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rosewaterandivy · 8 months

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Through Me Prequel - i. the hanged man

Summary: Steve may be slow on the draw, but hand to god, he's sure there's something ... off about you. Or, the three times Steve was a witness and the one time he wishes he wasn't.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, eventual Steddie x fem!reader in the series

WC: 5.2K

Warnings/Themes: cursing, criticism of religion (catholicism/xtiantiy mostly), religious themes, canon-typical violence, death, idolatry via smut, blasphemy, heretical notions, angst, occasional fluff (as a treat), Biblical & western literary canon and media references/allusions

A/N: This is the first of three prequels centering on the three main characters. If you're up on your tarot know-how, you can glean some info from the banner, etc. 👀 Special shout out to my beloved Jo (@jo-harrington) for looking this over way back when! If you haven't checked out As Above, So Below, wtf are you even doing with your life!?

Please do not interact if you aren't 18+.

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated; reposting, however, is not. This (*) is a singal to check the footnote at the end!

Enjoy! 💜

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"I don't care how many angels can fit on the head of a pin. It's enough to know that for some people they exist, and that they dance."

— Mary Oliver, "Angels"

Wednesday, November 9, 1983

You first meet Steve Harrington on a cold day in early November. A feast day, memorializing one basilica or another according to your latest missive— it was hard to keep track, much less whether it was one to be observed.

A shrill ring from the phone in the motel room, this side of too loud and unfortunately, it’s enough to rouse you.

“What?”

“We have some concerns regarding a small Midwestern town, Hawkins, Indiana.”

Blearily you sit up, “Yeah?”

“Just a drive-by should suffice.”

A sigh, “Got anything else for me?”

The voice paused, as if annoyed by your tone. “We’ll be in touch, as always.”

The sound of the dial tone did nothing to elevate your mood. While presently not on a mission, you bided your time by locating relics and artifacts for future use. Yesterday’s attempt turned out to be more burden than boon— not only was the pawnshop owner a shyster but a gun-for-hire. So, no relic to be had and you had to disarm the guy, what a waste.

Luckily, Hawkins was only four hours drive from Lebanon and sounded like a pretty easy day.

But no one bothered to tell you that a boy and teenage girl were missing.

Driving down main street, the town seemed fairly normal. But the gooseflesh running up your arms and legs told a different story. As did the telltale scent of bleach in the air, signaling the presence of some high-voltage electrical discharge— ozone.

Flipping on your police scanner, you were able to glean the address of a witness and potential suspect. Consulting the map on the passenger seat, you turn off the main drag and head toward the outskirts of town.

In the driveway, there are two vehicles, one black sedan and one maroon BMW. Parking in front of the house, you grab a pen and a notebook along with a badge. After checking your hair briefly in the side-view mirror, you pull on a trench coat and knot it at the waist.

Walking up the pavement, you note the police tape against the double-doors and tire treads from other vehicles. Based on the number, you’d have to guess a party of some kind was thrown the night before.

Three quick raps on the door.

“Police, open up!”

A harried, but well-kept woman opens the door. “Yes, can I help you?” She asks politely, with a slight tremor in her voice.

“Are you Mrs. Harrington?” She nods. “Very well ma’am. I’m Detective Constantine with Hawkins P.D. May I come inside?” You display your badge for her viewing.

Another voice sounds out from the house, perturbed. “Tell her to come back with a warrant.”

The woman’s eyes blow wide, hesitant to refuse her husband. Her mouth opens to explain.

You sigh, pocketing the badge and raise your voice. “Sir, considering that a girl went missing here on your property last night, I am well within my rights to search your home without a warrant.” You smile, trying your best to remain civil. “But I am more than happy to radio the Chief from my car to relay your sentiments.”

The sound of shuffling papers and a creak from an old office chair. The door opens wider, revealing a man, Mr. Harrington, bags under his eyes and tie loose around his neck.

“I assure you, that won’t be necessary,” He says with a tight-lipped smile and opens the door wider.

