeine rush.

What was even worse was when the stoic captain of the special operations squad decides to pick you to be part of his squad. "I appreciate your skills," he said.

Well I guess there wasn't really much to fuss about that apart from the new mission we were setting up for and our very special rivalry.

Today, everything had gone smooth until that female titan had decided to come waltzing in.

She had managed to wipe out all of Levi squad and I felt my blood boil. My mind was in a blur, filled with thoughts of nothing but blood lust. Just from her.

Eren's screams played at the back of my mind and even as I caught sight of him shooting towards where I was, I couldn't find it in me to stop him.

As cruel as it sounded- I wanted her to feel the pain as I did.

I glanced down at Petra's body. The eyes that always greeted me with brightness were now looking at me blankly. Tasting the saltiness from the tears that streamed down my face unbeknownst to me- my cool demeanor finally broke. Snapping out of my trance I pushed myself off the branch I stood upon.

Shooting my hooks into the skin of the female titans shoulder, I zipped through the air screaming in anguish. I swung my blades over my head, aiming for the hand that covered her nape. If I could just cut through her wrist-

Just as planned, my blades sunk into the flesh of her wrist. Deep, but not deep enough.

If only I hadn't been distracted and just pushed away right then..

Her large hand came in contact with my body, swatting me off like as if I were some insect. Which in her case, I probably looked it. With a pained yelp, I was being thrown through the air.

"Y/N!" Eren.

My eyes shot open just when a bolt of lightning struck through the air. Ah.

I realised what was happening.

I tried to aim my grappling hooks at one of the trees before I probably fell to my death or by the slightest chances, fell straight into a titans mouth. But everything was in a blur and with the way the titan hit me, I couldn't quite direct my focus onto one thing. And before you know it, I had already inched closer to the ground, crashing straight into a tree. I doubled forward and my body slid down against the rough surface.

Cursing inwardly, I glanced down at my body; my lower half, sprawled out on the ground as I slumped against the tree.

I wanted to move, to assist Eren - but my body refused to respond. I couldn't budge and for a moment, I hoped I had died through impact because the thoughts that ran through my head were killing me.

My body felt limp almost like as if I was paralysed. I fought to keep my eyes open. The ground beneath me shook and my ears were filled with the sound of Eren's titan screaming. And with that, black filled my vision.

>>present<<

My body shot up at once and I winced at the sudden pain that shot through my body.

"You're awake."

That voice.

I snapped my head to my right and I was greeted by those steel eyes that belonged to none other than the captain. I had this urge to shrink and disappear out of existence under his icy gaze and-

Wait.

I was alive? Or no wait. Good Gods, please don't tell me he died too!

Without thinking, my hand shot out to grab his arm that was crossed over his chest. This took him by surprise and his eyes shifted between me and my hand with a hint of annoyance laced in his features. His body had tensed under my hold and I immediately pulled away with a gasp.

"I-I'm sorry sir. I just-"

"I found you not too far from the rest of the squad," he cut me off. My head lowered at the mention of the others. "I didn't think you were alive considering the amount of blood you lost. But that's when you coughed, splattering all your substances at me and well- you know the rest."

I didn't know what to say. Even if I did, I didn't have it in me to speak or make a snarky remark like I usually did. The thought of my fallen comrades made me sick to the stomach. But I couldn't cry either.

No. Just not with him here.

You remember how I said we had a special rivalry going on between us? Yeah.

Ever since Levi had asked me to join his squad- we'd always been at eachother's throats. Which I didn't quite expect considering how he picked me.

He'd say something sarcastic, I'd snap back at him and vice versa. It eventually came to the point that commander Erwin had to walk in one time, suggesting Levi that it would be best if I were switched to Mike's squad. But Levi had simply walked out of the room.

Just like that, Erwin asked me to make the choice and I said no. Why you ask?

I wanted Levi to accept me.

I couldn't even remember what started this rivalry to begin with and it was eating at me constantly. I had never seen him snap at people as easily as he did with me. Well he did occasionally, but this was on a daily basis and it made no sense at all.

Hanji said it was just his nature and that I'd understand him later. I realised that was she said was just ridiculous because this man, he didn't even dare to show me a little bit of respect. So I decided I'd leave him be and put up a mask whenever he'd target me but that's when things got worse. He always found reasons to argue with me and I caught up with it too.

Breaking down in front of him wasn't an option now.

Levi's chair scraped against the floor signalling that he was probably leaving.

"Thank you," I said quickly, making him stop in his tracks. I'd never said that to him before. But since he saved me, it was only right that I did.

His head turned around halfway and he eyed me narrowly. "For saving me," I finished. He clicked his tongue in response and left the room, shutting the door a little louder than I expected.

Cue the breakdown.

I flopped myself back on the bed. Grabbing the pillow that supported my head, I hugged it tightly as I screamed into it.

The tears didn't stop.

I couldn't save my comrades. Why did the captain even decide to pick me in the first place if I couldn't save my own comrades?

It was getting harder to breathe with my face stuffed in the pillow and the choked up tears didn't make it any easier. I felt so pathetic. But no matter how much I tried, it wouldn't stop. The guilt and hatred just kept coming back to me.

It felt like I had been crying for hours already as my body spasmed, signalling the next fresh batch of tears approaching.

The sound of the door opening and closing again made my body freeze.

I peeped up from my pillow and regretted it instantly seeing the captain standing at the foot of my bed, holding two cups in his hands. His eyes locked with mine again.

Maybe it was me just seeing things but his eyes widened and very slowly, he made his way upto the side of my bed.

"I brought you some tea," he said stoically. "Drink it before it gets cold."

I subtly wiped my eyes against the pillow and sat myself up on the bed like as if I hadn't been crying my eyes out just a few moments ago.

Avoiding eye contact, I thanked him silently and took the cup from his hand. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his gaze lingering on my face. Feeling too self conscious, I brought the cup up to my mouth only to wince as I burned my tongue. A weird sound came from me and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

"Tch. Be careful idiot. I didn't ask you to drink it that fast," Levi scolded. I face palmed inwardly, brushing it off with a sheepish grin. He cocked a brow and shifted his gaze outside the window.

Silence.

I didn't mind the silence, but with him sitting right there, it felt like my nerves were dancing. If that was even possible.

Eyeing him subtly, I noticed how his gaze seemed distant, longing. And that's when I realised. I was being selfish.

I wasn't the only one who had lost my comrades.

"C-captain-"

"Levi."

I tilted my head in confusion and nodded right after catching what he had meant. "Levi. I-I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For everything."

"Be specific." I gulped. So he wanted a full on confession. Here it goes.

"Well for being.. for being a brat." He raised his brows and turned to look at me. I shifted my gaze to the floor at once, finding it easier to speak calmly that way.

"That wasn't a joke, I promise. I was being selfish. I didn't know how much pressure I might have been putting on you by always being snarky and uncooperative. And now too.. I was considering my own feelings without thinking about how you felt. I just- didn't understand why you hate me so much."

"I don't hate you," he said abruptly. I looked at him slowly but reluctantly.

"I-" he ran a hand through his hair, releasing a frustrated sigh. "I don't hate you. I was just worried."

"Worried?" I asked.

"Worried you'd end up like this. Or by the least, end up dead."

Ouch.

"You doubted my skills.. yet you picked me to be a part of your squad. I don't get it," I mumbled.

"Idiot. It's not like that," he barked. "I recall saying I respected your skills. I really do. It's just that you can be reckless at times."

I gasped in disbelief.

"Reckless?"

"Yes. Reckless."

"How could you-" he raised a brow and eyed my position on the bed. I followed his gaze and it dawned on me. Half of my body was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a cast.

Yeah. Reckless.

"I had no doubt in your skills, keep that in mind brat. I picked you for my squad because I knew you'd be a good addition to it and-" He paused, looking like as if he were in thought before continuing.

"It was easier to keep an eye on you this way."

I shut my eyes tightly, guilt flooding through my veins little by little.

"But I failed." My eyes shot open hearing this.

"I failed you and I failed my squad."

"Levi-"

"No y/n. There's no denying it," he said. I noticed how his voice was beginning to shake and that just made my heart ache. I had never seen him this way. "I told you that I added you to keep an eye on you and look at you now. Even worse, I failed to protect the rest of my squad."

"Levi," I said softly. "You know, if I ever end up dying out there- I'd never blame you. I'd never say you failed to protect me. But what I would want you to do, is to give our sacrifices meaning. We devoted our lives. We chose to go down this path knowing the circumstances. Knowing that someday there could be a chance we wouldn't come back home. So just know, this is not your fault and they don't blame you either. Even if it is, we must make their sacrifices worth something."

Levi stared intently at me but this time, I didn't feel like shrinking away. I wanted the man in front of me to have reason to fight, to know he wasn't to blame. And that all of this- we were facing all of this together.

He didn't say a word. I didn't expect him to either and I didn't mind it.

His gaze was everywhere and for a second when his eyes met mine, I couldn't help my urge and slowly yet hesitantly- reached out for him.

"May I?" I asked.

He tilted his head, confused by what I was asking permission for. I opened my arms slightly for him and after a short while, he shockingly leaned in slowly (not before shifting awkwardly in his seat though). Wrapping one arm around his shoulders and one hand on his nape, I pulled him into my embrace gently.

I felt his fingers trace over my clothes slightly like as if he were contemplating what to do. After a few seconds, his body completely relaxed in my arms and I felt his hands slowly snake around my waist.

"It's okay Levi," I whispered and rubbed his back in attempt to comfort him. He tucked his head into the crook of my neck. That made a soft smile crawl up my face.

This man was a fighter but he was also human. A human with feelings no matter how stoic he could be. Hanji was right.

>>Third person's pov<<

It was at that moment, that a new friendship began to blossom between the two. A spark of hope and a reason to fight in their dark world.

Okay phew.

That came out a lot more angsty than I thought it would be haha. But I hope you all enjoyed reading it and have a wonderful day/night!❤️

[rogue-durin-16]

YOU DRIVE ME MAD

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)

A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.

"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.

"uhm... Nothing."

"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.

"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.

With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.

I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"

"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.

"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.

My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.

His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.

I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.

The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.

"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.

"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"

"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.

"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.

One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.

"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."

"... 'm trying..."

"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.

"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.

"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.

I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.

What the fuck had just happened?

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

During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.

As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.

Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.

"—already told you it wasn't for you!"

"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.

"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"

"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"

"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"

"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.

As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.

"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.

"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.

"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."

He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.

"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."

"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"

"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.

"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"

"Been better." I confessed.

Silence.

"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."

"No worries."

Silence again.

"Did you eat something?"

He scrunched his nose. "Not really."

"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."

More silence.

"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."

"Yours is too, surprisingly."

"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.

"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"

"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Liar."

There we went again; the white flag was out.

"Fuck you."

"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."

"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."

"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.

"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."

"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."

"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"

He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.

"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"

He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.

"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.

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

FRED'S P. O. V.

The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.

I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.

That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.

I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"

"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.

"In private?"

"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.

"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."

This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"

"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.

This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.

I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.

"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."

"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.

Finally.

Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.

"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.

Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.

[demonprincezeldris]

Broken Pack Au (*squints* I think.)

The Commandments stared at the empty space for a long while, processing everything they had heard. Everything Meliodas had said, how... manic he had been. Almost like the words were coming unbidden. He likely had no one to talk to since his mate died. No pack, no mate, and alone for thousands of years? (And how was he still so young-looking after so many years?)

How had he not gone insane?

Their thoughts were interrupted by their Pack Leader, "Let's go," He said, lifting Gelda into his arms and heading towards the mountain his brother had pointed them towards.

"What? We're actually going to believe him!?" Galand demanded, glaring at Melascula when she opened her mouth, "I know he was telling the truth, but there's plenty of ways to alter memories to make it so you're not actually lying. How can we trust him?"

"Be that as it may, where we are is too exposed. If Meliodas is right and there is both miasma, supplies, and defenses in this 'safe haven' of his, then that's better for us. If not, then it just gives us another reason to kill him." Estarossa spoke up for is brother, speaking plainly and calmly, which was a testament to his control of his emotions and his Commandment.

"Either way, we should go." Fraudrin spoke up quietly, eyeing the horizon. "Humans are a curious bunch, they'll no doubt start poking around. And where's there's one, more will follow. News will spread and soon we'll have all of Britannia after us." While not an official member of the pack, he was still friends with most of them, and on good terms with the rest. And they were his leaders. Plus, he wanted to be somewhere safe and quiet, with recent news he... had a lot to think on.

The others took his word for it, seeing as he had spent the longest time among the humans. Melascula wondered if he would be willing to take on a more specialized role if he ever joined the pack, his skill for survival, subterfuge and espionage seemed innate. But that was for another time.

"It's decided then." And with that, they took to the air.

It didn't take long for them to sense it, the miasma and unique magic signature of both their old packmate, and the mimicry of their homeland. They arrived in short order, with some of the others carefully checking over for any traps that could harm them. Finding none, the group entered. It was even big enough for Drole to stand and more comfortably. There was plenty of supplies and food, and a thin mist of miasma in the air, making it easier to breathe and relax.

"Come on, Estarossa, let's get everyone something to eat." Monspeet spoke casually, though carefully. The taller man did a full-body flinch, and cast a slightly panicked look to his brother and pack leader. Zeldris nodded, and while he didn't relax entirely, his eyes shown with relief as he followed the other caretaker.

As the pair walked off, Monspeet promising to show Estarossa something, Drole and Gloxinia got to work on creating a nest our of earth and vines. Makeshift but comfortable. A large alcove with soft, miasma friendly plants, half-hidden within the wall.

Derieri began to patrol the area, along with Fraudrin to help keep an eye out for anything new that the fighter may not be familiar with. Grayroad following after to catch up with her friend. Melascula and Galand were investigating their supplies... and hiding any booze to share between them for later.

Zeldris was relieved everyone was finding something to do as he set Gelda down, who was watching him with patient eyes. Tired as he was, he would never refuse her, but as he started to shift his shirt to provide her easier access, she stopped him gently.

"Let us wait until you've had something to eat, my dear." She said, leaning back against one of the moss balls and pulling her mate so he laid against her, head on her chest.

"Are you sure? It must have been so long since you last fed."

"I have waited thousands of years to have you in my arms again, I can wait a little longer to enjoy you." She kissed the top of his head, and relaxed. After a few moments of silence, she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He said immediately, his tone sharp. But then winced and sent he an apologetic look, "I apologise, I shouldn't have snapped. I... am not ready to talk, yet. I can barely think as it is. Perhaps after we have all eaten and had some rest, this is a conversation everyone should be a part of."

