#quick repost bc of a mistake I noticed

[hereticalhowler]

finished these talksprites of Annie! she’s so pretty <3333

[lovermase]

AM I MAKING A MISTAKE?

Word Count: 4.9k words

Notes: this is a repost bc it got lost in the tags and I had to back a check the mistakes 🩷

He sipped lighty on the beer bottle that was perched in his hands. The taste of the cold alcoholic beverage chisels down his throat, warming his body up. His eyes wander mindlessly around the loitered room watching as everyone avidly conversed amongst themselves. His eyes narrowed in on you when he saw you standing by the refreshment table.

You’re talking to someone; a colleague he presumed from the familiarity of their presence around each other while they engaged in their conversation. You’re doing most of the talking, like you always does and he’s standing there attentively listening. You had that certain way of demanding everyone’s attention whenever you spoke or walked inside of a room. You was unsure of this effect or power but Mason was well aware of it.

It was effortless the way your beauty captured people’s attention, the authoritative way you walked in the room, your smile, wide and comforting. Eyes; beady and alluring. You were one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on.

You worked for Premier League itself and they had an event for end of season and you were busy talking to colleagues to busy to even notice Mason was here. In truthfulness you wouldn’t have thought he would’ve been here tonight but your suspicions were wrong.

The colleague you’re currently talking to must’ve obtained the same thoughts as Mason. As they were talking, his attention diverted from your eyes and seemingly began to linger lower, he stepped forward hovering his body over you. Y/N’s too busy talking to notice - it must’ve been important because Mason knows you would’ve kicked him in the groin had you known that he was currently ogling at you in a very inappropriate manner.

Bringing the bottle up to his lips, Mason chugs down the remainder of his drink then sets the bottle aside leaving it forgotten on the bar counter. He stands to his feet, sliding his hands inside the front pockets as he begins to walk over to the refreshment.

Y/N’s still talking away, while this guy seems to be inching closer in your surrounding, his hand now resting on your forearm. This causes you to pause momentarily in confusion, your eyes flicker down to where his hand was resting. You had parted your mouth to question him, intending on asking why he felt comfortable enough to touch you like this especially without you permission but Mason sliding behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pecking a simple kiss against the skin of your neck before you could even speak.

‘Sorry, the line in the bathroom took forever.’ He murmurs apologetically against your ear but still loud enough for you and the colleague to hear. He lifts his head, arm still wrapped around your waist. He narrows his gaze on the guy, giving him a condescending smile.

‘Hi. Don’t believe we met before. I’m Mason. And you are?’ This guy looked dumbfounded as he stood there, his eyes assessing Mason’s protective side coming out, the way he held onto you so intimately, the way you seemed to relax at his touch. It doesn’t take long for the realisation to finally occur to him.

‘Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know she had -‘ He swallows nervously as Mason stares back at him, waiting with a raised challenging eyebrow.

The guy was coughing awkwardly as he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. He turned to face Y/N. ‘I’m sorry.’ He muttered in a quick apology then hastily scurried away.

When he’s out of the view and somewhere on the otyou side of the room, Y/N whips around to face Mason. You shoves his hand off of you, folding your arms across your chest. ‘I don’t need you to defend me.’ You retort.

Mason chuckled wryly, shaking his head. ‘A simple thank you would’ve been enough, little one.’

You’re right, both of them know that you could’ve easily taken that guy down in a quick move had he done or said something inappropriate to you. Your agility and combating skills had seemingly approved thanks to the self defence course you had begun taking. But as always Mason only did it to rile you up and get under your skin. The way he knows he only does, especially when he calls you by that nickname.

‘I told you not to call me that. Only my friends get to call me that and we-‘ You gesture a hand between them. ‘Aren’t that.’

Your friends started to call you ‘little one’ as a joke because you were the shortest one out of all of them and that nickname just stuck til this day and you knew Mason only called you that to rile you up and he succeeded everytime he called you by that nickname.

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tilting a curious head at you, Mason hums in amusement. ‘We aren’t friends but we are something much more intimate than that. Aren’t we sweetheart?’ He teases, the tone of his voice is flirtatious and that makes your stomach tighten and your toes curl.

His eyes pay attention to you, you shift under his smothering warmth of his scrutiny, cheeks flushing a rosy blush. You hope that he doesn’t notice how hot he’s gotten you. How hot you got just by the sight of his face. He looked good; clad in an all black suit with his hair freshly cut that was for the FA cup that happened a few days ago.

He looked handsome.

But you wouldn’t ever tell him that. You wouldn’t tell him that your breath hitched a bit when he slipped behind you, pulling your body against his when he hugged you from behind. You wouldn’t tell him that you felt him pressing up against you bum and that a breathy moan threatened to slip from you mouth when you felt the rigid outline of his erection prodding through the light material of his trousers.

No

You wouldn’t ever tell him any of that. Especially how he looked so damn hot and beddable right now and that you want to rip off his clothes and have him take you right here right now.

You know what he’s doing; trying to get under your skin. You wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction of achieving that tonight. It was more fun to see him beg and chase after you.

Licking your lips and curling your lips into a roguish smirk, you raise your eyebrows when you see his eyes quickly flick down to the outline of your lips then make their way back up to your face.

You’ve got him right where you want him.

‘You’re just someone I go to when I need to relieve my stress, nothing more.’ You answer with a shrug. It’s kinda harsh but you know that’s the only way to get him all riled up and angry.

Truthfully, he was just more than sex. As time progressed you found yourself actually liking Mason’s presence around you for more than your sexual desires. You chided yourself for developing feelings for him. This thing between us was supposed to be strictly sex only no feelings whatsoever. That’s what you initially intended when you first seeked him. Somewhere down the line however you found yourself falling for him.

You hated it.

Not because he was a bad person or anything. You were upset with yourself because falling for Mason Mount was simply not apart of the plan.

If Mason was offended by your simple trivialization of their relationship, he showed no indication of it. Instead he chuckled lowly and nodded his head. He stared at you for a brief moment as if he was contemplating on making a snarky response to your comment.

He decided against it because he only brushed past you, leaning down slightly to whisper ‘You look beautiful tonight.’ in your ear. You don’t miss the way your body shivers when you feel the warmth of his breath tickling your skin. He smirks as he walks off, disappearing into the crowd.

You could pretend that he didn’t have an affect of you but you would be blatantly lying to yourself. Damn him and his sexy face. You inwardly huffs, turning around to see that he’s perched himself back into his position in a stool at the bar.

His fingers tapped against the countertop as he waited for the bartender to finish with you current customer. He glances over his shoulder to see that Y/N was still staring at him. He grins at you, that signature boyish smirk spreads upward on his lips as he brings his hand up mid air and waves at you.

You hastily turns away, deciding to distract yourself with another glass of alcohol as you attempt to resist the urge of succumbing to your sexual thoughts with him.

He’s leaning against the wall outside in the hallway, mindlessly standing there with his hands slacked in his pockets when he hears the clinking sound of heels connecting against the hardwood floor.

He feels himself smiling when the familiarising smell of a citrusy perfume lingers in his nostrils. He’s smelled that same scent hundreds of times; especially when his face is nestled against your neck.

‘Missed me?’ He quips teasingly as he pushed himself off of the wall. He could see the outlines of your silhouette as you approached closer.

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Mount. I’m looking for the bathroom.’ You inform him, rolling your eyes at his arrogance. Your footsteps however stop and your standing directly in front of him.

‘Why are you out here anyway?’ You questioned.

‘Why did you stop here when you were supposed to be looking for the bathroom?’ He quips in a quick wit ignoring your question and causing another blush to colour your cheeks.

Touchè.

If he wanted to play this game, so could you.

‘Why did you even come tonight? You weren’t even invited.’ Truthfully, he had been invited along with the rest of the team.

‘Why do you keep talking to me when you claim not to like me?’

At this brash inquiry, You relent. Your taken slightly aback but you know the real reasoning behind your continued back and forth bantering with him and why you felt yourself being reeled back to him every time he was around you. You thought that your facade had been convincing enough to where he wouldn’t be able to tell that you indeed had harboured feelings for him.

But the weight of that inquiry, the innuendo blatant and apparent in his tone made you suddenly think otherwise.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You needed to think of a comeback. Great, he was looking at you now. His gaze was smothering you again, making it hard for you to form coherent thoughts. He had you right where he wanted you again.

Fuck.

Mason slowly walked up to you. He’s looking at you again; in that hungry way like he wanted to ravenously devour you. The thought of it makes you throb.

‘You know, little one,’ your nickname name rolls off of his tongue in a way so sexy that you didn’t even have time to berate him for using it again. He’s standing in front of you; the smell of his cologne fills in the air around you. His body towering slightly over yours a few inches. ‘I’m starting to think that you care about me more then you let on.’

He takes another step towards you. Eyes breathing you in again.

‘In your dreams.’ You say, but the comeback is so pathetic neither one of them actually believes it. He hums in amusement, reaching up to twirl one of your loose curls around his finger. You hold in a shaky breath you weren’t even aware that you were holding.

His eyes flick down to meet yours again. His hands leave your hand in favour of resting steady on your hips. He begins to descend his hand lower, the material of your dress is smooth under the palm of his hands.

‘Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.’ He murmurs huskily, his own breath hitching as his hand proceeds lower. A shudder rolls down your spine when he reaches the edge of your dress, hand now grazing along your skin as it peeks from underneath the large thigh slit on your dress.

His tongue swiped across his lips, wetting the plump skin. He hovered just at your inner thigh, tentatively, cautiously waiting to see if you wanted him to stop.

You nod your head, giving him approval and consent to proceed.

His hand is warm against your bare skin; goosebumps prickle all over your arms. His fingers brush lightly against your thigh as they continue their sinuous path upward and underneath the material of your dress.

Your knees nearly give in beneath you when you feel his fingers tug at the ends of your underwear.

You wanted this so damn bad but— you place a hand over his, stopping his movement. You breathe heavily, licking your lips. ‘Not out here.’

They were still in the hallway after all and the way your body was nearly thrumming in excitement just thinking about what they were about to do; you wanted to have the privacy of as loud as you wanted to be.

You latched your hand onto his forearm and pulled him down the hallway along with you. They searched down the long corridor, twisting door handles to see which rooms were unlocked.

You push him into a room at the end of the hall; spacious and unlocked. It was nearly vacant save for a large wooden desk and a single office chair followed by a plethora of boxes surrounding it. Y/N closed and locked the door behind them. You barely had time to turn around before Mason grabs ahold of your waist and is pushing you up against the wall.

His lips hungrily after yours, pampering against your mouth in a ravenous vigour. Your back pressed against the door, leg hitching up and tossing over his waist as he placed a knee between your legs. You moan filthily in his mouth at the contact.

Needing more, Mason crouches down a bit so that he grabs ahold of your other leg. He’s effortless as he slides it around his waist and pulls your body closer so that their pelvic bones are now brushing against each other’s.

Your lips are swollen, sodden from his dewy kisses. The wisped air between them is hot and rugged as he presses his tongue against yours, ravishing in the taste of your glossed lips.

Mason softly gnaws on your lower lip, teasingly tugging at the plush skin as the tone of your breathy moans were in the air. ‘Mase,’ Y/N murmurs against his lips, your whimpers becoming the death of him.

He responded by rolling his hips against yours in a dry rut. You gasp, squeezing your thighs together as you reciprocate the gesture, giving your own grinding thrust against his now hard erection that was prodding against your centre.

Mason groans gutturally in response, pressing his wet mouth against yours with a vigorous, caressing the milky skin on you waist as he hikes your dress up a bit. You cup his face within your hands and fluctuate with him with slow, sensual kisses that make the grip he held around your waist suddenly tightens.

The way you were grinding against his erection, teasing his mouth with these feverish kisses nearly caused Mason to tumble over. Needing to balance himself and you better, he holds onto your thighs as he carries you towards the office desk, absentmindedly kicking the boxes aside that were in his path.

He sat you down onto the coldness of the office desk, slotting himself in between your legs again.

He pries his lips away from yours momentarily to gaze in your heavy eyes. You bite softly on your bottom lip, nodding your head as you feel his fingers hesitantly hovering over the waistband of your underwear. Mason spreads your legs open as he moves the fabric of your black laced underwear aside. You inhale a shuddered breath, gazing down as you watch Mason insert a finger inside of you.

‘Oh,’ your mouth is agape, eyes flutter as he moves his finger along your sticky warmth. Your hips move in tandem along to the messy movements of his fingers, you grind down on them, biting at his shoulder as you chase your orgasm. Mason’s laboured breath is hot against your ear.

You find his lips again, capturing them within the grasp of yours. The sound of your leaked slickness nearly draws Mason to his orgasm. He feels you quiver against his fingers. The erratic movements become more precise as he is determined to feel you drenched milky wetness against his fingers.

‘Mason!’ You repeat his name repeatedly, feeling the wave of your orgasm suddenly swallowing your whole. It spews out of you, right onto his fingers. Your face is nuzzled against the crook of his neck, you feel a sudden warmth pooling on your cheeks. When you breathing halts from its rugged labouring, you glance shyly up at him, feeling the creases of your lips curl upward.

‘You gettin’ shy on me, Y/N?’ He asks, licking his fingers clean.

‘You wish.’ You murmur, grabbing him by the collars of his shirt and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Mason’s lips pecked your lips thrice, moving lower, soft kisses against your collarbone and below your ear before eventually moving lower to suck and nibble on the exposed flesh of your neck. His puffed breath is hot against your skin, low and rugged. You feel him smirk against your neck, a throaty chuckle as he pulls back, just enough to glare up at you.

His lips are a pretty pink colour, plumped and completely kiss-swollen. His hair is tousled, from where your hands were tugging and pulling lightly. His face was flushed, cheeks were a faint pink colour, and the side of his neck was marked up with love bites.

You moan softly, your curly eyelashes flutter in content as he firms a grip on your bum and roughly squeezes each of your cheeks, bringing you against him and teasingly thrusting his hips forward, allowing you to feel the swollen erection that was hotly pressed against his thigh.

A broken moan fell from your lips again, hitching just in the apex of your throat. Your clit quivers at the contact, desperate to feel it again. ‘Please,’ you rasp; your throat heavy, voice too breathy to form any coherent words at the moment.

