#now she resists out of SPITE

[hel-phoenyx]

Baldur's Gate III is my ideal game for one main reason : How invested you can get in your own main character, while getting the option of personnalising them completely.

I love being so invested in my durge storyline than when Orin came by and told me she captured Gale, I could FEEL Raynee's unbridled rage and her sudden transformation from girlfailure who tries not to care about anything other than herself to ruthless companion-avenger

Now homegirl is ANGRY and has personal reasons to ruin all of daddys little plans (even though getting her and Orin to duel was one of his plans)

[umemiyan]

𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙉 𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙅𝙊𝘽.

𝗠𝗘𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗫 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / incest, stepcest (not specified for reader's role) / threesome / unprotected piv / reader with female anatomy and pronouns / toji calls reader ‘mama’ once / 1.6k words.

so. this was supposed to be a brief thought but i have once again gone overboard. i blame @kentohours for her glorious ability to spark my brain with her ask (and all the other lovely people in my inbox giving me inspiration today).

You’re sitting on your knees on the bed, face to face with Megumi while you're both stripped down to nothing but underwear, and there's a lump in his throat. You place a hand on his thigh when you lean in to kiss him, and it takes him a moment to rest a nervous, shaking hand of his own just above your knee. The kiss is tentative and has his heart racing a mile a minute, but he can smell the familiar scent of your shampoo and it puts him at just the slightest bit of ease.

Megumi almost forgets that Toji's standing off to the side with crossed arms and a look of scrutiny in his eyes, seemingly unimpressed thus far with the juvenile nature of the kiss—evenly-paced, chaste lip locking that slowly but surely has Megumi's cock hardening in his briefs. His hand moves just an inch further up your leg and squeezes to ground himself, while his father looks on with growing impatience.

Toji's streak of jealousy colors his voice with a harsh tone, his words covering up the fact that he'd prefer to be the one touching you right now. "Feel her up. She's not made of fuckin' paper."

Megumi's brow furrows as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and as much as he'd like to disobey his father out of pure spite, his need to explore you overrides everything else. He shuffles closer to you, moving his hand up to your waist and then just below your breast, feeling the swell of it graze over his fingers as you breathe.

You separate yourself from Megumi's lips and say a little breathlessly, "Toji, stop. It's his first time."

A brief wave of embarrassment washes over Megumi at the sound of your voice, but then you smile and give his thigh a reassuring squeeze. "You're doing a great job, baby."

That encouragement urges Megumi to reconnect your lips and swipe a thumb over your hardened nipple, feeling you sigh into the kiss at the careful touch. Toji huffs but silently takes note of how you respond to his son's brand of tenderness.

After what feels like eons of timid groping and testing the waters, Megumi finally has you underneath him, virgin cock leaking against your already dripping slit as he prepares to take the final step. He softly ruts between your folds with sweat on his brow, catching your clit with his tip and taking in shaky, focused breaths as he studies the familiar beauty of your face. his adoration for you consumes him, and he forgets that he’s being watched.

Toji reminds him.

"Jesus fuck, son—grow a pair and give it to her already," he berates, egging the younger man on with sharp words.

Megumi growls and resists the urge to slam into you, instead opting for a gentle push through your entrance until he's hilted and completely surrounded by your warmth. Once his arms stop trembling and he's almost certain he won't cum at the slightest movement, Megumi sets a pace with his hips and revels in the pleasure your heat provides.

Meanwhile, Toji sits back and leisurely strokes himself to the sight of you being stretched open by his own flesh and blood. He nearly takes pride in it, but it only tides him over for a while, because even though the sound of your sweet moans and praises are endearing, it’s been far too long for you to not have had an orgasm by now. Never mind that his son has no experience—Toji wants to see your toes curling, and he’ll be damned if Megumi doesn’t learn how to do it properly.

He's provided little instruction thus far, keen on appraising Megumi’s natural talents, but he anticipates having to intervene soon.

Toji moves to loom over the two of you and uses a large hand to take a fistful of Megumi’s hair, pulling the younger man’s head back to look up at him. "You gonna make her cum or what?” he says with a challenging look on his face. “Gonna give her what she needs, or do I have to step in and take care of my woman?"

“Toji—” you attempt to interject but are cut off—

“Shut up,” Megumi snarls, hips stuttering and face flushed from the exertion and humiliation of it all. 

Toji laughs at his son’s heated reaction and uses his strength to rip the boy away from you in an instant, flinging him off to the side before he can even try to fight back. Megumi’s blood boils as his spine hits the mattress in the space next to you and Toji’s taking his previous place with finesse, slipping your legs over his shoulders and putting you in a mating press with nothing less than practiced ease.

Megumi knows better than to take the risk of protesting, especially when Toji buries himself in you with one swift stroke, looks over at his son and says, “Start taking notes.”

Everything is a blur for you after that. Toji’s cock works you as well as it always does, splitting you open and sending pleasure down to the very tips of your toes. You’re unable to glance over and see how Megumi’s length twitches against the dark patch of hair on his belly at the sight of your sticky cunt being used, but Toji can see it—he makes a point to turn his head and flash a cocky smirk at his son as he rails into you.

Megumi fights the urge to touch himself while your arousal still glistens on his shaft, and although he resents Toji for stealing you from him, he can’t deny that watching you receive such pleasure is an incredible delicacy. It may be in a much harsher way than he himself had ever imagined being able to enact, but he is indeed taking pointers from Toji’s efficiency at making your eyes roll back.

After a couple of orgasms wrack your system, your husband finally presses his pubes to your clit and floods you with his seed as deeply as he can manage. Toji pulls out with a satisfied groan once he’s finished and moves to leave you wide open again, casually gesturing for Megumi to assume his position and top you off after the demonstration.

“Pop quiz. Were you paying attention?”

Megumi wants to snap and toss out harsh words, but he’s too desperate to be buried within you again to the point where he says nothing, opting for ignoring the way his father’s cum gushes out of you and pushing his own cock back inside to shove it even deeper. He immediately sets a pace and uses his indignation to drive him forward and please you, but not in the same way that Toji had—no, he’ll lick your neck and work your favorite spots in his own way, coaxing the pleasure from you with reverence and hailing you for letting him.

Toji’s admittedly a little shocked by how Megumi’s technique has already improved, albeit being quite different from his own. The younger man is still pulling those same pleased moans from your lips as he strokes your insides with filthy wet sounds, but it somehow doesn’t detract from the air of devotion that lingers between the two of you. Megumi even kneads your breast and does his best to roll your clit beneath his thumb a few times—anything to try and bring you the same ecstasy his father had.

“I wanna make you cum,” Megumi softly proclaims with a desperate voice in your ear. He needs it just as badly as you do.

“Fuck—you’ve got it. Just keep doing it like that, baby,” you reply, feeling the heat in your core build with each passing second. Megumi continues his rhythm without faltering, lest he ruin this opportunity to please you, and the nudging of his pelvis against your clit with each deep stroke has your head beginning to spin.

“Yeah, yeah… such a good job, pretty boy,” you praise him with breathless, hurried words, and the two of you are completely wrapped up in one another. Toji would be jealous if his cock weren’t already almost twitching back to life.

You’re nearly at the edge but Megumi is at his breaking point, balls tightening and promptly shooting his load out as you begin to constrict around him with need. However, he doesn’t stop his movements, pushing himself to keep fucking you despite the overwhelming desire to freeze as the pleasure takes hold of him. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much longer for you to topple over as well, milking him with the flutters of your used cunt and gifting him with the pride of having been able to please you.

Megumi takes refuge against your neck, huffing and panting as both your bodies recover from their respective highs. You’re overflowing with the seed of both father and son, the mixture trickling from your hole and onto the bed sheets before Megumi can even pull out and lay next to you. Once he does, however, Toji approaches again and captures your lips in a celebratory kiss.

“Well done, mama.” he grins and traces along your sloppy folds with a curious hand, causing your breath to hitch and body to jolt at the overstimulation. Toji then slides two fingers up your cunt and covers them with the mixture of everyone's cum before promptly removing them with a squelch. “Think we’ve got him off to the right start.”

Toji looks down at his exhausted son, filled with both pride and competitiveness at the results of this excursion, but he knows there’s so much more to be learned. 

He provides no warning before shoving his two digits into Megumi's mouth with a wicked grin, forcing him to taste the combination of the family’s pleasure on his tongue. And there's more where that came from.

"Ready to learn how to eat pussy?"

[eringobragh420]

💜 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 💜 Summary: Damian is betrayed at SummerSlam and he seeks revenge. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Hatefuck (this is a hatefuck, not just rough sex, the characters do not like each other), unprotected p in a, name-calling, spit/spitting, cum 18+ 💜 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! 💜 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend, @terrortwinunicorn. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 💜 Requested By: @miss-kuki-nz. Hope you enjoy!

Damian’s middle finger corkscrewed its way inside her, plunging in and out roughly, no regard for whether it was painful or pleasurable for the woman bent over the back of the plastic couch. The whimpers falling ruefully from her lips, the squeezing and clawing at the formidable couch cushions, they were all he needed to hear. Allowing her even just a hint of euphoria would have been counterintuitive to his mission.

“Shut up,” he hissed. He removed his finger from her tight little asshole, catching her sigh of relief in the air, and he slapped her ass, this time delighting in the wretched scream he ripped from her throat. He reached forward, shoving his index and middle fingers in front of her face, the latter of which had just been buried to the root inside her ass. “Spit,” he ordered.

“Fuck you,” she retorted.

Damian snatched a handful of her hair and hauled her head back. Her hands supporting her upper body nearly came off the couch. “No, fuck you. Traitor bitch.”

In spite of her situation and current position, she giggled softly, moving her head back a bit in an attempt to put some slack between her hair and his hand. He noticed, tightening his grip, and he knew it wouldn’t take much more power to start severing hair from scalp. 

“I’m the traitor?” she replied, breathless. “You chose Rhea over me, not the other way around.”

He leaned forward, nostrils flaring, and his teeth scraped the shell of her burning ear. “I said fucking spit.” And he tugged on her hair just a bit more.

She cried out this time, and he smirked, watching with blown pupils as her mouth worked to gather as much saliva as she could before she spit onto the two fingers he was offering. He brought them back around to her ass and slipped both inside a hole he’d never been in before and was desperate to fuck. He met resistance, a lot of it, and her hands reached for the edges of the cushions so she could pull away. He wrenched her head back, receiving another squeal. 

“What, does it hurt?” Damian taunted, forcing his fingers further inside. 

“Yes, it fucking hurts, you prick!” she hollered.

“Good,” Damian mumbled, watching with childlike wonder as his two thick fingers vanished within her hole. Her legs were fighting now—not kicking him, though she had several opportunities to cause significant damage to one of his knees with her boot—and the only real outcome was the pleasure and amazement he experienced as her ass tightened around him every time she struggled. He released her hair and she collapsed forward as he reached down to adjust himself in his blue jeans, finding the biggest lump he’d ever felt. He was going to teach this bitch a lesson once and for all.

“I’m gonna miss this,” he mused, fucking his fingers as far into her as possible, scissoring, before pulling out and doing it again. “I finally get this ass, and you gotta go off and do some dumb shit.”

“I did what I had to do,” she growled through clenched teeth. “Everybody is done living in Damian and Rhea’s shadow.”

“Fine,” Damian shrugged, shoving her down onto the cushions, skin slapping against the plastic. “No more shadows for you, felicidades.” He removed his fingers from her swollen hole. “And after tonight, no more dick.” He started work on his belt.

“Wait,” she stammered, eyes snapping shut. “That was only two fingers.”

“I guess you can add math to your resume since you probably won’t have a job very soon.” The buckle of his belt clinked as the pieces separated, he pulled the button through, and finally the zipper came down. Even he was impressed with the bulge bursting through the opened zipper.

“Go to hell, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. “And I’m fucking serious, Priest, that was only two fingers.”

“So?” Damian lasciviously asked. “I stretched you out.”

“Not enough!”

“And why is that?” he wanted to know, grinning from ear to ear.

“Priest …”

“Just tell me why.”

She huffed. “Because you’re fucking huge, okay? It’s not gonna fit, and you fucking know it.”

“Ohh, I see,” Damian said, then after a beat, “Well, I’ll just have to make it fit, won’t I?”

“Priest, listen …”

“Are you gonna apologize? Say you’re sorry?”

“Fuck no, I have nothing to be sorry for. You and Rhea—” Damian pressed the blunt, weeping head of his cock against her puckered hole. “No, okay, wait!” He stopped just before entering. “Just … one more finger …”

Damian rolled his eyes, shaking his head, and he planted his feet on the floor, her legs dangling between his and the back of the couch. She couldn’t even say she was sorry to prevent what was probably about to be a fairly brutal assault on her asshole. She could leave anytime she wanted—anytime she wanted to speak the safe word—they both knew that, but she was still here, face down, ass up, silently begging for the punishment she deserved. Begging for one last ultra fuck before they inevitably went their separate ways. 

“Just say you’re sorry, and this’ll all be over,” he breathed, unsure if he could stand by that statement for much longer. He grabbed handfuls of her ass cheeks and pulled them apart, staring at not only the forbidden fruit that was her asshole, but the perfect, dripping pussy just below. Fuck, he was gonna miss that cunt, so hot, wet, so tight. He’d come inside her so many times he was sure her inner walls were permanently white. He’d never been so sexually compatible with someone he’d utterly detested since Jump Street, and if history was any indication, she didn’t care for him much further than the mind-blowing orgasms he’d given her.

“Fine!” she said. “Fine …” Damian paused, brows knitted together, and he looked at the back of her head and then at the head of his desk pressed against that pretty hole, and Jesus fuck, would he be able to stop if she did speak the safe word? “I’m sorry,” she quietly said. Damian’s stomach dropped to the floor and his heart was beating so fast it felt like one long continuous beat. ”Sorry I didn’t fuck you over sooner.” And she cackled. The bitch cackled, and Damian’s vision went from a lustful haze to a bloody red, and his lips pulled back from his teeth.

He pressed the head of his cock against her hole again, this time pushing past the resistant ring of muscle, stretching her asshole more than it was intended, and she screamed, a primal roar from deep in her diaphragm, and Damian didn’t care if anyone heard them or if they complained. Security could be called and demand he open the door, which he would refuse, and then they’d unlock the door themselves and enter to find a desperate WWE superstar taking it up the ass like she owed him something. Hell, they might even watch. His cock twitched inside her, and her body spasmed.

“I fucking hate you,” she sobbed, ass clenching around him as he continued his journey. “I’m so happy you lost the title. Gunther looks so much better wearing it than you do.”

Damian winced, scowling, and he grabbed her hips, stuffing his dick so far in her ass he felt heaven. She screamed, clawing at the cushions, kicking her legs. Damian fought to capture her hands, crushing her wrists within his grasp, and he pulled, straightening her arms behind her and bowing her spine enough to hear a bone pop.

“I’m gonna rip your fucking ass apart,” he threatened, thrusting in and out now, groaning between words as that tight muscle did everything it could to remove the foreign object from its passage. “I’m gonna ruin your ass for any other man just like I did that pussy.”

Her struggling was becoming less and less, and Damian wondered if it was from exhaustion, pain, or pleasure. Because while this was the best his cock had ever felt and he would likely, embarrassingly, unload inside her in not but a few minutes, he didn’t want her getting any satisfaction from the situation. He wanted her to hurt so she would always remember what she did to him, what she did to them.

“Good,” she replied, glancing at him over her shoulder. Damian intrinsically met her gaze, promptly regretting it because he would miss the beautiful shade of her eyes, the coquettish way she smiled at him, much like she was doing now, and this wasn’t going how he’d planned. “But you’re still gonna be a loser,” she crooned, tilting her head this way and that.

Damian’s vermillion vision now became tunneled. He yanked his cock from her asshole, the head stuck in her tight ring for just a moment, her body squirming as she whined until he was able to work it loose. He relinquished her wrists so he could take another handful of her hair, and he guided her to the bed, shoving her onto the mattress. She laughed into the sheets, landing on her elbows and knees, and Damian thought he might throttle her, but he held back. He could do much more damage in her asshole.

“Get on your back,” he commanded. When she didn’t listen, he tossed her into the position he desired, flinging her legs apart and pressing her thighs into her chest, bringing her ass off the bed. “I want you to watch while I split you in half.”

“Hit me with your best shot, big guy,” she taunted, but he saw her eyes before she closed them, feigning ecstasy. He saw the trepidation there—unfortunately, there wasn’t quite enough of it to satisfy him.

He lined his fat cock up with her puffy hole, still holding her thighs, and he pressed in slowly just to be sure he was completely inside before he drove his hips forward, shoving everything he had within her, and she cried out, reaching back to flatten her hands against the headboard. He’d torn her shirt earlier when he’d snatched her from the hallway and drug her into his hotel room, so he grabbed the ends and ripped it open, revealing his favorite set of tits, both in real life and in porn. She never wore a bra, and he knew it was because she wanted men to look at her and get flustered, or maybe slapped by their wives. Fuck, Damian hated this girl. So why did she have to have the most perfect breasts? Why was her pussy the tightest and the wettest and the fucking prettiest? And why, God, why did her asshole have to be just a few sizes too small for his dick, which, in his opinion, made it the ideal size.

“This what you wanted?” he panted, fucking her ass unreservedly, pressing almost his full weight on her thighs and hips. “Your disloyal ass filled with my cum?”

“I wanted you to lose the match,” she heaved with each thrust. “My ass filled with cum is just a bonus.”

“Stupid slut,” Damian chided. He wrapped one huge hand around her throat and lifted her head and shoulders off the bed. “Open your mouth.”

Lost in the moment, or eager to get this over with, she obeyed, dropping her jaw, even letting her tongue fall out. Or was she trying to best him at his own game? Shoving the question to the back of his mind, he amassed a mouthful of saliva, a feat easily achieved by thinking about how juicy her pussy was even though it hadn’t been touched once since this entire ordeal had begun, and he brought her closer to him before spitting in her waiting mouth. He released her throat so he could lift her jaw and close her mouth to keep his wad of spit exactly where he left it, dropping his forehead to hers as his straining cock fucked her out.

“You know we’re done after this, right?” he respired. She was only able to nod, and he hadn’t felt her swallow yet. She was still tasting his saliva on her tongue, and his dick twitched deep in her asshole. “And I can’t fucking wait to be rid of you.”

She grabbed his hand and moved it from her mouth, placing it on a bouncing breast. He released her other leg, and she wrapped them both around the backs of his thighs. “You’re gonna miss this pussy,” she whispered, “and now you’re gonna miss my ass. Aren’t you?” To emphasize her inquiry, she used the headboard and the grip on his legs to  start bouncing her ass on his cock.

“Ah, fuck,” Damian sighed, eyes closing, letting her impale her own asshole with his turgid dick.

“I helped cost you the title tonight and your cock is still buried inside me,” she continued taunting, rolling her hips in circles, giving his cock the opportunity to experience every inch of a hole he’d never be inside again. “Because you’re pathetic, Priest.”

He pulled his cock out of her ass with a slight sucking sound, and roughly rolled her onto her front. He kept her thighs together as he mounted her, spreading her ass cheeks so he could see exactly where to plunge his rigid member. Once completely inside, he felt her knees bend and feet kick, and he jammed her face into the bed with a meaty forearm as he rode her into oblivion. She groaned, though it was difficult to tell if it was from pain or pleasure, so he fucked harder, and that’s when he saw a tear growing in the corner of her eye. Somehow, somewhere, he found it within him to slam his hips into her with even more gusto. 

“Who’s pathetic now?” he bit, moving his forearm so he could spit on her cheek. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out to catch it as it rolled down her cheek. “Fuck!” he yelled. He pulled out of her ass and climbed her body quickly, jerking his cock over her face until he came all over her cheek, nose, forehead, and still extended tongue. “You may have cost me the title,” he started, slapping her face with his softening cock, “but I’m not the one with a fucked out asshole.” He stood from the bed, tucked himself away, zipped, buttoned, started working on his belt. She rolled onto her side, wiping cum from her eye. He leaned his fists on the mattress. “And I’m not the one wearing some loser’s cum on my face.” He winked at her before pushing off the bed and heading for the door. “See ya around.”

“Not if I see you first,” she called after him. 

Damian smirked, closing the door behind him.

🎀 Felicidades - Congratulations

[spirit-lanterns]

ALMOST CAUGHT!

synopsis: almost getting caught in the act

featuring: kafka, serval, himeko, natasha

rating: 18+ ns.fw (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab female reader, semi-public s.ex, almost getting caught, f.ingering, dirty talk, strap ons, vibr.ators, scissor.ing, marking, indecency at the workplace, some swearing.

art credits: bad thinking diary

KAFKA

“One more baby, just one more okay?”

Kafka groans into your ear as she speeds up her thrusts, a shallow smirk curling on her lips as she presses you deeper against the cold closet walls. “Come on baby girl I know you can give me another…”

You resisted the urge to hook your leg over Kafka’s arm and really stretch yourself out for her. Her strap spearing you through as she plunged the thick toy in as deep as you could take. 

“Kafka…Kafka…” your eyes lolled back in drunken pleasure when she moved to hook your leg over for you, keeping you spread even wider while you took her cock an extra inch or two from before. “W-Wait—!” You bit your lip as she kissed your neck passionately, a gloved hand pinning your face to the wall while she went to town on you. “Yes my darling? Is it deep enough for you?”

She chuckled darkly at your sex-drunk expression and cupped your face so you could only look at her. “Awe, is it too much for my baby?” She fake pouts.

“No…it’s just—” you groaned as the tip of her cock rubbed perfectly against a particularly sensitive area, “We’ve been in here for a long time. Surely it’s kind of suspicious by now…”

Kafka didn’t seem to care and just kept thrusting up into you. “And…?” She murmured huskily into your ear. “Do you want me to stop…?” She smiled and pressed feather light kisses against your jaw, starting to speed up her movements. 

“Oh…fuck.” You grit your teeth and let her bounce you up in her arms, some precum sliding down the plastic shaft. “You asked for one more, well I’m close enough to just—” 

“Where did Kafka go?” 

You both froze at the sound of Blade right outside the door, a set of footsteps behind him that sounded like Silver Wolf’s.  

Shit. They were right outside. 

“No idea. I don’t see her girlfriend anywhere either.” 

A snap of Silver Wolf’s bubblegum just confirmed your suspicions. Both of them were right outside, unknowing that Kafka was currently 6 inches of plastic dick inside you in the closet behind them. 