"So reasonable~" She smiled, teasing. He felt his face heat up, and buried it against her. Judging by her soft chuckle, she still saw it. No one else could make him so bashful so easily, but he didn't mind. It was better than thinking of his brother right now.

So instead, he focused on the delicious smell that was wafting from the nearby fire that had been set up. Listened to the sounds of Galand and Melascula doing their strange mix of arguing and flirting, sensed the others returning from their initial patrols, and reveled in the feeling of pack and family.

(This is getting long -mine usually are- so I'll do another one later. Hope ya enjoyed! Though there's not much meat here, more prep for later.)

I loved this!

They all could relax for a little while longer, just enjoying their food that had been cooked for them. It had been so long since they had done something like this. The last time they had actually gathered as a pack and just... relaxed was 3000 years ago. When Meliodas was leader of the Commandments.

Meliodas had actually done this when Zeldris was a young kit. And there wasn't much fighting between the races going on. It was calm and peaceful for them all. Meliodas had brought little Zeldris with them, unwilling of keeping him alone in the castle with their bitch of a father.

Zeldris had felt most safe when he was with him.

[vixenpen]

Can you do a KiriBaku smut imagine with a chubby black s/o

KiriBaku x (F)Thicc Black Reader NSFW

“Ugh! I need a vacation,” you groaned as you exhaled a stream of smoke.

“I need a baecation.” Kirishima replied, grabbing the joint from you.

“Haah? What the hell is that?” Bakugo chimed in, confused.

“It’s a vacation where you spend the whole time fucking.” You explained, laughingly.

“Tch. Isn’t that what vacations are for anyways?” He scoffed, beckoning to Kirishima for the joint next.

The three of you were relaxing at Katsuki’s massive apartment enjoying one of your rare days off together. Mellow music pumped through the surround sound system in his room and black lights cast a purple glow over everything.

The rotation matched the order you all were sitting in. Bakugo, sat against the headboard, your head resting in his lap, and Kirishima sat on the opposite side of you, massaging your feet. It felt amazing to be able to vibe with your best friends. Something that, since becoming pro-heroes, you all found yourselves with little time to do.

“Ya know, Katsu, not everyone turns into a horn dog the minute they step outside of a five mile radius of the gossip rags.” You laughed.

“Hey, if you idiots want the media dissecting your sex lives and splashing it all over the gossip rags that’s on you, but some of us actually give a fuck about our reputation as heroes.”

“Bro, at this point the whole internet knows you’ve got hoes in different area codes,” Kirishima chuckled. “You’re not foolin’ anybody.”

“Yeah, but can you name one name? No. Cuz the people I fuck with know how to keep their mouths shut when it counts.”

“You mean, you break ‘em off a fat check to keep them quiet.”

“Hey, it’s kept my name out of scandals. Can’t say the same for you Mr. Red Ran Through.”

You burst out laughing especially when you saw the baffled expression on Kirishima’s face.

“Ouch man! That was harsh.”

“But accurate.” You pointed out.

Kirishima definitely had a reputation in the hero world as a more of a lover than a fighter in every sense of the word. He was constantly courting a new hero, sidekick, or medical worker. But where as that type of philandering might hurt another hero’s reputation, Kirishima managed to come out of his multiple affairs relatively unscathed; as none of his former conquests had a negative word to say about him. You chalked it up to his charming and chivalrous personality.

“I may have been with a few of our colleagues-“

“A few?! Kiri, you’ve sucked and fucked your way through our entire agency. I think the only people you haven’t fucked in the hero world is us.”

“You, babe.” Bakugo chuckled blowing smoke in your face. “I’ve been there done that.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima laughed, “Bakugo was actually my first.”

“Wait, what?!” You shot up so fast, you almost knocked the joint from Bakugo’s hand. “I’m sorry, he was your what, when and where was I?!”

“Chill, thickums,” Bakugo smirked. “We were kids—still in high school. It was before we met you.”

You gaped back and forth between the two men in disbelief. Meanwhile they were trading the joint over you as if they hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the year on you.

“Aww baby,” Kirishima tucked your chin, running his thumb over you bottom lip. “What’s with that pouty face? Are you really that upset?”

“Yes!” You crossed your arms. “We’re besties and neither of you assholes thought that might be valuable information for me to know?”

“I mean, not really.” Bakugo snorted. “What were you gonna do with it? Sell it to the gossip rags?”

“Or maybe she was gonna dream about it herself.” Kirishima winked. There was a wicked gleam in his ruby eyes that made you flush.

“Heyyy, I think you may have been on to something there shitty hair.” Bakugo pinched your round cheek. “She’s blushing.”

“No I’m not! Black girls don’t blush!”

“Baby, blushing is more than just a color on your cheeks, it’s a mood, and right now you’re totally giving me that mood.”

“W-whatever! I could care less that you two used to sleep together.”

“Used to?” Kirishima quirked a brow.

That statement earned an incredulous look from you.

“S-seriously?! You still...” A pang if envy shot through you at the idea of your best friends sharing something that you weren’t apart of. “You know what, I don’t even care.”

“Oh?” Bakugo quirked a brow. “Then you won’t care if I do this.”

He reached across you to grab Kirishima by the collar and plant a deep kiss on the man’s lips. The burly redhead melted into the kiss easily.

Simultaneous moans escaped your friends as the kiss deepened.

“Ahem! Y’all realize I’m still here right?” You snapped.

“How could we forget?” Bakugo smacked one of your chunky thighs, jiggling it a bit. “That little show was for you thickums.”

You wished you could look away, but there wasn’t much else to look at with two hot, shirtless, muscular men looming over you. You popped your lips and rolled your eyes.

“That little attitude ain’t scarin’ nobody pun’kin.” Kirishima pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “I know you liked it.”

“Hell yeah she did.” Bakugo added. He toked the joint one more time and held your gaze as he blew the smoke in your face. The predatory way he sized you up made you feel...exposed—vulnerable. “You know, as long as we’ve all been friends, I wonder why neither me or Shitty Hair never tried to fuck your fine ass yet. God knows it’s not like we aren’t both into you.”

“Better yet,” Kirishima said, turning you to face him by your chin, “it’s not like we aren’t all into each other.” He kissed you again. This one was much more commanding than the last and his tongue wrestled yours into submission.

“Oi!” Bakugo snapped. He grabbed your chin as well and pulled you towards him. “You not gone keep stealing all her affection from me, Shitty Hair.”

Bakugo bit your lip, making you gasp. He took full advantage of that opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

Is this really happening right now? What the hell?

“G-guys, wait...” You pulled away from Bakugo.

“What’s wrong, sweetness?” Kirishima asked, sliding your box braids aside to plant gentle kisses along your neck.

Between his soft lips and Bakugo’s strong, scarred hands sliding along your thick thighs, your sex was clenching desperately for stimulation.

“You don’t want this?”

“I-I’m not sayin that, I’m just saying...” what the hell were you saying? Because the way Bakugo was sucking the top of your breasts had you drawing blanks.

“Why don’t you stop pretending, y/n?” He smirked up at you, hooking a finger into the scooped collar of your tank top and yanking it down to free your full, round breasts.

He hummed. “Fuckin’ delicious.” He groaned.

Licking his lips, the ash blonde dove down to suck your hard, brown nipple into his mouth making you hiss in pleasure.

“You clearly want this, y/n.” Kirishima chuckled. The deep, rich sound rolled down your spine and made goosebumps rise on your skin.

His large hand slid around your side to squeeze your other breast. He rolled the pebbled nipple gently between his fingers.

“You want this and so do we.” He nipped at your ear. “So what’s up? Are we doing this or not, thickums?”

Before you could say anything, Kirishima’s hot mouth sucked your nipple into it.

“Oh god.” You sighed as shivers ran down your spine.

They ran their strong hands up your juicy thighs, squeezing and massaging them.

Each man worked either side of your body. Bakugo was now behind you, running his hands down your spine—mouth tasting your sweet skin, nipping along your spine. He dug his hands into your hips, caressing them lovingly.

Kirishima took care of the front. He sucked hickies onto your soft stomach and slowly worked your shorts down.

He groaned at the sight of your bare brown skin.

“Damn, that’s beautiful.” He grinned up at you, ruby eyes flashing once more. His mouth landed in an open mouth kiss against your clothed core, fingers exploring your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Ki-Kiri~” you sighed.

Bakugo bit your ear, making you yelp in surprise.

“Is Kiri the only one here, thickness?” He asked.

“N-no..” you stammered back.

He slid his hand down until he reached your pussy and toyed with your clit. Shockwaves of pleasure coursed through you.

“Then say my name too, Thickums.” He plunged two fingers into your heat, flexing them towards your gspot.

“Ahaaa, Katsu!” You cried out.

“Man, Katsuki, you gotta see how pretty this kitty is.”

“Does it look as good as it feels?” He asked, slipping a third finger into your gripping cunt.

“Mmhhm,” he hummed in response. His long tongue slithered out, joining Bakugo’s fingers in your juicy pussy.

The sensations had your head swimming and your nipples and cat tingling with excitement.

“Tastes just as good too.”

“Oh yeah?” Bakugo slipped from behind you to join Kirishima’s side. He laced his fingers through the redhead’s long hair and forced a harsh kiss onto the man’s mouth. “Shit,” he muttered between kisses, “that is good. But I bet it’s better straight from the source.”

Soon Kirishima’s mouth and fingers were replaced with Katsuki’s. His fingers swam inside of you and he sucked at the sensitive button of your clit until your pleasured screams grew hoarse. Your cream soaked his face and hands. When he made way for Kirishima to join in, your moans only grew louder.

The two men seemed to be competing in who could bring you to ecstasy more times. They worked your sex until your legs shook and your toes curls. You dug your hands into their hair, and bucked your hips to meet their mouths, hungry for more of the overwhelming pleasure.

“Baku-Kiri, shit! Shit, shit, shiiiit! Oh my god!” You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t think.

“Cum for us, Princess,” Kirishima urged, “come for your daddies.”

And cum you did. Again, and again, and again, until everything went black.

(Art by: @deb_amm/Debby-San)

[astaroth1357]

Leviathan's Odyssey 7:

Flood

Mammon: Levi!!

*Mammon is the first to leap forward and run across the beach, faster than Lucifer could stop him. His enthusiasm, however, seems to wind down considerably when his brother doesn’t make any move to meet him… and then he retreats back to the others when a massive, serpentine head rises out from the water by the shore. This new beast is not quite as large as the one from before (which likely was Levi himself in some kind of horrific second form) but it could still swallow any one of brothers whole and looks very hungry and eager to do so… particularly when six other heads just like it come up to join the fun*

*Levi stops the clamoring hissing of the monstrous serpent with only the raise of a hand, leaving Lucifer to assume whatever it is, must be completely under his thrall… an impressive feat for a creature that size…*

Levi: This is Lotan. Don't mind him.

*as their formerly missing brother starts his stride across the beach, a growing knot begins to twist in the pit of the eldest’s stomach… The kind of feeling one gets when they’ve realized that they’re out of their element... but they’re up against someone else who very much is. Fighting to keep a composed demeanor, he waits until Levi’s right in front of them before responding*

Lucifer: You look well, Levi... I’m glad. Though I’m surprised you've turned up here of all places...

*Leviathan, maybe amused by the statement, sticks the end of his trident into the ground by his feet before smiling*

Levi: Same goes for you, but this is just my first stop. *he shrugs nonchalantly, glancing all his brothers over until his eyes land on… well, a new face*

Levi: And what’s that thing...?

*Lucifer follows his eyeline to baby Satan, currently peeking his blonde head out from the safety of his shirt. He had almost forgotten he was still holding him...*

Lucifer: Oh, well… I suppose this is your new brother…

Levi: You stole a kid??

Lucifer: Well, no. He’s uh... it’s complicated.

*Levi looks a tad confused but leans down to get a better look at the boy. Again, much to Lucifer’s surprise, their seemingly fearless child attempts to hide his face back into the fabric…*

Levi: Huh. Looks like your guppy’s shy. *he flashes yet another shark-toothed grin… where he had developed such a maw is a mystery to Lucifer… None of his brothers' teeth get that sharp*

Lucifer: He’s not usually… *one of his hands instinctively goes to shield Satan’s head. A part of him hopes that it’s only Levi’s appearance that he finds scary… but a greater part of him fears there’s more to it than that…*

*it doesn’t take Levi long to look past Satan and back to the others, all of whom are still grappling somewhere between a state of shock and guilt*

Levi: Well. I’m happy you all found each other. Up here... *they watch for a moment as his slitted eyes narrow slightly...*

Levi: ...without me.

*Mammon is again the first to step forward, putting a hand over his own chest*

Mammon: I looked for ya when we-

*he could continue but Levi cuts him off with a sudden spike in volume, picking his trident back up from the sand*

Levi: -and just look at the house you got! *he lifts the weapon over to the Demon Lord’s villa, sitting perched on a scenic hill above the beach* Doesn’t it look just… nice?

*the twisting in Lucifer’s gut is only getting worse… he doesn’t like where this is going…*

Lucifer: The house isn't ours, Leviathan… We’re borrowing it. We live somewhere farther inland...

*the way that Levi’s eyebrows raise only further cement his fears… For a moment, he swears he sees something flash in his eyes but it's gone too fast to identify it…*

Levi: So that means you have two then?

*they all watch in confusion as he bends down to scoop some sand between his fingers��  letting the white grains slip slowly from his grasp*

Lucifer: Two…? Two what?

Levi: Two territories. On dry land. *Levi watches the sand pour to the ground, seemingly mesmerized by how it falls, before returning back to his brothers*

Levi: I bet that really must be nice. Really… really nice. *Lucifer sees the look in his eye change again, but this time the darkness lingers… radiating what he can only describe as pure malice and envy*

Levi: But that doesn’t surprise me. You guys have always had it better than I have…

Mammon: Huh..? *Mammon raises an eyebrow, apparently blindsided by his comment* What the hell are ya talkin about, Levi?