With a nod, you enter, notebook out and pen ready. Assessing the home, you take a few cursory notes. Walking from the foyer to the living room, through the dining room and out onto the patio you stop— a young man in a pool chair grabbing your attention.

He looks dazed, staring at the covered pool. Legs pulled to his chest and chin resting on the tops of his knees. Dressed in a teal sweatshirt, sweatpants and socks you wonder how he isn’t shivering from the cold.

In an attempt to gently alert him of your presence, you softly clear your throat. His head jerks upward quickly, panicked eyes locked on you. “It’s okay,” you say, sitting on a chair to his left. “I’m just here to ask you some questions.”

He nods slowly, eyes never leaving you. A dull buzzing rattling in his chest.

Briefly consulting your notes, you lick your lips. “It’s Steve, right?”

“Y-yeah, Steve Harrington.”

“Great!” You smile and nod. “I’m Detective Constantine. Can you tell me about the party last night?”

He nods gaze fixed on you, on the hazy glow that seems to encircle your head; he blinks and scrubs a hand down his face; the image gone. “It was just a small thing, me, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, and Nancy Wheeler.”

“And the missing girl?”

“Right, Barb Holland. Nance invited her.”

“Nancy Wheeler, she’s your girlfriend?”

Another nod.

“Did you notice anything odd about Barb or anyone else last night?”

“No, not really. She didn’t, uh, seem to want to be here.” He frowns, brows furrowing, a slight tremor runs through him, from the cold or the shock, who’s to say?

“I think she cut her hand opening a beer, maybe?”

Jotting down a few more notes, you nod. “But didn’t make a call or say anything about making plans to leave?”

“No.”

“Did you hear anything?”

“Nance and I went inside, Barb stayed out by the pool. Didn’t hear anything from upstairs.”

Glancing up from your notes, you pause. Steve’s warmed up to you during the brief conversation, legs crossed in front of him instead of drawn to his chest. He looks tired, looks scared.

“Your room, I presume.”

He blushes at that, nods. Takes a tense breath in, inhaling the tangy scent and taste of newly forged metal - sharp and pure at the back of his throat.

“Can you point to where you last saw Barb?”

He does so, drawing your eyes to the far lip of the pool where the Harrington lot backs into the woods. There’s a tinge of ozone in the air, albeit fading, and a tang of copper. That’s to be expected from a cut on the hand, but the electrical discharge—

“There wasn’t a storm last night? Lightning or anything like that?”

Steve shakes his head, opens his mouth to say something when the sliding door opens.

“He wants a lawyer!” Mr. Harrington shouts, “Steve, I told you to request a lawyer before speaking with the cops.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns back toward the house, “It’s fine, dad.”

Before Mr. Harrington can get his panties in a twist, you decide to take your leave. Standing, you pocket your notebook with one hand and place the pen behind your ear with the other. Extending a hand toward Steve, you smile.

“Thanks for your cooperation Steve.”

His hand clasps yours—warm and oddly familiar. “You’re welcome, I’m happy to help.”

Cocking your head, your eyes narrow to where your hand meets his. The feeling subsides, quelling any suspicions you may have had.

“Mr. Harrington.” You drop Steve’s hand and nod to his father, “The precinct will be in touch should there be any further questions. Your patience and cooperation are appreciated.”

And with a turn of your heel, you walk away.

A few hours later, there’s another knock at the door.

Steve answers it, waking from a nap on the couch. Eyes slowly opening, mouth like dried cotton.

The advil he’d swallowed earlier clearly did nothing to alleviate his headache, and the nap proved less than helpful.

At least the buzzing had died down. The newfound shortness of breath, however, had lingered.

He pulls the door open with a huff to reveal none other than Chief Hopper and his deputy.

“Afternoon, Steve,” he greets, eyes scanning the entryway. “Your parents home?”

Steve shakes his head, rubs the sleep from his eyes. “A detective already stopped by, earlier today.”

Hopper’s lips pull tight. “Huh.” He nods to the deputy and they leave to assess the scene, “Well, s’it alright if was take a look around here?”