He hums, nodding his head as he leaned forward and nestled his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiarising scent. ‘I know,’ He says, now kissing your neck with fervour, fingers still splayed on your bum.

He understands your need, because he feels it too. His cock was straining against his boxers, wetness leaked from the flushed tip.

Their shaky hands worked together in tandem as he unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. They pooled around his ankles as his cock sprang free from his pants; erect and leaking with precum.

Mason’s hungrily slotting his insistent mouth along yours, dragging his tongue against your lips, parting your mouth open. His wet tongue intertwined within yours as they wrestled for dominance. In dire need of skin to skin contact, he pulls at your underwear sliding them down yours thighs. Mason lifts your hips in assistance. He tugs the tightness of your dress up until it’s bunched around your hips.

He could feel his lips going numb, lungs burning desperately, begging them to part for air. But, he ignored it and continued to kiss you perfectly succulent lips, nipping and tugging at the plush skin as you let a few of moans rang out of you. Mason glides his hands down your body, his palm slides over the torso of your stomach and recedes lower until he reaches you waist.

‘Condom?’ You pant heavily against his mouth, tongue gliding over your swollen lips.

‘Were you planning on getting lucky tonight?’ You tease, tilting a head at him.

He shrugs, smirking as he rips it open. ‘Always gotta be prepared right?’ And you only hum in response. He slides the latex material over his cock, it snugs fittingly around him. He leans forward, placing one hand on the desktop while the other wrapped around your waist pulling you closer.

You kiss him again. Slowly. Softly. Unhurriedly. You scoot to the edge of the desk and spread your legs open further enough for him to settle in between. He grabs hold of his cock and aligns it at you centre.

Fuck. You hiss, eyes rolling to the back of your head, stomach tightening in recoil when his tip spreads your slicked lips open. He prodded slowly, disappearing inside of you inch by inch.

Shit. He murmurs in a curse, looking down as he watches himself. You’re so tight and warm around him that it nearly makes him cum at the feeling of you enveloping him whole. His breathing’s rugged as he shifted his hips downward a bit so that their pelvis are aligned.

‘Yeah?’ He inquired, wanting to know if you were ready. You don’t respond verbally, only incites a grinding hip thrust forward that catches him by surprise.

He swallows, he reciprocates the hips thrust, emphasising the rotation of his hips as he retracted and filled you in a steady pace.

Y/N wants to cry at how good he feels around you, how his cock curled inside of you like it was made just for you. You’ve never had someone make you feel like this; so good and sexy while also making you feel cared for. You could practically feel his emotions through every hip rut as his pelvis chafed against yours.

Mason balances his weight on the balls of his feet as he filled you deeply, he groans as his forehead falls to your shoulder. Because holy fuck; you’re so perfect. So beautiful. And he wants to tell you that he wants more, a real relationship with you. But he wasn’t good with words. Nor with relationships. And he didn’t want to risk the possibility of ruining this; not the sex, the time he spent with you.

It would make you run away if you knew how he truly felt. He would rather be around you, secretly pining after you than for you to know of his feelings and not want to be around him anymore.

He knew the rules of their situation when they first agreed to this. No relationship, no emotions. Though he fails greatly at the latter, he would continue to be used as something to help you fulfil your needs when you need a release.

‘Getting tired up there?’ You quip playfully, your voice soft against his ear.

Mason fucks hard into you, causing you to yelp loudly. ‘Does that answer your question?’ He smirks, fingers digging into the skin on your ass cheeks.

Asshole.

The desk creaks beneath them, the hinges becoming wobbly with each pounding thrust he gives.

You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, pulling his head up. ‘My ass hurts on this. Get on the chair.’ He obliged without any retort because one, his feet were starting to hurt from standing too long and two, he loved the idea of Y/N riding him.

Pulling out of you sticky warmth, Mason eases into the spinning desk chair. He opens his legs widely, cock slaps against his stomach. Y/N hops off of the desk and approaches him. You hiked your dress up around your hips as Mason grabs ahold of himself.

You sit down on his thighs. You shifts your hips, dragging your milky wetness along his thighs as you straddle him. ‘Oh, fuck.’ He breathes. You lifts your hips, steadying your hands on his shoulders as you ever so slowly eased down onto his hard length.

You whimper at the same time he slurs a drowsy, ‘Y/N.’

Their chests heaved heavily, bodies shivered at the delicious feeling of his cock being nestled deeply inside of your clit again. His eyes narrowed, a line of sweat beads his brow, hands slightly trembled as he glanced down and enthralled at the sight of his cock inside of you, easing ever so gently inside of you.

‘Oh my god,’ you whimper, your head tossing backwards, mouth falling open.

Y/N swirled your hips forward, slowly, teasingly. Mason whimpered and his shaking hands instantly formed a hard grip on you waist. He recited his own thrust, lurching his hips forward with a shallow rut and lingered against you.

You make a breathy sound of pleasure again and he makes a mental note of it, keeping it in the back of his mind for the next time they have sex. ‘So good, Y/N. So beautiful.’ He mutters, his eyes now heavily focused on the sight of his cock extracting and reentering you, as you shifts your hips and bottomed him out completely until the tip of him prodded against your clit again.

You roll your hips in a whine and pressed your pelvic bone down onto his. You rise and lower on top of him, slowly, languidly.

You hike your legs up further, pulling them up until they rested around his waist. This elicited a sharper and deeper change in his stroke, You dug your fingers into his shoulders to steady yourself. You could feel your thighs clenching, your insides clamping around him.

He pulled his mouth to yours and you tongue into the wetness of his hungry mouth. You bite down on his lips when you feel your toes curl. He thrusts into you, grabbing your ass, pulling you already working hips closer to tousle him, pushing himself deeper.

You pause; chest heaving heavily when they hear the sounds of voices coming near. You wait to see if they would pass by, but the sounds kept getting closer.

It was no telling how long they would be out there but damn it, Y/N was almost finished and you could no longer wait. You reached down and picked up your underwear, stuffing them inside of Mason’s mouth. ‘Don’t make a sound.’ You whispered in caution, he answered with a head nod.

The chair, just like the desk, creaked, complains, beneath them and you know that you should care, but that caring, like everything else, has flown out of your head. Everything but the slickness of his cock filling you, the pressure against your clit every time he rolls his hips just so. The muscles in your leg stretch, right on the precipice of pain.

Their heavy breaths mingle and you choke back a sob once you feel your orgasm creeping up on you. Mason grunts as he thrusted shallowly inside of you. Your orgasm spills from inside of you and coats his condom covered penis.

Mason continued to thrust inside of you as he rode you through your orgasm, milking you completely dry. His hips jerk and it’s not soon before he’s filling you up with his own warmth, the evidence of their body fluids flowing down their legs.

Mason's face is flushed and sweaty, and his breathing is laboured. Mason's chest heaves as you come down from your ecstatic high.

You remove the bunched up underwear from his mouth. Mason kisses your shoulder, playful, and nips at your collarbone.

‘You okay?’

You can muster only a wordless noise of satisfaction as you sweep fingers through his hair.

‘Are you okay? You’re the one that looks worn out.’ You tease. Your legs burned and your body was completely spent. You knew that he too had been exhausted from their late night hookup.

His light chuckle is only the slightest bit smug. He shrugs a shoulder, hands reaching up to rub soothing circles against your back.

Something about it seemed so intimate. They didn’t do that. They didn’t cuddle after their hookups. They talked and made jokes but never cuddled. The fondness of it scared you.

As much as you did like Mason you couldn’t afford to get entangled with him or be in a relationship. You didn’t need distractions. You were at the height of your growing career, you didn’t want anything interfering with that.

‘I should get going.’ You announce amid the silence that hovered between them. You tap his thigh, nonverbally asking him to release the grip he had on you so that you could get up.

Easing his soft penis out of you, Mason watched as you slipped your pair of underwear that had been used as a restraint in his mouth no longer than a few minutes ago, back over your hips. You slid your dress back down smoothing a hand over it.

‘Hey, is everything cool? You’re acting weird.’ He’s worried standing to his feet as he pulls his own clothing back on. His usual teasing tone was absent and replaced with one of worry.

He pulled his pants on and zipped them up.

‘Yeah. I’m fine. I just need to get back before someone comes looking for me.’ You avoided his eyes, your movements were becoming more hurried. He frowns at the noticeable change in your demeanour.

‘Y/N-‘

‘I have to go. But we’ll catch up next time, maybe. I-bye!’ With that you hurriedly made yourself egress from the room, leaving Mason standing there dumbfounded.

Maybe he misread all of their flirtatious quips. Maybe you did just think of him as a meaningless hookup.

Are you making a mistake?

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober 16

Kink: Role play (Doctor + patient)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!Reader

warnings: SMUT, roleplay (doctor and patient), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, would 10000% be medical malpractice, improper use of a stethoscope, established relationship, 20000% cheesy, laughing during sex (not in a kinky or mean way just bc Dean almost ruins the moment haha), not beta'd

summary: You and Dean introduce roleplay to the bedroom to try out one of his fantasies. Dr Sexy is in the house

word count: tba

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

A/N: I am SO sorry ... not really, happy Kinktober! Just a quick one :) - Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

You were worried you wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face when your boyfriend walked in with the doctor coat on and a stethoscope around his neck but, you managed it. It wasn’t until he announced himself as Dr.Sexy, that you bit back a smile and luckily,  Dean was too deep into character to notice.

He was shirtless underneath but unfortunately the coat was buttoned. For now.

“What can I help you with today?” Dean’s tone is low as his eyes rake your form, sat diligently on one of the dining chairs you had snagged from the common room earlier that day. You had worn a low cut shirt and a miniskirt, both of which left very little to the imagination and flaunted the top of your thighs beautifully. You’re not nothing, if not well-prepared.

You cast your eyes up at Dean, pouting slightly. “Well, doc, you see I’m having trouble with cumming.”

Dean, or Dr. Sexy, immediately tenses, watching you bat your eyelashes up at him. He fights desperately not to curse and break character, but shit, the way you look right now has him hard already.

You spread your legs a little wider, miniskirt riding up ever so slightly. Deans breath hitches at the sight of your bare cunt under the miniskirt and his throat is dry.

"Let's see if I can help," he says hoarsely, inching forward. He picks up the end of the stethoscope and presses it to your clit. You yelp at the cold metal on the heat of your clit, but the rush of desire you feel is

Dean slips one finger into your pussy, curling it to reach that sweet, spongy spot that makes your toes curl. You tilt your head back biting back moans when he adds a second finger, stretching you wider over his fingers.

"Fuck, Dean-"

"Doctor," he corrects smugly and your lip twitches.

"Oh, doctor," you mock back. Big mistake.

Dean's thumb brushes your clit sending a wave of pleasure up your spine that makes you moan loudly. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, making Dean hiss as he pumps you with the always present tenacity he has.

But then he removes his fingers entirely, leaving you hollow and panting. You bite back a small whine which turns into a loud curse when Dean sinks to his knees and buries his face into your dripping core without a second thought.

Your hand slips into his hair holding him in place as his warm tongue gently teases your folds before swirling your clit. You move your legs to rest on his shoulders, watching him eat you out like he hadn't eaten for days. His green eyes meet yours from where he sits and you can feel a smug grin form against your heated, wet skin.

"Trying out a different prescription," He teases. Your mind falters and you frown, about to hit him with a comeback, but Dean goes right back to sucking at your clit. You heave breaths, the sounds your both making turning you on even more. When Dean re-adds his fingers you half scream in ecstasy.

"Dammit, you're so tight." He murmurs, taking another long languid lick.

"Dean," you huff impatiently, your eyes pleading.

Dean pulls away from you, face covered in spit and cum, grinning ear to ear. "Maybe you need some vitamin D instead."

You grimace and kick feebly at him, biting back a grin of your own. "Shut up."

Dean chuckles, eyes twinkling up at you from between your legs. He presses a soft kiss inside your thigh before standing up to unzip his pants.

"Okay, okay. Less talking, more action. Noted."

[annpluma]

Commissions Open!

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[ofmythsandmadness]

to be called beautiful | d.h.

❛ do you ever miss, having someone around to love you?❜

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SUMMARY: vigilantes!au. you push the boundaries of your relationship, and ask for a wish you know won't be given back. (or — it's late, and after another night of patrol, loneliness sets in deep.) WARNINGS: slightly nsfw??? mentions to sex, no descriptions. it's not a sexual story, just a part of an inner monologue. WORD COUNT: 2.6k+ NOTES: reposting this in hopes it shows up this time (pls pls pls i'm gonna cry). i've been writing a whole other series that is a totally different writing style, but i've been trying to work out my emotions in small, focused pieces like this one when i can't focus. i might develop this into a small ficlit series of it's own, bc i think it's kinda fun — but we'll see how this goes.

THE BEAST THAT IS YOUR LONELINESS has been your burden for too long to say.

It's hold on you is a familiar ache, one you've felt for years, like a chronic tight tugging on your heart that refuses to give in no matter what you try. But you still refuse to name it for fear of coming to terms with the implications of it all. That you're really alone in this life and you're terrified of what that means and the fact that you can't have what your childhood stories promised would be yours.

Like the fool you are, you cling to the idea that it's just passing notions. You'll get over it one day. The flitting daydreams of a fairytale romance better fit for a vanilla Hallmark flick suck, but one day they won't hurt so bad. You'll numb and find a way to fill the void. And you try, you really do, pushing it down for the quick release of meaningless acts and walks of shames and cold bedsheets.

Sex is a toxic friend. You choose it's pull when your heart aches most and the loneliness begs for your breath to the point where every gasp of air is a privilege, not the bare minimum. It's not what you crave. There's no romance, no love. It's a trade and one that always leaves you feeling robbed of something you're not sure you ever even had.

You rarely remember their names. You know they probably won't remember yours. And why would they? The shudders, the whimpers, the cold moans that amount to nothing but crumbs of a supposedly passionate act only pass an hour, then they're gone. Or you're gone, if you're lonely enough to risk it. A bit of fun, a breath of pink and white and the feeling of someone pulling you closer, begging for your skin against theirs.

And then, it's all grey again. And you're alone at your apartment, washing your body free of the marks some stranger dared to press into your wilting skin, wondering what it would feel like for a lover to kiss you that same way. Running your fingers over every inch that has been caressed by so many faceless guests, trying to hold yourself in the way your foolish heart pounds for. But it's never enough. Your hands don't cup your flesh, don't mould and kiss and promise the carefully knitted lies any lover had dealt you in the past. And you're as cold as ever when they fall back to your sides. Nothing enflames your skin like you wishes it could — like those you wish would.