*Lucifer can’t help but shoot a look at him, even for the innocent question. There’s something very different about the Levi before them right now… They shouldn’t risk giving him ammunition. Unfortunately, Levi’s eyes only narrow again but this time into deadly thin slits*

Levi: What am I talking about? Isn’t it obvious?? Or are you still just as dumb as ever, Mammon? *Levi sweeps his trident out to the side, baring his pointed teeth in a silent snarl*

Levi: All of you had it so much better in the Celestial Realm than I did! Mr. “Always Perfect” Lucifer and his stupid little lapdog, Mammon! Oh how everybody looked up to you! *he jerks his trident towards a frightened Asmodeus, the anger in his eyes only intensifying*

Levi: And then there’s you! Always sneaking out to parties and sleeping who knows where, but were you ever cast out for it?? No! Because you’d always go crying to Lucifer to get your way!!

Lucifer: That’s enough, Levi-!

*Leviathan’s tail lashes the beach sand, kicking up a cloud of white behind him and they hear the low hiss of the seven-headed beast still very much watching them…*

Levi: Shut up! I’m not done!! *his trident next jerks towards Beel and Belphie, the older of whom currently pushing the younger behind his back defensively*

Levi: And then there’s you two! Who could ever get enough of hearing how everybody loved the twins?? “Did you see what Beel did today?” “Hasn’t he gotten so big?” “He’s a shoe-in for seraphim for sure!” And if you had just stayed in your goddamn place, Belphie, then NONE OF US WOULD EVEN BE HERE RIGHT NOW!!!

Lucifer: LEVIATHAN, I SAID ENOUGH!! *Lucifer’s beach clothes quickly evaporate as they get replaced by his demon form, black wings towering high above his head, but Levi remains undaunted*

Levi: AND I TOLD YOU TO SHUT!! UP!!!

*the sky above them darkens as growing clouds bloat out the artificial sun, the sheer intensity of Levi’s rage apparently beginning to disturb the sea around them. The waves suddenly start getting choppy, bubbling up and crashing into each other furiously...*

*for a moment, Lucifer is astounded how Levi’s emotions alone could have such an effect on the currents, but that’s only until he looks a little closer… It’s no current or wind changing the waters, it's a horde of creatures struggling for space above the water’s surface: tails, fins, tentacles, and heads of all shapes and sizes breaching the formally calm seas to make their presence known. In a matter of moments, they find themselves outnumbered not by the tens or hundreds, but by the thousands… An ocean’s worth of monsters calling for their blood from across the shore…*

*as the brothers realize what they must be seeing, a collective horror casts over them… Levi himself takes a few deep breaths and raises his trident back to the army, quieting his troops once more, but they remain near the surface to watch for his orders. Dormant, but far from absent in their conflict… A tense silence hangs in the air but Lucifer is the first to break it with a quiet, harsh whisper*

Lucifer: Leviathan… What is the meaning of this? What are these things and why are you here?

*Levi slowly lowers his trident and glares back at his brother with a look that’s not smug, nor boastful. It holds nothing but anger and contempt for him and seemingly everyone around him...*

Levi: Shouldn’t it be obvious, Lucifer? I’m still a general, aren’t I? So what if my men look a little different now... *he digs the end of his trident into the sand, keeping his head aloft in a way Lucifer had only seen him do on the battlefield*

Levi: I want better land. I’m here for more territory and I’m starting with this beach. *though his voice is assured and commanding, Lucifer narrows his eyes at him just as Levi had done before*

Lucifer: No. I can’t let you do that. *Levi, of course, doesn’t back down for a second*

Levi: Well, too bad it wasn’t a request.

Lucifer: This beach and the land it’s attached to are all property of the Devildom and its ruler, Lord Diavolo. I cannot and will not just let you take it. *Lucifer’s words actually seem to give Levi a pause for thought, but more out of surprise than anything*

Levi: Wait, did you just say “Lord” Diavolo…? *he thinks for a moment before a smile finally comes back to his face, though this time with an air of mockery* Did you just call the Prince by his title? Don’t tell me you’re his lackey now, are you…??

*Lucifer, to his credit, doesn’t flinch or look away… but he doesn’t look particularly happy either*

Lucifer: I remain my own man, as I’ve always been… But I owe my loyalty to the Prince and I will oversee his interests as I see fit. *it seems regardless of his answer, Leviathan still snorts at him*

Levi: So you are!! And here I thought I’d never see you take a knee to a demon! Just how low have you sunk now, huh? *Lucifer opens his mouth to respond, but Mammon beats him to the punch*

Mammon: Would it kill ya to just shut up already, Levi?? We ain’t just gonna let ya take what you want! *despite his brother’s outburst, Levi only continues to look amused*

Levi: And you really think you can stop me?

*he raises his trident once more and an unearthly chorus is sung from the waves, a deadly hum of hissing and growls emitting from his waiting “soldiers,” itching to attack on his say so. Many most likely already having the reach or capability to pluck the other demons from the sands where they stand*

Levi: … you and what army?

*Mammon’s silence appears to be his answer as he glances anxiously to Lucifer… the rest of his brothers doing the same. In times like these, they all turn to the eldest to come up with a plan, but it seems that this time, Lucifer finds himself with limited options… He takes a moment to study his family’s faces - then the savage crowd of beasts surrounding them - with an expression that’s near unreadable…*

Lucifer: … I can call Lord Diavolo from here. What are your demands?

*there’s a sharp intake of breath from his brothers, not a one expecting him seemingly to back down so quickly*

Mammon: What?!

Asmo: Lucifer?? You can’t be serious!! *though his brothers are stunned, Lucifer doesn’t take his eyes off of Levi while still maintaining his stoic expression*

Lucifer: If this is the bed he wants to lie in, then so be it… 

*he and Levi glare at each other momentarily, before the other finally says something in response*

Levi: Tell your prince that I’ll start flooding Devildom within the next twenty minutes… If he hands over his territory willingly, then I’ll let him evacuate anyone living on it. Otherwise, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: If that’s really what you want… But Levi? *Lucifer waits until he has his full attention to make his point clear… His expression may have even softened some… Is it with worry? Maybe even disappointment?* 

Lucifer: Don’t do anything you may regret…

*Leviathan looks at him for a few seconds more, before turning his back to them entirely*

Levi: … You have my demands, don’t you? *as he starts to walk away, Lucifer says something else just barely loud enough for him to hear*

Lucifer: You’ve changed… Leviathan.

*for a split second, Levi’s steps falter… but he doesn’t stop nor turn back to respond*

Levi: I’m just who I need to be… Lucifer.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[wwilloww]

sugar | ksj

A/N: This story was commissioned by @jamaisjoons​ through @ficswithluv‘s Changes With Luv project. Thank you so much for your donation. I had so much fun writing this Jin and exploring these characters so—I hope you enjoy it! A million thousand hundred THANK YOUS to @unlikelylittlemiss​ and @ot7always​ for beta’ing this! 

After many hours of technical difficulties, I’ve formatted what I hope will be the final version of this story. So far I think it’s the favorite one that I’ve written, so if you like this piece, please let me know! It means the world to me when I hear from you all. 

|| masterlist || moodboard || ao3 ||

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

Seokjin traces the rim of the crystal glass, absentmindedly watching the crowd around him swell and sway like a tide. His eyes sweep over the sea of faces, but he doesn't find what he's looking for.

He swirls the golden liquid around the glass and takes a slow sip, wetting his lips with his tongue as he relishes in the comfortable burn of peaty scotch sliding down his throat.

Finally, his gaze captures what he's been searching for.

You. Dressed in a slim asymmetrical white number, sheer fabric draping delicately over one arm. You're unmistakable.

Above you, thousands of shards of crystal hang as if suspended in midair, the art piece paling in comparison to the presence you command. The venue is dimly lit, but the blend of candlelight and starshine is enough to illuminate your face and paint your features in a dance of shimmering light.

He watches the million-dollar sculpture light your slight smile and curious eyes with a silver radiance. The pinkish light of a neon sign had bounced off of your features in an almost identical fashion the night you met.

ONE YEAR AGO

It was chance. Two strangers, anonymous in your settings, both searching for an escape. After finishing your first ever commission, you were desperate to get out of your cramped, barely-affordable studio, while Jin wanted to slip away from the pressures and strict culture of his high-end gallery. Neither knew who the other was, but you gravitated to each other nonetheless.

He sees you first as you shoulder through the front door of the dive bar, your rain-drenched jacket slung over your back, your eyes bright and intelligent. But you were the one to approach the tall, broad shouldered man first, riding off the high of a completed project. You buy him a drink—and then a second. You don’t talk about work tonight. Don’t talk about your lives. You’re both so absorbed in the other that you’re oblivious to the scent of tobacco smoke drifting over you, or the sounds of a rowdy pool game behind you. After four hours cozied up at that bar as the rain pours down outside, you invite him back to your tiny, paint and plant addled apartment.

Once you arrive back home, your roommate nowhere to be seen, you quickly offer him a drink. You  hurried to the kitchen to dig through the fridge to find something— really, anything—to serve the handsome man standing in your living room and curse yourself for not getting groceries this week.

“Who is this?” Jin asks.

“Huh?”

“The painting. Who is it?”

You turn to find him staring starry-eyed at your most recent project, hanging above your couch.  

“Oh, that. Moi.”

“Who?”

“Me, dummy.”

“You? You paint?” He’s looking at you, eyes wide and curious.

“Yeah, if you can call it that.”

“You can definitely call it that,” he says sternly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He reaches out as if to touch it, but freezes, fingers held an inch away from the canvas.

“You can touch it, if you want,” you offer.

He shoots you a flabbergasted look, as if to say really?, and you nod at him as you pull out plastic cups from your sparse cupboard. You pour two glasses of wine and hold one out to him as he comes back to you.

“I was always told not to touch the works of art,” he says, taking the glasses out of your hand and setting them down on the counter. “But this just makes the experience all the more memorable.”

You hiccup at his attempt at dirty talk, not used to men who know what they want, who are willing to spread their desire so plainly before you.

He kicks apart your legs, pressing a thigh against your heated core. He lowers his lips just enough that they almost brush up against yours.

“May I?” he breathes against you. You nod and suddenly he’s captured you in a kiss, the plush of his lips moving heatedly against you. You wrap your arms around his neck and he sighs at your touch. When you break apart, his eyes dark with lust and your breath quickening in your chest, you don’t hesitate to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

Before you can step inside, he swings you around and picks you up. Your legs wrap around his waist and you can feel his length pressed hard against you. He backs you against the doorframe, your spine hitting the wood—but you don’t even notice it. All you can feel is the way his cock is jutting against your clit.

“Look at you, grinding yourself against me.”

You groan as he thrusts his clothed cock against you.

“Bed. Now,” you demand.

He walks towards the bed, still holding you, still kissing you, until his knees hit the mattress. And then his grip is loosening and you’re thrown onto the soft surface of the bed, a gasp rushing through your lungs. You watch as he pulls his shirt off, revealing a toned chest. You didn’t think the man in front of you could get any hotter, but as he crawls up the bed to hover over you, you’re proven wrong.

“Please, god, fuck me,” you groan as he kisses you.

It’s all he needs to hear.

The next morning you wake to an unfamiliar arm wrapped around your waist and morning breath tickling your ear. You smile as the details of last night come flooding back.

“Morning,” you grumble, feeling the man shift behind you.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he replies, a heavenly rasp edging his voice.

His hand comes to trace your waist and you let out a quiet moan, your senses softened by sleep. A smile flickers across your lips as his hand dips lower, casting warmth over your hips, your pelvic bone, and finally, your lower lips as his hands explore your body.

“You’re so wet I could just slip right into you, no problem,” he says as he runs his finger along your slick folds. You twist yourself around so you’re on your back now with Jin pressed against your side. Without breaking eye contact, you reach down with one hand to wrap around his length. With your other hand, you grab his hips, pulling him towards you—he takes the cue and straddles you, his hands coming down on either side of your head. You pull him closer so that the head of his cock is pressed against your entrance. “Now?” he asks.

“Now,” you reply.

Despite your wetness and the stretch from last night, he’s still a tight fit as he slides into you. A delightful ache threads through your belly and you arch your back to better accommodate him.

“God, how are you this perfect?” he groans once he’s buried entirely within your walls. He settles his weight against you, giving you a moment to adjust to his girth. “What would it take to get you like this again?”

“Get me into the Whitney,” you joke.

“Done.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re hysterical.”

“I’m not joking.”

You search his expression for any sign of a joke, but you find none. “Wh-what?” you fumble.

“I’m serious.”

His gaze is calm and collected as if he had just agreed to buy you breakfast—not kickstart your art career.

“Do you not know who I am?”

“Why the fuck would I know who you are?”

His eyes widen for a moment before he breaks out in laughter.

“Oh, well then, don’t worry about it.”

As his chest shakes as he chuckles against you, you’re reminded of your current position. You look down to where your bodies are joined, his cock hard and not even fully sheathed within you.

“You’re not, like, some kind of serial killer right?”

“Uh, no.”

“Okay, well then I literally couldn’t care less who you are.” He smirks at you and you pout. “Can you please just fuck me now?”

He chuckles. “It seems you have to keep asking me for that.” He thrusts into you with enough force that your body slides several inches up the mattress and the two of you groan as you adjust to his girth. He relishes in the tight throbbing of your cunt.  and he relishes in the tight throbbing of your cunt.

He fucks you slow and hard, each thrust slamming into your body, making your toes curl and your back arch. You both come quickly, relishing in the feeling of one another and the pleasure rippling across each other’s face.

“I’ll be honest,” you say, as you pull your shirt over your head. “I kinda liked it when you pushed me around last night. We should do that again.”

“After breakfast though?”

“After breakfast.”

A month later, you had been scrolling through your email when you saw a message from an unknown sender.

Subject : Acceptance to Whitney Museum of American Art.

——���—————————————————-

Thank you so much for your submission to our open call for pieces exploring “identity and landscape.” We are thrilled to inform you that your art has been accepted by our committee and will be displayed in our upcoming exhibit. Your piece explores these themes in a manner that took the committee’s breath away…

Your phone slips out of your grasp and drops to the floor, cracking the screen in the process.

You’d been submitting your art to them for years, and yet why was it that only after that strange comment Jin had made that you got in? Could it be more than just a coincidence?

The rest of the day is filled with half blossoming excitement and half mortification. Had Jin done this for you? You had been frequenting the museum since before you could hold a paintbrush, and trying to get into their gallery since you began painting professionally—but then all of a sudden as soon as you meet this mysterious stranger, your dream was placed right into your hands.

Three days later, you’re standing in front of the biggest art event you’ve ever been invited to, staring at a very large, very expensive banner that features none other than Jin.

CURATOR OF THE YEAR, the text reads.