“…Seems like we have company.” Kafka whispered darkly, starting to move her hips again and reveling in the sadistic pleasure she got from seeing you whimper. “But my baby girl can keep quiet, I’m sure she can…”

You wanted to be mad at her, teasing you like this when Blade and Silver were right outside... But you couldn’t. Not when Kafka was fucking you so well and deep. “You’re so annoying…” you grumbled, fleshy walls gripping her cock for sweet release. Your girlfriend only chuckled, leaning in to press her lips against yours. 

“I am, aren't I…?”

And as if to spite you, she thrusted up sharply, hands grasping your ass as she held you in place for another round. 

SERVAL

“Couldn’t wait until we got home, huh?”

Serval laughed quietly, bending you over the bed with a vibrator pressed to your clit. “So naughty…”

“H-Hey, you packed it for a reas— oh… fuck—” She turned the settings up and chuckled at the way you trembled, almost as if she were enjoying this in a weird, sadistic way. “Well, I packed it just in case for a reason. Just in case we…Y’know…” she giggled at your astounded face and raised the settings higher. “…And here we are!”

What started as an overnight trip to the Landau family residence turned into a pre-dinner sex session after you found the secret vibrator in your girlfriend’s suitcase. You didn’t think Serval would even fathom the thought of screwing you in her old childhood home, yet here we are…

“You’re so bad…” You giggled, riding on the vibrator’s pleasant buzz. “You really wanted to do this in your childhood bedroom, hm?”

“Hey, it’s hot.” Serval grinned and leaned over to kiss you. “Seeing you sprawled out on my sheets like this turns me on so much…”

She inches closer to push the vibrator deeper against your folds, moving forward to kiss you sweetly and slide her tongue in to claim it all as hers. She was so distracting, she was so dominating. You couldn’t focus on anything else at all, as all you could think about was Serval, Serval, Serval… 

You were so distracted in fact, that the two of you forgot that you were doing this before dinner time. The sounds of Gepard’s feet in the hallway not registering, as the both of you were lost in a passionate dream full of lust. “Sister? It’s almost dinner time.” Gepard called from the other side of the door. “What’s that noise? What are you doing?” 

You gasped at this intrusion and Serval only groaned in displeasure, turning down the settings of the vibrator so that the buzzing noise would stop. “Nothing, just tuning one of my instruments…” she winked at you playfully. “I’ll be out in a minute. Girlfriend is here too, say hey, love.”

“…Hey.”

You tried your best to sound composed and not like you were getting your brains fucked out. Serval covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing as Gepard stood silently in the hall.

“Oh. Okay then, have fun. Just be sure to wash up before dinner.”

“Oh, we will.” 

And as Gepard’s footsteps thudded heavily away from Serval’s door, you whimpered when she turned up the vibrator again to the highest setting. 

“You heard him, princess. Best have fun, then we can wash up later…”

HIMEKO

“Almost there…just a little more, my love…”

Himeko grunts and pushes her cunt further against your own, slapping your hips together as she raises your leg a bit higher over her shoulder. A slick, sticky webbing of precum joining your pussies together as you mesh and scissor in the bask of lustful passion. 

“Himeko…” you murmured, all covered in the woman’s red lipstick that trailed down from your face, your neck, your breasts, your…

“Love,” Himeko smiled back and pressed another red kiss to your thigh. “You look so beautiful…”

Another red mark. Red, red, red. It was all Himeko… all her…

You wanted to be beneath her forever. Legs in the air while the bed below you rocked with each grind of Himeko’s hips. Your cunt was all puffy and sensitive from the constant stimulation, and you had to reach down to grasp her thighs. “I’m close…please Himeko please…”

Your pleading little eyes almost drove her insane. The woman gasped and gripped your hips tightly to drag your hips over her own, craving your warmth, your lust, your body. Riding you as if this would be the last sex she’d ever have…

“Go on…” she whispers, bed creaking with every thrust. “Grind on me.”

Throwing your head back on the pillow, you took the lead and ground your cunt feverishly against hers. Despite being in the bottom position, you had the control now as you bucked your hips up until you felt Himeko get wetter. Thighs getting stickier as you sped up your movements and caused Himeko to moan. 

“Aeons…you’re so…” Himeko grabbed the flesh of your thigh and tried her best to contain herself. “So…”

“Gah! What’s that noise?”

You both froze at the sound of…Pom-Pom outside your door! Ceasing your movements to stop the bed from creaking, you and Himeko shut your mouths to keep from moaning…

The conductor sounded quite afraid, as Himeko’s little moan had caused the rabbit to think the train was being haunted. “Aweeee not again! Don’t tell me there’s a new, unwanted passenger onboard…” You could feel Himeko’s frustration through her hand, squeezing your thigh with impatience while she resisted the urge to groan.

“…I better talk to Welt about this. Scary…”

Himeko grit her teeth and couldn’t take it anymore, moving her head to the side and biting your thigh to shush herself while grinding against your hips. At the pain of her teeth, you jolted and creamed against her cunt, the release prompting Himeko to cum too as well. 

“Oh, Aeons, finally…” as Pom-Pom’s little feet wobbled away from your room, you could feel Himeko sigh with relief and squirt all over your thighs. “You honestly feel too good to be true…”

NATASHA

“Don’t be shy, not like I haven’t seen it before…”

Natasha cooes sweetly and cups your face with a gloved hand, her gentle nature completely juxtaposing what she was doing down below, as her other hand was busy ravaging your insides with a discarded latex glove on the floor. 

Her latex glove.

“Natasha, we’re gonna get caught…” you held in a whimper and eyed the door to her office with worry. “Did we really have to do this here…?”

“Forgive me, sweetie,” Natasha whispers, breath tickling your ear and sending shivers down your spine, “I couldn’t wait. It’s after hours right now, hours meant for you and me…” She pressed a soft kiss to your ear and licked the shell of it sensually, chuckling at your adorable reactions before kissing along your jaw. “You’re so cute…”

Scissoring you apart with her middle and ring finger, she parted your walls with a continuous intrusion that left you spreading yourself almost instinctively. Her fingers like the key to your lock as she thrusts into you with her extensive medical knowledge on female anatomy.

“Feeling good?” She murmurs quietly against your ear, going deeper than ever before and prodding at your spongy walls. “It should, you’re a patient I want to feel extra good…”

You could just cum right there. Gripping onto your girlfriend’s shoulders as you parted your legs wider to allow more space to move. “You always feel good…” you sigh, basking in pleasure while she rocks you in her arms. Natasha giggled, leaning back to deliver sweet kisses to your nose and lips. “I figured…”

Sliding her palm up so it brushed your clit, she laid her head against your shoulder to rest while continuing to fuck you gently. Sighing at the beautiful moans you let out, the doctor truly was having a plentiful rest…

“You’re twitching…” Natasha murmurs, slowly speeding up her thrusts, “Almost there, sweetie?”

“Yeah…yeah I am…” you groaned and clung onto the doctor’s back, arching yours while she pounds brutally inside of you. “Keep going Nat, right there…right there…” You gasped. 

Almost there…right there…

“Heyyy Natasha!”

The sudden knocking and shout of Sampo caused the two of you to stumble and twitch, your body falling slump against Natasha’s front out of embarrassment and shock. 

Natasha was stunned as well, fingers still knuckles deep inside you as she glanced at the door to her office, where she could see Sampo’s silhouette through the blinds of the window. “Helloooo? You in there Nat?”  

You could see her face go from worry to slight frustration as she sighed and called out to the man. “Yes, Sampo? What do you need?” She seemed slightly annoyed, but you couldn’t tell if it was because she was interrupted, or because it was Sampo of all people…

“I’m a little busy right now…” Natasha sighed.

“Ah, alright! Just wanted to stop by and say hey…” Was that really it?! Natasha shook her head before smiling playfully at you, Sampo’s footsteps gradually fading away and finally leaving you alone. 

“Sorry about that, dear. I know you were so close…” You gave her a sympathetic kiss.

“It’s alright. Sampo was just being friendly.”

“I suppose, but I just feel so bad, my baby didn’t get to cum like she wanted…” Natasha’s still fingers suddenly slid out and thrusted back into you, this time with a third finger stretching you out. 

“Oh—!”

“Which is why I’ll make sure my girl gets even more special treatment from me…”

[onskepa]

hiii!! i’m new to this whole request thingy :/ but i was wondering if you could make a fic about aonung with a runaway bride basically something about him being in love with a girl who isn’t inlove with him so she runs away to avoid being with him BUTTTT he finds her a couple years later mated to neteyam!! you don’t have to do it it was just a thought thank you!!!>.<

ooooooooooooh okie Im gonna love doing this one! Sit back and enjoy~!!

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Tilayro

It is now or never. She can't handle another day for as long as he is around. Quickly and silently tilayro packs only the basics that she needs. Making sure she doesn't alert anyone in her home. She hopes that one day, her family will forgive for what she was about to do. May Eywa forgive her. 

Guilt threatens to rise up at the back of her throat, tilayro quickly shakes her head, no, now is not the time to doubt or have second thoughts. She will never have another chance like now. 

Making sure she has everything, taking one last look at her home, tilayro leaves. Running down the beach to where her skimwing is, quickly connecting with her dear friend, tilayro leaves. Making the daring move to leave the borders. Leaving her home and all that she ever knew. But this had to be done. Tilayro would rather do anything else than be forced to mate with a man who will never see her as she is. 

Neteyam slowly wakes up, letting his eyes adjust to the light in his home. Letting out a yawn, he gets up silently, as much as he could. His arm was tugged by his beloved mate who still sleeps soundly beside him. It truly never gets old, waking up and the first thing he sees is the love of his life. How did neteyam get so lucky? He thanks Eywa every day for having his beloved by his side. 

“Mmnn…stay…” he hears her whisper, reaching out to grab his other arm. 

Neteyam chuckles, how can he resist her? 

He lays down once again as she gets closer to his warmth. Taking in her scent, neteyam lets himself be wrapped around with her arms. Its still early. He can attend his duties a little later. 

Tonowari and his family along with a few clan members were getting ready for their long trip to the forest. Tsireya was pretty excited to meet a whole different clan and explore areas she never thought she would see. Ronal kept neutral of it, but tonowari can tell she looks forward to it. Ao’nung seems to rather stay and leave. 

“Why must I go? It has nothing to do with me” ao’nung complains for the hundredth time. Tonowari sighs for the hundredth time that day. 

“It has everything to do with you. You are the clan's future olo’eyktan, as well as tsireya being the future tsahik, so you have no option but to come as well” tonowari explains. Ao’nung just sighs and packs whatever he needs to pack. 

“No option, it seemed she did,” he muttered. 

Tonowari quickly turned to face his son again, “ao’nung, I know it still bothers you but its been 2 years now, your mother will look for a better match for you” 

“Better match, there will be no other like her and she is gone, a coward she was” ao’nung said with spite and hate in his voice. 

He still hasnt gotten over it. Still hurt from what the girl did. Tonowari understands his son. 

His betrothed ran away before they were able to be one. 

“Thats it, keep moving your legs to stay afloat. Tuk dont stop moving your arms” tilayro was swimming at a remote lake with some small na’vi children. Teaching them the basics of swimming, along with tuk who is her best student in the group. 

Seeing the position of the sun, it was time to end the lessons. 

“Alright everyone, lets get you all to the edge, come on come on” she tells while gently guiding them back on land. She makes sure they are all dry and drops them off to their families when they reach the village. Tilayro likes teaching the children how to swim, its part of her since birth. 

“Til!” tuk jumps up and down as she holds her hand making their way to the sully home. 

“Are you excited?? Aren't you arent you?” tuk asks rather excitedly. 

Tilayro giggles, “yes Im excited, its not everyday we meet a whole new clan” 

Weeks back Jake and mo’at announced they will be expanding their alliances to other regions of pandora. One of the first clans they managed to get in touch with is a reef clan. Its specific name has not reached tilayro’s ears yet but was given the position to assist when the clan arrives. Teach them how to adjust in the forest climate and environment. 

“Maybe you will see your family again?” tuk asks, imagining seeing more of tilayro’s people. 

“Who knows?” she responded, but secretly, she wishes she would never see anyone from the metkayina clan ever again.

Few days have passed and everyone in the clan prepares to welcome the coming clan that will hopefully be a new ally to the omatikaya. 

Neteyam, being stressed out of his mind, is forgetting things all over their home. 

“The feathers, where are they??” he mutters to himself. 

“Right here my love” tilayro giggles lightly as she places the elegant feathers in his braided hair. She makes sure he looks presentable, first impressions are everything. Checking every detail is good and perfect. Her love is perfect. Truly embodied that of a warrior. 

“Don't be so nervous ma’nete, everything will be alright. If eywa allows it, all will be well” she says to comfort neteyam. He sighs deeply, bringing her hands up to his face. Her teal blue skin met his dark blue. A stark contrast in shades but when together, they blend beautifully. 

Neteyam stays silent, just feeling her hands bring great relief. 

He moves a bit to wrap his arms around her, holding her tight. Stroking her hair, smelling more of her natural salty sea scent mixed with that of her favorite fruit, all his anxiety washes away. Only bliss and relief takes over his heart. 

“Please stay beside me, I need you there” he begs. 

Tilayro smiles, “of course, I will always be there for you” 

Calls echoed throughout the forest, alarms and signals were being given. The reef clan has arrived and are being guided towards the omatikaya village. Jake, Neytiri and mo’at were at the border to welcome the reef clan. 

Greeting each other, Tonowari smiles, feeling very privileged and honored to stand before the legend himself. His family greeting the same, all a bit nervous as they are clearly out of their comfort zone. 

“Toruk makto, it is a great honor to meet you” tonowari says. 

Jake pats him on the shoulder, “jake is fine, it is also an honor to meet you face to face” 

Pleasantries were said, ao’nung trying his best to look like an adult to his family and the olo’eyktan. 

Mo’at guided them into the village, many omatikaya were very welcoming and gave gifts to the reef na’vi. They all felt welcomed and easily enjoyed this whole new side of pandora they never seen. 

Ao’nung especially. 

The forest is beautiful, the village even more. Animals he has never seen or heard of were there right before his eyes. How the people behave and look, their style is so different. He was starting to enjoy it. Until he wasn't. 

“Hello, my name is neteyam. This is my mate, tilayro”

She promised she would be by neteyam’s side. Always. But at this moment, she wanted to run away and hide in the darkest cave the forest has. 

She has to be dreaming, this isnt real! 

Ao’nung was standing before her, being shocked as much as she was. 

“Your…mate…?” he asks very silently. 

Tilayro can feel her heart pounding against her chest, its drumming rhythm going against her ears. Sweat started to form from her forehead. She can pass out at any moment. 

“Yes, we have been together for 2 years now” 

OH how tilayor wishes for neteyam to stop talking right now. He is giving more fuel to ao’nung without even knowing. 

Even he seems to be confused by the sudden change of the boy in front of him. 

Until suddenly, ao’nung’s teal blue eyes stared straight into tilayro’s eyes. Feeling cold chills run down her spin. He is angry, very angry. Feeling his anger rise, she needed to say something, anything! 

“So this is where you have been this whole time…” was all he said before punches were being thrown.

A huge crowd was forming in the middle of the village, tonowari, ronal, mo’at, jake and neytiri had to stop what they were doing to see what was going on. 

To tonowari and ronal’s horror, they see their son ao’nung fighting with the olo’eyktans son, neteyam. 

“Hey hey hey!” jake called out. He and tonowari quickly get through the crowd and towards their own sons. Both of them were a bloody mess. Neytiri notices tilayro and tsireya crying in distress of what they witnessed. Kiri was there to comfort them both but neytiri still heads over to make sure they are ok. 

“What happened?!” tonowari demanded to know from ao’nung. 

His son had a bloody nose, scratches on his shoulders and a black eye forming already. But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as ao’nung was ready to pounce on neteyam again. 

Neteyam in return looked ready for round two until tilayro got in their way. 

“You!! You mated with him?!” ao’nung shouted, accusing her like she did a heinous act. 

Tilayro was shaking but stood her ground, protecting neteyam. 

“I did! We mated before Eywa! It is done and there is nothing you can do about it!” 

Ao’nung can only stare at her, as thought she betrayed him in the worst way possible. He couldn't form any more words once she said it. 

“Oh shit…” was what came out of kiri’s mouth, quickly piecing together what is happening. 

Jake, while still holding neteyam back, stared at neytiri who understood what he was feeling. 

[I'm getting a sense of major deja vu right now] he thought.

Within the massive tent that had the leaders inside including neteyam, ao’nung and tilayro inside, no one was happy with what occurred. It was a serious situation that could tear what little could be salvaged between the omatikaya and the metkayina. 

While tonowari is furious with his son, same with ronal, both were beyond shocked to see tilayro living among the forest na’vi. And mated no less. That in itself brought more confusion. 

“Start talking boy, I want a clear honest answer” jake demanded. He was in no mood for humor or light hearted jabs. Kid or not, someone threatened his son, and to an extension, his daughter in law. 

Ao’nung looked down at his hands, feeling shamed for what he did. Letting his emotions get to him, but just seeing tilayro brought a wave of new found anger he thought he could never with hold. 

“Forgive me sir, I let my mind be shrouded in emotions. I should have never beatin your son and cause a gap between our clans” ao’nung says. 

Jake was not satisfied. 

“Let me be more clear, I want an explanation, not an apology. Why did you attack me son?” 

Tonowari and ronal shared a look of concern, yes what their son did was horrible but they fear what punishment the olo’eyktan would do once ao’nung confesses. 

“Tilayro…” ao’nung begins to say. Remembering his short time with her back at his home. 

“When your son said tilayro is his mate, I lost all control. I grew mad, angry and jealous. I shouldn't, but I did. Not liking it, I punched your son out of my own selfishness. I am sorry. I will accept any punishment you will give me” 

Neytiri leaned forward a bit, “what is tilayro to you?” she asks.

“We were arranged to mate,” tilayro starts to say. 

She and neteyam were back at the comfort and safety of their home. She does her best to heal his wounds while making sure to not inflict anymore pain. 

“My family and his believed it would be good if I and ao’nung were to be together. He was already chosen to be the metkayina’s next olo’eyktan. He just needed a tsahik. I was unfortunately the one” 

Neteyam didn't speak, letting her say what happened 2 years ago. 

He remembers exactly the day he met her. She was lost, had no knowledge of the forest and was scared of everything. Tilayro clearly stood out for how her body was different from the forest na’vi. Wider arms and lets, a thicker tail. 

He remembers helping her adjust, remembers being close to her, remembers how he fell in love with the mysterious aquatic na’vi. 

“For how long were you arranged…” he asks softly. 

“Hmm…for a long while. I thought it would work. That I could be a good wife and a good tsahik to our clan. I was foolish. They had us spend more time together. In a way I was glad, because I was able to ao’nung’s true side” 

Neteyam observes his mate’s expressions closely, her eyes filled with sadness and her body movement slow and not really concentrated. 

“What was he like?” 

Just from beating the shit out of that fish boy, neteyam concluded that ao’nung currently is still a child who has no control of his emotions. Still holding some grudge and won't let go of things no matter how long ago it was. 

“Selfish. A brute, always wanting to be praised and having his ego stroked” tilayro lists as she rolls her eyes. 

Neteyam slightly smirked, “isn't that what you do with-” 

“I'm still talking” 

“Yes ma’am” 

“He always took me somewhere that mostly had his bunch of friends. Really I think those friends only hung around with ao’nung simply because he is tonowari’s son. He always showed off to me, to an extent its fine. But he did it way too much. And it was all about him, for him, to him. He never had a moment to spare for me. Never properly courted me. So I came to the conclusion that we aren't fit. I could not for the life of me spend my life with someone like him…so I….left” 

A tear fell from her face, “I left one night and never looked back. But I don't regret it. If I hadnlt left…I wouldn't have met you” 

Neteyam brought tilayro closer and gave her a loving kiss on her sweet lips. 

“Im glad you did. You are the best thing to ever happen to me and I think Eywa every day for that”  he says. 

They shared a few more kisses before he picked her up and spun her around. Laughter filled the air once more. 

A few days later the metkyaina packed their stuff to head back to their home. What happened tarnished what was supposed to changed their lives for the better. Ao’nung felt ashamed. He did throw the first punch. Now he must deal with the consequences. 

But seeing tilayro, even from a distance, is panged his heart. 

He wasnt good to her, he knows that now. But ao’nung secretly did care for tilayro. How he showed it wasnt the best. Look where it lead to now. But he couldnt leave without saying anything to her. It was no or never. 

“Where are you going?” ronal asks her son, seeing him make his way to neteyam and tilayro. She panics, thinking what worse can her son do. 

That omatikaya warriors were quick to stand in front of the couple, not letting aonung get close. 

“Please, I wish to say something. I promise to not cause anymore harm” he pleads. 

IT was a long minute before neteyam hesitantly agreed. 

Ao’nung slowly gets closer to the couple, he bows his head. 

“Im sorry for punching you. It was not my place to say terrible things and much less hurting you. I know I ruined everything and I will work on improving myself”  he says. 

Neteyam didnt say anything, only a mere hum. 

Then ao’nung turned to tilayro who was showing fear in her eyes. 

“Im sorry…for everything. I know I didn't do a lot to show I was good for you. That I hardly put any attention on you like you deserve…I did and still do care for you tilayro. Im sorry I never showed it until it was too late” 

Tilayro can feel the genuine honesty coming from him, he was messing with her. He was being truthful, which is something she thought she would never see from ao’nung. 

“Please, treat her well. Tilayro is a good person, too good even for me” 

Ao’nung and neteyam shake hands, “thank you” he spoke. 

One last looked was shared before ao’nung left to join his clan. Not looking back, ao’nung and the metkayina begin their journey back home. The omatikaya looked after them. 

Neteyam wraps his arm around tilayro, wanting to feel her skin touching his. 

“He is right, you are a good person my love. A good woman, a good mate. Even I must confess, I am glad he wasn't the one for you” 

Tilayro releases a light giggle, placing her head on his chest. 

“You will always be the one for me neteyam” 

Choosing what she wants and how she wants, tilayro knows that is the best feeling. Having the freedom to whom to love and be genuin. 

Aaaaaaand that was it for this one! I hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

---------

Tilayro = freedom

[senualothbrok]

Revelation

Gif by @dolceaspidenera

Summary: Gale shows Aurora she has nothing to hide. Sequel to Progress and Promise.

"Wreathed in morning light, sitting astride you, her every blemish and bulge is on display. She is exposed. Doubt disturbs her gaze.

You must banish it.

“I want to see you, Aurora.”

You take hold of her hand, swirling your tongue across the pads of her fingers. “All of you. Just like this.”"