It's a discontent you live with. Just as you're sure millions of others do. That's what life is; you push yourself through the day, through your mundane day job and your taxing nighttime hobbies (because you sure as hell can't claim what you do as real work if your only pay is in blood and tears). You cling to the good times that happened too long ago to remember clearly, and make the moments that you're alone with your thoughts as small as possible.

But there's no time to consider all that now.

You scrunch your face up as tight as you can, squeezing your eyes shut to the point where you see stars, exploding like confetti in some absurd black void that hides behind your lids. For a moment you hold the pose, watching the stars erupt, until the position hurts too much and you have to release.

Surroundings blur and then clear as your eyes readjust from their disassociation. You stare blearily at the random coffee shop you and your 'associate' chose for the night. It's just as generic as the last five visited, a thousand shades of brown and red and weary smiles the bored baristas wear just for a cheap check that'll barely cover their asses. It's worn and empty; no one's hear except the two of you and the workers who probably hate you for being here so late.

Normally, you would feel like an asshole staying so late. But you can't bring yourself to move, or even suggest to. It's all too heavy. And even if it's in brooding silence, you don't want to leave your partner. Not yet, you beg the universe, just a few more minutes.

And, speaking of—

"What's got you so blue today?"

You blink. Look over to him, only to see him already watching you.

There's really no point lying. He always unravels you too quickly, too easily — it's the detective in him, unravelling anyone and scooping their truths from shivering flesh. Some sort of childhood trauma response he developed into another super power.

You used to hate it. Now...if you concentrate hard enough, his sharp gaze feels like one of a lover's.

"Don't know what you mean," you tell him, foolish and flustered. "I'm just fine."

"Bullshit. You've sighed a dozen times in the last five minutes."

"Tch. No I haven't."

"Did too!"

His teeth glint, white and clashing against the full pink of his lips. You wish you could denounce all the times you wondered what it would feel like to have them graze against your keening skin — but not even all the gods could cleanse of you of those thoughts. Those desperate, pleading, melancholic memories stain; he can't see them, but you do when you look close enough. And you can't escape it, much as you try.

"Seriously, though. What's up with you?"

Your gaze falls down to your hands, eager to escape his allure, though it's not a great distraction. It only makes you more bitter, really, taking in all the flaws that litter your weaponised limbs. They're calloused from a million fights. Your knuckles are scarred, aching from wounds you reopen every other night. A thousand scars from a thousand scrapes, cuts, slashes and grazes linger on once perfect skin. You don't know how many there are, anymore, only that you wish you could wipe them off. Start over, have a clean slate. Erase all your mistakes and be beautiful again.

"I'm just tired," you lie. It's tense and pitiful; you know you've screwed it up the second the words leave your lips. "S'all."

"Ri-i-ight, and I'm the goddamn queen of England."

The absurdity of his retort makes your lips twitch. It's not enough for a smile, your self-inflicted misery makes sure of that, but it's a seed of something. "Wow. Didn't know I was in the presence of royalty."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut it."

"My apologies, your highness."

"Shut up, you little shit," he grumbles, but it's as soft as you get from him. It's practically a cry of love — or your foolish mind paints it as such. You take his teasing insults as promises of adorations and his arguments are poems of lust and infatuation that tug on your heartstrings in ways you know they shouldn't.

You're partners, for crying out loud. Professional coworkers (if you call the bloody mess you two create work). You don't get to miss him, or crave him, or love him like you do.

"Something happen to you?"

You watch his own hands fold and unfold on the table. The long, delicate fingers stand out on a man like him; someone who paints himself in only sharp angles and cutting lines. But you think they match him well. They promise life. Bleed hope, even in the raised scars that lace his skin like your own. You've watched those fingers grip a blade, launch it into flesh, pull and push and dig and rip and take and committed acts of atrocity most people would run from. You know he probably thinks of his hands the same way you do. But you think they're beautiful.

"Nah. It's...it's nothing. Really."

You can't see his face, but you imagine his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows asking for an answer you're just not willing to give. "C'mon, just tell me. Can't be that bad."

Your body laughs. You hear it from some place far away. It's cold and hoarse; you wonder how long it's been since you've heard a genuine laugh from yourself. You wonder if he notices (and wishes he did, foolishly, frivolously...).

It's probably stupid, but you go for it.

"You ever miss having someone?"

Something creaks; his chair, groaning as he shifts his weight. One of his fingers taps against his empty coffee cup; idle music for a restless soul.

"Like, in what way?"

"I..." Your nails dig into your palms. This was a mistake, but one you have to follow through with. He won't accept silence after something like that. "In the cheesy, domestic sorta way? That whole, havin' someone to come home to, someone who you can talk to, someone who..." the words stick like molasses in the back of your throat. Try as you do, they refuse to give themselves to him, so you have to substitute. "Just, someone who likes you, past your body or, or whatever."

"Oh."

"Sorry." It's your turn to shift in your seat, awkwardly searching for something to occupy yourself with as this uncomfortable energy you've created carries on. But your cup's empty, and you don't have the cash to ask for another overpriced latte. "Forget about it. Let's talk about somethin' else, yeah?"

He doesn't answer that. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all for a moment, long enough to make you wonder if you've just crossed the line of no return. You can't bring yourself to look at him, hell your cowardice is painful enough to make you wonder if you should just make a run for it, say au revoir! to the bond you've built with this knife-obsessed robin hood and crush your heart forever.

It's tempting, and you consider it, but then he fills the silence.

"I miss Eudora sometimes."

Finally, your gaze tilts up. Your eyes meet his lips. He's not smiling anymore.

You guys don't talk about exes together. It's a forbidden topic, same as family or childhoods or the number of people that have cut you open and bled you dry for fun. It's too personal, and in this line of work, personal doesn't fly. But you know Eudora Patch, because this line of work requires a couple run ins with people like her, and because your partner in crime has never learned how to stop his emotions from bleeding into his expression.

"Not because I still love her, but y'know..." his fingers wave aimlessly. "It was nice, when it worked. I liked having someone to sleep with. In a non-sexual manner." His lip curls a little. "Guess the sex part was nice too, though."

You nod. "Yeah, I get that. It's...it was nice, having someone who knew you. Who wanted to make you feel good, not just for themselves but 'cause that sort of things matters."

"Mm."

"Y'ever consider pursuing that sort of thing?"

He shakes his head. His adamancy is a truck smashing into your heart — though you know you should have expected no less, it still hurts. "I can't. It never works, with people like us. Y'know?"

"Yeah. Makes sense." You want to say more. You probably should say more — but you doubt he wants to hear your woes about intimacy, and the pathetic ways you crave affection you probably don't deserve. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Hm?"

His brows knot. "Why're you asking? Someone do somethin'?"

"What? No."

"Cause, like, if someone's hurt you, I'll—"

"I'm fine," you promise, and without thinking, you reach across the table to pat his hand. To reassure him like one would a lover. But just before your fingers meet his, the bitter reminder that he's not yours sets in and you draw back. Your hand falls a couple inches from his own. "And I can take care of myself, if I wasn't. Don't worry."

He chuckles mirthlessly. "Y'sure about that? You're still the dumbass that tripped over her own feet twice walking down an empty sidewalk, and—"

"—oh, you are such an asshole, why can't you just—"

"—so if you need someone to cut a bitch, I'm available."

You soften slightly. Try to smile, even if it's a false promise and probably hangs like a broken door on mismatched hinges. "I appreciate that. But I'm okay. Think I'm just tired, and a little lonely."

"What, I'm not good enough for you anymore?"

Bitterness seeps onto your tongue; it speaks before you can shut your lips around it. "You're fine as a partner against crime. But you're not anything otherwise, are you?" It feels like a taunt. You hadn't meant it to be — though, maybe you had.

If he takes your jeer poorly, though, it doesn't show on his face. He's still smiling and watching you, eyes simmering with a joke you wish you were in on.

"It doesn't matter though. Having someone's too complicated, 'specially for fools like us. Sometimes it's just..." you don't have a good answer. Not one he'd want to hear, anyways. "I just miss it sometimes. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, or eat breakfast with in the mornings."

He nods slowly. "Yeah. Was nice, having another body around."

"Yeah. Ha. I," you stutter out a chuckle. Tug at your lip, nibbling at the cracked skin that comes with your long nights. "No one prepares you for how lonely adulthood is. Like, I'm half tempted to make friends with the takeout guys, just so I have a friend at all."

"We're friends."

"You know what I mean," you mumble, swallowing the bitter 'are we?' that almost makes its way off your tongue. "It was just nice when I had the time, to have a person around. Someone to like, hold hands with, or-or call me beautiful, sometimes. I-I can't remember the last time called me that, any..."

Fuck.

You hadn't meant for that last confession.

He wasn't supposed to hear that. It's too personal, too personal, too fucking personal for someone you don't even know.

Everything trembles; you're shaking like an avalanche, ready to sweep it all away under some snow drift. Never to be seen again. But you can't do that, there's no taking back the way your voice cracked as it reaches it's last word, and how your hand slips into a fist, ready to charge even though there's no punching your way out of this fumble.

You crack. Stumble out of your seat. Before he can talk you're moving, throwing a couple bills (too many for your poor wallet, you'll pay for that later) down and mumbling something about heading home. Your head's spinning and you just want to sit down again, pretend like this never happened and ask about some meaningless moment in a meaningless day that you wish could be yours and his, not just—

"—text me when you're goin' out again," you say, high and nervous. "I'll be around."

You turn.

"You don't have to leave."

"I got work tomorrow. Early."

"Thought you had the day off?"

Fuck, la deuxième acte. "Taking a shift for someone."

"Oh." He doesn't believe you. He would be a fool to. But he agrees anyways. "Okay."

"See ya, Kraken."

He doesn't answer you back. It's probably better that way.

BONUS

Many hours later, you're in bed, finally dozing off. You've rinsed off the filth of the night and resigned yourself to a barely adequate rest alone, too tired to consider what usually makes your mind race. It's been a long day; let future you contemplate all the ways you've screwed up.

Just as you're about to fall asleep, however, there's a small ping! that immediately wakes you up A notification sound reserved for only one person.

You groan but still roll over. Your heart may be a humiliated, burning mess, but it still beats for him, much as you've tried to stifle it.

kraken // 2:36 am. you available at 11p tomorrow?

kraken // 2:37 am. got word somethin going down at east docks, wanna check it out before it gets bad.

Relief is a sweet blessing. You exhale and smile into the darkness. He's still a professional, even if you seem unable to understand what that means.

you // 2:40 am. for sure. meet me at my place whenever and we can prep.

You leave it at that. Whatever he has to say after that, cannot be too important to waste your precious hours of sleep. So you roll over and shut your eyes and let yourself forget about the empty space that fills your place.

It's a decision you regret the next morning, when you wake up and realise what you missed.

kraken // 3:31 am. you ever get lonely for someone, feel free to let me know.

kraken // 3:32 am. might not make a great boyfriend, but i'll eat breakfast with you. so long as you're cooking.

A/N - I had a whole idea for two tired vigilantes (like what Diego does in season one, but partnered up) who both are really lonely and tired of life and all it's shit, and rely on each other more than they'll ever admit, and...I'll probably never write it, but this was a fun bit of that. two lonely emotionally deprived assholes who can't accept that maybe they can be loved and the person who wants to is right in front of them. :)

[bbytetsu]

SHOPPING WITH 3RD GYM MEMBERS

author’s note: had to repost this bc i was having issues with my tags last night but that’s my own fault LMAO hope u enjoy <3 

Kuroo:

lives in gray sweats, hoodies, and his volleyball gear and calls it “aThLeIsUrE” he’s just lazy

so you take him shopping bc you’re tired of being the only one with style

little did u know shopping with him is an emotional rollercoaster

he will either roast the shit out of u

“damn that’s my lil oompa loompa w the overalls”

or compliment u with cheesy chemistry pickup lines

“wow... you look like an exothermic reaction in that. spreading hotness everywhere 😘”

regardless of whether he’s flaming you or flirting with you, there’s never a dull moment shopping with him

“kuroo what the HELL is that?”

“you said i could pull off anything!”

“not those JORTS” 

it’s the fashion fail of the century, worse than plaid oikawa

but when he does find clothes that suit him: REAL athleisure with a hint of streetwear/goth, you better be ready!

because if he catches you blushing or you compliment him, he will tease you endlessly

when shopping for his own clothes, he’ll buy things that will look good on you, too. says some dumb shit about “getting more bang for his buck,” but just wants to see in his oversized hoodies

lots of quick, heated makeouts in fitting rooms

despite the endless teasing and banter, his heart is so soft when shopping with you. might not verbalize it, but his constant smile and the way he looks at you gives it all away

Bokuto:

the perfect balance of shopping for him and shopping for you

acts like your sugar daddy, but is actually broke... hear me out lmao

he’s a reckless spender 

even if he’s not paying with his own money f in the chat for the fukurodani team and anyone else who lends him money

invests A LOT in athletic wear, and definitely collects volleyball shoes

always points out collaborations between sports brands and athletes and will go on tangents about having his own collaboration one day so cute we love and support a man with goals

always gets scammed by the small stands that sell the most useless things

will constantly surprise you with small gifts

“bo, what’s this?”

“oh! it’s for you. doesn’t it look like me?”

“where’d you get the money, though? i thought you still owed ak-”

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT!”  

extra af in fitting rooms. will strut down the hallway and pose. blows kisses at you in front of store employees

LOVES sending you mirror selfies, especially with ALL THAT CAKE

you once made the mistake of not replying, and he spiraled into emo mode

“(y/n)... do you think my ass flat or something?”

you make up for it by buying matching outfits/t-shirts with him. he loves that matchy matchy!!

tbh you should avoid shopping with him in general though if you don’t want him to feel the wrath of his moneylenders

but that’s easier said than done. it’s impossible to feel anything less than pure joy when shopping with this ray of sunshine!!