Oh. Oh.

It all makes sense. Do you not know who I am? he had asked. You should have known. His name was plastered on every major art exhibit in this city. You had heard about him a thousand times before, but never even thought to connect the dots between the Kim Seokjin who visited your apartment several times a week and reorganized your fridge and the Kim Seokjin. He was a curator, but more than that he was a mentor of sorts. His approach to work was one of a kind: he led the artists he took under his wing with a gentle, guiding touch. Instead of shackling them into contracts or monetary and social debt like others in his position did, he gave them the tools they needed and allowed them the space and support they required to flourish on their own. This kind of business structure not only led to artists all over the world adoring him, but came back to repay him a thousand times over.

You never got into the Whitney on your own merit, you think. It was all Jin’s doing.

After you collect your jaw off the floor and enter the building, you almost immediately spot Jin.

Taking a deep breath to calm the swirling emotions in your belly and mustering all the courage you had, you tuck your painting underneath your arm and stomped up to him.

He’s standing, admiring a large mural. His face is painted in contemplation. For whatever reason, it reminds you of the feeling of standing in a spring clearing, in the middle of nowhere, letting a gentle breeze wash over you. You shove that feeling away as you stride up to him, stopping a foot or two behind him.

“Jin?”

“Hm—?” Jin spins on his heel. “Oh, what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes light up. “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, I was worried something was wrong.”

“I got into the Whitney.”

“Wait, what? That’s amazing!”

“And I figured out who you are.”

His eyes widen.

“Before anything else, I wanted to thank you for your help. I…” You shake your head, trying to wrap your mind around what’s just happened. “I’m not really sure how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

“I’ve been submitting to the Whitney for years and I’ve never even gotten a rejection email from them. And then I met you, and—and then it’s done. I’m in.” You look to him for an explanation.

“Okay, I admit,” Jin says, running a hand through his hair. “I put in a good word for you. But I did nothing more than mention to the board that I had seen your art and that I was very impressed by it.”

“That’s too much,” you frown.

“It’s not. It literally took thirty seconds of my time. And I did it because I genuinely believe in the vision of your projects.”

“If they believed in the vision of my projects, they would have accepted them without your name attached to it,” you snap.

“I—I’m sorry,” he says, looking down. “I didn’t realize it would upset you. I thought it would make you happy.”

You sigh, putting your hand on his arm. You only speak when he looks at you. “I’m upset, but I’m also really excited. I just—I want to do this on my own. I don’t want it to because of someone’s name. I want it to be because of my work. And I know that’s romantic and maybe not super realistic, but I need you to understand that that’s what I want.” You take a deep breath before continuing and he slips his hand into yours. “And more than that, I want to make it clear that I’m not just seeing you because of your status.”

“I understand,” he says softly, squeezing your hand. “So you’re seeing me now?”

You flush at your slip of tongue.

“I-I mean—”

“I’d like to see you,” he says. “If you’ll have me.”

Seokjin quickly became a constant fixture in your life. While he stopped involving himself in your work (and immediately after your conversation in the gallery, had quickly excused himself to make several calls to call off different projects and potential buyers) he did insist on buying your art supplies, moving you into a larger studio, and helping you work through the complicated process of finding grants to apply for. And of course, Jin was always ready to take care of your other, ahem, needs as well.

Your relationship quickly developed. You talked about the ins and outs of sex and your roles in the bedroom, but somehow never seemed to move the conversation about what you were to each other outside of your sheets—or the closet in the gallery, or the bathroom of your now-favorite bar.

PRESENT DAY

Jin sets his half-full glass down to make his way over to you. As he stands from the bar, an arm slides into his elbow, forcing him to turn away from you.

Your heart thrums in your chest as you stood at the top of the marble stairs, looking down into the outdoor amphitheater where tonight’s gala was being hosted.

You had arrived solo on your own instances. Even after a year together, you were still hesitant to show up as Seokjin’s date, knowing you were more likely to garner the title “girlfriend” than “artist.” Still, the thought of seeing Seokjin sent goosebumps chasing down your skin and you smiled softly to yourself as you searched the crowd for the tall man. You had come straight from your studio and there was still paint and paper mache stuck beneath your fingernails, a fact that didn’t quite fit into the posh environment you were in, but one that made you feel grounded nonetheless.

"Hello, darling," a deep voice sings into your ear. "You're looking particularly ravishing tonight."

You turn, expecting to see Seokjin. Instead, a strapping young man, unfamiliar but recognizable to you, stands in his place.

"Jeon Jungkook," you address the famous photographer as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to it. You suppress the urge to grimace as his lips meet your skin. The young man is undoubtedly handsome—there's no denying it—and you shyly look down as his eyes rove over you like you are a piece of art to be appraised.

"I've seen you at these events for quite a while now."

"Have you now?"

"Always on Mr. Kim's arm, too. Don't you think he's a little... maturefor you?"

It’s not like we’re together, you want to respond, but you hold your tongue. There was only a seven year age gap between you and Soekjin. And yet, because he carried himself with such discipline and stature, this was a constant question you had to navigate whether it came up in terms of your relationship with, working or otherwise.

“Speaking of Mr. Kim, have you seen him anywhere?” you ask, smiling tightly.

Jungkook takes your arm and turns you, pointing through the crowd.

There he is. Jin is dressed impeccably in a light-colored suit, the cut accenting his tall frame, broad shoulders, and narrow waist. You smile upon seeing him and wave, but he doesn’t see you.

There’s a flash of blonde hair and suddenly you realize what’s occupying Jin’s attentions.

You frown as you watch the woman's arm snake around Jin's. Tonight was supposed to have been a chance for the two of you to spend some quality time together, surrounded by beautiful art and artists, to see each other without interruption — but then again maybe a gala wasn't the best choice for quality time.

"There's something about you," Jungkook muses, oblivious to your distraction. "A light in your eye. Passion. You know, I would love to photograph you some time."

You glance over Jungkook's shoulder to see the woman with her hand gripping Jin's bicep, obviously trying to capture and hold his attention. And yet Jin's gaze is fixed on you. You meet his eyes, only to let a ghost of a smirk dash across your lips, before returning your focus to Jungkook. Even though you know Jin’s attention is only focused on you, you figure you might have some fun with the current situation.

"Oh really?" you say, blinking up at him flirtatiously. "And how would you have me?"

Jeon Jungkook was known for his abstract and mythological concepts. His photos were stunning, portraying story and eroticism at their most intellectual and beautiful.

"Aphrodite. No doubt."

Original, you think, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Hm," you hum, as if mulling it over. "Tell me more." Your switch from professional to outrightly coquettish startles him and he stumbles over his words for a moment before regaining his composure and leaning in.

"Pink lighting. Texture? Hm, dove wings. I've been playing with fabric lately—" Jungkook falls into the description of his concept, flowing so quickly through the smallest of details, almost as if he's thought this through before, specifically for you. Instead of listening, you watch Jin out of your peripheral vision. "I can almost imagine the magazine spread now."

Your attention snaps back to the young man in front of you and as an idea flashes across your mind, you do your best not to giggle and to remain serious. "You know, I would love to be spread out for you." You smile innocently and Jungkook gulps.

"I, ah—” Jungkook is stopped mid sentence as a hand is clapped on his shoulder.

"Jeon," Seokjin nods at the younger man, a stiff smile painting his face. "I see you've met my—" Your eyebrows shoot up at the slip, but Jin quickly catches himself. "YN. One of the best painters I know."

Jungkook scoffs. “Uh, yeah, obviously.” When he looks up to find you and Jin staring confusedly at him, he clears his throat. “I mean—what I meant to say is her talent is underrated. Which you probably already know.” He smiles sheepishly.

“Alright, then,” Jin says.

“Aw, thanks, Jungkookie,” you say, swatting his shoulder and you watch as the young man flushes while Jin’s brow raises in question at the use of the pet name.

“Drinks?” Jin says, breaking the quickly rising tension between the three of you. Taking your elbow he leads you towards the bar and Jungkook quickly trots behind. He orders another scotch and you shake your head, “Nothing for me.” As Jungkook leans over the bar, Jin steps behind you, his hand coming to rest gently on your waist.

“Behave,” he whispers.

“Hm?” you hum innocently, brushing your hair over your shoulders.

“At this rate, you’re asking to be punished,” Jin growls.

You smile sweetly up at him, pinching his cheek playfully before realizing where you are and who might see. You quickly snatch your hand back, hoping no one saw.

Jungkook turns back with a martini in hand. Interesting choice, you think.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Jungkook asks you.

“She already said she didn’t want anything.” Jin answers for you.

“I can speak for myself, thank you very much,” you cut in, crossing your arms. “But no, maybe later.”

A long moment of silence hangs between the three of you.

“Well, don’t mind me then. I have a couple of people I need to speak with.” Jin nods at the two of you and turns on his heel. You watch his tall frame, tracking where he’s going. The game is on.

It seems as the night drags on, Jin is purposefully ignoring you, knowing it’ll rile you up just enough. He continues to engage with artists and experts from all over the globe and Jungkook hangs at your side. Beyond the awkward flirtation he keeps throwing your way—which you don’t blame him for, considering you keep egging him on—he’s quite an intelligent young man with a vision.

After half an hour of Jin’s lack of presence, you’re bored and tired. The two of you wander around the gala, looking at the art pieces. When you see Jin hovering near one in the corner, you gently guide Jungkook over. As you approach, you realize why Jin has been spending so much time over here.

The eight by ten piece that you had sold to an anonymous buyer last week is hanging on the wall. The bright oranges and deep blues seem to shimmer and swim within the space compared to the crystal, silver, and gold pieces that pepper the event tonight.

“This is yours, right?” Jungkook asks. “I’d recognize the style anywhere.”

“Uh, yeah, I just didn’t expect it to be here. I sold it to an anonymous buyer last week. I have no idea how it got here.”

Jungkook looks confusedly at you. “Hm. Weird.”

You stare blankly at your own art for a while, puzzling over how it could have gotten to this level of a gala. The buyer from last week had said nothing about the gala. But here it is in front of you, big and commanding—and marked with a $500,000 price tag? The proceeds of tonight’s event were going directly to charity and still your mouth hangs open as you ogle the string of zeros in front of you.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Jungkook asks, breaking through your reverie. “I don’t mind getting it for you.”

“That’s so kind of you,” you smile, knowing that tonight’s event hosts an open bar. At that moment you notice Jin’s gaze finally, finallyresting on you. “Actually, your drink is looking pretty good to me right now.” You take a step closer to Jungkook, meeting his gaze and resting one of your hands gently on his elbow. He shudders under your touch.  As much as he puts on a confident front, you know your forwardness unravels him just enough. Without breaking eye contact, you reach into his martini glass and pull out a green olive. Opening your mouth slowly, you purse your lips around the round fruit before sucking it into your mouth. You open your mouth just enough for Jungkook to see how it rests on your tongue.

Jungkook’s jaw is hanging open.

“Oh my god.”

Suddenly, a hand is clasped onto Jungkook’s shoulder. He spins around to see a towering Jin. Jin’s features are relaxed and calm, but you catch the hard edge in his tone, even as it slips past Jungkook’s awareness.

“Jeon, I was just talking to an up-and-coming dancer earlier tonight. He’s looking to partner with a photographer for a project. I mentioned your work to him and he would love to talk to you.” Jin turns Jungkook to point to a handsome man standing across the room, a sun-filled smile dancing across his lips.

“Wait—really?” Jungkook looks flabbergasted.

“Of course, I admire your work,” Jin says.

“Wow, thank you. I really appreciate it.” He reaches out to shake Jin’s hand. “Thank you so much, sir.” A smirk threatens to break Jin’s calm demeanor.

“Anytime.”

Jungkook turns to walk towards the dancer but spins back towards you. “Don’t, uh, don’t go anywhere, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Once Jungkook is out of range of hearing, Jin steps closer to you. "Upstairs. Now."

Because tonight's gala was in part hosted by Seokjin and his company, it took place in the courtyard of one of Seokjin's highrises.

With the ghost of a smirk playing on your features, you turn on your heel, head held high, and make your way to the elevators.

It’s just like him to make you wait.

Twenty minutes after you arrived in the penthouse apartment, Jin was nowhere to be seen. So you kick your heels off and make your way to the fridge, finding an open bottle of your favorite wine that he kept in stock just for you. You pour yourself a glass and make your way to the gigantic kitchen island, leaning over it and scrolling through your phone. You know Jin would expect you to be waiting ready and in position for him, but tonight you feel like pushing the limits.

A gentle ding echoes through the living room. You click your phone off and look up just in time to see the silver door of the elevator slide shut behind him.

Seokjin runs a hand through his hair, loosening the strands from his perfect slicked-back look. You nearly salivate at the sight of him unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt, even as your heart beats like it is ready to jump straight out of your chest.

You gulp as his eyes land on you. Finally.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” you say.

“Have I?”

“Are you punishing me?”

“You won’t need to ask me if I’m punishing you when I’m punishing you. You’ll know.” Despite the coldness of his words, there’s a playful glint in his eyes. You know his anger is for show and not genuine. The direction you're headed is a space the two of you have carefully mapped out, experimented with, and discussed over the course of your relationship. When he slips into this role, it's for both of your pleasure, and never as an outlet for his anger. "So no, I'm not. At least, not yet."

"Jin—" you say.

"Sir," Jin corrects.

"—Sir," you repeat, standing up from the island and walking slowly towards him. You bat your eyes and saunter over to him, pressing yourself against his chest as you take one of his hands and guide it under your dress. His eyes widen when he realizes you're not wearing any underwear.

"God, you're wet."

"I wanna cum," you state matter of factly. You thought your directness might startle him, but instead, his composure remains unaffected.

"You misbehaved all night long," Jin murmurs in your ear. "But maybe if you're a good girl for me and take your punishment, we can talk about you cumming."

And just like that, his hand is gone.

"Are you gonna be good?"

You don’t respond. Instead, you smile sweetly at him. You meet his gaze but don’t move. He cocks an eyebrow and pulls you tight against him with one hand as he pinches your chin with the other.

"You thought you could use this pretty little costume of innocence,” he says as he plays with the sleeve of your dress, a sneer painting his face. “Dressed all in white, and so elegant too. You thought you could hide the whore you are beneath a dress like this?"

His grip on your hips tightens as he pushes you forward, turning you forcibly. It shocks the breath out of your lungs. He pulls you back, your ass flush against his hard but clothed cock. His hands grab your shoulders, steadying you.