AO3 link

Word count: 3.8k

Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Gale x female OC (Aurora). Aurora is in recovery from an eating disorder/body dysmorphia.

More disclaimers: Body worship. Hand and finger kink. Woman on top/cowgirl. Vaginal fingering.

-----

When she rustles beside you, your hand darts out by instinct. Buried in your bedsheets, you hear faint shouts from the docks outside, the morning call of seagulls circling overhead. Aurora has always been one to rise early, much to your chagrin. You prefer to cling to the comforts and luxuries of the night. You reach for her, groaning into your pillow.

“Early,” you manage, as your fingers dance across her hip. “Stay.”

She laughs, a huff of affection. As she retreats, you open a sleep-blurred eye. She is shuffling speedily into her slip, her auburn hair spilling over her shoulders. Strokes of golden light linger on the contours of her face. Even after all this time, your breath still catches at the sight of her, here and yours. The space she has left beside you is an ache, whirling with her scent of lavender and rain. The fragrance of home.

“Come back to bed, Aurora,” you rasp.

She smiles, amused, forbearing. You mourn the cascade of white silk over her curves. Never before have you hated a piece of flimsy, spiteful fabric as much as you do now. You could disintegrate it with a thought, were it not for Aurora’s wishes. You yearn for the constellations of freckles below her breasts and navel, trembling beneath your touch.

“I need to get to the market, Gale. I want to get you those pastries you like. And I need to get some paints and ink.”

You grizzle, shifting onto your back. After the discoveries of last night - a secret mole on the innermost curve of her thigh, a snug spot that made her body sing - you cannot think of anything less appealing than leaving this bedroom. Not for a thousand ancient tomes would you trade such reveries. Not even for signed first editions.

“All that can wait.” 

She is reaching for her robe, draped lazily on a chair beside your bed. Outside the paradise of your bedsheets, Aurora cannot bear to be naked. It saddens you, how difficult it still is for her, though your love burns in every caress of skin and tongue and soul. This goddess in all but name, the north star blazing in your blue-green sky. In your haze, it seems the greatest injustice to watch the covering of her perfect form, so recently bare and flushed against yours.

It will not do. No, you cannot bear it. You spring awake, your mind and body united in their purpose.  With a crackle and flicker of your fingers, her robe whizzes into your grip. You draw yourself up against the headboard.

Aurora can be playful. You discovered it soon after she moved into your home. It was a delight, to step behind the veil of solemn reservation, to see the twinkle in those appraising eyes. There was the joy of novelty in her, too. She had never had the chance for mischief, under the yoke of illness and her mother’s cruelty. Now, she relishes the opportunity to tease and tickle, to nip at an earlobe or ghost over a nipple. To rise to the challenge of desire. You are almost certain she will play your game.

Her lips part in surprise for an instant. Then she frowns, an impression of disapproval. “Gale.”

There is something about the intensity of her furrowed brow that makes you want to grin. It is almost theatrical. Supremely endearing. You resist the urge, mirroring her frown instead.

“Oh.” You smooth out her robe in your lap, deliberate and measured. “Did you want this?”

“Gale.” Her tone is stern, but her gaze is tender. She bites her lip, a telltale sign that sparks through your thoughts and steels your resolve. Heat simmers beneath your skin, the thrumming arousal of half-sleep that swells. “Come now.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You come now.” You tap your thigh briskly. “Come here.”

She narrows her eyes, silver flashing in a grey sea. For a while she waits as you tilt your head, your lips curled in appraisal and expectation. She pulls at her slip, her arms hovering over her belly, a habit of concealing beauty she believes to be ugliness. A habit you are bent on helping her to break, even if it takes a lifetime.

The standoff does not last long. You knew it would not. With a sigh, she climbs onto the bed, grasping for the robe which you snatch away from her once, twice, three times. You are deft and quick, and she is small, and it is easy. She glares at you, shadow daggers without an edge.

“Come closer,” you drawl. 

Her cheeks are dusted coral now. You laugh as she clambers onto your lap, her slip riding higher and higher up her thighs as she clutches for the prize that you suspend frustratingly beyond her reach. A shoulder strap falls, her lowered neckline dancing over the dark skin around her nipple. The trail of freckles between her collarbone and her cleavage is a torment, stirring your ever-present compulsion to follow where it leads. You linger on the peaks pressing through the silk that clings to her breasts, almost translucent as she jostles. There is a gathering within you, a tingling in your groin that is spreading into your core. Your growing hardness twitches against her as you wet your lips.

You feel her sharp breath, warm and sour-sweet, the tightening of her lean calves bracketing you. The gentle, subconscious roll of her hips as her eyelids flutter. You sense, once again, that she cannot resist you. Rare are the occasions when she tries. You only have to ask, and she will open to you, like the blooming bud of an unseen flower, kept in a vault to which only you have the key. She is yours, and always will be.

A jolt of desire, red and raw, pulses through you.

You fling her robe onto the floor. She does not move towards it. You seize your victory.  A gasp escapes her as you press down on the velvet soft cheeks of her ass, her arms falling around your neck like an anchor. As she buckles forward, her thick waves form a curtain around your faces, streaked with faded light. She is everything, and there is nothing else but her. 

Aurora is quiet. In the early days, your only guide to her arousal was the catching and quivering of her breath, the tensing of her flesh, the rippling of her features. Through pants and pauses, you learned the peaks and troughs of her pleasure, and in the discovery, found that she, too, was embarking on uncharted territory. Until you, Aurora’s only experience of intimacy was to mask herself with a Glamour, lying still and silent to perform a role she never asked to play. Before you, she had never known the topography of love and desire, the twining of mind, flesh and soul with another.

She had confessed, later, that you were the only one to have brought her to climax. She had never before felt that explosion of ecstasy - singular and earth-shattering, entirely alien. You remember the long, lilting moan that dripped from her, echoing the first taste of her release. And though you felt sorrow at her story, you swelled with pride. Yours is the only flesh to have joined the marvel of hers, naked and unglamoured, and brought her to bliss. If you could wear this as a badge of honour for the world to see, you would.

Yet at times there is still a hesitation in her. Not just a shyness, cemented by years of isolation, when her body was always a punishment and never a privilege. But a hint of shame. A deep-seated suspicion that you will turn away.

To have beheld Aurora in all her glory has transformed you. You could never turn away.

Your hungry mouth finds hers, open, wet and willing. You clutch and pull at the offensive fabric that stubbornly separates her skin from yours. Heinous, wretched thing. You could tear it off, rip it with your teeth. As her tongue glides against yours, she does not seem to notice your frenzy. Her delicate fingers weave into your hair, setting every fibre alight. She whimpers ever so softly as you lap and suck at the corner of her lip, her chin gleaming and moist with your spit, and all at once you are rock hard, possessed by the feel and smell and taste of her. You wrench and tug her slip upwards, drawing back slightly to whip it over her head.

Aurora pauses. Flushed and breathless, she looks down, and you know she is registering her position. She is not cloaked by your writhing limbs, or obscured beneath the bedsheets. Wreathed in morning light, sitting astride you, her every blemish and bulge is on display. She is exposed. Doubt disturbs her gaze.

You must banish it. 

“I want to see you, Aurora.” You take hold of her hand, swirling your tongue across the pads of her fingers. “All of you. Just like this.” 

She shivers. For emphasis, you press her hand firmly against your cock. It throbs, free from the constraints of clothing, seeking her like a beacon. Her touch is a surge of electricity, and you cannot stop the groan that spurts out of you. Her grey eyes are almost black, dilated with unmistakable longing.

“Please,” you whisper.

You would not ask if you thought she was unwilling. If you saw displeasure in her hesitation, and not a residual fear of rejection, an anticipation of disgust. And you must show her, again and again, that you could never respond to the miracle of her beauty with anything but the most all-consuming love. You will never stop showing her.

In the steepling of her brow, you sense a shift. The shell of trust and love peeking open. She arches backwards with the easy grace of a swan, and you are the lake beneath and around and within her. You peel her slip off with a slow and gentle reverence, your breathing stilted by awe. She closes her eyes, and you are entranced by the arc of her lifted arms, the web of her lashes, the starry patterns of her dappled skin. The sheen of desire adorning her mound. 

She is, as always, a revelation. 

“I love you.” Your voice is a prayer. “Every part of you.”

You do not let her hands fall to conceal the softness of her stomach, the stretchmarks around her hips and breasts. All the parts you cherish which she yearns to hide, dazzling stitches in the glorious tapestry of Aurora. Her eyes glimmer as you clasp her hands against the bristles of your beard, holding her fast. An eternal affirmation. A promise you will keep making until the end of your days.

You are safe. You are seen. You are loved.

Her eyes widen as you push your tangled bodies away from the headboard. Raised halfway on her knees, she steadies herself on your shoulders, as though balanced on a tightrope, with only you to keep her from falling. Every muscle within you clenches with a building ache as you bend upwards to clasp her close. You run your tongue from the nook behind her earlobe to the heave of her breast, swirling a circle around her nipple.

“I love this part,” you murmur, sucking at the hardened bud.

Her breath seizes, arousal thrusting against uncertainty. As she tilts forward, you lean back on an elbow to savour the gift of this moment - the fullness of Aurora bare and naked before you, the undeniable quiver of faith, hope and love that vibrates through her flawless form. You circle one arm around the small of her back, and the warmth of her hands gliding up your neck and into your hair sends a spasm through your gut. When your tongue catches the salt around her navel, sweeping over each mole and freckle on her midriff, she stiffens. But you trust.

“I love this part,” you repeat.

You plant wet, starving kisses on the dimples of her belly, dark corners which Aurora so fears to tread. She tenses with apprehension, hanging back slightly. You look up at her, open mouthed, your tongue still flickering from its feast before. You hold her gaze as your fingers snake over her hip bone, through her damp wiry down, to her molten core. Her folds are hot and slick, her clit smooth as a nectar-coated petal. She shudders, toppling back into you as you find it, sending a pulse from the tips of your toes through the deepest recesses of your balls. 

“And this part,” you groan into her skin.

You can smell the salt tang of her desire now, and it is intoxicating. You hum, half-drunk, as you lap at the curves of her waist, tracing swift whirls around her fire with your lithe and expert fingers. With them, you can summon the mightiest storm, reduce enemies to dust. You can raise up and tear down. But no spell could ever come close to this most masterful of skills, reserved for her alone.

She lets out a whine, short and needy - that precious signal, the spark which stokes the raging fires within you. You cannot hold it any longer. You grab her hand in your slick-soaked fingers and wrap it around your cock. You are fully erect, veins throbbing, a desperate bead leaking from your tip. In her slender fingers, you are a giant, growing stiffer by the second. You are invincible.

If she had any reservations about her effect on you, there can be surely no doubt now. In this moment, there is nothing you want more. You are nothing more than an all-consuming ache for her. She looks at you half-lidded, a gossamer string of saliva trickling from her parted, plump lips. 

“Yes,” she pleads.

You are panting as you guide her hand, aligning your length against the dew of her entrance. She lowers herself onto you so delicately that you feel like clay in a sculptor’s hands. Her walls are so smooth, so tight, against the head of your cock, and the pleasure is so piercing that your elbow buckles under you as you writhe. She falls forward, her arms trembling on either side of your head, her tongue a helpless flurry inside, outside, around your eager mouth. The mattress shivers beneath you. You see how her mind narrows to a pinpoint, drifting from the flaws she imagines and longs to hide. You feel the grinding of her hips, inviting you deeper inside her. Every sign of her unravelling snaps a frayed nerve inside you.

“Yes, my love,” you manage. “Take your pleasure.”

She withdraws a little, confusion flitting across her features. A fleeting awkwardness. You remember that this is not a position Aurora is accustomed to, nor is the control and rapture that comes from it. All at once, you are gripped by a singular determination. You will show her, or help her learn herself. You will help her reclaim what has been lost to her, all these long and lonely years, before her comet blazed into your world.

You lean upwards, your hands resuming their placement on her ass. She stares, wide-eyed, unsure. You send your thoughts out to her - trust me - and her lips ease into a faint, halting smile. You finally understand the purpose of all those meaningless dalliances of your youth, when you fumbled over and finessed the techniques of love. They were all for her. All for this.

You draw your knees up and shift your pelvis. You feel for the swollen pearl of her clit against the top of your shaft. You have memorised its contours well, so well you could seek it out blind. Aurora is your favourite topic of study, a masterpiece you will never stop unveiling. And between the sheets, this gem is her centre. When you find it, you angle yourself so every surge of your cock will grind against it. She sucks in a breath, and you smile at the confirmation.

“Does this feel good?” 

As you thrust up into her, you push her hips down to swallow your length. A blush flares on Aurora’s cheeks, deep as the pink of her folds. You grit your teeth through the compulsion that engorges you, the tremors of need through your muscles. On the third stroke, she bites her lip and rolls her eyes back as she takes your fullness inside her.

Gods, you think to yourself. You cannot hold on much longer. One moan, one whimper, one gasp as she arches back, and you could let go and fall off the edge. 

You remind yourself that you must not. You must hold on for her.

“Take your pleasure, Aurora,” you rasp.

She moves slowly, tentatively, chasing after the movement you have set. You cup her breasts as they sway, pinching gently at her nipples, thumbing at the freckles nestled within their smooth, silky undersides. Rapt and voracious, you watch for signs of growing tension seeking release. A wrinkle appears between her eyebrows, the mark of laboured concentration. The drag of your cock inside her is an ache that rubs you raw. But there is a faltering in her rhythm as she rises and falls, a frown that betrays her mounting anxiety.

You realise, with horror, that she has slipped into a performance, and she feels she is failing.

She stops. “I'm sorry.” She looks away. “I'm not very good at this. I'm not sure-”

You lurch upwards to catch her words with your mouth. You speak your reassurance through the tender dance of tongues, the shield of your arms around her. You are furious with yourself, incandescent, to have put herself in this position. To have made her feel that she could do anything to let you down. It is unconscionable.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, moving back. “I didn’t mean-”

She cuts you off with an embrace. The force of it winds you. Aurora is small, but she is not weak. Her resolution has a firmness that has always stilled you. She nuzzles into your hair and neck, sealing tiny kisses along your Adam's apple. She soaks you in, and you are buoyed by the strength of her love, pure and unwavering. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You cannot ignore the sincerity in her voice. Her love is larger than your anger, greater than any foolish mistake you could make. Before her altar, you lay down the burdens of blame. You press your lips to her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. You had wondered if it was all too much for her, if you should stop. But her fingers are ghosting over the base of your cock, and her mouth is almost greedy when she tilts your chin down to taste your moan.

“What feels good?” you ask, when you pull apart to breathe.

She struggles to answer. The question is a continual discovery, its waypoints not formed from words. But you know some of them already. You can remind her. 

“Does this feel good?”

You brush your lips across her fingers, widening your mouth as you take two, then three, into your wet warmth. You swirl your practised tongue into the space between them, sucking one in softly, the other more firmly. Her gaze darkens, the edge of her thumbnail bearing against your beard as it glistens with your spit.

You are wizards. It was not a surprise to discover your mutual love of fingers, those graceful channels of power and wonder. She had been surprised, at first, to find out all the secret spells they could cast. Her clear delight filled you with a fervent satisfaction. You know, as you press your fingers into her open mouth, that this will drive her wild. 

Her eyes wrench closed as her tongue glides down the length of your index finger, weaving and winding across, desperate for more. The shine of saliva on her chin mirrors the moisture that streams over your spasming cock as she licks and sucks with increasing hunger, whining as you plunge her digits deeper into your mouth. As you savour every inch and groove of her, your thoughts slow to a trickle. You are coming undone. 

She begins to rock, echoing the rhythm of your fingers. The flame of her desire burns over in tiny oscillations of her hips that shudder through your girth. Wider and stronger they grow, following the fierce current that takes hold of her, banishing all thought and doubt. You keen, her walls tightening and clenching as she flinches, the top of your shaft aching from the bulge of her clit and the friction that mounts as she rolls faster and faster into you. Her whimper rumbles through the pads of your fingers, and you hear the slick, heavy sounds of her arousal everywhere at once.

“Gale.” Her voice is torn with need and pleasure. “That feels so good.’

Her words are a spell. A door swings open inside you, breaking from its hinges. She senses it. Your hips snap of their own accord, thrusting to her quickening pace. All the love and lust within you gathers into the power between your legs, a roiling river ready to burst its banks. You gulp and suck, your teeth catching on her knuckles, your fingers pressing down on her flurrying tongue. She shakes as her wetness convulses around your surging cock, the twitching urgency of climax pulling her off the precipice. You gasp out a muffled cry, clinging to the last vestiges of the dam inside you as they splinter, one by one. She throws her head back and cries out your name.

You explode inside her. It is a shattering of every sensation that you have ever felt, an unleashing of yourself in bursts of blinding ecstasy. You spasm against her, a chaos of incoherent murmurs through the aftershocks of bliss. Your chest heaves, your vision fogs, your skin tingles against hers. And when your eyes meet again, a haze of awe and wonder cocoons you.

There are many things you want to say as you lie beside her. Her gaze is bright and gentle as sunlight on snow, her tousled hair a waterfall winding through your heart. You want to tell her that you love her with the fire of a thousand suns. That no night sky or grand illusion could ever hold a candle to her beauty. That she is your beginning and your end, and every instant with her is the most magical of revelations. But you do not. 

It is her moment. Her milestone. You sense the memories that ebb and flow within her, the tide of your love washing over her wounds. You listen to the lilt of her breathing, the swell of the sea, the drum of your heartbeat. Her robe and slip lie discarded on the floor as the morning wears on. You trace the footsteps of her freckles, while she maps out the drifting down on your skin. 

“I think I could do that again,” she says finally. Her smile is light with mischief. 

You grin as she melts into your arms.

-----

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

[wreckedandpolemic]

6,98,99. Sorry for the multiple numbers, they just work so well together.

Also love your work!💜

my kink is karma - matty healy

(mdni) in which your ex wants to give you a birthday treat. too bad for your boyfriend. 2099 words.

warnings: cheating, semi-public sex, daddy kink

Firstly, you’d like to say that you’re not a spiteful person, thank you very much. But fuck if it doesn’t feel good to run into your ex drinking alone while celebrating your birthday with your friends and your shiny, new boyfriend. Matty salutes you with his glass when you spot him, and you ignore him pointedly. He won’t fucking leave it alone, though — that’s always been his problem.

“Of all the gin joints in all the world, she walks into mine,” says Matty, low in your ear as you go to order yourself another drink at the bar. You hope he doesn’t notice the shudder that runs through you at the sound of his voice. “Whatever she’s having on my tab, yeah?” he adds smoothly, and you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll have a bottle of the most expensive champagne you’ve got,” you grin. What? He’s got the money for it, and you aren’t going to turn down a free drink on your birthday, of all days. Matty shrugs when the bartender looks at him to confirm, and she hands you the bottle in a cooler.

You turn to leave, go back to your friends, but Matty takes hold of your wrist, gentle enough that you could break out of it. Something stops you, though. “Happy birthday,” he mutters. “Thought about callin’, but…” he blows out a breath. “The way we left things, I didn’t know if you’d wanna hear from me.”

Feigning casualness, you shrug, pretending like the reminder of your heart-wrenching breakup doesn’t tear at you all over again. “Yeah… Well, you’re here now,” you say matter-of-factly. “How’ve you been?” you ask, despite knowing the answer. Over the last six months, you’ve taken some kind of twisted pleasure in keeping tabs on him, in watching his life fall apart.

The two of you split in April, leaving you forced to move out of the apartment you loved that was in his name, nine days after you’d paid your half of the rent. June, he got arrested in a drunken bar fight; July crashed his car, the car he loved more than almost anything, leaving it completely written off; August, the girl he’d been seeing since suspiciously soon after your breakup left him with no warning. Meanwhile, you’ve had a promotion, gotten into the perfect relationship and everything is falling neatly into place.

Your reaction to him being around is involuntary, you tell yourself, fucking Pavlovian. You were together for three fucking years, of course your body still responds to him. It’s still learning what it’s like to live without him. Matty sighs, and you jolt out of your reverie as you remember you asked him a question. “Not great,” he admits. “Drinkin’ alone on a Friday night not tip you off?” he says, bitterness tracing his tone. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’ve been great,” you say blithely. “I’m making great money, I’m in love, properly this time,” you can’t resist adding. “And you just bought me a bottle of champagne and told me everything sucks for you! What more could a girl want on her birthday?”

Matty scoffs. “You’re still the same,” he says coolly. “Bratty when you’re not getting fucked right, huh?” he adds, your stomach swooping at his words.

You don’t know what makes you admit it, some heady combination of mixed drinks and Matty’s presence for the first time in months overcoming all sense, but you murmur, “M’not. He’s not as good as you. S’the only thing I miss.” You try to weaken the admission.

Matty’s eyes light up, and you groan internally. “Is that so?” His grip tightens on your wrist and you stumble towards him when he tugs on it, a sickening pulse of arousal dripping down your spine. “Got everything you want, huh? Even down to your perfect little boyfriend. But you think about me when he’s fucking you, don’t you?” he breathes, something hard and dangerous in his tone, your heart thudding traitorously as he leans closer. 

“I… That’s not true.” you say, but the wavering of your voice betrays you, and he smirks wickedly.

“You can’t lie to me, baby. I know you too well.” The statement lodges in your throat like you’ve dry-swallowed a pill, the truth ringing disgustingly clear. “What do you say? You want one last good fuck, for old times’ sake?”

You should pull away. You need to pull away. You have to pull away. But you can’t. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” you say. Matty’s eyes darken, but you know he took note of the most crucial element first: it wasn’t a refusal.

“I never cheated on you,” Matty says seriously. “I did a lot of other shit, I know I did, but not that. Never that.”

You swallow hard. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“One more time. One more fuck. I need you out of my system,” you breathe, and you could almost cum from the filthy look on his face. Guiltily, you slink to the bathroom, casting furtive glances around and praying nobody spots you trailing after Matty and slipping behind a locked door.

Matty slams you against the door the second it shuts, devouring you in a harsh kiss, teeth and tongue sliding together almost violently. Having his hands on you again feels horrifyingly good, nauseatingly familiar. He’s hard, you can feel as he presses his body against yours, and you whimper pathetically into his mouth. “God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Matty groans, like he can’t help himself. “Makes me sick. Been fuckin’ dying for you, baby.”

“So hurry up,” you snap. “I know you’re here alone, but I have people who care, and not much time before one of them notices I’m missing.”