Akaashi:

he’s practically your personal stylist. he has IMPECCABLE taste

plus he’s so patient and sweet when shopping with you. will carry your bags, will wait in lines for you, lets you take your time

very lowkey pda with him. just holding hands, quick pecks here and there

loves taking mirror selfies with you! always makes them his wallpaper 🥺

when you force him to shop for himself, he always leaves you speechless with how good he looks in everything. unlike kuroo he can pull off jorts

his style? classic, well-tailored, but not afraid to try some more experimental pieces (think opening ceremony). he has serious off-duty model energy

when you get tired of shopping for clothes, you’ll stop by the bookstore

and of course, he’ll lose track of time as soon as he begins thumbing through books

one time, you thought he had already left the bookstore since it had been so long, so you left to find him

he somehow noticed you leaving and practically sprinted after you. mans has never been so PRESSED

would not stop pouting like a lil puppy for the rest of the afternoon

“are you still mad, keiji?”

“no, why?”

“you’re frowning a little bit.”

“i’m not frowning...” he says as he continues to visibly pout

you buy boba for him and are extra affectionate to make up for it. our lil foodie can’t stay mad

shopping with almost always ends up with a cute dinner date. he makes reservations beforehand like the most perfect boyfriend he is

Tsukishima:

will refuse to go shopping with you at first, but it’s secretly because his heart can’t handle seeing you in cute clothes

you will have to bribe him with coffee listen i KNOW that tsukishima is a coffee addict

his style is also classic, but boringly so. does all of his shopping online, so he’s just here for you tbh

just walking around, he’ll literally find anything to criticize

“i’m not going in that store. reeks of vsco girls and daddy issues”

“why are they selling those ugly ass jorts. i bet kuroo would be stupid enough to wear those” i mean, he’s not wrong like

“the floor looks musty as hell in here. you would think they own a mop if they’re going to charge you $72 for a blouse”

but once in a while, just for you, he’ll put a pause on the bullying when you’re trying on an outfit he likes. highest form of a tsukki compliment is when he blushes a little and says “i guess that one’s okay”

he might roast the shit out of you but will never let anyone else bully you

if a salesperson rude to you two, he will ask to speak to the manager

will fight rude salespeople, their manager, the district manager, all the way up the corporate ladder just for you

you’ll take him to a nice cafe to calm his nerves. nothing like a cold brew to soothe the soul 😌

he won’t let this ruin your shopping trip, though. will try to keep lower his snark afterwards so that you can still have a good time, though he’ll never admit it

and you will definitely have a good time, because when he’s not directing it at you, his snarky commentary can be fun. and seeing him flustered when you’re wearing a cute fit? even better

[imagines-r-s]

sticking it - j. farabee

chapter 5

a/n: um, y’all might not like me once again, but it’s good for character development. (also i had to repost bc the tags weren’t working, so if you’re seeing it again, don’t stress)

taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland​ @lovenhlboys​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @hockey-racing-fubol​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @iwantahockeyhimbo​ @bbbbruins​ @dreamsndior

warnings: angst. angst. plot twist a tad bit more angst. kathryn. sad joel. simp joel. simp nation for both of them. (nicole being the bestest friend ever. adrian being adrian *chef’s kiss*)

sticking it masterlist

wc: 4.5k (these keep getting longer and longer)

(gif not mine)

“Ok, ladies. There’s exactly one week until the U.S Classic. For the Junior Division, the few of you that are here right now will be getting exposure to bigger competitions that you will have in the future. This week the three of you are going to be hitting a few routines on each event and then marking the rest of them. We’re not throwing any new skills into the mix, we’re just taking this week to perfect what we have.

For the two of you in the Senior Division, perfection before progress is our motto for this week. We’re not throwing anything huge or difficult, we just perfect routines and move on. For all of you, sometime this week, we will have a mock competition where you’ll go and perform each event as if it were at a meet. Afterwards, if there’s anything a coach tells you to work on or if there’s anything you fall on, you’ll go back and work on that skill or event,” Michelle told everyone as you did your morning line up, “alright, you all know which event to start on first, so let’s just go and have a good week.”

Shortly after that, everyone went to their first event. For many, they went to the event that needed the most work, but you decided to avoid the event that you needed the most work on, instead heading to work on bars first.

“Is there a particular reason that you’re not working your beam dismount?” Nicole asked, as the two of you got chalk.

“No. I’m just working what I need to,” you said.

“y/n, c’mon, that dismount is what needs the most work right now. I understand if you don’t want to work anything major, but you haven’t even done a triple off the actual beam yet. I just don’t want you to beat yourself up for not working it.”

“It’s fine, Nicole. I’ll figure it out,” you left Nicole at the chalk box and started working on your bar routine. Nicole watched as you started your routine, you were making subtle mistakes that she wouldn’t have picked up if she wasn’t watching you so intently.

She winced as you fell on a release skill, a skill that you could easily do in your sleep. Watching as you took a deep breath before getting back on the bar, doing the rest of your skills, and not missing the way your face slightly twisted in pain from the impact of the landing of your dismount.

As you made your way back to the chalk box, she also saw the slight falter in your steps. “Dude, is your knee okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just landed weird, I’ll walk it off eventually.”

“y/n, look. I’m just putting this out there, but don’t be afraid to take a break.”

“I don’t exactly have time for breaks right now, but thanks,” you huffed before leaving to work a few skills in your bar routine. Nicole knew you well enough to know that you weren’t doing okay, you hadn’t been since you came back from the lake. You hadn’t exactly told her what had happened, but she knew it had to have happened while you were gone. You were never one to talk about your feelings and she was never one to push you to talk.

The rest of practice couldn’t have gone worse. There was wobbling on basic skills, missed landings, and lots of falling. Lots and lots of falling. Worst of all, anytime you would get on the beam to do the dismount, you would psych yourself out, until you eventually would give up and go back to a different event.

You knew it wasn’t just gymnastics that was stressing you out right now, there was the stress of Kathryn competing the skill that you had worked your ass off to get and when you were about to get the credit for doing said skill, you got hurt; there was the fact that the U.S. Classic was indeed a week away and the first of five practices right before had gone terribly; and then there was the stress of the fact that you pushed away the one person that only wanted what was best for you.

As you drove home, you had a simple plan of going straight to bed as soon as you got home. You didn’t want to have to deal with all your thoughts racing right now and although you were avoiding something with sleep, you thought it might be the best option for right now. Once you got inside your apartment, you kicked off your shoes, grabbed one of your smoothies from the fridge, and made a beeline towards your room.

The next practice went almost the exact same; falling on basic skills, not going for the dismount, and your mind being a thousand miles away. You were hopeful that whatever was going on wasn’t super obvious, but by the time practice was over Marcus had pulled you into his office to talk to you.

“What’s up?” you asked, walking into his office and closing the door behind you.

“What’s up with me? No, we’re here to talk about you. Like what the fuck is going on with you right now?”

“I’m just stressed about this weekend that’s all,” you shrugged.

“Look, I’ve known you long enough and I’ve seen you when you’re nervous about a comp and it never looks like this. So, I’m asking again, what’s going on with you right now?”

“There’s nothing going on, I’m telling you,” you practically yelled.

“y/n,” he sighed, “we let you have a break because you were doing fine other than your dismount, which you were making progress on, but now, you’re just going backwards instead of forwards. I don’t know what happened or what’s going on - and I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about it - but whatever it is needs to get figured out. If you can’t do at least five triple dismounts in the next two days, you’re just doing your double back dismount and you aren’t working the 3.5.”

“Wha-? Marcus, what the fuck? No, that’s not fair.”

“It’s perfectly reasonable actually, if you aren’t doing them at practice, you aren’t competing it. I have always made that clear. Right now, your head is not in what you’re doing, and it’s fairly obvious the only thing motivating you is that Kathryn might be competing it and with how your attitude is right now, that combo will only end in bad news.”

You knew he was right, he had known you long enough to know the way you got in your head about anything, so right now with the combo of everything going on, it made sense. “Marcus, I’ll drop the attitude, whatever. But I can’t deal with what will happen if she competes that dismount this weekend.”

“Ok, you say that, but I want proof. The words coming out of your mouth mean nothing, unless I see you actually doing what you say you will. I love you and I want you to be able to say that skill that hurt you is now named after you, you deserve that, but right now, you’re wearing yourself out trying to prove yourself and it’s only hurting you. You need to figure out whatever is going on up here,” he said, pointing to his head, “before you can work out the physicality of it. Now you have tomorrow to do those five dismounts and if you don’t do them, we’ll work them after this competition.”

Not trusting your voice right now, you simply nodded your head before turning and leaving his office towards your car. Taking deep breaths, you finally sat down in your car, closing your eyes for a moment as your eyes had started watering. Right now the pile of things going on in your life was just growing and you knew if tomorrow’s practice didn’t go good, you would be a wreck.

Pulling out your phone, your first instinct was to go to your messages and text Joel, but something in you was telling you that it was way too soon and that you would only get no response in return. So, instead, you pulled up Spotify and turned on one of your sad playlists just to really set the mood.

…..

You weren’t aware of it, but it wasn’t just you that was a mess. Joel had started packing his stuff as soon as he got back to his room, he knew there was no way he would be able to see you the next day without yelling or crying or letting out whatever emotion he was feeling. He didn’t really even know what he was feeling. Heartbreak? Anger? Sadness?

He couldn’t even wrap his head around what had happened. He had firmly believed when he asked what was going on between the two of you, that you would say something more - anything more - than just friends. Maybe he had been naive, interpreted the situation wrong, but everything was pointing in the right direction.

If you had said anything other than what you had, he would have understood. You want to focus on gym? Ok, he’ll be there on the sidelines supporting you. You can’t do a relationship with everything else going on in your life? Ok, we’ll take time and figure stuff out. But with the certainty that you said the two of you were nothing more than friends, knocked every expectation he had out the window.

He wasn’t saying that he was the perfect guy, he knew he was far from it, but he wanted to figure things out with you being there beside him. Maybe not for the long run, but for the time being he was perfectly fine with what was going on.

As soon as he got home from the lake, he kept to himself for a few days, only coming out because he had a practice. He tried to keep up with everything, but somehow his motions were too slow and he wasn’t catching onto what was happening around him quick enough. Everyone around him was noticing that something was off, but nobody - not even those that were at the lake - knew what was up.

The practices they had that week all kinda played out the same, Joel, who was usually on top of everything and one of the most consistent players, wasn’t playing the way he usually did. Everyone on the team was worried based off of how practices were going, but anytime they tried to talk to him, he simply brushed it off or left before an actual conversation could start.

There were nights that he laid in bed and ended up with your contact pulled up on his phone, or he saw something funny that he knew would make you laugh, but right now, he didn’t know how he should react to what had happened. He didn’t know the rules that he had set in place by walking away that night.

With games on both Wednesday and Thursday that week, he knew he needed to step up. He had to put his feelings aside and be there for his team. That plan worked out well during the Wednesday night game, he didn’t score, but he was able to be there for his team. With the emotions that came from a win, he was able to ignore everything else he felt for at least a while.

Thursday's game did not play out the same way. Joel was making simple mistakes that cost him from making goals and he wasn’t happy about it. He caught a few too many penalties that night and was almost benched because of it. The Flyers lost against the Capitals by one point, which brought down everyone’s mood.

“Yeah, y/n/n isn’t doing all that great right now. She’s not doing any of her dismounts that she needs to and I guess Marcus said she had to do so many or else she wasn’t competing them, but I haven’t heard if she got them done. So, we’ll see how that goes tomorrow,” Joel overheard Kevin tell Nolan.

“She competes tomorrow night, right?” Nolan asked, as he grabbed his bag.

“Yeah, you still want to come? I think she could really use that pep talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, dude. Teeks has plans with Karly, so it’ll just be us, I think.”

Joel wanted to say something, but he didn’t think you’d want him there. To put it simply, he did miss you, but he just wanted an explanation of what had happened. That night as he had your text messages open, he could have sworn he saw the bubbles that meant you were typing show up.

…..

A knock at your door broke you out of your thoughts, knowing that it was Kevin who was knocking you quickly opened the door and made your way back to your room, “well, hello to you, too, y/n/n. You really know how to make visitors welcome.”

Kevin quietly followed behind you to your room, quickly taking notice of how you had decided to empty out your gym bag on your bed and lay all your leos out on your bed, “so, how was practice this morning?” Kevin asked, softly.

“It was practice,” you said, grabbing your hairspray from your bathroom.

“Scale of 1-10?”

“3.25.”

“That’s specific?”

“Well, some good things happened and some didn’t so, there we go,” you grabbed your garment bag out of your closet.

“Did you do the dismounts?” Kevin asked, watching as you visibly tensed.

“No and Marcus is making me do my stupid back up dismount because I can’t do the twisting dismount. And now Kathryn is going to do the dismount, and get it named after her, and she’ll have that over me. Plus, everything with Joel is kinda up in the air right now and I don’t know what to do about that one.”

“What happened with you and Beezer? Are you just going to waltz around the issue or are you going to tell me what happened? It stays between us, but if it’s something I need to beat up Beezer for, just ask nicely.”

You rolled your eyes, but you knew you would have to talk it out sooner or later, “uh, after you guys left, me and Bee had a discussion about what we were, and I said we were just friends.”

“Oh, damn. Shit, I mean, wow, truly remarkable.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kev. I get it.”

“Ok, so I’m going to assume that Beezer wasn’t too happy about it?” Kevin asked, earning a nod from you, “so, you just didn’t talk it out like civilized individuals or am I missing something here?”

“Well, more than just the flirting happened, nothing super crazy, but yeah, so he was very - understandably - upset by me saying we were just friends.”

“And again, you guys didn’t just talk it out like civilized individuals?”

“No, he was gone before I could talk to him.”

“Don’t you kids have phones or something? You guys aren’t going to figure shit out if you don’t talk to each other?” Kevin asked, like it was the most obvious option.

“Yeah, I know, but like,” you sighed, “yikes. You know. What the fuck do I say ‘hey Bee, I was actually just joking when I said that. Haha, you’ve been pranked’ not exactly a smooth recovery, you know.”

“You’re helpless. I think you should focus on the competition that you have tomorrow and worry about the bigger problems later. C’mon, I’ll help you pack,” and once he knew that you were all ready for your competition, he made his way back to his apartment.

…

Stepping out of the arena’s locker room stall, you made your way over to the sink to do your hair and makeup. You stayed by the sink, considering that Nicole was still changing, when the one person you didn’t want to talk to stood right beside you, “hey y/n. How’s that dismount coming?”