"I'd like to fuck you in one of these cute little outfits sometime. But not tonight. Tonight I want you entirely bare." The next thing you know, the sound of ripping fabric fills the space and your dress falls down in shreds at your feet.

"My-my dress," you gasp.

"A shame.” He feigns a pout. “You looked so good in it. But you look even better like this."

It briefly flashes through your mind that you're not sure how you're going to be able to leave, as you hadn't brought a change of clothes—and then that concern is quickly replaced by the confusion as he bends down to examine you.

"When was the last time you touched yourself?" Jin asks as he runs a finger over your slit. You shudder at the sensation.

"You were the last one to touch me."

“So you’re telling me you’re ready to flirt with any man who approaches you, make him think you’re gonna let him fuck you, but then it’s all for show?” He slips a single finger into your cunt. “What a tease.”

“For you,” you gasp as he hooks his finger and hits a particularly sensitive spot. “I would never.”

“Never what?”

“Never fuck another man.”

“Your actions tonight tell me something else.”

Your brow furrows as Jin adds a second finger.

“I-I just wanted you to pay attention.”

"That’s all you wanted, hm, little one? My attention?"

"Yes, sir," you mumble back.

"Good. You have it." He pulls his fingers from your dripping entrance and stands.

Your brows furrowed in frustration. "I want more," you say.

"And I want you to behave yourself when we're out in public together. It seems like neither of us is getting what we want, hm?" When you pout, he chuckles. "But I bet you can make it up to me. Take your punishment like a good girl. And we'll see if we can't both have what we want." You nod, eagerly. "Go bend over the couch and wait for me."

You quickly lay yourself over the arm of the black leather couch that stretches across the sprawling living room. Jin disappears into one of the back rooms for a moment, but you soon hear his footsteps echoing on the marble, approaching you from behind. He rests a hand on your bare ass, roving over it in slow circles before coming to kneel down beside you.

"Safeword?"

"Peaches."

His eyes search yours—checking, making sure you're really okay with this before he continues, that same awareness never leaving his eyes. "Good. You'll use it if you need to."

You nod.

“You know why I have to do this right?” Jin asks, his voice calm and clear as he stands and steps out of your line of vision. You can hear the clink of a belt buckle as he doubles it up in his hand.

“I disobeyed you.”

“And?”

“I didn’t listen when you asked me to stop.”

“And what exactly did I want you to stop doing?”

“Flirting with him.”

“Who? Say his name.”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

He chuckles. “I want that to be the last time his name leaves your lips tonight. Understood?” You nod, wholeheartedly. “The poor boy. You left him so hard and eager for your pretty little cunt. I bet he thought he was going to get to fuck you after all that teasing. Tell me, is that what you wanted him to think?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“And yet, after all that work and you were so quick to drop him just for me. I’m going to spank you and you’re going to take it like a good girl. Seven hits. Count for me.”

That’s when the first hit lands. The air in your lungs whooshes out of you in shock. After the initial pain, a soft warmth spreads through your cheeks.

“I said, count.”

“One,” you say, your voice strong.

The belt comes down on you a second time, cracking against your other cheek. “Two.” Your nails dig into the leather of the couch and his hand spreads across your ass, soothing over the spots where he’s hit you. The feeling of his fingertips against your skin brings coolness to the surface of your burning skin and the contrast sends arousal spiraling through your core.

“Good girl.”

Smack.

“Three.”

On four, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. The number comes out as a gasp, a puff of air and you realize you’ve been holding something else in. Shame. Guilt. Upset.

On five, you let out a particularly loud yelp, your cry of pain mixing with emotion and cutting through your pronunciation. Jin's hand immediately brushes across your sore ass to smooth over the most recent hit.

"Color?" he says softly.

"Green—green, please, keep going," you pant, tears threatening your eyes.

“Only two left.”

On six, you feel something split within you. You know it isn’t just about tonight, about your disobedience or your flirtations with a strange man. It’s about holding back. It’s about letting your brattiness build a wall between the warm thing that’s been building in your chest and Jin, the man who keeps showing up for you.

“Seven! M’ sorry!” you call out as seven comes down on your ass. The wall splits open within you, sending a flood of emotion and endorphins through your body. All you want is to fall into this sensation. The one where he’s here for you, and you can let him be here for you.

Jin smoothes his hands over your ass one final time. You wince slightly, knowing it’s going to be painful to sit for the next couple of days. And yet all you can feel is a golden glow, pulsing through your veins, tinting your perception. Your body feels lighter, the space around you more spacious, and the look in Jin’s eyes is glowing.

Jin pulls you up to your feet, searching your eyes to make sure you’re alright. He finds a strange, new warmth in them, one that spills out completely for him. And something close to daze.

“No hands.” Still, you can’t help but reach out to him, lacing your fingers into the front of his shirt. “I said, no hands.” You refuse to remove them. He’s suddenly stepping back from you.  "You can't seem to listen, can you, little one? Hands behind your back." You stare blankly at him. "I won't ask you twice."

You bring your hands behind you, clasping one hand around a wrist. He circles around you until he's out of your range of sight. You hear the tearing of fabric and then the cool brush of what you assume must be your dress wrapping around your wrists as Jin expertly ties them together. When the knot is tight and secure, he walks slowly back around you so you're face to face.

"Kneel."

Your knees hit the cold marble floor.

"Suck my cock."

"But—" You attempt to protest, your hands still tied behind your back. Your voice trails off as his eyes harden.

His belt is already open and you take the cold metal in your mouth, leaning your head back as you pull it out of the loops. It's an awkward angle, but you do your best and soon it falls to the floor with a clink. You glance up at him, searching for validation. His gaze is still hard, but there's a glimmer of a smile—pride? delight?—hanging at the corner of his lips.

"Keep going."

Leaning forward, you nudge your nose along the hard length sporting in his pants. His arousal is more than apparent through the fabric of his pants: thick, and long, and impossibly hard. Without breaking eye contact, you stick your tongue out of your mouth and slowly trace it up the length of his covered cock.

His hand tightens in your hair and you yelp as pain shoots into your scalp.

"I asked you to do something. Are you getting distracted?" What was once painful has quickly turned into a delicious pleasure as your face flushes, the hand in your hair teasing tingles down your spine. "Answer me." He grips your hair tighter, forcing your head back even further.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

He releases his grasp just enough that you're able to lean back to the tenting bulge in his pants, but still does not release you fully.

Carefully, you suck the button of his slacks into your mouth, expertly sucking and tonguing the cold metal until you feel it slip through the hole, before moving down to pull the zipper between your teeth and tug it all the way down. You gasp as you realize he's not wearing underwear and your cunt contracts around nothing. You're face to face with his bare cock.

"Sir, may I?"

He nods and you immediately lean forward to lick a broad, wet stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip. Without the use of your hands, you find yourself relying on the movements of your upper body and your mouth to pleasure him.

Slowly, you lick around the angry red head of his cock, teasing a light gasp from him. You continue to do this until you know he’s just on the edge of frustration and before he can say anything, you purse your lips around him.

As you take him into your mouth, you’re particularly aware of the remainder that you’re unable to fit. Usually, you would wrap one or both of your hands around him, stroking him where you couldn’t reach. But now that’s inaccessible to you.

Relaxing your throat, you attempt to take him deeper but choke at the sensation of his thick head hitting the back of your throat.

"You're so good at this, almost as if you were made to have your mouth stuffed with cock."

His praise urges you to take him deeper and press past the urge to gag. Taking a deep breath, you edge forward, allowing him to slip into the tight confines of your throat. He hiss at this and his hands tighten in your hair, this being the first time you’ve deepthroated him. Tears well in your eyes, blurring your vision as you continue to ease him deeper within you.

He begins thrusting into your throat. If you could reach up to wrap your hand around your throat, you would feel the protrusion of his cock pressing forward through the skin of your throat, visible and bulging.

You choke around him and he audibly groans at the sensation.

Jin looks down to find tears streaming out of your face, chin wet with drool. The sight of you, so lost in your actions, strikes something in his chest. As you meet his gaze, your lips so pink and pouted around him, the glaze in your eyes filled with adoration, his hips buck and he thrusts into your throat.

“I’m gonna cum,” he growls. “And I want you to swallow every last drop of it.”

He grabs your head as he fucks up into you one last time, pushing your nose against his pubic bone. You can feel his cum, hot and bitter, sliding down your throat. He doesn’t release you until he’s done. Finally, he pulls you off of him, your lips releasing from his spent cock with a pop.

Air comes rushing back into your lungs, replacing the black spots that had started to pepper your vision with starshine as you look up at Jin clearly. His forehead is shining with sweat and his cheeks are flushed in pleasure. He’s never prettier than he is now, spent with passion.

Jin quickly regains his wits as he pulls you up and takes his thumb to wipe the combination of drool and cum from your chin.

Something gleams in his eye.

“Up against the window,” he orders.

“Wha—”

Before you can finish your sentence, Jin is walking you backward until your back hits the cold glass. You gasp at the sensation of your heated ass cheeks mixed with the cold spark of the smooth surface.

With your back against the glass, hips pushed towards him again, he kisses languidly up your stomach. There is a gentleness in the way his lips whispered against your skin that shoots something through your chest and leaves you wanting more of whatever it is.

You gather yourself enough to look down and see his plump lips pursed around a nipple. As your eyes meet, he bites down around the swollen bud, and you whimper. He continues to bite and suck your breasts, drawing increasingly lewd sounds from you.

But then his lips leave the tender flesh of your breasts and kiss their way upwards to your neck. For a moment you think his gentle side might return, only to squirm beneath him as his teeth graze the delicate skin. Before you know it, his lips are pressed against you and he's sucking the skin in between his teeth.

"You'll leave a mark!" You exclaim, bound hands struggling to escape from where they’re still tied behind your back But he's quicker and stronger than you and he holds you down, stilling your movements, before continuing to suck and bite at your neck.

"Good." He moves his mouth to the hollow of your throat, sucking a bruise to the surface of your skin. "I want everyone to know exactly who you belong to. I want you to wear me, so no one even has a doubt in their mind whose slut you are."

As you look down, you realize he’s hard again. It’s not uncommon for him to be up and ready to go for a second or third round. His cock is red and rock-hard, and as he realizes what you’re looking at he smirks.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes, sir.” You swallow. “Want it—want you.”

“Do you think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You took your punishment well,” he muses languidly. “And you sucked Sir off so well, too.”

He drags a finger through your slit, forcing you to buck up into his touch.

“Please—” you gasp.

“Since you asked so nicely—” abruptly, he spins you around so you’re facing towards the window. “I’ll fuck you. But I want everyone to see exactly the kind of slut you are for this cock.”

“But—”

“Color?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. From this far up, you can see the gala, still in full swing. Even from this height, you can see their individual faces and you know if any of the people in sparkling gowns and tailored suits were to look up and squint, they would see your fucked-out form pressed against the window of the penthouse, your hands bound behind your back thrusting your chest forward obscenely. The thought sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“Green.”

“Good.”

At that, you feel the head of his cock brush against your dripping entrance. Jin looks down to see his huge cock resting against your red cheeks. You look tiny compared to him, and the sight makes him even harder. As he grips the base of his dick, he pushes gently against your entrance, the bulbous head slipping inside. His cock twitches as he hears you moan.

Jin is undoubtedly the biggest cock you’ve ever fucked. Even after months of him filling you, he was still a tight fit. While you often used lube to ease the slide in, tonight you were dripping wet, your arousal coating your swollen lips and beginning to run down your inner thighs. Slowly, he pushes into you. The sensation of being filled, of being stretched by him has you moaning, the sound filling the spacious apartment.

“You’re such a good slut for me, you take this cock so well,” Jin says as he presses the last inch of his length into you.

Kim Seokjin is a man of control. Despite the painful ache in his cock and the burning desire to pound into you, he isn't done drawing out your pleasure. Torturously slow, he slides his cock in and out of your tight cunt, his thick head dragging against your walls. You whine wantonly, pushing back against him.

He stops.

"Please. Sir," you nearly sob. "Need you."

"And I need you to use your words. This is mine." He reaches down to spread his palm over your sore ass, spreading you even further open for him. The sight of you impaled on his thick cock is one he’ll never get used to. "And I'll do what I want with it."

He can feel you shudder at his words, knowing that his possessiveness affected you just as much as it did him.

"You like that?" he growls. "Knowing you're mine? You're stuffed full of cock and still you want more. What a greedy slut."

"Please, Sir. Need you to fuck me," you beg. Still, Jin makes no indication of moving. "Please. Need you to show them who I belong to."

That does it.

“You. Belong. To. Me.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, his cock spearing through the tightness of your walls.

“Fuck,” you hiss as he lifts your leg. The head of his cock begins to hit the knot of pleasure that’s tightly wound within your cunt. “Sir, you feel so good.” It’s all you can think about.

“He’s down there, isn’t he?” For a moment you’re not even sure who he’s talking about, so lost in pleasure and the sensations he’s teasing out of your body. “He could look up at any moment and see you like this, tits out, pressed up against the glass, letting me ruin you like this.” You moan at his words. “I bet you would like that, slut.” He punctuates the final word with a particularly hard thrust.

Your pussy clenches around him and he moans as he feels your tight walls grip him tighter.

“I think there’s a part of you that loves the idea of the world watching you get fucked.”

"Gonna—gonna cum," you gasp, your words stuttered out of your mouth by Jin's rough thrusts. "Sir, please, can I come?"

"No."

"Sir, please."

"Did you not hear me?" he growls. "Listen, or I'll stuff that pretty little mouth with something less pleasant than my cock."

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your abdominal muscles in an attempt to hold back the waves of euphoria that threaten to wash over you any moment now.

“Please, sir, need to come. I’ll do anything.” The tears that have been threatening to run down your face finally spill over as you’re split in pleasure and discomfort. “Please, anything.”

Jin releases your leg with a grunt and pushes your legs together, making it a tighter fit for both of you. With one hand he pushes down on your lower back, arching it for you. His other hand comes to wrap around your bound wrists, using the grip to power his thrusts into you. Somehow the new angle makes him seem even bigger than he already is and you mewl.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Jin,” you force out, trying to find your words through the pleasure that he’s pounding into you. “Only you.” Too late, you realize that you had used the wrong name for him and you gasp, ready for whatever correction he deems fit for you.

But it seems that’s exactly what he wanted you to say.

“Good girl. Cum. Now.”

As soon as the sound has left his lips your orgasm barrels through you.