“Such a brat,” Matty teases. “Need a good fuck to shut you up, yeah? S’alright, baby. Daddy’s here now. Gonna give you what you need.” The bottom falls out of your stomach and his words, a helpless, strangled moan escaping you. “Oh, missed your Daddy, have you, darling? Not given your little boyfriend my name, right?”

“N-no,” you stammer. “He… he wouldn’t understand. You’re my Daddy, couldn’t replace you.” Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your mind dizzy with desire, the words spilling from your lips without permission.

You’d forgotten how it feels with him, how Matty gets you sick with lust, thick and palpable in the air of the small room. “Good girl,” he croons. “Bend over for Daddy, yeah? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

You obey, the sight of your reflection sickening. You look fucked-out already, flushed red and panting. Matty’s hands come to rest on your hips, stroking appreciatively over the curve of your ass and pushing your too-short dress up around your hips. Torturously slow, he pulls your panties off, motioning for you to step out of them when they hit the floor. “I’m keeping these,” he says, slipping the scrap of lace into his pocket. “Something to remember you by, yeah?”

Wrapped up in his touch as you were, the reminder that this is a one-time thing shocks you like you’ve been doused with ice water. Right now, you don’t have a fucking clue why you even broke up, not when his fingers are so achingly close to your dripping core. “God, Matty, please!” you choke out, widening your legs desperately. 

“Give me a minute, baby. Missed this pretty cunt so much. Gotta make sure I don’t forget a thing, if this is the last time m’gonna get to have you.” He brushes his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the barest touch over your swollen clit. Meeting your gaze in the dingy mirror, Matty wraps his lips around his wet fingers, moaning exaggeratedly as he sucks them clean. “God, missed the way you taste, darling. Sweetest fucking girl I’ve ever had,” he promises, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans.

You squirm, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. You hear the sound of a foil wrapper tearing open, and before you can process, Matty slides into you, your knees buckling at the sudden fullness. “F-fuck,” you whimper, the feeling of being wholly surrounded by him familiar as he thrusts deep into you, pleasure cascading over your bones.

“God, you feel so fucking good, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Daddy’s gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name,” Matty promises, shushing you soothingly as you whimper. His hips slam against yours, ecstasy flooding your veins as your thighs bash against the sink. He fists a hand in your hair, dragging you up to meet your own gaze in the mirror. “Look at yourself, baby. Look how gorgeous you are, falling apart on my dick. Right where you should be, hm?” he murmurs, heat flooding your belly as you watch yourself take his cock over and over. “He could never fuck you like this, huh? Whose girl are you, really?”

“M’yours, Daddy. Yours, still yours, all yours,” you babble, cunt clenching wantonly around him as his smirk grows and his pace speeds. You moan horrifyingly loud when he hits that spot inside of you, too dizzy with desire to control your noises.

“Shh, baby, shh. Try not to be so noisy, yeah? Can’t let anyone know what we’re doin’ in here, that this lying fucking bastard has you split open and begging on his cock.” He throws your words from your final fight back in your face, pinching your clit meanly and fucking you deep. You can’t hold back another whimpering scream, and he scoffs. “Needy little whore can’t keep quiet, huh?” he murmurs, sliding two of his fingers into your mouth. Eagerly, you suck on them, your moans muffled as saliva pools under your tongue.

Heat scorches through you, every thrust of Matty’s hips and grunt that falls from his lips sending an illicit spark of pure pleasure racing up your spine. You can’t think, can barely breathe, choked in desperate lust that drips out of you and soaks him. He’s right, you can’t remember anything but him, his name circling your head, denting your brain out of shape. Nothing but Matty, Matty, Matty. “This fuckin’ pussy drives me insane, baby. Always so wet for me, so wet for your Daddy. Could have this all the time, if you wanted.”

His words cut through the fog in your mind as Matty slides his fingers free from your mouth to let you answer. “What do you mean?” you stammer, your disloyal heart skipping a beat.

“We had issues, yeah. But we were good together,” Matty murmurs, rubbing distracting circles into your clit, training you into giving the right response. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last six months. About us.” He slams his hips against yours on the final word, pleasure roiling in your stomach, every muscle in your body stringing taut. “I want another try. I know it would be better this time. I’d be better,” he promises, nails digging possessively into your hips.

“Matty, I–” You’re at a loss for words. His face crumples almost imperceptibly; if you weren’t so attuned to him, you wouldn’t have known.

“S’okay, baby. Fucked you too dumb to answer, I get it. You wanna be a good girl and cum for Daddy?” You nod wildly, his circles over your clit getting tighter and faster and you whimper helplessly, but you don’t miss how he’s stopped meeting your eyes.

Ecstasy winds around your veins, sticky, hot desire pinning you still as Matty fucks into you. “Fuck, Daddy, m’gonna–” you gasp out, the tension in your body finally breaking, stars going supernova behind your eyelids. Your legs tremble, your entire body going limp as waves of pleasure swirl in your stomach and buffet your organs.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Matty murmurs soothingly. “Daddy’s got you. Whenever you want, I’ll be here,” he promises, and a split-second later you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, the feeling of his cum spilling in your cunt sorely missing.

It takes a few moments before your legs have stopped shaking enough for you to stand, Matty supporting your waist as you clutch your abused muscles. “We should… I should get back out there,” you say, raking your fingers through your hair in an effort to tame it. You both look well-fucked, the question of how you’re going to explain your absence rattling around your mind. Matty meets your eyes one last time, looking over his shoulder as he unlocks the door.

“When you get bored of him, call me. I’ll be waiting.”

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; Bloody Feast (Vampire!Thranduil x Fem!Reader)

Summary - Periods. The time of the month you despise the most, is the time of the month your lover eagerly awaits for.

Warnings - Smut, language, afab reader, fem!reader, vampire!Thranduil, slight dom!Thranduil, mention of periods (frequent), mention of blood (frequent), weird descriptions of periods (I am sorry), mention of blood clots (again, I am sorry), oral sex (reader receiving), brief mention of male receiving oral sex, semi-public oral sex, blood play.

Pronouns & POV - She/Her, third-person-ish

Word Count - 2,200+

A/N - I had a weird thought and well...this monstrosity was created. I never thought I would make another Vampire!Thranduil smut but there is a second time for everything. I am suffering and needed a distraction. I wrote this in the span of about three hours from an odd idea I had. Smut under the cut.

Read on Wattpad Read on AO3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Periods. That time of the month when your least favorite monthly visitor arrives. Though, out of what felt like spite for you, said visitor would be either fashionably early to put a damper on your plans or terrifyingly late to make you ponder the delay as it took its sweet time to arrive: typically arriving while you were wearing something white.

But, regardless of the name you bestowed upon that time of the month, it was inevitable. It came, bringing along cramps, mood swings, and a bloody mess that always managed to stain a pair of your unmentionables during its stay.

Amongst the pain, mood swings, and mess it left behind lingered an unexpected emotion from your vampiric lover. Lust.

The first time you had your monthly bleed around the pale-haired vampire, you noticed a shift in his demeanor.

A subtle change at first. It was nothing you paid too much mind to, though the pain of the lining of your womb shedding out of your core had blinded you from the way the vampiric king lingered by you. It was something you waved away, believing your lover was merely worried over how you writhed in pain as the unfertilized egg shed alongside the old lining of your womb. Yet, nothing could prepare you for the truth of the matter.

The truth of why he lingered, why his sapphire eyes fixated on you, burning holes into your skull, was due to the fact he thirsted for the blood that poured from your core. He yearned to taste the rotted fruit of your womb, the blood of expired life, upon his tongue, to feast upon the blood you despised.

The lust for your expired blood rose as the months passed. The scent of your shedding flooded his sensitive nostrils, making it nearly unbearable to be in your presence as the urge to take you, to feast upon the blood of your womb, flooded through the vampire's chilled veins. Igniting a fire, a passion that had been dormant inside him for ages.

A fire he managed to keep at a brief simmer. The flame of his thirst managed to stay steady long enough for him to slip away into the forest and feast upon any poor deer he managed to sink his fangs into -- yet deer tasted bitter compared to the scent of your sweet, fertile blood.

However, it appeared that today would test the limits of his resistance.

It happened amid supper; the vampiric king raised his fork to meet his cold, thin lips when the sudden scent of sweet metallicness entered his sensitive nose alongside the chill of air. The muscles within his body went tense, the smooth metal within his dominant hand bending under the pressure of his chilled grasp.

His cold, sapphire gaze quickly snapped up from the various foliage upon his plate and fell onto the heavenly figure that sat beside him. You.

The burn of his intense gaze roamed your figure, warming it even through the chill of the night air as he searched for the cause of that oh-so-delicious scent. And then, he spotted it. The purity of your ivory gown, now stained a delicious deep crimson amid the inner thigh region as you shifted in discomfort upon the wooden chair.

The flesh of your cheeks began to heat as you felt the familiar twisting cramp of your bleed beginning. A sense of dread and embarrassment danced within your veins as you shrunk back within the plush wooden seat, attempting to hide the bloodied bits of your gown beneath the elongated table, unaware of the pure lust that roamed the chilled veins of your lover.

The light within his sapphire-hued gaze began to dim, the roaring fire of lust within his core began to burn wild as he slowly inhaled the delicious scent of your shedding womb. His nostrils flared, the lids of his eyes drooping as they glazed over with an unmistakable hunger and lust.

"Y/N," He spoke, his voice low and twinging with the unbridled lust that nearly burst at his seams the longer he sat beside you. "accompany me back to our quarters. I require your assistance in retrieving something of great importance." A simple request, one that appeared to be your way out of this humiliating mess.

The hue of your head bobbing rapidly filled his darkening gaze, earning a slight smirk on the corners of his thin lips. Yet, it went without notice as you were too fixated on shielding the sight of the delicious blood that stained your once pristine gown.

The soft clank of your beloved's fork hitting the wooden table echoed throughout the silent air, lingering within it as the blur of your vampiric lover standing filled your view. The swiftness of his motions nearly caught you off guard as you felt the chill of his hand encase the warmth that was your own, the steady tug of his led you out of the dining hall and away from prying eyes.

The heat of your cheeks burnt brighter as you felt the gaze of the guards lingering upon your sullied rear. The large crimson color seeped deep within the gown, showing all who viewed it the state of your aching womb. A sight that your lover salivated over as he dragged you into the twisted halls.

──────

The harsh wood of the twisted woodland halls dug into your stained gown as the pale-haired man pressed you up against it. The light within his eyes dimmed, replaced with the dark, burning fire of lust as he inhaled the sweet, metallic scent of your bleeding core.

"Thranduil--" His name left your lips in the air of a surprised gasp, the size of your gemstone-colored eyes widened as they gazed upon the now lust-driven vampire that towered over you. The size of his nostrils increased as they flared with lust, taking in every last breath of your sweet, bleeding womb as he leaned to your ear.

"I have waited long enough." The chill of his breathed growl earned a shiver to roam down your spine, a momentary distraction from the pain that roamed within your core. "And now, I shall feast." A statement you barely had time to process, as the sudden blur of his pale golden locks filled your line of sight.

The wooden floor creaked under the weight of his body down on his knees. The sudden cold swish of the skirt of your gown being hoisted up followed suit in sound, the weight of the smooth, silken fabrics now rested upon the mid of your stomach.

And as you gained weight in the middle of your belly, you lost the weight of the blood-soaked unmentionables that shielded your bleeding cunt from the starved vampire.

"Yes." The words slithered out of his mouth like the hiss of a snake, the moisture within his mouth near overflowing as he gazed upon the bloodied lips that rested around your core. A delicious sight he yearned for, dreamt of for what felt like an eternity to the eternal man.

Before you had a moment's thought, the sudden chill of his frozen tongue lapped upon your bleeding core. His licks were long and slow as he savored every ounce of the sweet, clotted metallic flavor upon his tongue. A pleased growl vibrated against your sensitive, aching cunt causing a small electric wave to roam throughout your pain-ridden body.

The smooth glide of the cold flesh of his chiseled cheeks grazed against the warm flesh of your bloodied inner thighs, furthering the waves of pain mixed with pleasure throughout your body as he continued to lap up the entirety of your aching core. His tongue cleansed every crack and crevice of that delicious, clotted blood he had yearned for, for so long. Savoring the taste and texture of the sheddings of your womb with a feral growl as he delved deeper into each sensitive fold.

The delicious, deep crimson color began to lighten in hue. The sweet, metallic taste now gained a familiar tang of pleasure upon his tongue as the sweet nectar of your arousal began to mix with the blood of your womb. A heavenly combination he had only smelt upon you during the rare times you gave him head during your monthly bleed.

"Ah!" The sound left your lips in a surprised gasp as the sudden, cool stretch of his tongue entered the warmth of your core. The cold swirl of his tongue danced within your core, allowing it to be completely coated with the delicious mixture of your bleeding arousal. The weight of your hips shifted on their own, mindlessly dancing alongside the patterns of his tongue as the tips of your nails began to grasp against the harsh texture of the wooden wall your back rested upon.

A pleased growl vibrated against your sensitive core, the hypnotic sensation coaxed out further sounds of pleasure from your plump lips as the weight of your head began to tilt back into the wood. Any care for the blood that stained your gown, a stain that would likely never come out, faded from your mind as you fell into the trance of the coldness within your aching center.

The vampiric king continued to feast within your bleeding core, slurping up each pleasure-filled drop of your sweet, bloody nectar as his tongue continued to circle inside of you. The speed was unpredictable. At times, it was slow, following the size of a blood clot before it dropped into the coldness of his hungered mouth, while other times it was rapid. Quick. And jutting. Hitting the most sensitive ounces in your core, making the muscles within your abdomen clench as a familiar tightness began to find itself amidst the field of pain that waged inside of you.

The sudden cold, rough graze of his smooth, frozen thumb grazed against your sensitive bundle of nerves. A choked gasp found itself out of your lips as your hips bucked up upon his face. An instinctive reaction, one the vampiric king decided to use to his advantage.

The frozen caress of his thumb pressing into your clit furthered the electric pleasure that roamed your body. The precise circles that danced upon your clit synced with the ones that waltzed within the walls of the entrance to your womb. A skillful dance that led you in the tango of pleasure, guiding you with every motion as your hips followed suit in the hypnotic sway.

"Thranduil." His name escaped your lips like a desperate prayer, hoping for your god to hear you and grant you what you desired most at that moment: release.

"That's it." The vibrations of his words bounced throughout your bleeding core, the weight of his thumb pressed further into your sensitive bundle of nerves, the motions of which it danced upon becoming rapid as he continued to devour you. "Give it to me. Give it all to me." He commanded, tongue jutting in and out of your savory core with immense speed.

Tongue tying knots inside of your clenching walls, scooping out every trace of blood it could catch as the pressure of his thumb grew more intense in weight and speed. The sway of pleasure danced you to the edge, making the room spin with every swirl of his frozen tongue and finger.

And, as the finale of the tango of lust, you were thrown over the edge, leaving you sinking into the sea of pleasure. The tang of your bloodied nectar flooded the vampiric king's mouth, drowning his senses with that sweet metallic zest of your bleeding pleasure. The cries of your pleasure bounced throughout the once silent woodland halls, alerting all those with sensitive ears to what was transpiring amidst the once quick exit.

The vampiric king growled in pleasure, happily downing the mouthful of nectar, groaning in satisfaction at the textured clots that went down his throat as his nostrils flared with relief.

Finally, he had received the bloody feast he had been yearning for all these months.

The speed at which your chest rose and fell quickened as you searched for your breath amongst the scent of pleasure that danced throughout the air. The sweat that clung to your skin allowed for the beautifully stained gown to join it in hugging your heavenly figure, making you appear like a glowing goddess rather than the bleeding mess you typically felt during your annual bleeds.

The chill of the king's tongue departed from your core, and soon after, the weight of his smooth, cold thumb eased from your sensitive bundle of nerves. A soft, disappointed whine slipped through your plump lips as you watched the vampire rise from his knees, the wood creaking at the shift of weight as he licked the remnants of your metallic pleasure off of his lips.

"Come now, my songbird," The king spoke, his voice laced with amusement as he fixed your skirt, shielding your bleeding cunt from the cold air. "we have the rest of your monthly to indulge." The light within his sapphire eyes returned as he spoke, now twinkling with a mixture of mischief and desire as he clutched your blood-sullied undergarments within his cold palm. His free one took the warmth of yours in his hand as he continued to steady pace to your shared quarters where he would surely indulge in yet another bloody feast.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[jq37]

neme(sis)

Summary: The Rat Grinders actually fight the Bad Kids on the Hangman instead of just sending dragons and Adaine has to do some quick thinking.

"Adaine Abernant."

Adaine winced, clutching her head as Raulothim's Psychic Lance pierced her mind. It figured Oisin knew the spell. Raulothim was a dragon after all. She wondered if he learned it in class like her or if he'd come to school already familiar with the spell because of his dragon ancestor who was currently trying to swallow Gorgug, axe and all. She didn't wonder for too long though. There wasn't time.

"See what you can do with access to proper spell components?" Oisin called from the other side of the room, his tone mocking.

"That spell doesn't even have material components!" Adaine called back in spite of herself. Insulting her was one thing but getting basic spellcraft wrong while doing it? Unacceptable. She ignored his expression, smug from getting a rise out of her no doubt, and surveyed the battlefield. The Rat Grinders had caught them on their back foot. Things were going OK but they were playing defense. And no one was where they needed to be. Spellcasters too close to melee, fighters out of range. Only Gorgug was arguably in the right place but he was far too close to being dragon food for her liking. Fabian needed to be closer to the action, Riz needed cover, and she…

Adaine suppressed a smile, idea forming in her mind. She needed to be in punching distance.

"Scatter," she said, raising a hand. Five creatures: Gorgug, Riz, Fabian, Kristen…and Oisin.

Her party members didn't fight the spell, well used to the feeling of her magic working on them mid-battle and knowing that it never meant harm. As she moved them to more advantageous positions, she was hit with a flash of the future: Oisin resisting the spell. She reached out and nudged fate just a bit. Nearby, Ivy walked dangerously close to a breath weapon attack. Oisin startled, moved to grab her, and--pop. Suddenly, he was standing right next to Adaine who was already rearing her fist.

"Counterspell!" Oisin called, runes on his forearms glowing. The expression on his face was even more smug as the blue energy charging on her fist fizzled.

"Predictable," he said.

"Gullible," Adaine thought, halting her fist without following through on the punch and stomping her foot on the ground to activate the teleportation circle they were both now standing on. Because of course the boy with the empty house and unlimited funds would have a teleportation circle installed so he could have his friends over as often as possible. Teleportation via spell needed a willing creature but a Circle? That just needed proximity.

As the spell went off, she concentrated. The benefit of a teleportation circle was that it couldn't go wrong like a normal Teleport spell could. It wasn't supposed to anyway. But any magic could be tweaked if you pushed hard enough. She remembered winding up in the wrong room in the twisted version of Mordred inside Riz's briefcase and concentrated on that feeling. She was sure she was going to have a headache in the morning but that was more than a fair price. She wrenched control of the spell, just enough to force the circle to spit them out a little bit outside of the paired circle in Mordred. There was a flash of light and--forget having a headache tomorrow. Her head felt like it had been bashed in with a pickaxe the moment they landed on the floor of her bedroom. She didn't think she'd be able to get back up for a minute or two--she didn't even try. Oisin didn't seem to have that problem though. He got up and stood over her.

He smirked. "I thought the elven oracle was supposed to be more of a challenge. I knew we'd come out on top but I didn't think it'd be so easy." He raised his hands, readying a spell, but the sparks at his clawtips died as quickly as they were produced. He tried the spell again to the same result, too focused to notice the sudden subtle sheen to the patterns painted on her bedroom walls.

A Sending spell pinged in her mind. "Ten seconds, dear sister."

A smile played on Adaine's lips.

"What?" Oisin demanded.

"Just that you all have been so obsessed with being our nemeses this whole time. But that was never gonna happen with you and me. That position is already filled."

There was another flash of light and before it even cleared, Adaine felt the tingle of magic settling over her like a second skin. Her sister's abjurer's ward extending to cover her reflexively. Just beyond the ward, she could feel the temperature in the room start to drop--a side effect of the Cone of Cold that was about to erupt from Aelwyn's outstretched hands.

"You're familiar with my bitch of a sister, right?"

[ur-mousey]

Time Moves ~

-Yand!True Form! Sukuna Ryomen x Disciple! F!Reader-

Part two

summary Sukuna demands attention from his out of breath disciple for leaving him alone. 2.2k warning mature, smut, possessive themes, mentions of bondage/imprisonment, pussy-eating, dub-con.

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

A god lay in wait. His legs spread out. His head rested on the palm of his hand, staring down at his angry red-tipped cock, which pulsed for the cruel mouth of his beloved disciple. He dug his elbow further into his thigh to resist pounding his shaft into the nearest cunt. Animal or women. His other three arms found purchase elsewhere among cool cobblestones to distract from the heat in his chest.

These trips of hers get longer and longer, he thought to himself.

With other disciples, he didn't care for their comings and goings. His little pet, however, he needed to hold her down by a leash. Maybe it's because she's the only one at his side.

Sukuna Ryomen, the God of Curses, was the first to cultivate spite, revenge, and war among the human race. But, he was needed more whenever your hands were held in a prayer nowadays. He was aware that the village below held wavering faith -they hardly believed at all. Trades such as merchants and high-end seamstresses gain riches far faster than that of a war mongrel. And it is true that as a God of War, he has been weakened due to this time of peace. 

It disgusted him to no end. The smoke below was no longer a symbol of families' homes ravished by flames or hunkered-down soldiers in a state of panic while children died tortuously around them. However, it meant that a family feast on a bounty of saccharine pastries baked in the oven.

Years ago, you had begged to venture through the festival roads. One month drew into the next, and each day was the same ordeal to both parties contempt.

Sukukna denied you the pleasure whereas you gave. On your knees, you would whisper his name like the temptress who trained you long ago. You handed out kitten licks and hollowed mouth sucks, coaxing his pre-cum to splash your tongue. Then you would offer your ass in preparation for his impending orgasm. Until one day, he surrendered to your devilish demands.

Once a year, he had promised to allow you to venture away from the shrine to partake in the New Year festivities. However, this god could lie. He broke that promise quicker than he did you.

The first year, you left and returned with a basket filled past the brim with mundane sweets. Most of which you had forgotten existed: red bean buns, daifuku, and a plethora more that Sukuna had cared little for. He had scolded you for the lack of satiating meat in your haul. "I desired other things. Why not accompany me next year? There were all sorts of skewers," You whispered into his ear with a playful bite.

"If only I could go without lifting a leg," Sukuna waved off.

That time, you sank to your knees, looking up at him. "My God, is there a way I could convince you by next year? I offer you the first pick of the desserts."