“How’s your mom coming?” you replied, plastering a fake smile on your face.

“Awe, wow, that’s real mature of you. I know you’re just upset that your beloved plan of getting your dismount named after you isn’t going the way you wanted and to think if you didn’t get hurt, you’d have it named after you already. Hm, how devastating.”

“Ooh, Kathryn, impressive vocabulary. I’m glad to see you finally opened that thesaurus I got you.”

“Look, y/n, I know that you’re just projecting negative emotions because you’re upset that I compete on beam before you do. It’s okay, we all feel bad sometimes,” Kathryn added.

“Oh, and she’s learned about projecting negative emotions. I’m very impressed.”

“y/n, you’re just mad because everyone knows that you’re burning out and that you shouldn’t have tried to make a comeback after your injury. Get over it or get out of this sport,” she said before walking away.

Staring up at the ceiling to keep whatever emotions you could at bay, you didn’t notice Nicole come up right beside you, “you know what she said wasn’t true, right? You’re proving to everyone just how amazing you are by coming back, please don’t let that bitch get to you.”

“No, but she’s right about the dismount. Right now, I’m not where I need to be and people are noticing. I shouldn’t be here,” you said, finally looking her in the eye.

“y/n. Stop. Seriously, this pity party is not going to work today. You’re going to go out there and kick ass, like you always do. I don’t care if she’s doing the dismount, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now, shut the fuck up and go out there and prove her and anyone else that doubts you wrong,” she said, “we’re not leaving here until I see a genuine smile on your face.”

Laughing at your best friend, you made your way out to the tunnel for your pre-competition rituals. Eventually, Nolan and Kevin made their way towards you, which did lift your spirits a lot. Nolan gave you your usual pep talk and talked you through all your routines until they called out the announcement for warm up to start.

Starting on vault, you did two of the best vaults you could, you weren’t going to let Kathryn get to you today. When you were warming up on bars, you noticed Kathryn warming up on beam. Taking a deep breath, you tried to ignore the way your heart fell when you saw her land the dismount that you were supposed to be doing.

Attempting once again to ignore her, you started competing your bar routine, making all the release skills that were causing you issues during practice, connecting all your skills, and sticking your dismount; a near perfect routine in your book. The smile that had grown on your face, slowly falling as you saw Kathryn start her routine.

Her routine was near flawless, with only slight wobbles in there. You had watched her routine enough times to know when her dismount was coming up, biting at your lip, you tried not to show too much emotion on your face - knowing that the media would just eat it up. But then she landed it.

She landed it. The 3.5 dismount that you had worked your ass off to get, was now named after her. And you had yet to even do the dismount again since your injury.

Your breath hitched as you watched her salute before walking away back to her coaches. “C’mon, y/n. We still have two events to do. Don’t get in your head now,” Michelle said, ushering you towards the beam.

It’s a lot easier said than done to not get in your head about your competitors when in this sport. A sport where the smallest deductions could cost you so much, but right now you just had two routines left.

Working up the courage to get on the beam and do your routine, you fell twice and somehow stepped out on the double back dismount. You didn’t miss the way that Marcus’ face fell slightly, but he knew you would be fine on floor.

He knew you well enough to know that with floor being your strongest event, there were only a few ways that you would get deductions, he knew that you could come back from what had happened on beam. Sticking all your tumbling passes and doing perfect leaps and jumps, you were able to make up for the score on beam and qualify for Championships next month.

You avoided looking at Kathryn, knowing she would just send a smirk your way, you accepted the awards that you got and made your way back to the locker room. Getting 1st on floor, vault, bars, and all around, and 3rd on beam, you practically threw the medals that you got on the counter and your hands gripped onto the edge of the sink as you tried to settle your breathing down.

Nicole stood watch at the door to make sure that no one came in until you had calmed down and she also made sure that you didn’t have to deal with media before you got to Kevin. Kevin and Nolan simply took you back to their apartment so that you wouldn’t be alone. Luckily, they understood that you didn’t want to talk right now, so they let you go to the guest room that already had enough clothes in there for you and let you go to sleep.

“You think she’ll be okay?” Nolan asked, grabbing a water bottle from their fridge.

“She just has a lot going on, I think she’ll be okay sooner than later. I did find out what happened at the lake - I can’t share - but I am aware of what happened and they’re just being idiots, that’s all.”

“Makes sense.”

When you woke up the next day, you quickly took note of the pain that you felt in your knee, brushing it off as general soreness, you made your way towards the kitchen.

“Hey y/n/n, Kev is on his way back from getting breakfast, so if you want to stay and join us, you are welcome to,” Nolan’s voice rang from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I will. Thank you,” you replied, softly, taking a seat on one of the barstools.

“You doing ok?” he sighed, “That’s a dumb question. How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing as okay as I can be, you know. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Shortly after, the door opened once more, “I come bearing gifts,” Kevin said.

“I always knew you were good for something,” you replied, earning a fist bump from Nolan. As you stood up from the barstool, the pain in your knee caused you to wince.

“y/n, you good?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I think my knee is just sore or something from yesterday, it’ll be fine.”

“If it gets worse, you better tell me.”

“Yeah, of course, Kev.”

The ‘general soreness’ you felt lasted a few days before Kevin got to the end of his rope, “c’mon, we’re going to see Adrian.”

“Why?”

“Your knee hasn’t gotten any better. That’s not just your knee being sore, something is wrong and it’s obvious. So, let’s go.” Kevin knew that if he didn’t do something that the pain in your knee would only get worse, he knew you would keep pushing it until you absolutely couldn’t. He didn’t want you to have to stop what you loved because you were too stubborn to do anything, so he called Adrian, who immediately told him to bring you in.

“Ah, there’s my superstar,” Adrian said, watching you walk into his office.

“I don’t want to be here, but it’s nice to see you, Adrian,” he simply rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, Ms. Stubborn, we know you didn’t want to be here, but it’s the smart thing to do. I know you’re not used to making decisions like that, but here you are,” Adrian said, simply pointing to the bench, knowing that you had been here enough times to know what to do.

You watched as Adrian’s face changed as he examined your knee, “have you been working the landing on events constantly? Yes or no?”

“I mean, recently, kinda. I did a lot of reps for bars and vault, that’s kinda the only landings I was doing, why?”

“I hate to say it, but it looks like the running and landings are putting too much pressure on the knee right now. Have you worn tape or your brace recently?”

“No, but I thought it was fine.”

“Yeah, of course you thought it was fine. How much have landings been hurting your knee recently, 1-10?”

“5?”

“y/n, I know when you’re lying, today is not the day.”

“7 to 9, it just depends.”

Adrian took a deep breath, “alright, well, I need you to wear your brace almost 24/7 for the next 14 days-”

“Adrian, no, I can’t do that.”

“You can and you will, babes. I’m not taking suggestions right now. 2 weeks with the brace and crutches, nothing other than ab and upper body workouts, and no hard landings. Then, another 2 weeks, with athletic tape and still no hard landings. If you do bars, no dismount, definitely no tumbling, you can do leaps and jumps, but keep it to a minimum.”

“Adrian, what? No, you don’t understand, I-”

“You want to go to the Olympics, yes?” you nodded, “well, with the amount of pressure and amount you’re overworking it, your knee won’t be ready unless you take a break now. And you have to actually listen to me this time. I want you to succeed, but you have to listen in order to be able to.”

“I’m telling Kevin, too, so that way you actually have to do it. But once those 4 weeks are up, we’ll check and make sure it’s looking good and you should be fine.”

“Adrian, that only gives me like two weeks before Championships and I have to do good during that or I won’t qualify for trials.”

“Love, sometimes you just have to trust things to work out, okay? It’ll all work out, I promise you. Now, how’s lover boy?”

“You can’t just change topics like that, dude. I’m still mad about the other thing,” you shot a glare at the man in front of you.

“You’re fine. Chill out, sweetheart. Now, how is lover boy?”

“They aren’t talking,” Kevin’s voice echoed as he came into the office.

“Why?” Adrian asked, turning to you.

“Stuff happened and I bailed,” Adrian rolled his eyes at you once again.

“Dumbass. You’re a dumbass. He’s good for you or he seems good for you, at least from what I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, he is. He’s great,” you smiled.

“So then, what the fuck are you doing here? Go talk to him, text him, call him, something. You have a phone, use it.”

“It’s not-”

“It’s only not that easy because you’re making it 100 times more difficult. Communicate. Go get your man and stop being stupid. Now, listen to what I said about both things, enjoy your time with the crutches again, and go talk to your boy.”

[beermanoftana]

gee, thanks, karen [peter parker]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

relationship: peter parker x stark!reader

warnings: swearing, none; mistakes here or there

request (anon): hello!! how about hoco stark!reader x peter where he goes to her lab and asks for her help to fix the suit bc karen isn’t working well lately and while they low key flirt and fix the suit, she puts on the mask to check everything and karen starts telling her how much peter likes her, and she dies inside bc she likes him too and they kiss? maybe ending with irondad or bucky interrupting and they are like :o

notes:   i was going to use the other character in the end but i realized continuity wouldn’t make sense but then i was like fuck that, but I finished it already anyways…second out of the two peter parker x reader fics, it’ll be awhile before i agree to make them again

summary: karen’s broken and peter asks y/n stark for help

You were quietly working in your lab, humming every now and then to a tune that would pop into your head every so and so.

You thanked your father for giving you your own lab in the Avengers compound. There were cameras everywhere on your floor and you knew that he would be watching your every move when he could. Sometimes, you would wave at one camera when you knew he was in the control room. It would never fail to make you giggle, and Tony would always comment that you are such a silly little girl for laughing at your own antics.

Sometimes, some of the team members would come over and ask for your help if Tony was busy. Or they were too lazy to think of solutions on their own. But hey, who’s complaining about helping them?

They would need help with their gadgets, sometimes for work or fighting, most of the time for their everyday use, like their cellphones and laptops, tablets and watches. You don’t mind. In fact, you enjoy it. It makes you feel useful in this compound filled with superheroes.

Your favorite to help out was Peter Parker. He was also a genius with technology, but sometimes he needed a hand with his suit and weapons. You loved helping him out with his webshooters since there were so many possibilities for it. You were even the one who helped your father create his current suit with the Karen interface.

And although Peter turned down the calling of being an Avenger, he would still come over from time to time, and you noticed it’s mostly just to talk to you.

That thought made you smile. You stuck out your tongue and giggled a little in giddiness.

You continued to type in some data in the paper you were writing on. As much as you loved the technology of your father, you still loved the old fashioned pen and paper. It was easier to overlay if needed. You wanted to see all the possible choices before you typed it in the database.

But you thought of Peter again and that tickled your body. “Oh, come on. He isn’t over Liz Allan yet, you silly. He’s still hungover, he can’t be into me that quick. Can he?” But you shake your head.

You’re pretty good at telling if someone liked someone, except of course, when it came to you. But you pretend you do anyway. You have yet to be proven wrong. You smile and nod your head slowly, twirling the pen in your hand with your fingers. “Looks like you’ve got your groove on, y/n Stark.”

“What was that?”

You turned around, surprised to see your father standing behind you. A device in hand and a hologram sticking out. “Hi, Dad.”

“You’ve got your what on, y/n?”

You giggled nervously. “Nothing. It’s nothing, Dad. I was just talking to myself.”

“No, I wanna hear what you said. You’ve got your what on, y/n Stark?”

You sighed in defeat. “My groove,” you said softly.

“I can’t hear you.”

“My groove,” you repeated louder.

“Your groove, huh?” Tony nodded his head. “Well, you know what you should have, y/n? Your homework.”

“Dad,” you whined. “I’ll do that later. I’m in the middle of a discovery here.”

“Oh really? What is it? The end of homework.”

You raised your pen in the air. “That will be my project!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Okay, whatever. Just hurry so you can finish your homework. It’s a school day tomorrow, y/n. Remember that.”

You smiled sweetly. “Yes, Daddy.”

Tony left the room, leaving you alone.

You turned back to your paper and grit your teeth. So you lied about making a discovery. You were simply testing out some different designs for a suit you wanted to wear. It was very similar to the technology of your father’s but it had no name yet, you didn’t know what to call it, not even a working name.

You sit on the stool and tap the pen on the paper. “If I do this…then this happens, which, of course, I can’t let that happen. So I have to do this…but I have yet to figure out how this one works for it to be able to do that.” You sighed in frustration. “Okay, but if this does happen, which leads to this, then perhaps, just perhaps, it will reach my goal.”

You spin the chair around a few times until you get dizzy. “But we can’t say anything precise with just ‘perhaps’ can we? Oh, y/n, you gotta try a bit harder if you wanna reach the Tony Stark level.”

Finally, after about an hour, you decided that you’ve had enough. You shut down your lab and head to your room to do some homework. “See you tomorrow,” you said with a yawn. “To new discoveries!” You raise your balled fist in the air.

You’re in the middle of a math problem when someone knocks on your door. You groan, you like math and you were getting the answer to this certain number.

“Come in!” you called out, not bothering to look at the door. It was probably just your dad and you wanted him to see you concentrating.

“Hey, y/n.”

You looked up at the young voice. It was Peter Parker and he was holding his Spider-man mask in his hand. “Oh, Peter. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“When am I ever expected?” he snickered.

You smiled and laughed a little. “True.”

“Am I disturbing you?” he asked. He gestured toward your table and smiled. “You look like you’re doing some homework.”

“It’s no problem,” you said with a shrug. “It’s just math.”

“Which you absolutely love,” he responded with a cheery tone. He knew that was something you two had in common. “You hate it when you’re being interrupted when you do your math problems.”

You squint one eye. “That is true, too.” You looked at him for awhile before he raised his eyebrows. “Will you just let me finish this one math problem. I’m almost done, I swear. I just need a few digits to write. Sit.”

He laughed and nodded as he sat on the other chair. “There’s no need to explain, y/n. I’m the intruder and I interrupted you during your favorite subject. Go on, go on. Take as much time as you need.”

You smiled and half-jokingly said, “You say that and I’ll finish the whole homework.” Then you continued answering the number. After you’ve secretly finished answering one more number, you turned back to him and grinned. “Done! Now what did you want to talk about?”

“There’s something wrong with Karen,” he replied, holding up his mask.