“Jin!” you cry. You throw your head back, white overtaking your vision. Your cunt pulses around his hard length, spasming for what feels like minutes. Your breath freezes in your throat as sparks of pleasure flood your body.

Watching you come unraveled around his name is what does it for him. He groans as his orgasm washes over him, sending waves of pleasure throughout his whole body. He shudders against you, releasing ropes of cum into your still-pulsating cunt. You can feel his cock twitch against your oversensitive walls as he empties himself into you. His breath is heavy against your neck as his arms tighten around you. As much as you love the Jin in control, these moments when he releases all pretenses are precious to you.

Even as he stays sheathed within you, you can feel his cum begin to drip out of your cunt, running down your thighs. When he finally pulls out, the mix of your combined orgasms gushes out of you and you frown at the proceeding sensation of emptiness.

As you slump against the window, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure and exhaustion, you feel Jin’s large hands ghost down your arms, releasing the fabring binding your wrists together. When he’s done, his hands come to rest on your hips, turning you as he kneels down in front of you. You gasp as you feel him swipe two of his fingers through the swollen folds of your cunt, as he collects his own cum. The sensation splits you in overwhelm.

"Open," Jin commands, standing up. You open your mouth and he slides the two cum covered fingers past your lips. "Suck." Dutifully, you press your lips around him, swallowing around him until he pulls out, not a drop of cum left on his fingers. His eyes burn in desire, and if it weren't for the exhaustion apparent in your posture, you know he would be ready to go for a second round. "Good girl."

You smile softly up at him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He holds you close and the two of you simply breathe together. You feel comforted against his large frame, his breath flowing easily and freely through him, your own body finding solace in the soft rhythm. He holds you like that for what feels like forever before he tips your weight into his body and leads you to the sleek leather couch. There, he sits down, pulling you into his lap. You curl up against his wide chest, nestling your nose into the crook of his neck.

"How are you?" he asks as he brushes the hair out of your eyes.

"Feel so good," you murmur, eyes fluttering shut in the afterglow that radiates throughout your whole body. Every muscle in your body feels warm and stretched.

"Do you want me to bring you to bed?" After all this time, Jin knows how sleepy you get after a scene like this.

"Mm, surprisingly not sleepy. Just... happy."

He holds you for a while, and you bask in the feeling of his arms wrapped securely around you and the light brush of his steady breath against your hair.

“Earlier,” you begin slowly. “You slipped. You started to call me ‘my’—and then you stopped. What were you going to say?”

Jin is quiet and for a moment you wonder if you misspoke.

“Honestly?” he finally says, his voice brushing over you like a soft breeze.

“Honestly,” you repeat, twisting into him to look him in the eyes. There’s something desperately gentle in his gaze. You could fall into it.

“Honestly, I don’t really know where my mind was going in that moment.” He pauses, chewing over his words. “But, I would like to call you mine—in some way.”

“Yours?”

He nods, shyly. “Mine.”

“Sure, I’ll be yours,” you grin, snuggling into his chest.

“Yeah?”

“But only if you’ll be mine, too.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

Seokjin pulls you tighter and just holds you like that for several minutes before he stands up and disappears into the bedroom for a moment. When he returns, he's holding a slim black box, which he hands to you.

"Put this on," he says.

You open the box to reveal a small black number.

"We're going back?" you ask.

"Only to get our winnings," he grins back to you, pushing his hair back again. "And to show everyone just exactly how much I won tonight."

“What do you mean, winnings?”

“I made a purchase tonight.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “The most colorful piece in the whole building.”

“—You?”

Jin smirks and comes behind you to zip up the beautiful piece of clothing. He traces over the bruises blossoming on your shoulders and neck with a gentle touch before pressing his lips to each and every one of them.

"Only if you're comfortable," he adds softly as you melt against his touch. There's no doubt you're tired. But still, the idea of finally walking into an event with Jin—no pretenses, no questions, no secrets—just together, has a thrill sparking in your core.

“I’m always comfortable with you,” you grin, taking his hand and leading him to the elevators.

|| masterlist || moodboard || ao3 ||

taglist:  @velvetwicebang​​ @spicykoreantatertots​ @usuallynervoussheep​ @dulcaet​ 

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Get Me to the Church On Time

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson! Reader

Words: 3037

Part 3 of 4 (Part One, Part Two)

Summary: Preparations for the wedding are in full swing and it’s time to go dress shopping. With you out with the girls, Enzo is left to find the perfect suit with none other than your protective older brothers. Needless to say, tensions are high.

Note: Part Three!!! And I’m bringing in the Vampire Diaries crew for the wedding. More Damon/Enzo bromance on the way, along with some girl fun with Caroline and Bonnie. Like the others, this one jumps around a bit some more, but I hope it isn’t too confusing. I’m just bad at writing transitions. (Repost Notes: Ugh, going through these makes me so happy, you guys!

-

The sound of suitcases rolling on the sidewalk made your heart leap. You sat up from your spot on the couch, Enzo stirring slightly next to you. He made a sound of confusion as you smacked his arm. 

“They’re here!” You exclaimed, sprinting outside. The blonde and the brunette were arguing over something but immediately stopped when they saw you. 

“I told you this was the right place!” Caroline squealed, rushing towards you for a hug. Bonnie set her bag down and joined the group hug. 

“I can’t believe this is all happening.” You sighed as the three of you pulled apart. “There’s not even a week left until the wedding and I haven’t even found the dress yet.” Caroline laced her arm through yours and Bonnie’s.

“Why do you think we’re here?” She beamed. They grabbed their bags and you led them into the compound where Freya invited Caroline in and Enzo stiffened uncomfortably. 

“Bonnie… Caroline. How nice to see you.” He put on a tight smile and Bonnie rolled her eyes. He rubbed his hands together, signaling his discomfort. He didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye with your best friends. “Well, I’m sure Y/N can show you to your rooms.” He cast you a pleading look and you smirked. 

“Right this way ladies.” You led them away, the two of them turning back at Enzo and giggling. You couldn’t help but laugh along. “You guys really hate him, don’t you?” You said as soon as the door to their room was closed. 

“We don’t… hate him.” Bonnie clarified. “We just-hmm.” She tried to think of the right word. Caroline kicked her shin. “Ow! What was that for?”

“If you like Enzo, we like Enzo.” Caroline promised. Bonnie nodded in skeptical agreement. “Besides, he’s the reason we get to go dress shopping, on an unlimited budget, in New Orleans.” She took your face in her hands. “You are not allowed to worry about anything. We are here now and we shall tend to everything. Right Bonnie?”

“What are bridesmaids for?” She smiled, her skepticism breaking away. 

“I completely agree.” Rebekah said from the doorway. Her arms were crossed and her face held a dangerously smug look. As the maid of honor she was going to have to interact with the other bridesmaids at some point. With a quick begging glance from you, her smug look spread into a sincere smile. “And in order to do that, I suggest that we set aside our differences for the coming days. From now until the reception ends, we are nothing more than the friends and family to my dear sister Y/N.” The two girls considered this and shrugged. 

“I don’t see why not.” Caroline finally said and motioned for Rebekah to come further into the room, pulling a small planner out of her suitcase. “Today is dress shopping day. While we will be at the boutique at 2:00, the boys will be taking Enzo to get his suit. After that is all taken care of, Enzo and Y/N will get to have one final date night to themselves before becoming a married couple.” You looked down at your watch. 

“Well it’s only noon, so we’ll just have to find something to keep us busy until the appointment.” You suggested showing the girls around town, but you could tell Bonnie was tired from the long trip here. “Perhaps Rebekah can catch me up on everything I’ve missed down here in the quarter.” 

“How about I treat us all to lunch?” Rebekah offered. “Just us girls, of course.” She winked at your two best friends, who still seemed slightly uneased by her presence. You clasped your hands together mouthing the word “Please” over and over again. Bonnie grinned, only mildly reluctant. 

“So long as you’re paying.”

The four of you headed down the stairs to find Enzo surrounded by your three brothers, all looking as intimidating and menacing as ever. When he saw you, Enzo smiled nervously. 

“There’s my lovely fiancé!” He exclaimed, wrapping his arm around you and looking back at your brothers with a gaze that said ‘See, I’m safe now!’. “Klaus and I were just talking about you.” 

“Oh really?” You inquired, shooting Nik and deadly glare. “I would love to stay and chat, but we’ve decided to go out to lunch before we head to the Bridal Boutique this afternoon.” Enzo went pale. 

“Just the four of you?” He squeaked and Kol snickered. 

“Well it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride’s dress before the wedding.” You shrugged. “Besides, you have to go look at suits with my brothers.” His eyes were filled with a comical amount of fear. “Also…” You pulled him aside, though you knew everyone would be listening in. It was hard to have a private conversation in a room full of people with supernatural hearing. “Don’t you need to make a phone call?” 

“I was… planning on it.” He nodded and you smacked the back of his head. “Ow! What in bloody hell was that for?” 

“Call. Him.” You growled and he slumped his shoulders, groaning. 

“Okay fine.” You started to walk away, but he kept his hand on your elbow. “And do you think it’s a good idea to leave me with them?” You turned to your brothers. 

“Klaus will be on his best behavior, won’t you Nik.” You said, the threat of ripping him limb from limb should anything happen to Enzo in your voice. “Besides, Elijah will be there and he will keep the others in line.”

“I shall do my best.” Elijah chuckled, putting a hand on Enzo’s shoulder. He tried not to flinch. 

“Great! Well we will be heading out then. I’ll see you later tonight.” You place a quick kiss on Enzo’s cheek before rushing off the girls. 

The impending doom looming over him intensified as Klaus stepped forward. 

“Well if they’re going out, I don’t see why we can’t get a bite to eat.” He stared menacingly at Enzo, who gulped. “Who’s hungry?” 

-

You stood in front of the mirror, running your hands down the tulle skirt. It was a gorgeous dress, but it just wasn’t the dress. Luckily, when you came out of the dressing room, your entourage agreed with your doubts in a very vocal manner. 

“No.” Rebekah shook her head, her eyes traveling up and down the length of fabric. “You look like a glorified Barbie.” 

“Actually, I agree. Way too much sparkle.” Caroline quipped. Bonnie nodded. The attendant came in asking what everyone thought. 

“My sister shall look nothing less than royalty.” Rebekah commanded. She pulled the woman towards her. “Find her the most elegant dress in the store, then come back and ask me.” She compelled and the woman sashayed off. 

“And make sure it’s sexy!” Caroline called after her. The four of you giggled.

It was almost perfect, but a part of your heart was still aching. You knew exactly what was missing. You felt your shoulders fall and looking around, your eyes filled with tears.  Caroline immediately noticed and jumped off of the couch. 

 “You can’t cry yet! You haven’t even picked a dress!” She whined, putting her hands on your shoulders, trying to read what was wrong. You laughed and wiped the moisture from your cheeks.

“I just wish Elena could be here. With all of us.” You had always imagined all of your friends being there if you ever got married and now… it just seemed incomplete. Bonnie nodded in agreement and held up her glass of champagne. 

“To Elena.” She toasted. “I’m sure she’s watching over this from whatever weird, supernatural coma world she’s in.” The rest of you held up your glasses with small, sad smiles and echoed. 

“To Elena.” 

-

Enzo stood uncomfortably as the tailor fitted the suit onto him. The rest of the room was completely silent, with the occasional question from the tailor that Enzo would answer quickly and quietly. Klaus sat, sharpening the leg of the wooden table next to him. Elijah was flipping through the newspaper and Kol just looked bored.   

“Do stop that Niklaus,” Elijah sighed. “You’re being childish.” 

“Someone has to be prepared for when this all blows over.” Klaus shrugged. Enzo clenched his fists but remained silent. “Now as to how I’ll kill him, I haven’t entirely decided.”

“I think you two should be a little more excited.” Kol stood up, circling around Enzo and pointing something out to the tailor. “We are to have a new brother! Someone else to add to the family drama. To torment for the rest of our never ending lives.” He grinned. Enzo couldn’t tell if Kol was mocking him, or attempting to be sincere. From what Y/N had told him about her twin, he figured it was a bit of both and the best he was going to get. 

“I’m just taking the necessary precaution for when this riff raff breaks our sister’s heart.” He threw the stake at Enzo, who barely ducked in time. 

“That is it!” Enzo shouted, his temper finally getting the better of him. “I have done nothing but love Y/N for as long as I have had the pleasure of knowing her. How dare you accuse me of not meeting your standards- which, by the way, are designed for every man who comes into your sister's lives to fail. Y/N loves me and I love her and I will not stand for anyone who suggests otherwise.” The sudden outburst made all three brothers stare at Enzo in surprise. Elijah put down his paper, seeing his younger brother draw closer to the young vampire.

 Enzo’s eyes widened with fear as Klaus came towards him. This was it. This was the end. And he didn’t even get to finish the suit. The hybrid leaned in close, his voice deep and mischievous. 

“Now there’s the spirit I’ve heard so much about.” Klaus smirked. Enzo lowered his brows in confusion. “No need to fuss, I’m still planning your gruesome death, but for now…” He clapped his hands together. “We have a wedding to prepare for.” He tossed Enzo’s cell phone to him. “And if I remember correctly you have a phone call to make. Tell Damon I said hello.” Klaus compelled the tailor to take a break and the three Mikaelsons left the room. 

Enzo sighed and dialed the number.

“What now?” Damon answered. 

“I have to ask you something…” Enzo ran his fingers through his hair. Why was this so hard? Damon was probably his only friend in the living world, so he didn’t really have any other options. “You see, Y/N and I are getting married-”

“Yeah, Caroline told me.” Damon interrupted. “Congrats on becoming part of the psycho original family.” 

“Damon,” Enzo snapped, growing impatient. “I’m trying to ask you to be my best man.” The other line went silent. 

“Wow…” Damon blew out a breath. “I mean… yeah. Sure. Why not? I love weddings.” Changing his tone, he poured himself a drink as usual and made a mental note to get a tux. “Where are you getting married again? Is it a destination wedding, because I would love to go to Hawaii-” 

“It’s in New Orleans.” Enzo said and he could hear Damon nearly choke on his drink. 

“No. No way. You’re on your own.” As he went to hang up, Enzo started to beg. 

“Please Damon. I know that you don’t have a great reputation with Y/N’s family, but this is really important for me.” He pleaded. With still no answer, he let out a desperate sigh. “You’re the only friend I’ve got.” Damon was quiet for a long time, having an angry debate with himself before finally answering.