So he took his favorite one. Your first year out of his sight bared its weight on your thighs. He discarded the bought goods across the floor. You had been gone merely three hours. However, Sukuna could not lift his head from your heat. Your saltiness kept his tongue pushed deep into her sopping hole.

Your feeble arms pushed against Sukuna, who has strapped you down at your waist. He knew that you were crying profusely. He wanted you to break down more upon his tongue. 

Your nails drew blood from his shoulder blades as he held your legs wide. You had struggled to kick out at his thighs. Now, they twitched at the bite of his teeth on your clit. Sukuna would have chuckled at the pleas you made to unlock your neck. But, the collar that secured you to the floor fit you so snug. You were his perfect pet. 

He sucked in between your flesh, tasting you over and over again to never forget that you were perfectly made for his sinful desires. 

He overreacted. Ten days were spent in his personal heaven. And Sukuna couldn't tell if she enjoyed it herself.

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

Your salvation is at the top of the mountain where your God resides. At least, that's what you had told yourself at the base of those stone steps.

When you were staring up into the endless sky. When you could feel the trees wave and the birds sing blessings upon your journey. Now, all within your heart was the sound of ringing, the pumping of blood which aided in the spasm of your muscles. How much longer?

You thought you hated making the trip down in fear of toppling over, but it was the climb up that made you appreciate the respite of the poor village. It felt more humane talking to the workers below than doing endless cardio.

But days like these were rare. The villagers do not recognize you anymore, nor do you recognize them. Every day spent in the village are new faces and you are just a humble stranger. You doubt that whatever family you had left out there would know it is you.

Time moves differently on the mountain. 

Your body felt like it would fall apart at the seams. Your bag was filled to the brim with food: savory meats, dried jerky, and sweets galore. You looked at the upcoming archway that marked the journey as being a third over with. The pillars hold familiarity fore this was as far as your God allowed you to step off of the immediate property. You can see the works of your crafted talisman plastered on every vertical surface. It’s maddening. Black ink smeared upon crimson parchment. Sukuna had glared at your work but he shrugged and let you be. That was long ago when humans gathered for his harem. You were the only left.

You knew that your God lied to you. Yearly visits to the mortal world easily showed you that more time has gone by. Today, a girl named Yumi worked at your favorite stall selling pastry goods. But the year before, it was the newly wedded Hiragashi couple. You remembered the young wife brimming with light, belly round and ready to pop. And you remembered how the husband begged his wife to sit while he handled the bustling night market. When you asked about the two, Yumi sighed, "They are my parents."

Hiragashi Yumi was that baby yet to be born, now she stood before you in her twenties. Her parents are significantly older when you're not.

Time moves differently on the mountain.

What were you to do? Your God wouldn't want to hear any of your plight. You doubt that this is a matter he would allow you to fight for.

He'd taunt you. He'd ask if it even matters when at the end of the day, you got to take the excursion. But, it terrifies you that you cannot tell the difference between a year and twenty.

You had to let it go. 

You had taken the moment to set down your bag. The pillar felt like stone against your forehead. It was obviously made out of stone and the realization slammed into your pounding head. It's hard and grainy like time. You realized there were no memories before you laid eyes on your God. You try to calm your breath. Did you even have a family or a childhood? When did life begin for you? Will your life ever end or will it be determined by your God?

Vines coiled up the stone pillar, its leaves brushed against your flushed cheeks. You watched them grow each day. Water droplets slid from them to you, on you cheek. A cause from the earlier drizzle, you presume. It made you wonder if it was safe to cry. After speaking to Yumi, you admitted that you wanted nothing more than the comfort of home. Despite knowing better, there is nothing for you outside of the arms of your God.

"Pet, why the long face." Your body went rigid and you shot your head up the path. The moon shows half its face to the world. And like the moon, your God sat encased primarily in shadows. His eyes showed bright vermillion. 

"My God, why have you come this far from the shrine?" You panted through the coils in your chest. You quickly gathered yourself to the best of your abilities. First, you start by kicking off your hard-to-walk-in sandals. Then you shimmed your hair from its tight bun, allowing the terraces to flow. The black rose pin that held the style together, you placed behind your ear. Lastly, you make work of the kimono. You had pestered your God to help tuck and tie to perfection. Now, it’s folded fabric that you set on top of your traveling pack. 

You stood straight to be beheld. "Here, I bare myself to you." You do not own undergarments, you don't remember a time in which you would have. You bowed till you were sure that your whole body felt flatted into the mountain's steps. "My God."

"Come," Your God beckoned. "Drop the God." 

"Yes Sukuna," You huffed out. "Shall I bring you any food or dessert? The night market was more lively than the last! I could hardly handle the long lines. And I thought we would have more fun watching the fireworks from within the courtyard."

"Quit yapping and come. I couldn't care less for mortal foods."

You make your ascent up the remaining steps separating you two. "Aw, I guess that I'm the only mortal food you'll eat." You let out a giggle through the racing questions. "I hope that you know that you are getting my stuff from below, it has been quite tedious for this mortal to make it this far."

Sukuna looked up into your eyes. You have made it in between his parted legs. You swayed there for a little bit before assuming your kneeling position. Your finger grazed Sukuna's hair before using his shoulder to brace your knees when hitting the slab below. Back straight. Bum placed directly over heel. And, your hands cling to each elbow behind your back in a straight line. "Bold to order me around."

"It was a suggestion."

"A hell of one." Sukuna placed his finger under your lips "Your chin should be lifted. Do you need a reminder? And where should your eyes be?"

"Retraining won’t be necessary." You lifted your chest higher to prove the point as you focused on Sukuna's manhood. His white robe left little to the imagination especially since he never ties it properly. His tattoos frame his sculpted abs and draw the eyes to his glorious v-line. And it's only if you don't do a double take of the smirking mouth protruding from the middle of his stomach. You are used to it and you have been more than aquatinted to how perverted it makes you feel. 

"The long face, pet?" Your nickname was held off long enough to feel somewhat like an afterthought or an attack on your ego.

You sighed, "At the market... This girl I met was twenty, but when I met her last year, she wasn't born yet. I had talked to her parents."

You dared look up into Sukuna's four eyes, searching from one to the other which all stared back at you. "Oh pet, are you mad?"

"Should I be?"

"Why no, pet," Sukuna whispered. He bowed his head to rest his forehead against yours, coated in a film of sweat. "I could make you forget the thoughts running in your dumb head. You are a pet that only needs to know of her master." He scraped a finger behind your ear, taking the black rose pin and with his other hand, he swept your hair back to his liking. "But, if you are mad, I will allow you to pierce me with this. Hold out your hand."

You did as told. Now the metallic warmth of the pin weighed heavy on your conscious. "I don't wish to hurt you. And if I do this, you'll punish me."

"I lied. Pierce me for all I care. You are mad like me.” His blazed eyes hunger for the fear in yours “Your punishment will be a light one."

You shook your head, "No! No no no. I want to let this go! Let's enjoy the food and the fireworks. Please!" Before you could yank your arm away, your God gripped tight enough to bruise. With full awareness, you watched as Sukuna used your hand to shove the pin repeatedly into his chest.

At first, the skin doesn't break. Your hand throbbed from the forced handle you had to take. Your arms ached all over as you tried pulling away from the slashing. Screaming felt foreign but not unheard of coming from your throat. Moments like theses caused your mind to wonder. Were those cries even yours or someone else's? A spectator could be in the woods regarding the nakedness of your skin.

They could be the one screaming. The spectator has front-row seats to view the enormous stomach mouth gulp down blood. Or they were the one fighting, not you, to get away from Your God.

"Su-uuh kuna! Wh- why, why! Why are you doing this!?" You bellowed through gritted teeth, smacking against his chest. 

"What did I even do wrong?" You felt the crash of your lungs. You felt the heaviness of your knees losing balance on the pavement which caused you to smack into Sukuna's right thigh. Your face felt hot. "I can't be mad! I don't have the right!" You shook your head, whipping hair everywhere. Snot ran down to your lips as you kept screaming. "I don't care if you lied! Why should I! I'm nothing more than a pet who would be nothing without their god!"

Sukuna squeezed your hand as he pushed the sharp pin in one last time before ripping your arms away. You fell backwards. catching yourself on the step below you. Your main find at last year's market, the black rose pin, looked dimmed when coated in blood. It stuck out of your God's chest where it rises and falls to the normal beat of his lungs. Whatever compelled you to buy the article of jewelry made you gag into your hands.

"Pet, I hate these excursions of yours. You know that."

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Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo!

Happy New Years

[yujinslovr]

gp!yujin x fem!reader

warnings: smut, degrading, humiliation, bullying, sex in a public setting, facefucking, dub con, breeding kink, lmk if there's anything else!

genre: smut, literally js smut

synopsis: you had bullied yujin for as long as you'd known her, one day she finally had enough of it.

y/n l/n, the person yujin held the most hatred for. you had bullied yujin, for a reason unknown to her. she hated you so much, who were you to fucking bully her. always teasing her for being a virgin, for never having dated anyone. she wanted to fucking ruin you.

“hey yujin, still haven't found someone to stick your small dick in?” you asked with a giggle, surrounded by your friends. 

yujin wanted so badly to respond to the insult, but she knew she couldn't. not when she was in the school on scholarship and you were the principal's daughter. she had once made the mistake of insulting you back and ended up with a suspension. she couldn’t risk losing her scholarship, even if that meant taking your bullshit. knowing she couldn't respond, she opted to walk away, ignoring you. 

“hey ahn, i'm talking to you!” you said, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around. 

“you can continue your one-sided conversation, i'm not stopping you.” yujin said, pulling her shoulder out of your grasp and walking away. 

one day she would get her revenge.

yujin had stayed late at school tonight, opting to stay and study in the school library. on her way out of the library she saw you, all alone just standing in the hallway. the entire school was empty, everyone having left due to how late it was. because of the school being deserted you easily noticed that yujin was standing in front of the library. 

“still haven't found a girl willing to torture them self by having sex with you?” you called out to her. 

in that moment yujin saw red, she was so tired of listening to your bullshit. now that no one was here to back you up, yujin saw it as an opportunity, one to put you in your place. She stomped over to you, grabbed your arm, and dragged you to an abandoned staircase. 

“what the fuck?!” you exclaimed attempting to pull your arm from her grasp. unluckily for you, she was much stronger and in response to your attempt she simply pulled you closer. 

her hand dropped from your arm and went to grip your waist, barely an inch left in between you two. “why’re you always talking about me fucking someone? if you want me to fuck you, just say it.” yujin whispered into your ear.

“w-why would i wanna have sex with you, i bet you have a small ass dick.” you stuttered out, pulling away from her grasp, face flushed. 

instead of responding, yujin simply pulled down her pants and boxers, pulling her flaccid cock out. “still gonna say it’s small?” yujin said, a smug smirk on her face. 

your eyes widened at the sight, if this was her when she was soft how big was she when hard? your eyes couldn't leave yujin’s cock, genuinely wondering how she hid that monster. what you were staring at was at least 7 and 1⁄2 inches which you were sure was well above average. you could feel your panties dampening at the sight of the cock, your thoughts wondering. 

seeing your flustered yet surprised state made yujin’s smirk grow, she had no doubt that this was the last time you’d ever call her small. “still, dont wanna have sex with me?” yujin said, her voice dripping with confidence. you wanted to say no, you had too much of an ego to agree but you so badly wanted her. 

settling with shaking your head, you did so with your eyes still on her crotch. yujin decided now would be when she got her revenge so in spite of you shaking your head she reached her hand to your head and pushed you down to your knees. “hmm but i want you to suck my dick.” yujin said, holding her cock in her hand and tapping your lips with it.

you knew she wanted you to open your mouth but you refused to give her the satisfaction. seeing your resistance, yujin pushed her member further into your lips, spreading her precum on your lips. the whole act was incredibly degrading. you hated yourself for enjoying this, you didn't let your enjoyment display on your features though. you refused to give her the satisfaction.

as much as you didnt want to, you attempted to stand up, and seeing this yujin’s other hand went to your head, pushing you back down. yujin let go of her dick and used her hand to squeeze your cheeks together, forcefully opening your mouth. the force she put on your cheeks hurt but you refused to show it. with your mouth now open, yujin pushed her cock into it. 

you didn't show any resistance, simply letting it sit on your tongue. seeing that you weren't doing anything, yujin took it upon herself to use your throat. after all, you deserved this. she pulled out of your mouth and in one swift move she buried herself fully into your mouth. tears spilled from your eyes as you gagged and choked on her dick. you tried to pull away but her hand threaded in your hair stopped you from doing so, keeping you in place. 

and just like she was in, she was out. her grunts and your gags being the only things heard in the dark stairway. she continued thrusting into your mouth, using your throat as a fleshlight. there were tears streaming down your face, and drool leaking from your mouth. yujin almost came when she looked down at you, you were a mess. yujin thought you looked prettiest like this, a mess all for her. 

“how many– dicks have you taken down this— slutty throat of yours?” yujin said in between grunts. ‘none’ you attempted to say, but it was muffled by her cock being down your throat. It was true though, you were a complete virgin, you were saving yourself for marriage. “oh that’s right, you can't talk, not with your throat stuffed with cock.” yujin said condescendingly. 

oh how you hated her

as much as you did though, you could not deny the fact that your panties were currently soaked. your body moving against your will as you humped the ground desperately seeking friction. seeing this yujin laughed at you, “it turns you on doesn't it? me using your throat like this?” yujin said as she laughed on about your current state.

“does the bitch wanna cum?” yujin said in a baby voice accompanied by a pout, mocking you. 

you had never been in a more humiliating situation, you wanted to shake your head no. but your head moved of its own accord, nodding. seeing this yujin let out another laugh “aww, but only good girls get to cum.” yujin said, a pout following her words. she was very clearly mocking you but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

hearing you attempt to say something, yujin pulled out for a moment allowing you to speak. “fuck you.” you spat out, holding her gaze. “good girls don't curse.” yujin gritted out, tugging on your hair hard, making you wince. “y’know, i was gonna be nice to you if you listened, but now that you're being a brat i guess i need to teach you a lesson.”

feeling that she’d come soon, yujin quickly increased her roughness and pace. soon enough, she let go. allowing herself to cum, letting out a spurt in your mouth before pulling out and painting your face with her cum. you wanted to spit it out, the taste of her cum being bitter and salty. you went to spit but yujin pinched your lips together, not allowing you to. 

“swallow.” and not having much of a choice, you reluctantly swallowed. 

thinking she was done with you, you went to stand up but were once again pushed back down. this time she pushed you all the way down, so you were now laying on the floor. “ew, i'm not laying on the dirty ass floor.” you said trying to get up. your attempt proved to be futile, ending with her pushing you back down. “maybe if you were good i would've given you something to lay on.”

much to your luck though, yujin wasn't heartless and flipped you over so that your head was no longer on the floor, and you were on your hands and knees. yujin reached for your skirt and pulled it off along with your panties. a string of slick connecting your core to your panties as she pulled them off. “fucking slut, getting off on me using your mouth.” 

yujin reached for your core, swiping two fingers through it. when she retracted her fingers she found them completely covered. she shoved her fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. she moved her fingers around in your mouth, cleaning them with your spit before taking them out of your mouth. in one unexpected move, yujin fully thrust into you. you let out a scream at the intrusion, along with the pain of your hymen breaking. “shit, why is there blood?” yujin said as she saw the blood coming out of you. “im a fucking virgin dumbass.” you responded, annoyed and still in pain. 

“what the fuck?! then why do you always comment on me being one?” yujin said incredulously

“It's different, you have a dick.” you responded with.

your response only ignited the flame in yujin, once again filling her with anger. “fucking bitch.” yujin said, any sympathy she had for you along with the thoughts of going easy diminishing. almost right after she said the words she pulled out of you and slammed back in, not allowing you more than a minute to adjust to her size. 

“w-wait! i-it hurts, slow down!” you yelled out, the burn from her size intensifying with her rough moves. “deal with it, bitch.” yujin said in reply not slowing down for a second. 

it hadn't been more than a few minutes, but yujin could already feel the familiar tightening in her balls. this was her first time after all, and it was so much better than she ever would've imagined. your cunt was so hot and wet, your walls squeezing her evoking more pleasure than she thought possible. she broke out of her thoughts when she felt herself on the verge of cumming, remembering you. 

she slowed down, and brought two fingers to your mouth, shoving them inside. she allowed you to wet her fingers with your saliva and then brought them down to your clit. from all the porn she had watched she figured that this would help you get off too. when her hand came into contact with the small nub you let out the loudest moan she had heard yet. she started to circle it with her fingers while continuously pounding into you. 

she felt you tighten even more around her when she started to stimulate your clit, figuring this meant you might be close. yujin leaned over your body, panting into your ear, “I'm gonna cum in your tight cunt.” she breathed out. 

at this you started to panic, you never thought you’d have sex so you never started birth control. “i-im not on the pill, y-you can't.” you panted out half heartedly. of course you didn't want to get pregnant, but the thought of her cumming in you for some reason turned you on. “even better, the whole school will know that not only are you a slut, but that you're my slut.” this made you sob even harder, but your body going against your brain, clenched when she said those words. 

you heard yujin mutter out a few curses, at you tightening around her probably. “fucking whore, you’d like that wouldnt you? hm? want me to fill you with my cum? wan’ me to breed this tight pussy of yours?” yujin grunted into your ear, causing a moan to leave your mouth. you’d never admit it out loud, but you so desperately wanted her to do so. 

yujin’s pace increased, along with her fingers on your clit as she felt like she could no longer hold it. along with her, you were also approaching your edge faster, the more she stimulated you. with one last thrust, yujin buried herself deep in you, the tip of her long cock kissing your cervix. you moaned out at the feeling of her filling you with her cum, the warm liquid filling your insides. the feeling of her cum in you, sent you flying over the edge, cumming along with her. 

after emptying herself in you she slumped against your body causing you to collapse on the floor with her on top of you. she turned to lay next to you as you both stared at the ceiling, finally processing what had happened between you two. her now soft cock was still buried in you, stopping the mixed cum from exiting. 

after a few minutes of laying there, she pulled out (earning a moan from you), stood up and started to redress. “what happens if i get pregnant?” you said, your voice rough from all the screaming. “not my problem.” yujin said indifferently, picking up her phone and snapping a picture of you before throwing you her jacket. 

seeing her take a picture of you you quickly tried to cover yourself but it proved futile as she still got the photo. she turned her phone and showed you the photo “try to say shit to me again, i dare you.” she said waving her phone in your face, you trying to grab it. 

“fuck you.” you seethed, sitting up and covering yourself with her jacket.

she didn't respond, simply turning and walking away, leaving you alone on the empty dark staircase. 

[juuuulez]

📰 | part two: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, female reader, father-figure Negan, enemies to lovers, forbidden romance, no use of (y/n) because immersion.

summary: During your first visit to Alexandria, when Carl misfires a gun, you’re instructed to “babysit” him. This does not go very well.

previous | next

I’m glad everyone liked the first part!! This one is definitely more juicy. Kids being kids. Writing the next part now, let me know if you have any particular requests!

Also (finally) titled!! Drawing heavily on Romeo and Juliet, except… more spiteful at the beginning.

A few days later, and you’re back.

The town of Alexandria is actually quite nice, when you aren’t being cooped up in a cell.

Your fellow Saviours seem to think so too, exploring the place, taking supplies they deem useful for the Sanctuary. After all, there’s mouths to feed, therefore you’ve stopped feeling bad for all these communities you bleed dry.

Well, you felt a little bad last night.

The lineup was rough, it always is. You hadn’t seen the brunt of it, instead sitting safe in the RV where Negan had all but interrogated you regarding your time locked up; coming from a place of concern for your well-being. But you stepped out just as dawn was beginning to hit, and saw the aftermath.

It was just for a few seconds, to retrieve a weapon from Dwight, but you felt a twinge of guilt as Negan taunted that poor boy.

At least he wasn’t wearing the stupid hat anymore.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you told yourself. Guilt had no place in the apocalypse, especially not for the Saviours, a group of well earned apex predators in this bleak world.

That’s how you saw it.

You oversee the work of your people whilst Negan is talking with Rick. Everybody respects you.. or maybe everybody is scared of you. Scared of your father. Either way, it works.

You’re comfortable as a leader. Somebody who can give orders without hesitation. At the start, there was resistance. Who wanted to be ordered around by a teenage girl? But eventually everything fell into place, and people realised that you were a central part to this operation.

Then the sound of a gunshot rings through the air, putting everybody on edge. Weapons suddenly unholstered, dropping whatever menial task they were completing.

You command them to stand down with a wave of the hand, going to investigate yourself.

Fortunately enough, the situation has already been handled.

Or mostly handled.

“Just who I wanted to see.” Negan says with his usual prowess, however it’s dimmed by an underlying irritation. He brings you further into the room with a gloved hand on your shoulder.

He positions you there like a prize, something valuable. Or maybe a dangerous weapon. A constant show of ‘look at what’s mine, look at what she can do.’ You quite like that.

“Now, it appears that young Grimes is too trigger-happy for his own good,” Negan continues, to which you finally notice Carl standing in the middle of the room, “So why don’t you babysit him for me, darling?”

The boy is practically seething. That same expression you’d seen at the lineup, pure anger and rebellion.

You could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“Of course,” You agree, a grin spreading across your lips, “I’d appreciate a tour, to see if anything here interests me.”

There’s no reply. Carl glares at you, then shoots a pleading look at his father, but to no avail. Rick nods his head in the direction of the door, and you feel like you’ve just won the lottery. This was going to be good.

Now, you didn’t enjoy toying with peoples emotions, per-say. But getting them all riled up sure was fun.

And a teenage boy? This was like a gift from above.

Grown men grew tired of your commanding nature, they’d get violent, speak out of line. It was a dangerous game, one that you loved. Like a cat and mouse, or Icarus flying too close to the sun.

A teenage boy was much more in your ballpark.

“You play sports?” You ask Carl, who is walking a few paces behind you, begrudgingly following despite the fact he was meant to be showing you around. But you didn’t mind.

He doesn’t answer.

You turn to face him, shooting him a backwards glare of what the hell is your problem. “What, you took a vow of silence, or something?” It’s snarky, immature, prodding the bear.

But it works.

“No, I don’t play sports.” Carl answers reluctantly, his tone flat and unamused. It’s becoming more and more evident that when you’re in power like this, in control, you can be a nightmare.

You don’t bother to suppress your grin of satisfaction, turning back away from him, “Yeah, didn’t think so, stringbean. Bet I’ve got more muscle mass than you.”