He sighs, growing weary. “Yeah, sure.”

“Get some rest kid,” the Chief says and turns on his heel to go.

Steve shuts the door and drags himself upstairs. Falls face-first into bed with hopes to sleep off his headache and exhaustion.

Doesn’t hear the phone ring or Nancy leave a message.

In fact, he sleeps for three days. Specters of light dancing behind the darkness of his eyelids, and wakes with dried blood in his ears.

Sunday, January 1, 1984

He recognizes the buzzing first, the reverberation lodged somewhere behind his ribs. Knows the headache is likely to follow and shoves his sunglasses on, as if that could possibly help.

Steve’s idling in the parking lot of St. Mary’s waiting for Nancy while she attends Mass. Something about a feast for Mary or the circumcision of the Christ-child, he stopped listening and looped the curls of the telephone cord around his finger.

Parents already gone after the Christmas holiday, never staying longer than necessary.

He’d hemmed and hawed at all the right parts, while scanning through the paper for showtimes. Circled Scarface— as if she’d see that, Silkwood— a maybe, if he’s being honest, and finally Terms of Endearment— god help him.

And now, it was 30 minutes to showtime, and she was running late.

In the distance, he sees a bright flash of light. Hears the rattle and hum that follows.

Soon after, a black impala pulls into the parking lot. Correction, a smoking impala peels into the lot, sliding into a nearby parking spot expertly.

Well, that's new.

He watches as you exit the vehicle, slowly, casually, not with haste. Brushing the plumes of gray smoke aside flippantly, as if it wasn't cause for concern. A pair of sunglasses affixed to your face, frames and lenses dark resting on your nose and cheekbones.

A tiny lift of your crimson mouth is all it takes to send the blood rushing to his head. You nod in greeting to the congregants as they exit the church, as they shake hands with the priest and visit in the narthex.

You share a look with the priest, meaningful and urgent.

A tingling sensation as Nancy opens the door and slides into the passenger seat.

“Sorry about that.” She leans over to kiss him on the cheek, but Steve can’t stop staring at you.

Thank god for sunglasses.

“You okay?” Her voice is tinged with concern.

“Yeah, fine.” He says absently, shifting the car into gear, “Thought I was getting a headache but—”

“Another one?”

Steve sucks his teeth, he really doesn’t want to have this conversation again. “It’s not a big deal Nance.”

The tension in his neck and shoulders alleviated, a dull roar in his ears.

Pulling out of the parking lot, they pass where you’ve parked. His sunglasses slip minutely, just enough for him to glance at you over the bridge of them.

Catching his eye, you send a redolent wink in response.

“Do you know her?”

He clears his throat, letting the pedestrians pass by. “Uh, maybe?”

Nancy turns quickly, hazarding a glance, licks her lips while Steve clenches his jaw.

“Wow,” She breathes. “She’s—”

Steve speeds out of the parking lot like a bat outta hell. And Nancy never got to complete that thought.

Saturday, November 3, 1984

He doesn’t see you again that year, but Nancy does.

Saturday, June 29, 1985

The heat on this bus is oppressive. Offensive, even.

Even more so combined with the sweat 70-odd middle schoolers. The green ringer t-shirt with the unfortunate goldenrod yellow collar wasn’t helping things either. But, if you’d known all the particulars, you wouldn’t have taken the job.

Bagging hellspawn in the wilds of Wisconsin wasn’t worth dealing with a bunch of tweens who were hormonal and struggling to develop something called empathy.

They were mean in a scarily accurate and precise way.

“Okay twerps!” You raise a hand in the air, and count it off, “1, 2, 3, eyes on me!”

You lean against the back of the seat, facing the kids as their conversations drop to a murmur. Clipboard in hand, you flip through the brightly colored papers before addressing them once more.

“We’ll be coming to our final destination of Hawkins, in a few moments.” You pause to wipe your brow, “Couple of things to keep in mind: take only your stuff and no one else’s. Locate your adult person, parent or guardian, and then…”

You wait as the bus hisses to halt in front of the high school.