“Oh no!” You exclaim, standing up and grabbing his mask. “Not Karen! What did you do, Peter Parker?”

He laughed nervously. “I may have fallen flat on my face.”

You looked at him immediately. Now that he mentioned it, his nose was a bit broken and he had a cut on his lip and some scratches along his face. “Are you okay?” you ask, although you know that it’s too late to ask that now. “Have you gone to the clinic?”

“I can’t go to my school’s infirmary or the hospital and mobile clinics,” he chuckled, “without being asked what had happened.”

“Why don’t you go to the one downstairs?”

He shrugged. “Can we fix Karen first?”

You sighed. “Okay, sure. Come on.”

The two of you left your room and walked over to your lab.

You tinker with the technology your father put in but you also recognize some of the pieces you’ve planted in the interface.

Peter did everything he could to help, in fact, there were moments wherein his mind thought of the better solutions. You weren’t undermining his brains, no, of course not, but you were also thinking of your own pride, you did put some of the tidbits that was the reason as to why Karen had come to life.

“You’re really good at this,” Peter said.

“Only because I want to impress you,” you replied. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Parker.”

“Only because a pretty girl is with me.”

You look at him with a smirk playing in your lips. “So how’s Liz Allan holding up?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she hates me.”

“I would hate you, too. You know, if you told me you needed a rain check for our homecoming date when we’re in the homecoming dance.”

“Aw come on, I’d never do that to you, y/n. I like you.”

You laughed. “And I like you, too.” You shake your head. “Go to the clinic, Mr. Parker. We’re almost done with Karen.”

He sighed and patted his mask. “See you, girl.”

You snickered.

After a few minutes, you think Karen is doing okay. So you do the thing everyone would do to test it out, you wear the mask.

“Hello, y/n.”

“Oh, hello, Karen. I didn’t know you still remembered me.”

“I will always remember you, y/n. Peter thinks very highly of you.”

“He does?” you gasped.

“Yes. He would constantly talk about you, asking me if you’re okay. I would watch him talking to himself in the mirror, practicing how to ask you out. He likes you very much, y/n. And based on your facial reaction and heatwave, I can tell you like him, too.”

“Y/n!”

You unmasked yourself and see Peter with a red face. “I can explain,” you both said at the same time. “I like you!” Again, in unison.

Peter rushed towards you to give you a kiss. “I know Karen said I’ve been practicing,” he said against your lips, “please don’t watch those. Those are really embarrassing.”

“Your nose is still broken,” is all you can say, murmuring.

“I’ll go later,” he said.

You giggle. “There are cameras, we’ll get cau–”

“What is going on here?” Tony’s voice boomed.

“Oops,” you both say, a goofy smile on your faces.

[letitrainathousandflames-archive]

AND THE WINNER IS OBIVENTRESS HATEFUCK EXTRAVAGANZA, RING DING DING NOW CATCH YOUR PRIZE!! (REPOSTING BC TUMBLR IS A DICK AND DIDN’T ADD THE CUT AND MADE A NEVER-ENDING LONG ASS POST! SCREW YOU, TUMBLR!)

Ship: Obi-Wan/Ventress

Warnings: Could be read as dubcon if you squint, read at your own discretion, don’t like don’t read blah blah blah

Tags: force-choking, choking, rough sex, hate sex, oral sex, dominant Ventress, submissive Obi-Wan, kissing, blood, biting, scratching, piercings, virgin!Obi-Wan, as in “never boned anyone but yea he jerks off on occasion”, humiliation, teasing, kind of a slowburn, scar kink, humiliation kink, awkward aftermath

-

Obi-Wan sighed out in relief.

Ventress escaping the force-binding handcuffs with which she had been secured in the aftermath of a strenuous battle between the Sith commander and the Jedi general and then attacking Obi-Wan mid-flight as he prepared to leave the force-forsaken outer rim planet where they had been fighting, thus forcing him into a poor landing that had cost the ship’s left wing and effectively trapping them there until rescue arrived was no reason to sigh out in relief, of course

The alternative seemed much worse than a broken wing on his ship, so “trapped in a ship with an angry, murderous sith” would have to do for now.

Obi-Wan quickly flicked a few levers to have the coolant systems wash over the engines, shutting off anything that wasn’t strictly vital for now so that engine and shit wouldn’t make matters worse by catching fire. Such a quick response to crashes had been acquired after the many years of traveling alongside Anakin having the apprentice as their pilot. Obi-Wan was almost glad Anakin wasn’t there to see this – he had to give the impression of not being foolish enough to leave someone like Ventress out of sight.

Obi-Wan stood up from his seat, rolling his still stiff neck over his shoulder.

“Now here’s a puzzling thought: was the whiplash of the abrupt landing the reason my neck is aching, or was it your attempt to choke me in the pilot seat?”

The impact had made Ventress lose balance, and she was still trying to get up to her feet as Obi-Wan calmly walked towards her, watching the nightsister look up at him with her clear eyes that shimmered with hatred.

The emergency red lights bathed the two solitary occupants of the now dented and scraped ship, which – Obi-Wan noticed with relief, momentarily looking out one of the narrow windows– had finally ceased to smoke for good.

The red that spread over Ventress’ chalk-pale skin made her dathomirian features more evident, the tattoos on her bald head almost disappearing from sight. She placed one knee on the floor and seemed ready to pounce like a cat, the Force energy in her displaying a sheer aggressiveness that was impossible to miss.

Obi-Wan stared down at her, his own presence in the force much calmer, but still attentive, wary. The red light also shone beautifully over his brown hair and beard, highlighting the few red hairs here and there. It gave an interesting reflection to his blue eyes, that would almost resemble a sith’s if there wasn’t such unbreakable kindness in them. Many men would’ve slain Ventress at this point of the war, for all the suffering she’d brought to the Republic by this point. Many Jedi, even. Who could say that killing her wouldn’t be a blessing to the universe?

But there was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Negotiator.  Kind in the same measure he was skilled. He wouldn’t employ violence unless absolutely necessary. And that was his mistake, Ventress thought with a smile that was all teeth, shifting her foot on the ground, force in her coiling up like a snake.

“Don’t-” Obi-Wan tried to warn, but in the very next second, Ventress was pouncing on him

Obi-Wan landed on the floor hard and kriff, his neck still hurt. There was little time to think, and he blocked a punch from Ventress with his forearm, shifting under her and quickly kneeing her in the gut.  Ventress winced but pinned him down still, curling her fingers with a vicious look in her eyes; Obi-wan felt the constricting pain in his neck, she was trying to choke him again, and the Jedi gave her a strong shove with the force as well, enough to push her off of him and half a meter across the floor, effectively breaking her concentration and allowing him to breathe properly. Ventress scrambled back to her feet but as she stalked forward, Obi-Wan reached for his lightsaber pointing the threatening hilt to the sith.

“Don’t.” he repeated himself, more sharply this time “I’ve had enough of dancing with you for today, Ventress.”

Ventress stopped at the exact distance the lightsaber’s blade would take should the jedi decide to ignite it.

“Well, I haven’t.” she replied in her smooth, silky voice; there was a hint of mock-disappointment to it “Don’t you know a gentleman should not leave a lady craving for more?”

It was always like this. Cody and his men… Kriff, Anakin himself had mentioned more than once that the ongoing banter between Obi-Wan and Ventress during their battles often made them look like lovers, or at the very least, ex-lovers.

“Well, I apologize” Obi-Wan said, reaching for the spare handcuffs on his belt and slowly walking closer to Ventress “But it appears this time I will have to leave you unsatisfied. Now why don’t you behave and turn your back to me so that I can adorn you with these gorgeous bracelets? Behave now – I’ve already sent a distress signal to the Republic, and soon the other will be here.”

Ventress’ eyes kept narrowing until her pupils were black slits lost in a sea of pale blue. Her pale hand moved to her robes, to the window that displayed her chest, tugging it down so it would be low enough to give a view of her cleavage, and the small device clipped to the inside of her robes.

“I called some help myself as well.” she offered him a lopsided grin “You really should do a more thorough search of your prisoners if you don’t want them to carry comms on them.”

Obi-Wan set his jaw. He hadn’t thought of that. For a moment, though, his thoughts strayed from the possible incoming separatist reinforcements and lingered on the sight of Ventress’ careless display of her figure. She unhooked her finger from her shirt with a wider grin.

“Strange feeling in the force, my dear Obi-Wan. If I didn’t know you well enough, I would say you feel… disturbed.”

Obi-Wan swallowed down, fixing his stance and drawing a deep breath that absolutely did not clear the sight of Ventress from his mind.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Ventress grin was sharp, and her eyes trailed from Obi-Wan’s boots to his tensed up face as she took a few slow, calculated steps towards him.

“Oh, I think you do.”

Ventress dashed forward and by the time Obi-Wan had ignited his lightsaber she had slammed his wrist against the wall. The blade cut through the ceiling above them, sending small bits of durasteel cascading over the two of them and drawing a burning trail over the material as Obi-Wan still tried to regain his grip on the weapon. Ventress slammed his arm against the wall again, free hand pressing the Jedi’s face against the wall as she did. On the third attempt, she managed to push Obi-Wan’s hand against the window’s plastisteel,  punching a crack on it with a well-driven force blow. The next slam of Obi-Wan’s hand against it sent the Jedi’s weapon flying out of the window and over the thick layer of snow outside, and Obi-Wan’s hand was cut in the sharp cracked plastisteel that still remained attached to the frame.

That made things easier for Ventress – she might have no idea where Kenobi had hidden her sabers, but now Kenobi himself was unarmed as well.

Obi-Wan looked at Ventress with mild annoyance, like she had spilled his cup of caff, not just tossed out his weapon out of a window while they were both stranded in the middle of nowhere both waiting for backup. He pushed her away sharply, hissing at the pain in his hand as he clutched it in order to assess the damage.

“Very clever. Now what? Do you want to keep fighting pointlessly until my men arrive and we can arrest you again?”

Ventress stretched her neck muscles, and if she had eyebrows, she would be raising one.

“Why not? I sure could continue to beat you until my master arrives and decides your fate. Don’t worry, we won’t leave without killing every clone and Jedi that tries to rescue you.”

And when Ventress elbowed Obi-Wan in the gut, he simply could not understand how he could let his guard down so easily. The question kept repeating itself in his brain when she managed to get the next punch in, and when she easily pushed back his attempt to contain her with the force, kicking his shin hard and kneeing him in the gut as he went down to then elbow him on his back to send him tumbling to the floor. What was happening to him? What?

“You seem distracted, Obi-Wan” Ventress purred as she climbed on top of him, knees on either side of his thighs as her hands moved over to his neck “Careful, or I might take the pleasure of killing you.”

Obi-Wan tried to reach for the force, but his brain felt foggy as Ventress strong fingers curled at the back of his head, curve of her thumbs exerting pressure over his windpipe and slowly but diligently cutting off his air supply. Obi-Wan’s hands flailed, grabbing at Ventress’ forearms weakly, and the Sith cocked her head to the side.

“Maybe I will take other pleasures instead.”

And she leaned down, pressing her lips against Obi-Wan’s. The jedi huffed, breathless, and Ventress pushed the air of her own lungs in, forcing Obi-Wan to breathe through her. Obi-Wan kicked his legs tentatively, the cycle of carbon dioxide going in and out of him added to the oxygen deprivation making him dizzy.

When Ventress slithered her tongue between Obi-Wan’s half-parted lips, Obi-Wan’s thought about biting her to have a chance at fighting while simultaneously thinking of how… pleasurable this felt.

Of course, he could do without the lack of air and the feeling that he might lose his consciousness by any minute, but the warmth of her lips, the way her slick tongue moves against his… this feels good.

And he wants more.

Oh, stars above, he was in trouble.

When Ventress finally eased up the pressure in his neck and pulled back some, Obi-Wan barely had time to  breathe properly, heaving gulps of air and Ventress was kissing him again, deep, wet and sloppy almost like she wanted to eat him whole. Her body felt warm over his, and she shifted now, kissing his cheek, moving over to his earlobe and nibbling at it. Obi-Wan breathed out, small noises in his throat leaving him with the air.

“Haah… Hah…” he tried his damnest to regain composure “Ventress… Stop…”

“Doesn’t look like you want me to stop.” Ventress said it carelessly; she didn’t seem to want to convince him it, almost like she was already certain of it herself

And that was when she roughly tugged on the neck of his robes, burying her face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck to then bite down on it hard enough to pry a loud gasp from Obi-Wan. She shook her head still biting down like a hungry predator trying to bite off a piece of their prey, and Obi-Wan whimpered between clenched teeth, knowing that it would most likely give him a long-lasting scar.

The pain was enough to finally make him snap out of whatever had gotten hold of him, and he pushed Ventress off him to the side, but the firm grip she still had in his robes made him roll along, and now the Jedi was on top of the Sith warrior, his forearm pinning her down over her neck.

“Stop. This.” he ordered sharply, and Ventress laughed at his face “I mean it! I don’t know what your little game is-”

His train of thought was very abruptly brought to a halt when Ventress right hand slipped under his robes and over his pants, giving a tight squeeze to the bulge there.

“Oh, I think you know exactly what my little game is, Obi-Wan… and you want to play as well.”

Obi-Wan breathed deep, jaw wound so tight his head hurt as he snapped his hips away from her, still pinning her down with his forearm.

This… This feeling wasn’t new or anything. Any jedi, as disciplined as they were, encountered the wish for carnal pleasure at some point in their lives. There was no wrong in it, or so had Qui-Gon taught him. Nothing wrong in satisfying these desires by oneself when in privacy – moons above knew how he demanded a nightly visit to the ‘fresher after spending an entire day guarding Duchess Satine and smelling her perfume, watching the dimples of her smile, noticing the lingering gaze she would offer him from across her offices.

Some Jedi, Obi-Wan knew, would seek to satisfy these desires with actual partners – he knew that there was no way in the galaxy that Quinlan never had brought company into his barracks, and the smile on Aayla’s face during some morning meetings clearly meant she had taken a lover in the previous night.

But Obi-Wan preferred to never give much attention to that… part of his mind, and what it did to his body. He believed that it wouldn’t be right to seek personal pleasure in times of war. It struck him as a selfish thing to do, and he wouldn’t indulge in it, no matter how after a though battle and a few shots of whiskey he kept picturing himself kissing some of the people he saw at the bar, maybe even taking them to a more private place and allowing himself more intimate touches.