This must do something, as suddenly Carl has closed the few paces between you, and is blocking your path from continuing. He’s in your face, closer than comfortable, but you love it.

“What the hell’s your problem?” He asks, clearly angry at your snide little comments. That righteous attitude is back. “You can’t come in here, and tell everybody what to do. We’re gonna fight back, and when we do, you’ll be sorry.”

You give him a firm shove, letting Carl stumble a few feet back, “Yeah, how’d that go for you back there, huh? Aim much?”

It’s a low blow, you know that, which is why it feels so goddamn good.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him.

“Didn’t shoot me at the satellite station, either. I’m starting to think you’re more harmless than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not exactly in the interest of murdering children,” Carl retorts angrily, “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen!” You yell back at him, walking swiftly past the boy, but making sure to harshly bump your shoulders together. “Now show me your armoury. You’ve got something of mine.”

You’re walking too quickly for Carl to shoot back a comment, and he needs to awkwardly skip in order to catch up. This time he takes a few strides forward, making the effort to walk just fast enough to stay in front of you.

He wants to be in charge.

Luckily, you love to be petty.

As the pair of you reach the armoury, you swiftly side-step Carl, entering the room first, much to his dismay. You’re eyes are scanning the shelves, rows and rows of guns and weaponry, with one thing in mind. The bat.

“Too bad we’re confiscating all your guns, this is quite the collection,” You comment, finding a supply sheet to glance over, “Good job on that one, by the way. Aren’t you helpful?”

Carl essentially ignores your sarcasm, speaking from the other side of the room, “Looking for something?”

You turn, a momentary flash of confusion on your face, until you realise that he’s got it. The metal bat clutched in one hand, held up tauntingly. When you take a step forward to retrieve it, he only takes a step back.

“That’s not funny.” You say, a sense of agitation in your tone, that dominant and teasing persona gone in an instant.

It only causes Carl to grin, taking pleasure in this momentary inch of power he’s gained.

“You even know how to play baseball?” He asks, switching the bat into his dominant hand, pretending to slowly swing it.

“I do, actually,” You snap, reaching out to finally grasp the metal bat, taking it from his grip unceremoniously, “Wanna see? I can use your skull as the ball.”

This works to shut him up, judging by how Carl’s eyes narrow into a glare, but he doesn’t dare to say anything. You take this as a victory, once again knocking shoulders as you leave the small space, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

You’re not even a few meters down the street before there are footsteps again, Carl still following you, despite wanting otherwise. It makes that malicious grin to return.

“Aren’t you obedient?” You quip, not even bothering to look back at him as you speak, as if he isn’t worth the time. It’s a power trip, one you’re addicted to, one Carl is unknowingly feeding into. Or, maybe he does know, but can’t do anything about it.

Carl scoffs, “Coming from you. Do you always do everything Negan tells you to?”

It’s smart, getting you to roll your eyes in displeasure, that metal bat swinging by your side as you walk. “It’s called being a good soldier, like you would understand.”

“Yeah? Soldier, or pet?” He continues, and you can basically hear the grin in his voice.

The fuck does he know?

You finally spin around, grip tightening ever so slightly on the bat. Control is slowly slipping through your fingers, this stupid back and forth game beginning to get on your nerves, despite being the instigator.

“You wanna talk about pet?” You spit, closing in on his personal space, “Rick tells you to murder twenty people, and you do it? That’s called being a little bitch, okay, daddy’s boy?”

This works, as Carl’s face twists into a look of anger, his fists clenching at his sides.

But you continue, “This stupid group has had this coming for a long time. There’s no such thing as being the good guys, you’re just another bunch of stupid pricks, who need to be put in their place.”

It snaps something inside of Carl, because suddenly he’s giving you a harsh shove, where you stumble a few feet backwards. You mirror his childish temper, throwing your body at him with equal force, where the two of you awkwardly wrestle in the middle of the street.

You attempt to gain leverage, steeling your feet into the ground, bending your knees. Then, out of nowhere, you’re raising your arm with the bat, ready to try and dislocate his shoulder, or something. Anything. Just to show that you aren’t weak.

But before you can swing, there’s resistance, and you snap out of this little squabble to realise that somebody else is holding your bat.

“The hell are you doin’, girl?”

Negan swiftly lifts the bat from your grip, holding it at an arms length. You let go of Carl, whipping around to glare at the older man.

“He’s being a total jagoff!” You shout, twisting to see a similar look of discontent on Carl’s face, like he’s itching to leap back into your little fight.

It’s no use, because then Negan is holding your shoulder, giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction, “Truck, now. We’re making our departure.”

And you listen, despite everything telling you to continue. To prove yourself, maintain that power.

To make matters worse, Carl has taken this experience as some sort of mental victory, yelling out from the footpath, “Daddy’s girl!”

You can only turn, angrily giving him the finger as you storm off towards the gates, but it acts as fuel to the fire. Getting sick of that stupid expression, you turn back away, footsteps quickening in an attempt to seperate yourself from the ever so slightly humiliating experience.

Next time you’ll get him.

[peaches2217]

Peach is asleep in her favorite chaise. A book laying open in the floor, its pages splayed over the tiles, hints at an earlier attempt to keep herself awake with some light reading, but now she's curled up on soft pink cushions without a care in the world. Her crown is at the foot of the chaise alongside her bright red pumps; stockinged feet poke out from beneath her petticoats, her toes periodically wiggling in her sleep; one arm supports her head against the arm of the chaise, and the other is draped over her midsection.

A spring breeze blows in through an open window, tousling her hair. Her nose twitches at the ticklish strands that splay across her face, and then she draws her knees closer with a contented sigh, the arm around her midriff curling in tighter.

Mario has never understood the phenomenon of cuteness aggression so well as he does now. He wants to fell an oak with his bare hands, repeatedly slam his full weight into the nearest immovable obstacle, maybe punch a god in the face, all so she can continue to rest undisturbed in peaceful stillness.

Of course, none of that aggression actually manifests as he approaches her. He actually feels quite weak the closer he gets. She’s understandably expressed frustration at her recent sleepy spells  — nurturing life or not, she’s still a monarch, she can’t just nap whenever it suits her — so to see her so serene, the smallest of smiles gracing her plush lips, makes Mario want to melt into a big, goopy puddle. She deserves this. She deserves this and so much more.

He kneels beside her and kisses her forehead softly. The thought of waking her would be unbearable if not for the promise of pampering her and making her far more comfortable. Call it a necessary evil.

“Hey.” He brushes golden flyaways from her face, tucking them behind her ear. “Hey, you’re gonna be all sore in the morning if you sleep here, yeah? Wakey-wakey, Princess.”

His Princess, the benevolent and regal Mushroom Queen, furrows her brows and grumbles her disapproval. Though she leans into his touch on instinct, the rest of her body withdraws in protest. The arm supporting her head joins her opposite arm as she readjusts, and then her cheek is smushed against the chaise, one hand absently rubbing her stomach as she cradles it in her forearms.

Mario, not normally one for tears, has never felt the urge to fall to his knees and weep so strongly in all his life. The fact that he’s already on his knees is his one saving grace. How can any one person be so perfect?

“Peachyyyyy,” he sing-songs, already slipping his arms beneath her knees and back.

“Mmmryuuoooh,” she groans in response.

In one smooth movement, he hoists her from the chaise and stands to his feet, leaning back a bit so she can remain comfortably reclined against him. Her arms wrap easily around his neck as he carries her to their room, her cheek against his, and he can’t resist planting a few kisses to that cheek between the chaise and the bed. She giggles beneath his affections and mutters something about his mustache, and though Mario utters an apology in turn, he can’t really say he’s sorry in the slightest.

She doesn’t let go when he tries to lay her on the bedcovers. Instead, she hangs on tighter, and though he could still break away easily, Mario won’t even entertain the thought. He instead coaxes her into sitting on the mattress while still leaning against him, and he blindly works the buttons of her dress; only when the last button pops open at his fingertips does Peach relax her hold, allowing him to pull the puffy pink garment from her body and discard it thoughtlessly on the floor.

He repeats the process with her petticoats, then her brassiere, and only then does she lay back against the sheets. Thoroughly spent in spite of her lack of effort, she pushes her cheek into her pillow with a quiet sigh. It takes every ounce of self-restraint Mario possesses to keep from leaning over her immediately and peppering her tired face in kisses.

“Don’t move,” he says instead, tapping the tip of her nose. Another smile plays on her lips as she hums in acknowledgement.

Within a few more minutes, he helps her into a silky nightgown and lays her back down, where she lifts her arms so he can tuck the blankets over her relaxed form. One hand, predictably, comes to rest on her stomach, and the other, almost as predictably, finds one of his hands.

Lacing their fingers together, Mario takes a moment to glance down at where her opposite palm lies. The swell in her abdomen is only noticeable when her spine is straight and her clothes are form-fitting or gone entirely, and even then, it’s not readily identifiable for what it is. Yet ever since discovering it in the bathroom mirror last week, her hands scarcely leave that swell when she’s alone or when it’s just the two of them. He’s even caught her clasping her hands lower than usual while within the public eye, hovering as close as possible without giving away the as-of-now secret that she’s carrying their child.

She’s carrying their child. Wow. Why does the notion still feel so surreal? He’s known this for nearly a month now, yet still his thoughts are consumed with her alone. It’s bound to sink in eventually, right?

“Need anything?” he asks. “Water? Heating pad? A massage?”

Peach doesn’t answer. The slow rise and fall of her chest informs Mario that she’s already dozed off again.

Still, he can’t bring himself to move just yet. He rubs circles into her hand with his thumb, staring for a while at her peaceful, rosy complexion. What more can he do? He wants to draw a piping hot bubble bath for her and brush her hair while she soaks, he wants to carry her in his arms so she needn’t waste energy on walking, he wants to bear the world and all its hardships on his shoulders so she can remain as she is now, healthy and happy and resting blissfully.

After all, growing a tiny human is a tough job. She’s got her work cut out for her. And already she’s falling so easily into the role of a mother, loving and devoted…

Gingerly, he leans over to kiss the space between her eyebrows, resting his palm atop the hand on her belly. “I love you,” he whispers against her skin, and he realizes, maybe for the first time, that he’s not just saying it to her alone.

He’s not sure what to make of the feeling that rises within him — it feels vaguely similar to what he calls cuteness aggression, that mixed desire to melt into a puddle of fondness and good feelings while taking on an army with nothing more than his fists. Maybe it’s love, he thinks as he withdraws, his hands lingering a moment longer. A love that’s neither platonic nor romantic nor fraternal. A love unlike any he’s experienced yet.

Maybe this is the fabled love of a father.

That thought echoes through his mind long after he turns from them, and as he hurries to change clothes so he can join them in bed, he finds that suddenly he can’t stop smiling.

[marejuka]

Dreams that made me soaked

TW;CNC,Degraiding💛🧡🖤

Concept:older brother from bully victim makes you regrett your behavior

Following of part one

"Come in,you might like this"

his voice sounded spiteful, my heart was racing. hopefully the two of them didn't tell anyone what was going on here

The brother entered the room and immediately smiled nasty. The guy above me got up but when i tried to do the same he pressed me with one hand on his bed.

"Remember the girl i told you about? The small girl that keeps making fun of me?" His brother nodded at his Statement and got closer to the bed and me.I writhed under his hand and tried to get free but he was too strong seemed like he didnt even notice my struggle.

His hand wanders once again to my neck so his brother has free access to touch my breasts. His touche Was rougher than his little brothers. My whimpers just made him go rougher on my titts,his huge hands fit perfectly on my tits. "apparently what he told me isn't true, you seem to be as tame as a lamb" my moans got Hotter every second that he groped me. I held on to the younger man's arm, he looked down on me and watched me like a predetor.

my instinct became stronger than my understanding , the unpleasant moisture between my legs became unbearable

My hand slid down my body and between my legs. Both guys towered over me,looked down on me in Lust and desire. It made me so dizzy in my head and my body so hot. I felt pathetic fingering my pussy but it all felt so good I couldn't resist.

I saw that the younger brother Was stroking his cock trough his pants and the older grinded slightly on my tigh. I closed my eyes and felt my dress being pulled down being completely naked in front of them made my pussy even more wet.

the big brother took out his dick and rubbed it on my naked leg,his hands let go of my breats and caressed my body Till he got down to my cunt. His long Fingers played around my entrance,the Touch gave me goosebumps. It felt like a dream when he entered my pussy with his Fingers. He was much taller than his lil brother. I felt like his playtoy, after I opened my eyes I saw the face of the boy who let go of my neck and turned to his dick. He looked down at me and then again at the hairbrush.

"Do you think that shes too tight for Real fcking?"

His brother laughed and nodded,his one Finger was already really filling for me and he could tell too.I looked at them in fear of being Degraided like that. i heard the younger man talk about getting me used to a bigger size and immediately tried to convince them that this doesn't have to happen and that I can just give them both a blowjob. They didnt seem to care at all. my efforts remained in vain,I was turned onto my stomach and pulled by my hair onto all fours. My pleas and whimpers got whinier too the point the older brother spanked my ass so hard i couldnt say a word anymore.

The older guy looked at his younger and shy brother that still wasnt doing anything else but rocking his dick."Stop being such a burden here, you can do anything you want with her,if not get out and let me have a good time alone with her" his harsh words got him out of his trance and he kissed me The raspy voice between my legs sounded again "now your gonna feel a little stretched Baby" the boy kissing took my wrists and pressed them above my head without stopping sucking on my lips "please stop"my whiny voice encouraged him even more.

When the first centimetres penetrated me it felt painful like a burning sensation, i couldnt keep myself from moaning in the boys mouth.

it went deeper and deeper until i felt it in my belly,my eyes rolled into the back of my head and my moans got louder and high pitchted.

I could feel the younger man smile while kissing me. the older carassed my tummy while slowly moving the brush, the pain turned into embarrassing pleasure. i didnt care anymore how pathetic i look underneath both men, the wet sounds that comes from my pussy didnt make me nervous but a little degraided.

His thrusts got harder and harder till i couldnt contain myself from straight up whining,the brush stretched me out so hard and the rough thrusts hurt my climax. the young brother got up,still holding my wrists and looking down on my face distorted with pain and lust. He was out of breath and red in his shy face.

"please your too rough, it hurt so bad!.. im so sorry i was mean okay?" My pleading was useless, the torture continued.

"get out my way,i wanna see her face" the older rammed his brother out of the field of vision of my face. he now towered over me,knocked the hands of the younger one off my hands so that my arms were free to grip his broad shoulders. i arched my back as he rammed the brush harder in my tight pussy "ahhh it feels so big daddy aah pls ur so rough with me" my begging turned him on so much that his dick was rockhard on his tummy. The first slap that got on my face didnt really hurt or shock me.

But the second stung and third burned. I tried to hide my face, but when I did I got a slap on my lower belly,that was even worse because it made the aching worse from the thrusting. Crying was my last espace i tought and the same second i thought about the first tear rolled down my face. "Sniff please ill be good, stop beating me up pleasee" it didnt seem to affect him and his cold voice reinforced his desire to hurt me Physical "So you think crying like a btch will get you out here? fck you look so sweet and submissive.. i love girls like you"

I looked to the side, with each hit I whimpered and gave up more and more. his hand then closed around my thin neck and squeezed, harder than his brother who just sat next to us and masturbated the whole time. he rammed me even harder so that i started to press my nails into his broad upper arms. my moans had turned into agonised whimpers. despite my pain, i felt my orgasm coming, the shame coming over me. ‹ i can't come from something like this ..›

But my body didn't listen to my mind and soon afterwards I came to the end of the painful sensation. looking down i could see that i had squirted on his hand. the older brother pulled out the brush, it was soaking wet and dripping. he smiled down me and tapped me lightly on my chin.

"maybe you forget about my useless brother and come to my room when we have a party again little slut"

‹damn, i totally forgot that there was a party going on here›

the big brother had gone into the bathroom to do god knows what.

I quickly got dressed, the boy who was so brave earlier and then was pushed away by his brother was still sitting on the bed. He had climaxed at some point and now looked a bit lost

"im sorry i was so mean.. i hope you still are happy with this.." my voice was uncertain.

i gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and limped out the room, even tho my legs were still a lil shaking.

[usmsgutterson]

Hi! Could I request an Aaron Warner x fem!reader where reader is always flustered when Aaron flirts with her and one day she flirts back with Kenji. Aaron is frustrated (and obv jealous), he didn’t know it was a joke between them and he confronts her about it. This time she’s the one teasing him cause he’s jealous and then LOVE CONFESSIONNN

Thank you!! And sorry if it’s too long

So Am I- A.W x fem! reader

All right, hi! Again, I am so sorry about how long this took and I hope you like it in spite of that.

As I did with your last request, this is a headcanon/fic combo--I wrote out the headcanons first and then turned the confession into a fic because writing it that way is just easier on me when my motivation is somewhat lacking lol

Fic type- this is fluff with angst but only if you squint

Warnings- none!

Okay, so!!

You and Kenji are exactly the kind of friends who flirt but like,, platonically

it's never anything too serious--at most, it's typically just stuff like: "Lookin' good, L/N!" or just random compliments, the occasional wink here or there

also, on another note, Kenji is definitely the type of person to either bring up or agree to marry his best friend if they're both still single at 30

it's lighthearted bantering that you guys do for the hell of it, and it generally gave you both a bit of a laugh so it brightened the mood significantly while you were with him when things got bad at Omega Point and stuff with the Resistance

HOWEVER

when Aaron flirts with you???

it's not platonic (you're in love with him)

it's never platonic (he's also very deeply in love with you)

you ALWAYS, ALWAYS get just a bit flustered around him

kenji teases you for it RELENTLESSLY too because he finds it to be the funniest thing in the world??

"C'mon, Y/N! Warner saying that your eyes look nice in the sun can't just be platonic. He's in love with you and he's flirting! Flirt back and let me officiate your wedding."

"Did Warner flirt with you again??" He asked one time as he caught Aarons back fading from view as he walked away and noticed you standing there, a loving look in your gaze as you watched him go. "Oh, shit, Y/N. You are in so deep."

Warner doesn't really know that you and Kenji flirt platonically, so when he does hear that for the first time, this is how it goes:

"Lookin' good, L/N!" Kenji called out as the two of you passed each other in a hallway, Kenji likely going to visit Castle while you were in search of his daughter.

"This from you, Kenji? You look flawless."

TO YOU, that was where the interaction ended--a bit of harmless flirting, words of encouragement to keep one another on your feet.

whereas warner?? warner was like "Okay, gotta confess my feelings now and see where that goes."

He, however, is a gentleman who finds you in your room that night, and the confession goes as well as Aaron could've hoped--better than that.

Aaron finds you in your room, back against the wall, blanket tossed over your lap and a book in hand. A candle had been lit to keep the room lit well after you were meant to have been sleeping, and when you saw him enter after knocking and you'd said it was fine, you gave him a grin and set the book in your lap.

"Hi," you greet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Aaron says, closing the door behind him as he steps into the room. "I have something to talk about, is all."

You glance at your book, and Aaron has to fight a grin as he watches you grimace at the cover.

"This book sucks anyway," you tell him, nodding. "Say your peace, please. Anything to distract me from this god awful prose."

Aaron laughs, and your heart gives way to a funny little flip.

"I love you," he says, figuring it best to just rip the bandaid off. "I'm in love with you, and I have been practically since we met. I was content to just wallow in it forever but you and Kenji were flirting and my insecurities got the best of me, so here I am, pouring my heart out like some fool in a romance novel."

"Aaron," you say, laughing a little as you say his name. "Kenji and I aren't romantically involved, I promise. We flirt from time to time but that's just been something we've done all our friendship--it's kept spirits up in the worst of times because we find it hilarious. I'm in love with you too, and I tended not to engage with your flirting because every time you flirted, my heart kicked off into a racing pace and I almost forgot how to breathe."

Aaron can't help the way that his eyebrows raise or the surprised expression on his face, which makes you laugh and in turn makes his heart race just a bit.

"Do you want to stay the night?" You ask. "We can talk, maybe go to see if theres any tea left in the kitchens."

Aaron steps forward, takes your hands and sits down beside you on your bed, glad that he'd decided to change into sweatpants and a shirt before coming to confess his feelings.

"Kenji is going to lose his mind," you say, laughing a bit as Aaron wraps an arm around your shoulder and you let him pull you close. "He's been telling me to get on with it for a year at this point, to confess my feelings, but I've not found the strength. I was afraid I wouldn't adequately be able to put it into words."

Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, laughing just a bit in turn.

"I didn't do so much better," he comments. "Glad I did it though."

You hum, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "So am I."

[im-a-wonderling]

Rescue Me, Part 4 ~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

If I didn't have @writing-on-the-wahl's help, this part would've taken so much longer and would've been so much worse. As always, my friend, you are an angel, and I adore you.

Summary: Now a Jedi Knight with her own padawan, Y/N gets an individual mission unlike anything she's done before.

Warnings: Yeah, this one's dark, so bodily harm and mortal peril and possibly more?

Word count: 9.8k

Rescue Me masterlist | Main masterlist

“Why does the council want to see us?” Ghon asked, keeping up with my brisk pace as best he could in spite of his tiny stature. It likely looked comical, but none of the Jedi we passed gave us a second glance. 

We’d landed on Coruscant not ten minutes before, and the waiting attendant had immediately informed us the Jedi Council was waiting.

The guilt of dulling my feelings for Ghon’s benefit weighed on my mind, but my padawan didn’t deserve to feel my anxiety as well as his own. Perhaps a day was coming where I would be able to stand in front of the council with confidence, but it wasn’t coming any time soon. “Likely to debrief us on our mission and brief us for the next one,” I replied, answering his question as calmly as I could. 

Ghon frowned. “But we just got back!”

I didn’t bother admonishing him for the complaint, not when I was also weighed down with a fatigue that seeped through to my bones. There was very little time for rest since I’d become a Jedi Knight, and it was almost too much for me to handle at twenty-two years old. Ghon was only eleven. 

“Such is the way of war,” I sighed as we stopped in front of the sliding doors. As we waited to be called in, I resisted the urge to smooth down my robes. My appearance did not matter. In fact, the more ruffled I appeared, the more humble I appeared. 

The Force buzzed to my left, and I glanced at Ghon to see him chewing on his lip.

He’d barely qualified as a padawan, evident by his deep-seated need to please. He needed lots of encouragement, but he made it easy to give. Everything he needed to be doing, he was. If only he could believe it.

I reached out and tugged lightly on his braid, making him smile. I barely had time to drop my hand at my side again before the doors slid open.