“I’ll be there.” 

-

The night was glistening with stars, along with the multitude of candles Caroline had strung about the courtyard. She had transformed the space into the perfect place for one final romantic dinner before Enzo and you tied the knot. Bonnie, Rebekah, and Freya had spent the past two hours helping you get ready. Caroline had insisted on formal- and on picking out the dress. As much as you hated to admit, your friend had impeccable taste. The dress was the perfect mix of sexy and elegant, much like the dress you had chosen earlier that day. 

Enzo stood patiently outside your door, offering his arm as you finally emerged. He tried to keep his jaw from dropping. 

“You look stunning.” He smiled and suddenly all of the feelings you had first felt when the two of you started dating came rushing back. All of the nerves mixed with excitement. All of the short electric bursts shooting through your skin. Everything burned brighter and lit up your face in a way that made you glow. As he led you down the stairs, your eyes glittered in the lights. Enzo couldn’t imagine you looking more beautiful than you did in that moment. 

He pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat across the table. A bottle of wine waited beside a basket of fresh bread from a nearby bakery.

At first you couldn’t think of anything to say. You just twisted your pasta around and around on your fork as Enzo poured the wine. He, too, seemed to feel the awkwardness between you and he chuckled softly to himself. 

“Why does it suddenly feel so much harder to talk?” He asked in a tone of amused frustration. You laughed, letting your shoulders relax as you took a sip of wine.

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” You sighed, letting a genuine smile spread across your face. “It’s probably just the nerves for the wedding, but I can hardly breathe half the time, let alone hold a conversation.”

“It is daunting, isn’t it?” He mused, placing a hand on top of yours. “An eternity with me?” 

“Frankly, I can’t think of anything better.” You smiled and raised your glass for your second toast that day. “Here’s to the next five days before the rest of our eternity.” He clinked his glass gently against yours, admiring the view before him. The candle light made a halo around your head and the flowers that Caroline had picked brought out the color of your eyes. 

“You have truly outdone yourself.” Klaus told Caroline, who was standing next to him on the balcony above the couple. 

“It’s their last dinner as a non-married couple.” She shrugged. “I figured a little romance was necessary.”  She eyed him suspiciously. “So you’re really okay with this?”

“Okay with what?” He asked innocently, though he knew exactly what she meant. She cocked an eyebrow. 

“With your sister getting married.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I mean, every time Rebekah has found a lover, he is either brutally murdered or he mysteriously vanishes.” 

“I haven’t decided what I shall do with Lorenzo yet.” Klaus gave her a mischievous look and she rolled her eyes. 

“He might be a handful, but Enzo is a pretty good guy. Especially when he’s with Y/N.” She thought for a second before adding. “He kind of reminds me of you.” 

“Surely he doesn’t meet my grand stature.” Klaus brought her hand up to his lips. “If you would excuse me, dear Caroline, I believe I shall turn in for the night.” He saw the blush rush to her cheeks and smirked before walking away with a slight skip in his step. 

As you watched your brother make his way to his room, you stood from the table and excused yourself for a moment, cutting Klaus off before he reached the door. 

“Can I talk to you, Nik?” You asked and he tilted his head to the side with curiosity. You both went into the study, shutting the door behind you. Elijah had been relaxing in his favorite chair after his own romantic dinner with Hayley. He put down his book and looked at you in anticipation. 

“Is something wrong?” He wondered and you shook your head. 

“I have something I have been meaning to ask the two of you…” You paused, trying to think of how to phrase what you were about to say. It was one of the most important questions besides your proposal to Enzo itself. “You see… I would very much like it if- well you know Kol isn’t all that sentimental, and you both mean so much to me. You’re my brothers, for heaven’s sake! You have always been there for me no matter what trouble I found myself in.” You knew you were ranting again and took a deep breath, trying to get to the point. “I love you both so dearly and I was hoping that you would both give me away.” 

At first neither brother said anything. They just stared at you as emotion filled their eyes and loving smiles appeared on their faces. 

“It would be an honor.” Elijah beamed. Klaus shrugged. 

“Well I suppose I have nothing else going on.” He teased. You pulled both of them into a hug, tears of joy filling your eyes. Elijah had always been there for you, but it was Klaus that you were so ecstatic about agreeing. It meant that- in his own, strange way- that he approved of you being married to Enzo. And that meant the world to you. 

Elijah placed a light kiss on your forehead, Klaus doing the same, and the two pulled away. 

“Now, I believe that you have a romantic dinner to get back to.” Elijah pointed out. “And we mustn't keep Lorenzo waiting.” 

“Let him wait!” Klaus said draping his arm over your shoulder. “We take priority in this household.” Both you and Elijah chuckled and you kissed Klaus’ cheek.

“Elijah’s right, Nik. I should get back. Before he runs off with some trollop off the street.” You gave him a wink. Kol had told you about the suit fitting and you couldn’t help but tease Nik about it. You knew he was just being his usual over-protective self, but your fiancé had stood up to him. It made you love Enzo even more- something you didn’t even think was possible.  

Keep Reading to: A Bourbon Street Wedding

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General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[labyrinth-runner]

Kilts and Kisses

Secret Cupid Submission

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, @peacefulwizardfox​. I accidentally posted this early so I’m really hoping I didn’t just ruin the surprise. 

Here’s some cute, fluffy Obi-Wan x Reader action for you.

Summary: Obi-Wan and Reader head to Stewjon to track down the source of missing resources. What they find instead? Feelings.

Warnings: None

Word count: Almost 5000. I’m not apologizing.

“Resources are missing. To Stewjon you will go. Get to the bottom of this, you must,” Master Yoda had said. His voice echoed in your mind as you watched the streaks of stars pass outside the viewport of your room. You had split off from Master Kenobi, noting that he took on a somber attitude since take off. 

However, left to your own thoughts, you found yourself thinking of the Jedi that was sent with you. You’ve always admired Master Kenobi. He was efficient and perhaps the best Jedi that you knew. Yet.... you couldn’t deny that he was also the most handsome Jedi that you knew. That thought had been banished to the back of your mind ever since you two had parted ways to become padawans to your respective Masters. The years apart did nothing to dull your feelings, unfortunately.

A breath passed through your lips as you heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”

Obi-Wan entered and took a seat on the bunk next to you. “We’ll be arriving shortly.”

“Will you finally tell me what the plan is?” you asked with a slight smile. “After spending all that time alone, surely you have one by now.”

“Well, Stewjon is a fairly popular destination for people looking for agricultural work,” Obi-Wan noted.

“So we’re farmers,” you nodded. “With zero agricultural experience.”

“I never said it was a good plan,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “Fair enough.”

You felt the ship come out of hyperspace and got up. “Come on, let’s go land this ship.”

The world that you landed on was lush and green. There were sprawling hills and valleys filled with farms and small cottages on the outskirts. There were a few cities speckled here and there, great walls of stone erected to protect them.

“It’s odd to see such a peaceful planet with so many defenses,” you commented as you walked through the city.

“The early people of the planet were feudal clans. Since then, there’s been peace between them,” Obi-Wan explained. “But the Clans are still in charge, and there is still a bit of competitive friction between them.”

“If there’s friction, then how fragile is their peace?” you asked skeptically.

“Not as fragile as you would think. Every year they host games where the Clans compete against each other. It’s a way to get out aggression and foster unity,” he replied.

You nodded, “Well, how exactly are we going to investigate the missing resources?”

“Well, if we can get jobs as-”

“Abhainn!” A woman cried out as she grabbed the arm of the man beside her.

“Edine, what is it?” the man asked as he turned to her.

She pointed at the two of you and you froze.

“Well, this is the fastest I’ve ever been caught on a mission,” you muttered.

“You’ve clearly never been on a mission with me,” Obi-Wan sighed as the couple came over to you.

“I’m tellin’ you, Abhainn, it has to be,” she murmured in awe. “A mother always knows.”

“Lad, what’s your name?” the man asked.

Obi-Wan cast a glance at you. “Why?”

“You just... look like a boy I had to give up a long time ago,” Edine said softly, “We gave him up to be a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in shock. “I-”

“This is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” you said, gracefully stepping forward to take his hand. 

Edine smiled broadly and enveloped Obi-Wan in a strong hug. “A sheòid,” she said happily.

Obi-Wan hugged back, a conflicted look in his eyes.

She pulled back, confusion apparent on her face, “But why are you back? We thought you were to be a Jedi, a sheòid?”

“I was,” Obi-Wan looked at you, catching your eye with a smirk. He held up your hand in his, “But, then I met this one and decided to leave.”

You knew he was just trying to salvage the mission, but you couldn’t help the flutter in your chest.

Edine’s critical eye turned to you, taking you in to see if you were good enough for my son. “Well, Hen, I hope you’re taking care of him.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you nodded.

“Well, why’d you come back here?” Abhainn asked.

“For work,” Obi-Wan explained.

“I see,” his father nodded. “And where are you staying?”

“Probably in a hotel,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“Nonsense, a sheòid!” Edine said. 

“She’s right,” Abhainn said, puffing up slightly, “You are the son of Clan Chief Abhainn of Clan Kenobi. No son of mine will stay in a hotel when he can stay in his ancestral home.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head in concession, “Of course. We would be honored.”

“Edine, take them home. Tell the cook to prepare a feast. I’ll be home shortly as soon as I conclude business here in town,” Abhainn said, giving Edine a kiss on the cheek.

Edine beamed at the two of you before leading you back home. She pointed out all the important spots of town, trying to cram in 36 years of history into a 30 minute walk. It was important to her, you could see, that Obi-Wan knew that they never stopped thinking about him.

Soon enough, you found yourselves in an old stone castle. Your face was full of awe and wonderment at the idea that Obi-Wan Kenobi, your Obi-Wan, could have grown up in a place like this. Yet, the look was not matched. As you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, all you saw was embarrassment at being the center of attention and affection. Part of you wanted to laugh. The most dramatic man in the galaxy was embarrassed by his mother. Some things truly were universal. 

“Edine,” he murmured eventually. “We’ve had a long trip. Would you mind if we went to our rooms to rest before the festivities?”

“Of course,” Edine said, but you could see her deflate slightly at the rebuff. She showed you to a large room upstairs, “Here you go.”

“There’s only one bed,” Obi-Wan commented.

“Well, you’re married. I didn’t think it would be a problem,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“It’s not,” you replied. “It’s just been a while since we’ve had such nice lodgings. The ships we’ve been staying on have only offered pods or beds only large enough for one person. It’ll be nice to share a bed again. Thank you, Edine.”

“You’re welcome, Hen,” Edine said before leaving the two of you alone.

Obi-Wan laid on the bed and let out a long sigh. “Well, this is a mess.”

“On the contrary,” you replied, “I think this could work towards our advantage.”

“We’re trying to be stealthy, and yet we’ve attracted so much attention,” he groaned. “How is this ideal?”

“Well, we can get information from your family. Force, you could even use their connections to get you a better job that could garner more information than we could ever gain by working in the fields,” you said, sitting next to him.

“It just... feels wrong,” he murmured, turning to look at you. “We’re taking advantage of a woman’s kindness when I don’t even see her as my mother. The Order was my home. As incredible as Abhainn is, Qui-Gon was the closest thing to a father figure that I had.”

You swallowed, placing a hand on his. “What are the odds of meeting your biological parents, Obi-Wan? Perhaps this was the will of the force.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. Well, you should rest. I’m going to get ready for this feast and call back to Coruscant to let them know the latest developments.”

“Alright,” you replied, brow furrowing in concern. You crawled into bed to take a nap to counteract the lag you were experiencing from traveling.

When you woke hours later, you spotted a handsome auburn haired man in a kilt and a flowing white shirt. It took you a moment to realize it was Master Kenobi.

“Did you transform into a highlander while I was asleep?” you teased as you sat up.

“When on a planet, make like the natives,” he shrugged. “Here’s an outfit for you, too.”

You eyed the tartan garments wearily. It had been a while since you wore anything other than your robes, but you knew that Obi-Wan was right. If you were to succeed at this mission, you would have to blend in to the best of your ability. People were more likely to trust those who seemed like them. Turning your back to him, you undressed and changed into the clothes left for you. 

“Well, how do I look?” you asked, raising a brow at him.

“I...” he trailed off as a blush tinged his cheeks, momentarily speechless. He quickly cleared his throat and recovered, “Like a true clanswoman. Now, let’s head to this feast.”

He offered you his arm and you hooked into his, walking with him down the stairs to find a party already roaring in the hall. 

Everywhere you went, people clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder and welcomed him home. He gave them awkward nods and smiles, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention and affection. You couldn’t blame him. Everyone in the temple was quite withdrawn. You were lucky to have a slightly affectionate Master as a padawan, so you didn’t wither under the critical gaze of his family. Quite the opposite, really. You were thriving. You commanded the room with a sense of belonging. No one batted an eye at you as you made your rounds, learning names and stories to see who was best to help you and Obi-Wan in your mission.

Eventually, you found yourself talking to a cousin of Obi-Wan’s, Hamish.

“Someone as well-traveled as he is shouldn’t be working in the fields,” Hamish commented.

“I agree,” you smirked. “You haven’t seen him with my garden. He’s sent more of my plants to the force than I would have liked.”

“He should work with me,” Hamish nodded. 

“And where do you work?” you asked curiously.

“I work with the planetary government,” Hamish said proudly.

“I thought Stewjon was run by the clans.”

“Oh, it is, lass, but that doesn’t mean that there is no need for a governmental body. It’s part of how we keep the clans in check and keep trade open. Lately, a few of the clans have been underperforming in their exports. We’ve had to resort to opening up a dialogue with our neighbors. However, not all of them speak Basic,” Hamish said, leaning in. “We’re in need of a translator.”

You caught Obi-Wan’s eye from across the room and smiled, feeling your face heat up slightly. “I think he’d be perfect for that.”

“Great, I’ll bring him with me in the morning,” Hamish grinned. “He’s lucky to have a strong lass like you behind him.”

You chuckled, thinking of all the times you’d supported each other over the years. “Trust me, Hamish. I’m the lucky one.”

With a knowing smile, you continued your turn around the room until the party started to die down. Then, you carefully excused yourself to go back up to your room and sleep. 

When you woke the next morning, Obi-Wan was gone. He left you a note saying that he had gone to work with Hamish and that he would be talking to you about that later. In the meantime, you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.

The lazy morning light streaked across your bed, casting you in a warm glow. You stretched slightly before getting yourself ready for the day. 