His voice is lower now, losing its sharpness around the edges.

“S-Stop this…”

“Oh, poor Obi-Wan…”

Ventress’ eyes were full of a mocking pity, and she reached up to his crotch again, fingers more or less managing to grab at the outline of his shaft, her thumb moving to rub circles over the head of his cock. It’s not comfortable at all, the fabric of his underwear dry against the sensitive skin,  but Ventress’ fingers are skilled, and she shifted to press her palm against Obi-Wan’s hardening cock, moving up and down and pressing almost painfully at it, and Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to make of it. His usually calm and focused mind seems to be helplessly fogged by the arousal that grows with every touch from Ventress.

Obi-Wan shifted some, pulling the arm he had over Ventress’ neck in order to be able to support himself on his hand as he weakly grabbed Ventress’ wrist with his free hand in order to pull it away. For some reason, he didn’t make more than a weak attempt, and when she moved he hand to his crotch again, he didn’t stop her.

“Makes your blood boil, doesn’t it?” Ventress asked with a purr, raising her upper body on her elbows and pressing a wet kiss to the side of his neck, sharp tip of her nose dragging against his skin as she nipped at a tendon there, her hands moving up to the outer belt of Obi-Wan’s robes, undoing the clasps with ease “The bloodlust of a battle, all this anger, the heat in your body…”

“No, I don’t… A jedi doesn’t feel… anger…” he frowned, swallowing down hard “And I- I don’t feel any…any heat at all, I don’t… ah-!”

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the moan that was pushed out of his throat, even as he could feel Ventress smiling against it. It didn’t take much effort for her to flip the two of them over, straddling Obi-Wan and grinding down against him, a wide and victorious grin on her face as she roughly tore Obi-Wan’s robes open, dragging them down his shoulders up to his elbows and baring the Jedi from his waist up. Ventress licked her dark crimson lips as her gaze fell to the broad chest and the sheen of sweat that had beaded there from the constant struggle.

She placed her splayed hands over his chest, and her touch was almost burning hot, or so did Obi-Wan felt it. Maybe he was the one burning up, heat pooling in his lower stomach making his cheeks burn with shame. He wanted Ventress to unhand him. But he didn’t. He hated what she was doing to him. But he craved it.

Kriff, it wasn’t like he personally liked her, or even felt attracted to her per se. Stars above knew that the two of them had been fighting each other ever since Obi-Wan had been recently knighted. For all he cared, he could just turn her to the Republic and never had to think of her or the violence and death she would so often leave in her wake. But now… Right now, at this precise instant…

Force, he wanted to fuck her.

Obi-Wan fought the thought of it, all the while Ventress kept undressing him, leaning down to suck and bite at every inch of skin exposed as if she meant to make sure he would remember this even as the sudden pang of lust faded away and the wave of shame and self-loathing took him, most likely in the showers after he had finally landed back in Coruscant.

Obi-Wan shuddered, biting a moan he didn’t mean to let out as Ventress nibbled at one of his nipples, free hand blindly and clumsily undoing his belt, occasionally moving lower to stroke the bulge in his pants as she did.

“I can feel your arousal, Obi-Wan.” she muttered with a smile, shifting lower down, stroking his cock over his pants once again “Both in your body and in the force.”

Obi-Wan moved his mouth in mute words of denial that he knew were lies. He stared up at the wrecked ceiling of the ship and felt Ventress undo his pants, tugging them down roughly; Obi-Wan didn’t dare to look down as if the sight of his hardness would make the arousal he still denied irreversibly real.

The next thing he felt was one of Ventress’ hands on his hip, grip like a vice as she wrapped the fingers of her free hand around Obi-Wan’s cock – hells, her hands were calloused but for some reason he enjoyed the rough touch - and then suddenly there was warmth all around him, wrapping around the head of his cock, a heat that made Obi-Wan feel like he was melting, and something slick coiled against it…

Obi-Wan raised his head to look down, and only the sight of it destroyed what little part of him that still tried to deny the pleasure he was feeling – Ventress’ lips were wrapped around the head of his cock, her tongue pressed flat against his head and teasing the slit. The fact that he was mostly naked under her while the sith was entirely dressed and dominating him like one of her own personal little droids made him keen with arousal.

Ventress sucked him deeper into her mouth, and Obi-Wan threw his head back, upper body sinking back on the floor. Moons above, this felt good. Ventress’ mouth was obscenely warm and – Obi-Wan gasped loudly – she had started stroking him while bobbing her head up and down with Obi-Wan halfway into her mouth.

The thought of holding Ventress’ head down on him made Obi-Wan scowl at himself, and he balled his hands into tight fists to prevent himself from acting on it, the small moans breaking out of his mouth with increasing ease, turning into a mewl when Ventress pulled back with a loud pop from her slick lips. Her eyes were lidded, staring up at Obi-Wan through her dark lashes. Her dominant presence in the force both threatening and arousing.

“I would never have taken the Negotiator for a loud one.” She pumped her fist on Obi-Wan’s cock that had never felt so hard before, prying another moan from him “My, my, what would your mighty jedi order have to say about this…”

Obi-Wan scrunched his face in what he wished to believe wasn’t seething anger. Of course he wasn’t proud of this. Of course he didn’t want to be there, helpless under her sinful touch and being looked down to like a prey before its predator. Of course he didn’t want to carry this any further.

Except he did, and it was driving him insane.

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, baring them for Ventress with a snarl and reaching for her wrists. He took the sith by surprise, removing her support and forcing her to land on her side with a loud thud and a pained grunt. He climbed on top of Ventress and the two of them struggled for some time, during which Obi-Wan managed to kick off one of his boots and then the other one, the pants that had been tugged almost down to his knees tangling up some and making it harder for him to get a proper stance on the ground. Ventress managed to break one hand from his grasp, using it to yank him closer by the robes still caught on his elbows, pressing a messy kiss to his lips and biting down hard.

Obi-Wan screamed angrily, feeling the copper taste of blood and pulling away some to be met with Ventress blood-stained grin. The wide look in her eyes was truly something to behold, pupils blown wide as black devoured the pale blue.

She was right. It did make his blood boil.

Obi-Wan clumsily moved one of his hands to her hips, finding the edge of her robes and tearing them open, exposing her toned, pale legs up to her mid-thigs. He ground down on her, pinning her down under his weight as his hands moved to roam over her thighs and up towards her ass, tight grip on hot, surprisingly soft skin making Ventress let out a breathy laugh.

Ventress was feeling him up herself, hands grabbing at the strong arms to then be almost gently placed on his chest – she clawed at it, almost tearing skin, and Obi-Wan growled, leaning down to lick a broad stripe over her neck and suck at the skin there. Ventress shifted some in order to free her left leg from under Obi-Wan, now managing to wrap both of her legs around his waist, heels digging at the small of Obi-Wan’s back.

“Do you know what comes next or do I have to teach everything to you?” Ventress asked in an annoyed tone, hissing when Obi-Wan sucked another mark on the side of her neck “Are all Jedi knights, not enlightened in the ways of desire and pleasure?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, pushing himself up to his knees and looking down at Ventress. She looked stunning, chest rising and falling with her sharp breaths, thighs parted and body exposed; Obi-Wan could see her underwear, something discreet and white, darkened by a small damp patch – she was wet for him, and the thought made Obi-Wan twitch even as he shoved his pants past his knees and kicked them away for good. He leaned forward some, undoing Ventress belt to grab at the hem of Ventress’ shirt, bunching it up her stomach; he felt her bra under his thumb as he moved up and just pushed it along with her shirt, baring her breasts for him.

Obi-Wan honestly didn’t know what to expect; in fact the thought of undressing Ventress had never crossed his mind until this day. Still, he definitely did not expect to realize that Ventress was in fact a very beautiful woman. Her breasts were somewhat on the smaller side, and they were perky, pale pink shade on her hardened nipples that had small piercings on them. The alabaster skin of her upper body had some scattered scars, a few of them healing and fading, others apparently much older and permanent.

He recognized some of them. He had made them himself. Ventress seemed to be having similar thoughts, her finger dragging a line over Obi-Wan’s hip that he knew to be a small memento carved by the blade of her lightsaber.

Obi-Wan stared at her, at the blue eyes, crimson lips and the moonlight-pale skin, and Ventress smirked at him. The force in her still burned, feeding the fire within Obi-Wan’s own. He licked the nick on his lower lip, tasting blood still.

“Oh, look at you staring.” Ventress smirked, running her fingers over the scars on her stomach “Do they turn you on, Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan leaned down to suck hungrily at her breast, his free hand squeezing the other tight enough to ensure the shape of his fingers would be branded in red over the pale skin. He nipped at her nipple, relishing in the rich purr out of Ventress.

“Seems like you know something, at least.” she groaned

“Can you stop talking?” the sharp words felt odd in Obi-Wan’s tongue as he sucked hickeys on Ventress chest and breast; Ventress’ answer was a another breathy laugh

“Make me.”

Obi-Wan cursed himself for feeling hotter at every tossed word of banter and insult, his hand roaming over Ventress’ stomach, feeling the muscles coil under his touch as he moved lower and lower until he was slipping under her underwear and feeling the smooth skin there; Ventress let out a reluctant moan, clearly more sensitive in that area, her body jerking up to meet Obi-Wan’s their naked chests touching. Obi-Wan was well-built, his body covering Ventress’ slender form with ease, and the jedi enjoyed the sight of Ventress throwing her head back as he reached even lower, middle finger meeting the hot slit.

His fingers were calloused from the years of training with a lightsaber, but Ventress didn’t seem to mind, digging her nails in his bicep and shoulder as he pressed his finger against her clit, sharp sigh out of him at the realization of just how wet Ventress was. He creased his forehead, rolling his finger in circular movements, still pressing down some, and Ventress moaned out at once. Obi-Wan couldn’t keep the victorious smirk off his face.

“How long have you been wanting this?” he teased, shifting into up-and-down movements now, leaning to kiss the crook of Ventress neck

“Can you stop talking?” Ventress groaned

“Make me.” Obi-Wan quipped back, taking the opportunity to slide his hand lower, nudging his finger into Ventress hot, slick pussy

Ventress grabbed at the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, pulling him into a deep kiss, and this time Obi-Wan allowed himself to enjoy it, his tongue meeting Ventress and slithering against it in erratic movements that had never been learned or practiced. He wondered distantly how much of this he was most likely getting wrong. The way Ventress wiggled her hips, spreading her thighs wider for him begged to differ.

Obi-Wan pushed deeper into the heated folds, slowly pumping in and out, feeling the muscles inside clench and almost pull him in deeper. This felt good… he couldn’t stop thinking of how it would feel to have his cock inside her instead.

Like she was reading her mind – and at this point Obi-Wan couldn’t be certain that she didn’t; his barriers in the force seemed to have fallen down and he was currently a mess of heated, careless emotions – Ventress reached between them for his cock, giving it a couple of tight pumps.

“Get on with this already.” It could have sounded like a plea but she had the face of a woman in charge, demanding and she sneered at Obi-Wan’s blank expression “Stop pretending you don’t want it.”

Obi-Wan just kept there on his haunches and staring at her, at the bite marks and hickeys that littered Ventress’ pale skin now, at the hard nipples and the piercings that glistened under the red light. The unwavering heat of her body and her arousal in the force. Hells, he wanted her. Ventress smirked, wrapping her legs around Obi-Wan’s waist and locking her ankles behind his back. Her pussy pressed up against the base of Obi-Wan’s hard cock, prying a groan from him.

Ventress raised her body with ease using only her core strength, straddling Obi-Wan. Ventress rolled her hips, rubbing her slickness against Obi-Wan’s shaft and throwing her arms over Obi-Wan’s shoulders, leaning to whisper at his ears.

“Can you imagine if they knew? Your precious Jedi friends, the Council you’re so proud to be a part of?” she bit the meat of his shoulder, laving the aching skin with her tongue “All of those pompous Jedi masters, watching as you fuck a sith on a dirty ship’s floor…”

Obi-Wan felt weak at the words. It sounded like a nightmare, but at the same time it made his cock twitch, pressed up between him and Ventress.

“No…” he murmured, breathing hard over Ventress’ shoulder “No, don’t say that…”

“Your eager little apprentice” Ventress kept whispering, nipping at his jaw now “who’s so proud of you, watching you suck on my breasts and bite on my neck…”

Obi-Wan keened at that, the horrifying thought unexplainably arousing at this moment. He felt downright filthy. Why were her words having such an effect on him? Ventress shifted some, now supporting her knees on the floor while still grinding up against him.

“Just what kind…” she licked Obi-Wan’s lower lip, sucked at it “of training…” her hands moved to his arms, lowering down to his hips “did your masters give you?”

And that was what wrecked him for good, the thought of Qui-Gon knowing what kind of vile thing he had ended up tangling himself with, and the arousal it gave him made his cock almost ache with how hard it was.

That was when Ventress raised her body, reaching between the two of them and lining Obi-Wan’s cock up with her entrance; she lowered herself on him, letting out a low hissing noise as the blunt head pushed through the engorged folds, only stopping when he was fully sheathed inside her, Ventress firm ass seated on his lap.

Obi-Wan gasped through all of it, the feeling of being engulfed in tightness and heat making him moan loudly. Ventress gave him a knowing smirk, like she had won some kind of game, and Obi-Wan wordlessly grabbed at her hips, pressing her even lower down on him.

They didn’t speak much after that.

Ventress was riding Obi-Wan as if there was nothing in her mind other than the desire of bringing him down, soil him with lust and desire and ruin him for good. The thought of it spurred Obi-Wan, making him want to fight and resist while simultaneously wonder what would become of him should he fail.

Obi-Wan clawed at Ventress’ back, blue eyes looking up at her like a humble worshipper before a deity, flushed face beading with sweat, lower lip still sporting the fresh nick of her bite. Obi-Wan was trying and failing not to beg – he wasn’t entirely certain for what. The words just kept pouring out of him on occasion yes, please, moons above, oh please, I need it, give me, yes yes yes…

Ventress was mostly silent aside from her panting and moaning, but she would press Obi-Wan’s face to her chest, speaking words that could sound almost like praise that it, yes, just like that, deeper..