Each face expectantly watching us featured grim expressions with worry lines. The tension in the room was palpable, and I knew it had everything to do with the war tearing the galaxy apart. Every Jedi felt it, the pain and death radiating off each planet, and there was no solace from it. 

But the most depressing sight was the empty seat.

The seat which had been empty the day I cut off my own padawan braid with my lightsaber, and empty every time after. I knew better than to ask. Once in a while, a story drifted my way of some daring escapade, and I would know that my old master was still alive. 

I couldn’t lament it, for it was as he said: this is what we were made for. 

I bowed once I reached the center of the room. “Masters.”

“Congratulations on your success on Rodia,” Master Mundi said, mustering a smile. “Senator Farr thanked us on behalf of his people.” 

Senator Farr, leader of the swampy, waterlogged planet of Rodia, reached out to the Republic to ask for aid after he defied the Trade Confederacy. The Republic obliged, sending relief aid in the form of supplies and a Jedi healer. 

Me. 

I inclined my head. “I was gratified to be of help.”

The Force rippled as the attention in the room shifted to the young man beside me. “And your padawan seems to be learning quickly,” Master Mundi added.

I opened my mouth to agree, but the words died.

The humming of a light. 

Instantly, my insides were all aflutter. I hadn’t felt that light in months, and yet I could never mistake it. On every planet I’d been dispatched to, I searched for it and never found it. The sparse amount of times I’d been on Coruscant even, the light was nowhere to be found.

But now there was no mistaking it: the light was here. The sensation grew steadily, the source far too close to be anywhere farther than Coruscant's atmosphere.

I looked around at the council members to see if they’d felt it too, but none of their signatures seemed any different than they had before. 

“Yes,” I cleared my throat, “he is eager and very intelligent. He was of great assistance on Rodia.” 

“You picked your padawan well,” Master Fisto said, smiling at Ghon. 

“That I’ve never doubted,” I managed to say in spite of the humming. Maybe they would think me arrogant for saying it, but I never wanted Ghon to feel he stood alone in front of the council. 

Master Windu leaned forward, dousing me in the full weight of his skepticism that momentarily drowned out the humming, bracing his elbows on his knees. “How is Padawan Ghon’s learning going?” The light drew nearer, its humming filling my ears like the buzzing wings of a Grutchin. Ghon shifted beside me, reminding me of the question. 

“All things considered, I couldn’t ask for more. I look forward to the day when he doesn’t have to learn during a war.”

“As do we all,” Master Mundi murmured. 

The light grew louder still, loud enough for me to hear the exhaustion and anxiety within it, echoing the stress already present in the room.

“And what does your padawan think?” Master Windu asked.

Overwhelmed by the light as I was through the Force, I could still feel the flash of uncertainty fill the room and knew the council could feel Ghon’s reaction as strongly as I did.

“It’s been an honor to learn under Y/F/N Y/L/N.” He lifted his chin even as his hands shook slightly. “I’ve learned much.”

The light was shouting now, making it impossible to perceive anything else. “Well, it seems you’re a good teacher,” Master Ti's lips formed, his voice lost within the volume of the Force.

And then the humming cut off, beautiful silence caressing me. And into the silence came the words: “I should hope so.”

My breath caught in my throat. That voice. I could be dead and buried six feet under the ground and still recognize it. Still want to run towards it. 

Slowly, with my heart hammering in my chest, I turned to look.

In the open doorway of the councilroom stood none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

His hair, neatly sheared, was far shorter. Instead of being combed back with the tips resting on his shoulders like normal, it laid on his head, making his forehead appear smaller. His beard, however, was fuller than before, giving his face a longer look. He too wore the worry lines every other master sported, far deeper than I'd last seen.

And yet with all the differences, his smile was the same as always. 

I almost started to greet him with an “old man” and a smile, but stopped myself. This was no longer my master with whom I could joke around with. This was a master, a member of the Jedi council who was only to be treated with respect and formality. “Master Kenobi,” I said. The honorific felt strange coming off my tongue.

His face pinched, as if the formality of his title filled him with as much strangeness as it did me.

“Ahhh, Kenobi,” Master Windu sounded about as pleased as he ever did, which wasn’t saying much. “Join us.”

Master Kenobi glanced over my shoulder at Master Windu and gave a quick nod, before brushing past me to sit in the empty seat. Remembering myself, I bowed respectfully, and Ghon followed suit as Master Kenobi settled into his seat.

“As it happens,” Mace Windu said, drawing my attention, “we have your next mission.”

Ghon straightened. “Are we going back to Rodia?”

“Appreciate the enthusiasm, we do, Padawan Ghon,” Yoda said, chuckling. “But a mission for your master alone, this is.” 

A mission of my own? If it was too dangerous for my padawan, was I capable of it myself? Ghon looked at me, the uncertainty lining his features reflecting what I felt in my gut. “There’ll be stuff for you to do,” I assured him in spite of my misgivings.

“I think Master Yoda could use some help with the younglings,” Master Fisto said kindly. “Until then, you can get food and perhaps some sleep.”

Ghon didn’t move. 

I nudged him, and he reluctantly bowed to the masters and left the council room. 

As soon as the doors shut, I turned back to Master Yoda. “What’s the mission?”

“To go undercover, you are.”

Surprise bloomed in my chest, but I remained silent, trusting the council to elaborate and alleviate my confusion. 

Master Koon leaned forward in his chair. “We’ve received intel of a Separatist trader that spends his evenings in one of the clubs here. We want you to meet him there for some business.” 

“I don’t have any experience with undercover work,” I said slowly, taking great care to sound confused and not defiant. 

“Experience you have not,” Master Yoda agreed. “Skills you do.”

“We would not have chosen you unless you were the best fit for the job.” Master Windu’s tone left no room for argument. “The Republic is running low on PLX-1 and PLX-4 missile launchers. We want you to make a deal with this trader.”

What? 

Paying for weapons? From a Separatist? 

This was not the kind of mission I’d expected. Master Windu continued, talking of the money I was to offer and how many launchers I was to ask for. I kept my eyes on him, but I shifted my focus to the no-longer-empty seat.

The turbulent light of Master Kenobi’s Force signature only made me more wary. 

“Conflicted you are,” Master Yoda said, drawing my attention. “Unsure of the mission’s integrity, hmmm?”

“It feels odd,” I said slowly, “to be a peacekeeper and be dealing weapons. Wouldn’t it be better if one of the senators met with this buyer?”

The light shifted slightly, a little more desperate than before. 

“We believe this buyer would prefer a transaction off the record,” Master Windu said. “We’ve also received intel that he prefers human women of a certain…physique.”

Discomfort roiled in my gut like acid. The council was giving me this mission because of my physique? “How dangerous is this man?” I asked carefully, and the light flickered. 

Master Windu’s impassive face did not inspire any confidence. “We have no reason to believe there’s any additional danger in this mission than any other.” Considering a significant amount of my missions involved outright combat, that wasn’t as reassuring as he likely meant it. Or perhaps he did not intend to comfort me at all. 

But Jedi were called to obey, regardless of and even in spite of comfort. 

“Wherever I’m needed,” I said slowly, meeting Master Yoda’s gaze, “I will go.”

The light flickered again, but I kept my attention on Master Yoda, who did not react. Master Windu sat back in his seat. “Then you are dismissed.”

I bowed and left the council room, mind buzzing. 

Ghon leaned against a wall outside the council room, eyes half-closed with exhaustion. He needed to sleep, and yet he was waiting for me. This would be our first time since becoming Padawan and Master that we would be separated. There was bound to be some strain. 

He stood straight when he saw me. 

I reached out to rest my hands on his shoulders. “It’ll be okay,” I said softly. “My mission won’t take very long, and then we’ll likely be off to the Outer Rim again.”

Ghon did not look comforted. “What will I do if it takes longer?” 

“There’s plenty to be learned right here,” I told him. “You can meditate, and there’s plenty of people for you to practice your swordplay with.” 

“But what if…it takes longer than that?”

I watched him, feeling the waves of anxiety pouring off of him and realizing it wasn’t just anxiety at being separated. “I will be alright, Ghon. You don’t have to fear for my safety.” I smiled comfortingly at him. 

“Don’t worry about your master, young one.” The comfort infused into the familiar voice made my eyes flutter shut. Opening them quickly, I turned to see the council all filing out of the councilroom. And strolling towards us was Master Kenobi, smiling kindly at my padawan as he said: “She can take care of herself.” 

Ghon bowed in respect, but did not say anything. 

There was a silence where I felt Master Kenobi’s eyes on me, where I watched Ghon…who was gazing at Master Kenobi. My padawan heard his fair share of stories about Master Kenobi, and not just from me either. The awe radiating from him was justified.

“Master Kenobi,” I stood behind Ghon, my hands on his shoulders, “this is my padawan, Ghon Laster.”

A strangely fond smile on his face, Master Kenobi held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.” 

I couldn’t see Ghon’s face, but I could feel his shyness as he shook Master Kenobi’s hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he echoed, likely not knowing what else to say. 

“I can sense your worry.” Master Kenobi’s eyes flicked up to mine before returning to the young man. “It’s natural to feel such things, but trust in the Force. It will look out for your master the same as it does for me or you.” 

It wasn’t just my own apprehension that eased. Even if I couldn’t feel Ghon’s feelings through the Force, the slump of his shoulders made his relief clear.

“Ghon, why don’t you go rest before joining Master Yoda with the younglings?” I said. “We didn’t get much sleep last night, and this is your chance to get some.”

“Yes, Master,” Ghon said, bowing his head towards Master Kenobi before walking off in the direction of his quarters.

My eyes lingered down the corridor even after he was gone from it. Look at him, I told myself sternly. Acknowledge him. I managed to turn my head, but somehow, my gaze lowered. Why? It wasn’t as if the floor was particularly interesting.

“Knight Y/L/N.” 

I could tell from Master Kenobi’s tone that it wasn’t a goodbye. He was waiting to talk to me. Steeling myself, I finally looked up at my old master.

He tilted his head. “I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Yes, well, the council keeps me busy.” I flashed him a tentative smile. 

“We have a knack for doing that,” he replied loftily, but the jovial look in his eye told me his pretention was teasing. 

I fished around for a snippy reply, but it didn’t leap into my mind as it used to, the rules of our engagement covered in dust. I realized that the awkward silence had returned, and yet it was too late for me to reply to his snark.

What could I say? What was I allowed to ask? 

“I was about to go to the gardens to meditate,” Master Kenobi said before I could figure out whether to extend or end the conversation. “Would you…care to join me?”

The light flickered. Was he…uncertain? What could he be uncertain of? “I would appreciate a chance to meditate with my old master.” I smiled at him, and the light steadied. Master Kenobi gestured down the hallway. We started walking together, taking every stride together with such ease, neither one having to adjust their pace for the other. 

The Jedi Temple gardens were one of the only green places on the planet of Coruscant, and it took a lot of work to keep up. But having a space where a Jedi could reconnect to the Force through plants, the most innocent of living things, was worth it. 

“I must say,” Master Kenobi finally said as we reached the courtyard, “I’m curious.”

“About what?”

Master Kenobi clasped his hands behind his back. “I…hear stories.”

“What kind of stories?” I replied, reaching out to brush my fingers against a leaf. 

“Stories about my wayward padawan.”

I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. To some, it’d be insulting to be called padawan once they’d ascended to being a knight, but being Master Kenobi’s padawan was always a good thing to me. “Oh?” I asked vaguely, even though I could probably guess some of what he’d heard. “What do they say?”

“Well,” Master Kenobi ran a hand over his beard, “they say you fought a whole pack of Nexu on Cholganna.”

“Grossly exaggerated,” I said lightly. “I only fought three.”

Master Kenobi snorted, and I felt suddenly too warm for my cloak as I grinned back at him. “And your run-in with Aurra Sing? I suppose the two of you didn’t actually resort to fisticuffs?”

“Well,” I lifted my chin, “that’s true, but she was asking for it."

“No doubt you were also.”

“Just the opposite,” I replied. “I was trying to heal one of her coworkers, but some people just won’t be told.”

Master Kenobi’s merry laughter filled the hall, and I couldn’t help smiling at him. Was it possible that our old normal could return so quickly? Just as I thought the thought, his smile faded. “I also heard you lost part of your hearing in one ear.”

Had he truly been keeping such close tabs on me to know about my hearing? I nodded, solemn. “An explosion on Bora Vio.” I swallowed, looking down at the leaf as I remembered the pain of the blast. “I’m lucky a bit of my hearing is all I lost. Not even the best of us can make it through a war unscathed.” I glanced up to see Master Kenobi smiling down at me in a way that reminded me of our past. “Unless, perhaps, you’re Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Master Kenobi’s face fell. “I’m far from unscathed.”

Panic flared in my stomach. “Is everything alright? Are you injured?”

“I’m quite well,” Master Kenobi assured me. I instinctively reached out with the Force, searching for any sign of pain or damage. Master Kenobi raised his eyebrows. “I see the healer training has paid off?”

My cheeks warmed as I quickly withdrew the Force. “Yes…it has. Vokara Che has been a wonderful instructor.” 

“Well?” Master Kenobi turned, holding out his hands. “What’s the verdict?”

I gave him a sideways look. His light seemed brighter than it’d been when first I sensed it before he joined the council meeting. The exhaustion was still there, as was the fear, but somehow the light gave off more warmth than before. “You’re not injured,” I replied, the only thing I was sure of.

“As I assured you.”

We reached the center of the courtyard, which was a plain yet polished marble circle. Master Kenobi sat down, and I sat across from him. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

The awareness started with myself.

Then it crept along the floor around me, the radius spreading until I was aware of the dozens of lives around me. Plants. Creatures. Jedi. I could sense the movement of the transits and speeders, carting people around this planet bursting with life.

But none of it compared to the light that sat directly in front of me.

Truly, I’d never felt anything more vibrant or mighty through the Force than Master Kenobi’s signature. If he ever happened to step foot on one of the dark planets like Dagobah or Mustafar, I was certain the planets would have a historic appearance of sunshine. 

Somewhere deep within me, there was a pull towards that light. Was it in my stomach? Or in my chest? Or perhaps even my head?

I couldn’t tell, but the Force seemed to sort of gather in between myself and the light, growing more and more dense.

Then a sharp tug came from nowhere, and because I was so in tune, I couldn’t stop it. 

My head jerked forward, only to collide with something so hard, I saw stars. “Ouch!” I blurted, opening my eyes and rubbing my smarting forehead. 

Master Kenobi mirrored me. “What in the blazes?” he muttered. 

“I don’t know,” I replied. I hadn’t leaned close enough to invade Master Kenobi’s space, unless…he leaned too?

With my eyes open, I couldn’t see the strange collection of the Force anymore, but I could’ve sworn I felt the Force laughing, and if I could feel it, Master Kenobi could feel it too. From the looks of him, he didn’t understand it any more than I did. 

The comm at my wrist dinged, and Master Windu’s voice filtered through.

“Knight Y/L/N, the attendant has arrived to dress you for your mission tonight.”

Head still aching, I pressed the button on the comm. “I’m on my way.” I gave Master Kenobi a quick, apologetic smile as I started to get to my feet. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll see you tonight then.”

I froze, paused in a sort of awkward crouch. “Tonight?” I echoed.

Master Kenobi’s mysterious smile filled me with the feeling I stood at the edge of a cliff. “I volunteered to be your backup for the mission.”

-

“The council agreed to this?” I asked for the millionth time as I looked at my reflection. 

“Yes, ma’am.” The attendant didn’t falter in her…attending.

Truthfully, I couldn’t explain what she was doing. She whirled around with brushes and bottles and sparkly adornments. Every movement she made directly correlated to my reflection morphing from a humble Jedi Knight to a midnight woman of decadence. 

The deep blue velvet dress clung so tightly to my body, I felt like it was strangling me. Draped over me were strands of precious stones of white, blue, and silver that caught the light every time I breathed. A matching hairpiece rested in my elaborate hairdo. The white, translucent gloves the attendant helped me put on helped me cope with how bare I felt, but the feeling of air against my collarbones and my back made me periodically shiver.

I’d never had this much of my skin exposed, nor the outlines of my body so easily made out. As the attendant had told me, the council approved, but I didn’t know if they’d seen the dress and approved it. Somehow, the idea of them all discussing the garment I was now wearing made me more uncomfortable in it than before and even more uncomfortable than when Master Windu commented on my Separatist-buyer-pleasing physique. 

And yet, strangely, as my appearance distanced me from the Jedi Code, the Force remained steady. It was comforting to know the Force could recognize me in spite of the sudden splendor.

I might've looked like someone else entirely, but I was still me inside.

The brush strokes on my lips ceased, and the attendant stepped back to study my reflection in the mirror. “You look perfect,” she said with great satisfaction, closing her trunk of paints and jewelry. 

I wanted to argue, but what did I know about such things? I rose from the chair and nearly toppled over, reaching out to steady myself. “How do I walk in this?” I grumbled, shuffling forward.

“Gracefully,” the attendant replied. “Here are your shoes.”

My eyes widened as she held up the platforms.

-

I stood nervously at the top of the stairs, looking down at the distance I somehow had to cover. I had a sinking feeling that these platforms made stairs dangerous, but there was no other way down. 

Lifting the skirts up enough to be able to see my feet, I stepped down, not looking away from the floor. I knew the moment I lifted my gaze, I would trip and ruin the attendant’s hard work as well as breaking my neck. 

Only halfway down the stairs, the Force shifted around me, as if it were parting for someone’s gaze. I stopped where I was and looked up.

Master Kenobi stood at the bottom of the stairs now, gazing up at me with an odd expression on his face. His expression resembled Ghon’s whenever I tried to explain that a visible lightsaber could be perceived as a threat to non-Jedi. 

“I know, it’s strange,” I said, redirecting my gaze downward to resume my treacherous descent. “I don’t even look like myself.”

“No,” Master Kenobi slowly said as I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, free to look up again. “No, you don’t.”

I nodded, pleased that he agreed. But when I opened my mouth to say something along those lines, I noticed how Master Kenobi’s eyes seemed to linger on the necklace around my throat. I lifted a hand to make sure it was still in place. “Blinding, isn’t it?”

“It certainly…demands…attention.” Master Kenobi cleared his throat, meeting my eyes. “The buyer will be pleased.”

I cast about for something to say in response, suddenly feeling my cheeks warm. “Hopefully Master Windu was correct about the type of company this buyer prefers.”

Master Kenobi’s face didn’t change, but the light took on a slight yet sickening green tint. He stepped to my side, turning to gesture down the street. “Shall we?”

“We’re walking?” I glanced towards the path and the great yawning distance before us.

“Is that a problem?” Master Kenobi asked.

I looked down at my shoes. I’d never walked long distances with them before. Surely it wouldn’t be an issue, even if I had to take smaller steps than I was used to. 

Quickly, I was proven wrong. 

I was moving slower than a Hutt, and it only took maybe twenty steps in the ridiculous shoes before my feet started to hurt. 

Night was falling in Coruscant, and the bustling nightlife didn’t seem to take much notice of a beautiful woman walking beside a Jedi Master. I envied Master Kenobi for being able to remain in his normal attire, but I supposed he wasn’t the one executing the mission. 

I opened my mouth, ready to ask Master Kenobi where he would be while I was in the club, but just then, my ankle wobbled. I flung my arms out to catch my balance. 

Unfortunately, the jerky movement sent my elbow flying into Master Kenobi’s gut.

“Oof!” he grunted, his hands coming up to grab my arm, helping me stay on my feet even through his pain.

“Sorry!” I said quickly. 

Instead of falling away, his calloused hands gently moved up my arm, offering me aid in my balance and offering something else entirely. “Here,” he said lightly. “Lean on me.”

We walked the rest of the way with my arm tucked into the crook of his elbow. 

With his aid, it was much easier to stay on my own feet, and I wished we could’ve walked the whole way arm in arm. Strange how being with him made me feel like a padawan again, as if with him, I had the option to not be strong. It felt almost like a luxury.

Master Kenobi stopped me when we were two blocks away from the club. “Here.” He dropped a comm into my hand. “I’ll stay here, out of sight.”

The sudden reminder of the situation made my chest tighten. I swore off all luxuries when I became a Jedi. It was time to be the Knight I’d been trained to be, the Knight Master Kenobi trained me to be. I squared my shoulders, gave a short nod, and then made the rest of the trip on my own. 

-

The novelty of my midnight dress had worn off. The cocoon of soft fabric against my skin felt wrong, and I missed the telltale scrape of my roughspun tunic against my skin. This self-serving grandeur wasn’t in line with the vows I’d taken. As I glanced around at the expensively clad bodies and breathed the air rank with alcohol, all I wanted was to be back in the temple.

Back in the garden. 

Master Kenobi wasn’t my only back-up. Alateen, a Rodian male I'd first met on his home planet, stood behind the counter. He also had a comm linked to Master Kenobi, and it was him that supplied me with the blue-tinted, tasteless and non-alcoholic drinks that matched with liquid sloshing around in the glasses of everyone around me. While drinking wasn’t expressly against the Jedi Code, I needed all my wits about me tonight.

“When was the senator supposed to get here?” I asked, lifting my glass to my lips to hide their movements.

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

I could tell from the edge to Master Kenobi’s serious voice that he was approaching no insignificant levels of stress.

I set the glass down, lifting my hand to delicately brush at invisible drops on my lips. “How long are we going to wait for their appearance?”

“At least a little longer.”

“You’re lucky,” I grumbled. “You can’t hear all the clammer and clatter.” The dull roar of music, conversation, and laughter was overwhelming. Master Kenobi couldn’t hear any of it and as a result wouldn’t have a raging headache later.

I missed the calm of the temple garden, meditating in silence, feeling the Force all around me. This place was so crowded, I barely felt like I had room to exist.

A Vurk male stumbled against my table, hitting it with such force, my drink toppled over, dumping half the contents onto my lap. “Ugh!” I grunted.

“What’s wrong?” The immediacy with which Master Kenobi’s voice came through the comm made me smile softly. 

“It’s okay.” I grabbed the cloth napkin and started wiping up the liquid. “Someone just knocked over my drink.”

“Do you want me to tell Alateen that you need another one?”

The Rodian male was leaning over the counter, talking very animatedly with a grinning Twi’lek female. “I think he’s otherwise engaged.”

“I’ll tell him,” Master Kenobi said gruffly.

“No, don’t.” I sighed, tossing the wet napkin onto the table. “There’s no point in having back-up if–”

“Well hello.”

That voice...the voice from many a nightmare I’d had in the past few months.