Once downstairs, you heard screaming and squealing. Your training kicked in immediately and you found yourself running towards the sound.

It was not what you had expected. There were children running and playing games in the field. Their squeals of laughter were infectious and you caught a tired Edine trailing behind them to keep an eye on them as she bounced a baby on her hip.

“Ah, good. You’re up, Hen,” Edine smiled as she spotted you. “I was worried you’d be down for the count after last night’s feast.”

“I can keep up, if that’s what you were wondering,” you smiled as you fell in step with her. Your eyes fell to the little girl in her arms. “Who’s this beauty?”

“Ah, this wee one is Greer,” Edine said, nuzzling her nose against the baby’s. “Technically, she’s your niece. Would you like to hold her?”

“Me?” you asked. A slight panic settled in your chest as she passed the babe into your arms. However, after the first initial wave of fear was banished, you found yourself thinking of all the times you’d babysat the chreche for Master Yoda. Back then, it had been out of duty. But now? Now this awakened something deep in you. As the baby looked up at you with her bright eyes, she smiled and grasped your finger tightly. Your eyes softened as you bonded.

“Hello, lassie,” you murmured. “You are so incredibly precious.”

Edine watched you closely, a smile forming on her face. “How long have you known Obi?”

“Years,” you admitted, playing with the baby to keep her from entangling her tiny fingers in the scarf you wore around your neck. As you rocked her, you listened to her coo and giggle.

“Would you ever want kids, Lass?” Edine asked.

You looked down at the girl in your arms, smiling softly at her. As a Master, you’d be responsible for a padawan. They would be like your own to guide. That would have to be enough for you. In another life, though... you let the thought die before it finished. “I would.”

Someone cleared their throat from behind you. 

You turned, slightly shocked to find Obi-Wan behind the two of you. He was looking at you differently, as if seeing you in a new light. You raised a brow at him.

Obi-Wan smiled and kissed your cheek, “I missed you, mo chridhe. Would you mind if I stole you?”

“Of course,” You swallowed, falling back into business mode. After all, you had a mission here. You couldn’t afford to have distractions. Gently, you passed Greer back to Edine and followed Obi-Wan back to the house.

“I think this is the perfect position for me to learn more about the missing resources,” he smiled.

“Good. How long do you think it will take?” you asked, genuinely curious. Your resolve was already cracking on day one. You weren’t quite sure how much longer it would last if you had to stay here.

“A few rotations. I’ve volunteered to look over their books. I’m hoping that will shine some light on things. I’ve already seen a few inconsistencies that I need to look into further.”

You nodded, “The sooner we can resolve this, the better.”

“Miss the Temple?” he asked teasingly.

“No, but I feel like I should be helping the war effort more, and instead I’m here on vacation. My men are currently reinforcing Skywalker in the outer rim. Part of me feels guilty for not being there,” you told him. It was a half-truth. 

“Well, I will do my best to learn more.”

“I have no doubt you will,” you replied, looking out the window. You let the conversation die off as you turned your mind back to your conversation with his mother.

A few days later he returned home from work early with good news. 

“I’ve done it, mo chridhe!” he grinned, picking you up and twirling you around. “I’ve got proof that the clans are not underperforming. Their missing exports are being rerouted to the Separatists.”

“The Separatists?” someone gasped behind the two of you.

Quickly turning, you came face-to-face with Edine.

“Mother, I-”

“I heard you come in and wanted to make sure you were alright because you were home early,” she murmured. “You mean to say that the clans are working against the Republic?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied, honestly, “The clans are not the ones rerouting the supplies. It’s the head of the Council.”

“But Hamish is the head of the Council,” Edine replied, “He’s always been a good lad.”

“Have you noticed anything different about him lately?” you asked.

“Well, he has been wearing finer clothes, but I thought he just had a good harvest,” Edine sighed.

“He’s been selling supplies from the clans who used to cause problems to the Separatists and pocketing the money,” Obi-Wan explained, “Then, he’s charging the underperforming clans more since Stewjon has to import due to their failures. I’m surprised no one has caught onto it.”

“He won’t get away with it,” Edine said firmly. “To jeopardize the honor of the clan is a grievous act. Abhainn won’t stand for it.”

“Mother, I don’t think you should involve him,” Obi-Wan said gently.

“Nonsense. This is clan business,” Edine replied. “Your father must know.”

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, turning to you with a look that suggested he wanted your help with this.

Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “If this is how things are done here, then this is how things are done.”

“See? The Hen knows. I’ll tell Abhainn as soon as he’s home and we’ll go from there,” Edine said before leaving the two of you alone.

Obi-Wan turned to you, “How could you let her do that?”

“We are peace keepers. That means advising, not taking over,” you replied, “If this is how things are done on Stewjon, then who are we to interrupt clan politics and customs?”

“But what if they get hurt?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.

“I’ll protect them.”

“And who will protect you?” 

“You say that as if it hasn’t always been you,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek. As you noticed his blush, you quickly amended your statement. “Is that not a husband’s job?”

“Right,” he said, hanging his head. “Of course.”

“Based on those standards, though, one could argue that we’ve been married for years,” you teased.

He smiled at the ground, taking your hand to give it a kiss across your knuckles, “I suppose they could, mo chridhe.”

Just then, Abhainn appeared in the doorway, a serious look on his face. His mouth was a hard line.

“So you’ve heard,” Obi-Wan sighed, dropping your hand.

“Aye, lad. Your Ma told me,” Abhainn nodded. “Come, we’ve got much to discuss.”

Obi-Wan nodded and the two of you followed him down into the great hall downstairs. Gathered there were a group of men from the clan, all ready to listen intently to the plan.

It was decided that Obi-Wan would go to work as normal the next day and make copies of all the evidence in case Hamish tried to destroy it. Then, a group of clansmen would sneak into the government complex through the servant’s entrance. From there, they would apprehend Hamish and retrieve him from the building to stand trial.

“But what of the other clans?” You asked when it was all settled.

Abhainn appraised you, surprised by your question, “We’ll sell off Hamish’s assets. The sale of those items will go towards paying back the clans he betrayed.”

You nodded, “And Hamish?”

“Clan law dictates that it is up to the victims to decide the punishment. I’ll be contacting the leaders tomorrow to inform them of the charges,” Abhainn explained.

The crowd started to disperse, leaving just you and Edine in the hall. You watched Obi-Wan and Abhainn walk towards the study to talk some more.

“He’ll never see him as his father,” Edine commented.

“What makes you say that?”

“He calls me ‘mother,’ but it is clear that he doesn’t view Abhainn as his father.”

You swallowed, knowing why that was the case. “When a Master takes a Padawan, it is essentially like an adoption. Although Obi-Wan’s Master died some time ago, the bond between Master and Apprentice is strong. In many ways, Qui-Gon was like a father to Obi-Wan. They went through a lot together.”

“I see,” Edine nodded, “Did he treat my boy well?”

You thought of all the times you’d seen the two of them frustrated with each other. Then, you remembered how Qui-Gon turned down a seat on the Council in order to stay with Obi-Wan. “He would have done anything for him.”

“As any father would,” Edine murmured. “I keep wondering what life would have been like if he had stayed, but then I remember that if you truly love someone, you must set them free to fly.”

“I’m glad to have met you,” you told her. 

“And I am glad to have met you, hen,” she grinned. “He’s lucky to have you.”

You felt your face grow hot as you went to leave, “No, it is truly the other way around.”

The next day, a pit of apprehension settled in your stomach. You were waiting in the corridor behind the building for Obi-Wan’s signal to enter. Behind you were a group of warriors, rustling in anticipation.

“Come on, Obi,” you murmured, growing restless yourself. 

As if he had heard you, your commlink beeped, signaling that it was time. Waving on the men behind you, you all quickly entered the building before they split off to block the exits leaving only you and Abhainn. 

“I’m surprised you tagged along, lass,” Abhainn muttered as you rounded a corner.

“I’m not defenseless,” you smirked, your hand settling on your lightsaber at your side.

“I had no doubt about that,” he grinned as the two of you came to a stop in front of Hamish’s office. 

You gave Abhainn a count of three before kicking down the door, your lightsaber igniting at your side.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hamish screeched as the two of you came into view. 

Obi-Wan ignited his own saber from his spot behind Hamish’s chair.

“You’re under arrest, lad,” Abhainn informed him, “For crimes against the clans.”

“Abhainn, I’ve done nothing against Clan Kenobi-” Hamish started to protest.

“A crime against another clan is a crime against the honor of Clan Kenobi,” Abhainn grit out. “You should be ashamed of yourself, lad. I know I am.”

“Abhainn, I can explain!”

“Explain it to the other clans at your trial,” Abhainn clipped, taking a pair of shackles out and handcuffing Hamish. 

The four of you made your way through the building and out front, meeting back up with your group of warriors. 

“Take him back to the clan,” Abhainn said, pushing him towards a duo who marched Hamish towards the road. Abhainn turned back to everyone else with a grin,  “I think this calls for a celebration.”

A cheer broke out among the men and you soon found yourselves swept up in a party in the great hall. The clan was quickly getting rowdy in their glee. You found Obi-Wan on the outskirts of the commotion and sidled up next to him.

“Not your cup of tea?” you asked with a smile.

“I’m just taking it all in,” he murmured.

“Thinking of what could have been?”

“In a way,” he admitted. “Although, as nice as they are, I know I’m on the right path.”

“How do you know that?” you asked with your brow furrowing.

His gaze settled on you and he smiled warmly, “Oh, I just know, mo chridhe.”

You tilted your head and turned back to the crowd, “We should get going. It’s a long way back to Coruscant.”

“We should change out of all this tartan first,” he said, looking down at his kilt. “Anakin would never let me live this down.”

You chuckled, following him back upstairs to change and pack your things before coming back to say goodbye.

A hush settled over the crowd as slowly the celebration came to a halt when they noticed that you were both back in your Jedi robes.

“We came to say goodbye,” Obi-Wan murmured.

“So, you’ll be going back to the Temple now?” Abhainn asked.

“How did you-” Obi-Wan started.

“The lightsabers gave it away, son. They’re only the weapon of a Jedi,” he smiled.

“It’s where you belong, a sheòid. You were meant for that path,” Edine said with a sad smile.  “Although, your acting was good. You had us fooled.”

You looked at Edine in a new light. A Jedi’s strength was in their resolve. You saw that same type of resolve now in Edine as she let her son go again for the second time in her life. It showed a strength of character that you weren’t sure even Master Yoda had.

“Well, we’ll walk you back to your ship,” Edine sniffed, holding her hand out to Obi-Wan.

He hesitated for a moment. You could see his feelings warring on his face as he contemplated taking it. She was his mother, and that was an unchangeable fact, but she was a stranger in many ways. Yet, he knew her heart. He smiled softly and took her hand, walking with her all the way back to the ship. Along the way, he pointed out the places she had told him about, reiterating her stories to show he had been paying attention. 

The ramp of the ship jutted out in front of you. The reality of the situation loomed over you both as you stood in the shadow of the vessel. 

Reluctantly, Edine let go of her son’s hand to give you a hug. “About what we talked about,” she murmured in your ear, “We have a saying here, ‘what’s for you won’t go past you.’”

“Where I come from we say, ‘if the force wills it, then so it will be,’” you replied as you pulled back.

“It’s the same sentiment, Hen,” she said, patting your cheek affectionately. “Safe travels.”

You smiled, walking up the ramp to give Obi-Wan a moment alone with his parents. As you passed into the ship, you caught a glimpse of them embracing. For once, Obi-Wan didn’t look uncomfortable.

Faintly, you could hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

“I know you were acting that you were farmers, but you can’t be acting about how you feel,” Abhainn said pointedly.

“Don’t let that go,” Edine pleaded.

Obi-Wan looked up at where you stood and smiled before turning back to his parents, “May the force be with you, always.”

The two of you made your way to the cockpit and initiated the flight sequence, moving as one. 

Soon, your ship was cruising through hyperspace, leaving a silence to settle over the two of you as you sat next to each other on a bunk.

“About the mission-” you started.

“We need to talk-” we need to talk he murmured.

You looked at each other and chuckled.

“You first,” he said.

“About the mission,” you murmured, “I have to be honest with you. I... wasn’t acting for a lot of it.”

Obi-Wan looked down at his lap, “Darling, we can’t. It goes against everything we were taught.”

“No it doesn’t,” you pleaded, taking his hand. “Obi-Wan, relationships are not frowned upon as long as you can let go of someone when the time comes. If all relationships were forbidden then we would all be solitary. Relationships are a form of support.”

He gazed up at you, stroking his thumb along the back of your hand, “That’s just the thing. I don’t know if I would be able to let go.”

Your eyes softened as he reached up to stroke your cheek. Leaning into his touch, you murmured, “But I’m not worth the Order.”

“You’re worth so much more than that,” he said seriously. “It’s just... there’s a war. We have our duties and our burdens to carry. I don’t want to add worrying about me to your list.”

“Obi-Wan, I’ve always worried about you,” you laughed. “That isn’t new.”

“If anyone found out...” he sighed.

“Last time I checked, you were better at keeping secrets than your Padawan,” you teased.

He smirked at you, wagging a finger, “He’s never been good at that.”

“Obi-Wan,” you murmured, leaning in slightly, “What does ‘mo chridhe’ mean?”

“Hmmm?” he asked, playing dumb.

“You kept calling me ‘mo chridhe’ while we were on Stewjon. What does it mean?” you pressed.

He blushed, running his hand through his hair, “It’s... it’s the native language for ‘my heart.’”

“I’m your heart?” you asked with a grin.

“You are,” he admitted softly, looking at you with eyes full of raw emotion. “You’re in the creases and the corners to the point where you overrun it and... and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You felt the air exit your lungs as you acted on instinct. In moments, your lips were pressed to his. His hand reached up to cup the nape of your neck as he kissed you back with equal passion, pressing you into the bed.

I love you.

He smiled against your lips before pulling back for air. 

You felt the unmistakeable feeling of the ship exiting hyperspace. 

“We’re home,” he murmured.

You nodded before pulling him back down for as many kisses as you could get in until you were pulled into the atmosphere. Only then did you allow yourself to quietly slip back into the mindset of a Jedi. Only then did you carefully tuck your happiness away to revisit later in the stillness of your chamber or on a desolate planet after a defeat. You would have time to dwell on it. Until then, you would be the perfect Jedi, fueled by the knowledge that you were in love, and loved in return.