It didn’t look like lovemaking in any way; it looked more like a fight than anything. The two of them kept trying to bind one another’s wrists, leaving dark hickeys that looked like injuries and bites that nearly bled.

Obi-Wan bucked his hips to meet the thrust of Ventress’ hips and she gasped, tongue rolling over her lips obscenely. Obi-Wan had her hands pinned over the small of her back, pulling her down on him over and over, and Ventress clenched a fist, constricting Obi-Wan’s throat with the force. Obi-Wan bared his teeth, outline of his veins popping up on his forehead, eyes watering. He fucked into her harder, hips snapping up sharply as he struggled to breathe, scowl turning into a mad grin as Ventress moaned louder, urging him on with feverish nods.

Obi-Wan was already becoming dizzy when she let go off him, and the sharp inhale made him throb harder inside of her. Ventress wrestled out of his grip, licking her fingers to then slip her hand between the two of them, rubbing her clit as she bounced her hips faster.

“You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question. And Obi-Wan knew she was right. He bit down on her shoulder, hands squeezing and spreading her ass. He could feel her insides coil and tighten, force within her burning hotter and hotter like a flame being fanned.

“So are you.” He muttered, cursing as she leaned closer and caught his lower lip between her teeth

Ventress’ movements were becoming more sloppy and erratic as she pulled her hand back and focused on rolling her hips faster, clinging to Obi-Wan’s shoulders and spitting out swears and moans. She clawed on his back harder than ever, and Obi-Wan was pretty certain that some of the burning lines on her wake might be bleeding. Her insides tightened over and over around his shaft, the pressure and heat maddening. He couldn’t hold on much longer, not with the pleased sounds Ventress kept making and the wet, messy kiss she pressed to his lips now.

Obi-Wan thrusted his hips up a few more times and the building pleasure became unbearable. Ventress pulled her hips back, letting Obi-Wan slip out of her and reaching down to wrap her fingers around his hard cock, pumping her fist fast, squeezing towards his head on the way up; it felt wonderful, too wonderful, and Obi-Wan moaned out shamelessly, warm release spurting out of him and onto Ventress stomach, each spurt losing strength until he was spilling against the entrance of her pussy.

He twitched and throbbed still, cock feeling sensitive and almost aching as Ventress slowed her movements until she stopped, letting go of him as he softened.

Obi-Wan breathed hard still as he slumped on his back, watching mesmerized as Ventress caught some of the release with her fingers and sucked them off, eyes trained on him. His cock twitched softly at that, despite the fact that he most likely wouldn’t be up again any time soon.

Ventress leaned down to press a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of Obi-Wan’s lips, raising her body and trailing her gaze over his body. It was almost like she was admiring the mess she had made of him. She got up without a word, reaching for a nearby rag to clean herself to then tug her shirt back down and pull the underwear still caught on her heel back up. She then reached for her robes, wrapping them around her waist and tying her belt over it, all the while not paying any attention to the jedi that was still barely sitting up.

Obi-Wan felt exposed lying on the floor still, and was glad that Ventress had been thoughtful enough not to look at him as he scrambled for his clothes, pulling his underwear and pants with a grimace – he felt sticky and dirty down there, but did not want to think about it at the moment – he threw his robes over his back, shoving his arms in the sleeves, and he was about to tie his belt carelessly just to feel dressed again when he heard Ventress’ voice behind him.

“Where are my lightsabers?”

Obi-Wan hesitated to then tie his belt again, hands moving awkwardly like he had forgotten how to make the familiar knot.

“They’re…” Obi-Wan wetted his lips, an uneven scab where Ventress had bit him; he nodded at the wall on his left “They’re behind that panel.”

He heard the hissing noise of the panel being opened, and he pulled his own lightsaber to his hand with the force.

“Shall we keep our little dance, Ventress?” he asks, eyes cast on the floor and his back still turned to Ventress; he didn’t feel aggressiveness in her, not yet, so he waited

Ventress sighed behind him, a small and quiet laugh out of her nose as she placed her weapons in her belt and walked to the back of the ship.

“Not this time. I guess you’ll have to miss me for a little while again.”

Obi-Wan heard the sound of the door being opened, and the wind outside. He remained in the small corridor, under the red light for a time that could’ve been five minutes of fifteen. He should try and chase after her, he should-

“Master!” Anakin’s voice came through the comms “Master, we have a visual on your ship. Is Ventress secured?”

Obi-Wan swallowed down, his voice perfectly level as he walked to the panel and pressed the comm button.

“I’m afraid she escaped after she caused our crash.”

Anakin didn’t sound at all pleased.

“Damn it… Well, don’t worry, we can catch her next time. We’re gonna bring you home and everything will be back to normal.”

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder, to the narrow red-lit corridor where he had been moaning and begging and doing unspeakable things just a while ago.

“Yes… everything will be back to normal.”

[wabbitseezonarchive]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. REPOST. DON’T REBLOG.

– BASICS.

• NAME: Willow • PRONOUNS: she/her •  SEXUALITY: I actually have no idea lmao •  TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single

– THREE FACTS.

I broke my arm a day before my 12th birthday because a teacher told me that I shouldn’t be sliding down a part of a hill that was covered in powdery snow, so she took me to this giant ice-slide thing instead. I slid down it, flew up into the air, landed straight on my arm and snap. But no one believed my arm was broken bc I didn’t cry, I just kept saying ‘ow ow ow’ apparently, lol. Even though I have no recollection of that. It wasn’t until my arm started swelling up that they let me go to the office and phone my parents lol. I got moneeeyy for hurting myself on school property.

I have the attention span of a gnat, I swear to God. Like I am so easily distracted, it’s not even funny. I’ve timed myself before, and I can barely keep my focus on something for 5 minutes, and that is NOT an exaggeration. Like, I set timers to keep myself on track of things, and a lot of the time, I get distracted before the 5 min timer is up. It’s nuts, and annoying.

I love just wandering around and exploring so much. Like honestly, if I could just wander around and explore random locations with people, and just hang out, that would be like such a perfect day to me. I would do that in a heartbeat! So if I ever get to meet any of you ( hopefully one day !! ) that could be one of the many things I would be up for lol.

– EXPERIENCE.

•   HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?) About 6 years now, holy shit. •   PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: I’ve used Skype, Discord, ksjdneopetslfkjd, gaiaonline, and Tumblr! I really love the way Discord lets you just start off something quick, and have a server and everything! I just really like the ease you can start it with. And Tumblr--- even though it’s a shitty website that was coed by 12 year olds, I wouldn’t trade it for anything because of all of you guys. And it also lets me be creative, with icons and reblogs and musings and music, and even the formatting of my replies! So I like that about it too ------ Oh shit. I just remembered I used the ff.net message boards too, holy fuck. We don’t speak of those days. •   BEST EXPERIENCE: My best experience definitely has to be all of the friends that I’ve made here. I mean, like, I’ve been part of other RP communities before, but none that have felt like an actual family, or a group of friends that I’m excited to meet with every day and share ideas with, and come together to create something exciting and entertaining with. Like, you’re all so incredibly passionate and creative and talented, I’m in awe!

I’m so lucky to be able to see all of you do your thing and create and character build and world build with everything! --- And not only that, BUT I GET TO JOIN IN WITH YOU!?! I get to plot and share my own ideas with you, and we get to work together to create this awesome story (that actually gets super in-depth and is a GREAT way for me to express myself)! I love collaborating and adding my ideas and creating something with you all! You’ve honestly changed the way that I look at these characters, and have given them so much more depth that I can think about by pouring your own love into them. And I think that RPing has made me realize the type of job that I want when I’m out of school --- I wanna work creatively with people!

RP has helped me in so many ways! Like in school, I was able to pump out a 1000 word essay like it was nothing lol. And I’ve noticed that I’m more easily able to communicate my thoughts now, that I’ve been writing. And it’s an amazing way for me to vent. Like you guys don’t even have to listen to my problems, and I can just vent it out on here through this jerk-ass duck, and it makes me feel 1000 times better! Just talking to you all does! ♥ You are honestly all like family to me, and I value each and every one of your friendship! I’M SO GLAD I MET YOU ALL! 

Also, this is a good opportunity to ask I guess, but if anyone wants to add me on Steam, just let me know 👀 I’d love to game with some of you sometime.

– MUSE PREFERENCES.

•   FEMALE OR MALE: I don’t have a preference, really. If I like a character, then I’ll like them regardless. I have a bunch of female muses on my multi (which you can totally follow but it’s not very active rn), and a ton of male ones too! •   FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: ALL OF IT. HOOOOLY SHIT. OKAY.  I am a dark, horror-loving litt shit okay? I looooove me some dark threads. Like violent, scary, tense, adrenaline-fuelled stuff. Give me all the angst and the darkness, I love it.         BUUUT I ALSO LOVE SUPER CUTE FLUFF ♥  platonic friend threads give me life okay... they are so precious. Like friends just hanging out, doing mundane things. Watching movies. Going camping. Swimming. Whatever. Just enjoying each other’s company where nothing ‘exciting’ happens and it’s just them loving each other. I love love love it. I love character development so much. it’s like my fav thing to make a character make a mistake (Daff is a prime example of this lmao) and then learn from it, and try to fix it. So anything involving character development, I am so game. Smut??? not so much, bc i’m shy of writing it. I’ll write like shippy stuff like kissing and hugging and all that, but like i cannot write sex or anything --- like i’m sure I could, but i’d be hella uncomfortable with it lol. i’m more fluffy that smutty. •   PLOTS OR MEMES:  BOTH! I love winging it, and I love plotting things out with people. I love the surprise that comes with winging things, and it’s especially gratifying when an awesome, unexpected plot comes out of a meme --- and it’s also awesome to elaborate and built a plot together with someone! So I’m good with both! •   LONG OR SHORT REPLIES:  Both again, haha. I love elaborating and expanding on the scene, and body language, and what’s going on in a character’s head --- but sometimes my brain is like fried, and my attention-span is non-existent, and I just wanna get some dialogue going between characters, so short threads are awesome for that! I fucking love banter, man. •   BEST TIME TO WRITE: Lol, to quote Red “FUCKING NIGHT, APPARENTLY”. I am a night owl, to the extreme. Like I think I’ve officially become nocturnal this summer --- oh well, it’s fucking awesome. Totally worth it. •   ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Omfg lmao, like more than I let people know. I want them to think that I’m nice, but man, like in my head, I am such a little shit. The only difference between me and Daffy is that I don’t say the things out loud. Sometimes lol. If I don’t like something that someone’s doing, then I’ll speak up about it ( most of the time, I’m way more shy than Daffy, he’d just blurt it out ). But I can be so petty and jealous, and I’m vain as fuck, but again I don’t go blurting that out at every turn. And I don’t put people down to make myself feel better, I just do what I do, and if I don’t like someone, I won’t give them the time of day. I do try to be as genuine as I can with my spoken thoughts and stuff. Like I don’t like BSing people, or playing games or whatever, so I’ll say what’s on my mind, but try to me polite about it. Sooo, I’m like him, but nicer I guess lol.

TAGGED BY: @krupnick & @killingmoonlight !! THANK YOUUU !! TAGGING: anyone who wants to do this

[mafayu]

i need help and i probably sound pathetic

so basically, i guess i need to explain everything, and if youre not willing to read all of it then that’s fine, i just, idk, need to spill this all out and hope that someone responds and help because i just really love him.

so back to the beginning. in my point of view. i met this guy online on a groupchat i was added in. we started privately dming each other everyday all the time then texting and calling. then about a week later we started dating. everything went so quick but i was fine with it. and then he tells me him and his ex are really good friends. okay, i don’t mind. so then the next month, he came to my state to visit me. it was amazing and i loved every second of it. well, not every second because, he was texting, let’s call his ex dan for privacy purposes, so all night the first night he was with me, he was texting and calling dan bc he was feeling suicidal and what he said was that dan was feeling suicidal and us seeing each other irl isnt helping. i got kinda sad so i skated alone for a couple minutes (we were in an ice rink at an open skate) and i was so deep in thought and sadness that when i was spinning, a guy came in and crashed in to me, i sprained my ankle from that, he didn’t notice. (lets call my boyfriend fred for privacy stuff) fred was busy texting dan to see if he was okay, and i get it, he’s worried, but idk, i just feel like that wasn’t the time. 

that night dan tried killing himself by overdosing. he didn’t succeed. it went like this for the whole time we had together. i was kinda sad but i let it slide. then came the day when he had to leave. that’s when everything started to go nowhere but downhill. when fred left, i had a big field trip to new york. the trip was going great until towards the end of the field trip when i see a text from him.

“i think we need to break up”

i asked why and he said how dan was being suicidal and that us dating wasn’t helping him. i misunderstood and thought that dan would kill himself if we didn’t break up but he never cleared it up for me until a few weeks ago. i told my close friends what happened and they started dming dan, which made fred angry at me and cause me a bigger panic attack on the bus home. hours later he calmed dan down. and we laid low for a while. until last month,, something happened to fred and he went to dan instead of me for help. he barely texted or called me. i felt hurt. until i my friends saw on dan’s story about fred. my friend started dming dan again, and then fred started to get mad at me. again. i had another panic attack. that night i broke up with him. it was like that for a month until may 6th we started dating again. i think that was a mistake. because dan started drama again saying how he didn’t like how we were matching pictures on instagram. then a few weeks before i found out that we started dating (the first time) was about a weeks after him and his ex broke up. and all this time he still loved dan. that killed me. and, and i just, he makes me cry so many times and just, idk. and then after that day he has barely talked to me and only has a full conversation when it’s about dan’s problematic bullshit. he post’s on his spam more than he text’s me and he rarely talks about me when i talk about him all the time. i think i should breakup with him but i know i will be misreble because i love him with all my heart but i feel he doesn’t feel the same. and i feel as if im a second option when dan isnt online  and then he’s like “oh dan won’t answer me ig it’s time to talk to boring ol’ alec”

oh! i forgot. he broke our promise of stopping drugs and throwing away the ones he had. he smoked and did all these drugs with needles and weed and shit and i was worried yk? but apparently he cared about drugs more. and it hurts knowing that. 

i love him so much but at the same time i think this relationship won’t go anywhere, and there is so much more to tell but this post is long enough. im gonna add tags to see if someone can help, because i need an opinion from someone new. whoever read this whole thing, thank you so much, and dm me or repost with a comment if you wanna help, thank you.

-alec