I jumped to my feet, whipping around to face the speaker. My heart kicked up into a ratchet pace, making me breathless. I stared into the soulless eyes I’d dreaded seeing since the first time I looked into them.

“Dooku,” I whispered in horror. 

“WHAT?!” Master Kenobi shouted into my comm.

Dooku’s hand shot forward, clenching my wrist before my fingers could graze the knife I had concealed. “Don’t say a word, or my agent will kill yours.” I glanced over at Alateen and noticed, for the first time, the way the Twi’lek’s hand lingered over the blaster strapped to her thigh.

“Y/N?” Master Kenobi’s voice asked. “Y/N, what’s going on?” I remained silent, staring at Dooku.“Talk to me! Where do you see Dooku?”

Dooku let go of my hand and pulled out my chair, a gentlemanly action to all those watching, but I wasn’t fooled. Alateen’s life depended on my cooperation. 

“Can you hear me?!”

I did my best to ignore his voice as I sat. Dooku took a seat across from me, looking as stiff and yet put together as he did while standing.

“I’m on my way, Y/N, just tell me if you’re alright!”

Dooku slid my drink across the table towards me. “Pull out your comm. Drop it in.”

“Y/N!”

My head urged me to obey Dooku, but my heart shouted back, begging me to say something to Master Kenobi. Dooku lifted his hand to his own ear. “Stoma, Y/N needs convincing.”

My eyes darted over to the Twi’lek, who gripped her blaster with her hand out of Alateen’s sight.

“No!” I burst out before clapping a hand over my mouth.

“Y/N, are you hurt?! Tell me–”

I yanked the comm out of my ear and dropped it into my drink. “I’m sorry, okay? Call off your agent.”

Dooku rested his hand on the table, palm down. A miniature countdown projected above his hand where a small black gadget rested. “In a moment, you’re going to stand up and follow me into the backroom.”

“Where are we going?”

Dooku fixed me with a look and said nothing. 

“What do you want with me?”

No reply.

“What about Alateen?” I asked. “If you hurt him–”

“Obey me and he won’t come to any unnecessary harm.”

“Unnecessary?” I asked, eyeing the numbers above his wrist. I had less than ten seconds left.

“One has to make sure your agent isn’t in a state to follow us.”

He’d thought this through. Everything had been accounted for. 

My heart sank. This was a trap, and I was already caught in it because all I could do was watch as the time counted down.

Three.

Two.

O-

With a loud boom, smoke filled the club. Screams reached my ears as the smoke made my eyes burn enough to make tears well up. Before I could reach up to rub at them, Count Dooku had firmly grasped my upper arm, leading me towards the bar. He didn’t drag me. He didn’t need to.

I reached out with the Force and immediately felt Alateen’s beating heart. With a bit of exertion, I could feel his unharmed body. He was unconscious, but so far, Dooku was telling the truth. 

My platformed foot ran into the doorway Dooku pulled me through, making me trip, but his death grip on my arm kept me upright. Once we were through, I turned to ask Dooku what was next. 

Before I could, I felt his hand on my shoulder and a sharp prick in my neck.

The last thing I remembered before my vision went black was the floor rushing to meet me as my knees buckled.

-

My head pounded. 

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter against the pain, but it didn’t lessen. 

As more awareness returned to me, I noticed the strange, aching position of my shoulders. I tried to shift, but I couldn’t move more than an inch. What was happening? 

“You’re awake.”

I jolted, my eyes flying open as I tried to step back. 

And didn’t get very far.

My heart sank as I looked up at the reflective surface of the metal chains which trailed from the ceiling and bound my wrists, keeping them aloft above my head. I looked down to see the dress, the jewelry, the gloves, and the sparkling strands of stones were gone, leaving me only in undershorts and a thin undertunic that I definitely hadn’t been wearing under the dress. My bare feet were freezing against the floor. I studied the wall in front of me, which seemed made of stone, but not smooth stone. It felt like the room was a cave, reinforced by the only source of light in the room being the open doorway behind me.

And when I twisted my neck, straining against the chains to give myself room to look, a figure stood in the doorway. Based on the silhouette, which was all I could make out, it could’ve been anybody.

But I could feel that same signature I’d felt before and knew exactly who it was.

Where were we? How long had it been since he’d knocked me unconscious in the club? Why had he taken me?

“What do you want with me?” I asked. He wasn’t the Jedi council; it didn’t matter if he judged me for asking questions. Dooku didn’t answer, and I felt nothing shift in his emotions. Either my questions didn’t matter to him or he was shielding himself completely.

He seemed to be in no rush. He just stood behind me, watching me. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my face. The weight turned into a distinct probing through the Force.

I let him probe away.

I wasn’t going to resort to Sith techniques.

Dooku walked slowly around, his face now illuminated in the light. “Apologies for the crude bonds. This planet doesn’t like technology, so we had to be a bit primitive.”

We were on a planet with high moisture then. Or perhaps a heavy gravitational pull?

“It’s high moisture,” said Dooku, making me pause. He was tapping into my thoughts. I stiffened, turning away from him, as if it were my face he gleaned the information from, not the Force. Why couldn’t he just hurry up and tell me what was going on?

The probing increased.

“Do you think I can’t feel you?” I asked.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” Dooku asked. He stepped closer. “Push me out.”

I settled my gaze on him. So this was his game. He wanted to bully me into using a Sith technique. “No.”

A sharp searing pain shot through my head, and I sucked in a breath. As quickly as it came, it left. I’d only felt something like it once before.

“You felt me,” I blurted out. “On Taris. When I meditated, you found my signature and you cut me off.”

Dooku’s face remained impassive. “I assumed you were Kenobi.” 

How was that possible? Dooku said himself that I had darkness in my signature, and Master Kenobi’s signature was like pure light.

The pain lanced through my head again, cutting off my train of thought. “Push me out.”

“No.”

The pain was worse this time, enough to make a strangled groan leave my lips.

“Ahhh,” Dooku said. “I had a feeling Kenobi wouldn’t let you do such a mission on your own.”

I jerked my head up at him, feeling suddenly as though I were going to throw up. “What are you doing?”

"Imagine what he must've felt, storming into that establishment, only to find you were already gone." Dooku clasped his hands behind his back. “A worthy opponent is no good if there's no one to fight."

“If you wanted to fight Master Kenobi, you should’ve stayed on Coruscant.”

“And fight on his home turf?”

“I never took you for a coward,” I replied.

“Only a fool would fight a battle he does not need to.” The probing resumed, and Dooku tilted his head. “You have a padawan waiting for you on Coruscant, do you?”

My shields were half up before I even realized it. I forced them down. 

“He’s quite attached, is he not? The council doesn’t like that.”

I kept my shields open, silently apologizing to my padawan for putting him in danger. I could only hope that I returned to him in time to keep him safe.

“He’s young. Impressionable.”

An image formed in my mind, an image I hadn’t created, of an older Ghon dressed in black, wielding a red lightsaber.

“Stop that!” I blurted. 

“Do it yourself,” he replied. “Push me out.” I shook my head.

This time, the strike of pain spread down through my neck and into my chest and lingered longer. I let out a pained hiss as my heart contracted painfully under the strain. “What do you want from me?” I cried out in desperation.

“I want you to be the Jedi your master raised you to be!” Dooku thundered back.

I blinked at him, not understanding. Why would he want me to be more like Master Kenobi? Why would he want me to be more of a worthy opponent when he already had me where he wanted me?

Then it clicked. 

Pong Krell.

Of course.

Because everything always came back to him.

Master Kenobi was right on Taris; the attention Count Dooku was giving me stemmed from both of my masters. I looked at Dooku with new eyes. “You set a trap for me.” The ripple of darkness told me I was right. “You planted the information about the buyer and the type of women the buyer liked. You knew the council would send me.” They’d unknowingly delivered me right to him, gift-wrapped in a midnight blue dress.

Not even a hint of a victorious smile lingered on Dooku’s face. He didn’t revel. He only fixed me with a determined look. “Show me you’re Pong Krell’s padawan.”

I released a long breath. “No. Because I am the Jedi my true master raised me to be. And I will remain that Jedi until the bitter end.”

The pain reached all the way down to my hips this time. 

Again and again, Dooku repeated his command. 

Again and again, I refused.

Each time, the pain increased. When my body started to shake, rattling the chains above my head, I stopped keeping count.

-

There seemed to be no pattern to Dooku’s appearances. 

Now, whenever I refused him, I felt the pain from my head to my toes, and I was sure that every visit, the pain increased. Dooku didn’t seem amused by the pain nor did he seem to enjoy inflicting it. He was dogged in his pursuit of getting me to push him out.

Every time I almost broke, I thought of Master Kenobi, who’d hidden himself from the Force on Taris to protect me and wondered if I was endangering Ghon by not shielding. 

But I’d worked so hard to undo what Krell had done. How could I revert right back to it?

“No one’s coming to rescue you,” Dooku said during one of his visits. “You can feel the council’s doubt, don’t you? They see Krell in you just like I do, only they see it as a weakness.”

“That is their responsibility,” I’d replied. “Mine is to be the best Jedi I can be.”

The pain was horrid…but being left alone in the darkness was worse, because with the darkness came the scratching sounds.

There must’ve been some kind of rodent in my cell that came out in the dark because I never heard the scratching sounds when Dooku was there. That or I was starting to hallucinate. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched a conclusion; my hands were starting to shake from lack of food, and there was an unswallowable pain in my throat from lack of water. Three times since I’d woken up the first time in this cell, a human male brought me enough water to sate my thirst. Once he even brought some rations. When I tried to ask questions, he just stared at me and did not answer.

I had no way of knowing if Dooku sent him or if he was defying Dooku to help me. Either way, the food was only enough to remind me just how close I was to starving.

Unfortunately, even if my hands were free and a Jedi healer could heal themselves, hunger couldn’t be healed. I’d treated enough starving citizens throughout the Clone Wars to know that. 

As I listened to the horrible scratching sounds, I wondered if I would ever get the chance to heal someone again.

-

My head lolled back, and I stared up into the darkness where the ceiling was supposed to be.

Dooku had been more forceful this time. Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to hold on so long, however long I’d been here.

I had no way of knowing how much time had passed. There was no window for me to see day or night passing. If Dooku came into the cell once a day, it’d been a least a week since I was taken, but I had no way of knowing for sure. Perhaps he came twice a day. Or even every hour. Every period alone in the dark felt like ages. 

The longer I spent in this cell, the more my hopes of being rescued dwindled. If I was simply a hostage, I would’ve been returned or killed by now. If the council were organizing a rescue, would it have taken this long?

I was certain that the remainder of my days would be spent in this cell. I wished I felt the peace of the Force, but I could only feel the trickles of desperation Dooku clearly wanted me to feel. When would this end? Would it end with Dooku’s lightsaber buried in my gut? Or would it end with my body surrendering my spirit? 

-

My head lulled forward, breaking me out of my light sleep. I groaned as I lifted it to stretch it out. Now my neck ached as much as the rest of my upper body, but I still didn’t have the effort to hold it up. I could only rest it on one of my shoulders. It was freezing, but my body was too tired to shiver.

Today was surely it.

I could feel the Force in me going out like the ocean tides of Pabu, as if it were preparing me to leave myself and unite with it once more. 

As Jedi, we strived for the peace that came with the acceptance of death, and yet facing the prospect of my own was only wearying.

Had the council told Ghon of my capture? Probably, considering my mission was only supposed to last for an evening. Stars, I hoped that whoever told Ghon did so gently, for it was a heavy burden for any padawan to bear, and he was so young.

Well, my second master had far exceeded my first one. Maybe Ghon would get lucky in that way too. 

The sound of the door behind me scraping open reached my ears, and even with my eyes closed, the light of the open doorway was blinding.

“Y/N.”

The sound was far away, yet I shrank from it, expecting the pain that swiftly followed any sound. 

“Y/N.”

I knew that voice. My eyes fluttered, but it hurt too badly to keep them open. Something tugged on the chain holding my left arm up, and I let out a whimper as it pulled on my desperately sore muscles. 

“Y/N, it’s Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan.

Not Master Kenobi.

Obi-Wan.

“Obi…” My scratchy voice sounded like nothing I’d heard before.

“Shhhhh, save your strength, it’s alright, I’m here.”

I peeled my eyes open again, fighting the drag long enough to catch sight of the deeply concerned features of my favorite face in the galaxy.

My eyes fell shut again.

My body and mind had officially given up if they were conjuring such a welcome sight as Obi-Wan. Yet the impossible granted me an inkling of peace. Thank you, I said to the Force. For letting me say goodbye before taking me. I tilted my chin down to the ground, ready to give up.

The door scraped shut, throwing me back into darkness. Fingers tilted my chin up once more. “Open your eyes,” said my master’s voice. Instead of his voice getting further and further away, it was getting louder.

Confusion swirled, giving me enough strength to obey. I blinked but there was only darkness again. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Was this…could it be…?

My hopes rose.

“Darling, you have to hide your feelings,” Obi-Wan’s voice hissed. 

The hopes fell dead, dashed against the rocks of reality.

I’d never once known Obi-Wan to call someone by a pet name.

This was another trick, a new strategy of Dooku’s to get me to comply. How cruel, to take advantage of my failing mind to summon the image of my master, the very man I would never be able to resist. 

But resist I did.

If I’d made this far, I couldn’t cave now, not when the peace of death was so near.

“Y/N,” said the equally blessed and cursed voice. “Please, you have to hide yourself or he’ll find us.”

No. That’s not what Jedi did.

“I know, I can feel your hesitance, but if we’re going to get out of here, you have to.” The sound of his pleading voice was far worse than any other pain Dooku had inflicted on me. I felt a mouth hovering by my ear. “Y/N, if I ever earned your trust, listen to me now. You have to raise your shields.” Even the graze of his beard against my cheek felt real, dwarfed only by the wave of despair crashing over me. “C’mon, honey, do it for me.” 

I let out a whimper, knowing there was only one way to make this vision stop.

I’m sorry, I thought miserably, I can’t take anymore. I squeezed my already shut eyes tighter, shrinking away from the Force and waiting for the cruel vision to fade.

It was like losing one of my arms. Or cutting off a friend. Or falling with no hope of ever hitting ground.

It’d been only seconds of separation, but my body was colder, weaker, and hurting more and more every second. How had I survived cutting myself off from the Force under Krell?

I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like it at all.

But the fingers kept stroking my cheek. “That’s it, that’s it.”

Why was the vision still here? Dooku could only project it through the Force, and I’d pulled away from it. The vision should’ve faded, which meant…

My eyes flew open, and I wished more than ever that there was light so I could see my master. I tried to say his name, but my voice failed. 

The finger underneath my chin disappeared, and once again, there was a tug at my bindings. A strained whimper broke through my lips. “I know, I know it hurts, but I have to get you out–” He froze and then whispered under his breath: “Hells, he’s coming.”

Before I could muster up any thoughts or movements, all of Obi-Wan’s touch disappeared. I struggled against my restraints, the despair returning. There was a tiny, invisible caress on my cheek. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here, but you have to shut yourself off.”

I hadn’t realized, in my panic, I’d reconnected with the Force.

I had barely enough time to lift my mental shields before the door scraped open again.

“Oh,” Dooku said from his place in the doorway. “Today is the day, then?” I heard the silent scraping of Dooku’s boot against the floor, drawing nearer and nearer. “Today,” he murmured, his voice far too close for comfort, “today, you give in.”

I managed to lift my head to see his keen eyes watching me.

I wanted to hurl a statement at him or even spit on the dungeon floor. I wanted to show him defiance, to tell him that he didn’t get to revel in my pain. But there was none left in me. I didn’t even have the energy to speak. I simply lowered my head again, shutting my eyes, hoping his visit would be quick today.

“You know you can’t live much longer.” His boots walked slowly around me. “Are you trying to die privately?” he asked. “Or are you trying to protect Kenobi from feeling the moment your life ends?”

I didn’t answer, even as my heart twinged in my chest.

There was a pause as the sound of his boots finished his rotation. He didn’t speak the words, but I felt the hidden message: join me.

My lips parted as I mustered all my strength. “I'm...” The word sounded no louder than a gentle breeze. “I'm a Jedi."

Dooku pushed his face close. “Jedi don’t shield themselves from the Force,” he said. “You’ve already given in. And for your submission, I think it’s time you got some food.” 

Guilt stabbed at my gut, and I was not comforted by the fact that Dooku couldn’t feel it. 

Dooku walked out of the room, the door sliding shut. 

Obi-Wan, wherever he was hiding, let out a long breath of relief. 

My body couldn’t even flinch at the blinding blue light that suddenly flashed through the chamber, nor at the screech of the chains as Obi-Wan’s lightsaber cut clean through them. 

For the first time in I didn’t know how long, my arms lowered past my shoulders. Unable to do anything, I collapsed, closing my eyes in preparation for hitting the floor. 

Instead of cool stone, however, my shoulder collided with a warm body, my head falling to rest on a broad chest. 

“I’ve got you.”

Obi-Wan lowered me to the ground. I had many questions, many expressions of relief ready to leave my tongue, but all I could manage was a high-pitched: “ouch.” It ripped through my dry throat, and I swallowed hard, trying to gather myself to say more. 

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around me, offering me a modicum of warmth. “Where’s your dress?” he whispered.

I managed to shake my head. I don’t know.

Obi-Wan rubbed my arms up and down. He was probably trying to generate warmth, but the feeling of his hands on my skin was strangely painful. Then, his hands disappeared for a moment before wrapping a cloak around me, perhaps the one he’d been wearing himself. 

How long? I strained to ask as he wrapped the cloak around my neck, the clasp laying cold and heavy on my bare skin. I croaked twice, the croaks somewhat resembling the words. 

“Too long,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Eleven days.”

Eleven days.

My head felt too full and too empty to process the weight that came with the timeline. 

“Come on, up you get,” he said lowly. His arms hooked under my arms, pulling me upright. Another grunt burst through my lips as my muscles lit up like fire. “I know it hurts.” Obi-Wan pulled my arm around his neck, his steady body keeping me straight. “But we must leave before Dooku returns.”

He pulled me to my feet, and I nearly buckled.

“I know, I know, but I can’t hold my lightsaber if I carry you. You have to walk, Y/N, I need you to walk.”

And then we were walking.

Even as my feet and legs moved, my eyes fell shut, too tired to stay open. If it had been anyone else, I would’ve just laid on the floor, but it was Obi-Wan, so I would keep going.

I heard an electronic ding, and I opened my eyes just in time to see a door sliding away to reveal a barren, frozen wasteland I recognized.

No.

Not this infernal planet again.

The cold Neftali wind blew past my body, and my shivering began anew, but no complaint of any kind could pass through my lips before Obi-Wan dragged me into the snow.

Oh, it was so much worse than my memory made it out to be.

My bare feet were numb in almost an instant.

Obi-Wan couldn’t move carefully, not if he was going to get through the snow, but every movement of his body pulled at a part of mine that ached even as my body was quickly going numb. “Just a little further,” Obi-Wan kept saying as he half-led, half-dragged me. “Just a bit further.”

I pulled the cloak as tight around me as it would go. Even though it was thin, it was better than the brutal winds on my bare skin. I didn’t know where Obi-Wan was leading me, and without the Force, I couldn’t sense anything about my surroundings. 

“Just a little more.”

“Stop,” I panted. I felt horrible for saying it, considering Obi-Wan was practically carrying me, but I couldn’t walk anymore.

Obi-Wan came to a stop, gently lowering me to sit on the snow. I clutched onto his arms with my weak grip, which wouldn’t have kept me upright at all, had he not held me up. I desperately tried to catch my breath.

While my master’s appearance revived my spirit, my body was still shutting down.

“I’m…okay,” I managed to say. “Need…breath.”

Oh, every word was a colossal effort, and judging by the speed with which Obi-Wan’s eyebrows drew together, they weren’t as comforting as I’d intended.

“We need to–” He broke off as the distant sounds of voices reached us.

I wanted to cry. I couldn’t go any farther yet, not one single step, but our enemies drew ever nearer. The longer we stayed here, the more likely we were going to get caught. Between the snow and the dungeon, I would rather perish in the snow than be dragged back to that place. 

I couldn’t let Obi-Wan get caught, not when he came to rescue me. I looked up into his worried face, trying to summon the strength to move. It didn’t matter if I died on this planet, but if Dooku captured Obi-Wan, he’d subject him to the same pain he’d subjected me to. 

Clutching at Obi-Wan’s arms, I tried to sit up. 

Obi-Wan’s hand shot out, pressing down on my shoulder. His expression was pinched and cloudy with thought. “Okay,” he said to himself, seeming to come to some decision. “Okay, Y/N, you need to stay here, I’ll draw them away.”

“No!” My arms were weaker than my voice, but I still managed to grab ahold of him before he could slip away. Don’t be an idiot!

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I thought we’d have more time, but I have to lead them away.”

“Don’t–”

“Wait here for me.” Obi-Wan easily peeled my hand off his arm, squeezing it tightly. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Obi–”

Obi-Wan lurched forward, resting one hand on each side of my head as he pressed a kiss to my hairline, his beard scratching against my skin. And with that, he took off running. Blue light appeared as he activated his lightsaber, but soon, he disappeared altogether.

Even as my terror about Obi-Wan’s safety ricocheted through my brain, my eyes fell closed.

I’d seen many bodies suffer too much to hold on, but I’d never experienced it. Is this what it’d felt like for every patient I’d ever lost? Was this how much energy it took simply to hold on?

A grim certainty settled over me. If I stayed here in the cold much longer, my body would officially give up.

The sound of more voices became discernible over the roaring that could’ve been from the storm or could’ve just been in my own head. The voices grew closer. 

Did it matter much if they found me? 

No.

But would Obi-Wan endanger himself again to rescue me and get captured himself?

I couldn’t risk it. 

The desperation got me moving. Slowly, I managed to get to my hands and knees and started to crawl. 

I didn’t look up, not wanting to know how far I still had to go. I just kept crawling and crawling and crawling. 

The bunker, I remembered. But where was it? And how could I find it without the Force leading me?

Without the Force, I had no idea if I was even headed in the correct direction. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would’ve waited for Obi-Wan, but I didn’t, and now I was lost. He wouldn’t be able to find me when he was cut off from the Force, but reconnecting to it would bring Dooku right to him. 

Too tired to do anything, I half rolled, half collapsed onto my side, my arms falling limply to the ground as my head came to rest. The biting cold snow against my face hurt, but I couldn’t muster up energy to lift it.

Soon enough, I didn’t feel the cold anymore, nor the wet snow against my body, not even the thumping of my headache.

Everything was silent.

Everything was hazy.

And then everything was nothing at all.

-

Part 5

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