“Hey, sit back down Henderson, I’m not done yet.”

He grouses, crosses his arms and reluctantly sits.

“Right, so you find your adult and then check-out with me. Get it?”

“Got it!” They yell back and then it’s off to the races.

You brace yourself against the onslaught of tweens rushing toward the exit, clipboard clutched to your chest.

After the deluge, you scramble off the sticky plastic seat. “Thanks Larry!” You call to the bus driver and walk down the aisle, making sure no one left anything behind.

A radio crackles to life a few rows ahead of you.

“Dustin? Do you copy? Over.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab the hunk of plastic and thumb the call button. “Uh, roger that. Breaker one-nine. Henderson left his walkie on the bus. Over.”

Static and then.

“Shit.”

Shoving the behemoth in your back pocket, you step off of the bus, clipboard at the ready to check-out the campers.

Swamped with beleaguered kids and frazzled parents demanding medications and prescriptions, and mailing addresses and so forth, that you barley register the crackle and static from the walkie.

“Can you uh—” You wag a finger at an overly eager parent and pry the thing from your pocket. “What?”

“... Are you seriously mad right now?”

“Yes!” You sputter, rolling your eyes at the voice over the radio. “I’m kind of trying to do my job here.”

A laugh. “Funny, I thought you were a detective.”

You pale, a dull roar crashing through your ears. The voice is warm and melodic, slow like honey.

Handing off the clipboard to a junior counselor, you peer across the blacktop. And spy a figure leaning against the hood of a red car wearing black sunglasses. A smaller figure, jumping and waving at you in, of course, green and yellow.

“But then again.” The fuzz of static. “You were getting cozy with the padre, so maybe a change of pace. You a novitiate or just confessing?”

You refrain, with difficulty, from rolling your eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

Dustin whining when it clicks back on, “C’mon man.”

“Dinner.”

A scoff, “You wish.”

“Clearly.”

His response brings you pause, unusually forthright.

Lip pulled between your teeth, you leave him hanging for a minute and mentally sort through all the reasons why you shouldn’t.

Potential murderer - they never did find Barb Holland.

He apparently hangs out with Henderson—too many questions there to unpack there, but mainly: … why?

Already has a girlfriend, Nina… Nicole?

It would distract you from your work, but all work and no play makes you restless, and a little reckless. Speaking of which…

Pressing the call button down, you sigh. “Counter offer. I’ll allow you buy me a late lunch at the diner.”

You remember seeing a payphone somewhere around there and it’s public, so if it goes south you’ll have an easy out; you make plans to befriend the waitress, just in case.

The smugness radiates from his voice. “We have got to work on your negotiation skills.”

A crackle of static. You make a big show of turning the walkie’s dial off and shoving it back into your pocket before going back to work.

Following the directions he’d sent down with Dustin when he collected his precious walkie-talkie, you pull up to a place called Enzo’s.

Scanning the parking lot, your lips pull into a scowl when you see him.

Ah. There he is. You slam your door shut. That motherfucker.

Grinning like he’s the cat that caught the canary and goddamnit, being that attractive when smug shouldn’t be allowed.

“This isn’t what I agreed to.”

“Huh.” He cocks his head, “You don’t say.”

“What’re you playing at Harrington?”

He shrugs, hands shoved in the pockets of his too-tight jeans. You make the mistake of keeping his hands in your eyeline, looking down as you do so, and audibly gulp at the sight. Those jeans sure are tight, aren't they?

“My eyes are up here.”

You frown, and he laughs. Walks you into the restaurant— holds the door, and pulls out your chair, like a real gentleman.

A waiter quickly stops by, taking drink orders and rattling off the specials. You glace around the dining room, feeling out of place amongst the off-the-shoulder tops and high heels. Crossing your Converse-clad feet on top of one another, you stow them under the table and out of sight.

At least you weren’t wearing the ‘CAMP KNOW WHERE ‘85’ t-shirt and shorts any more.

Small miracles.

“Oh,” You say before the waiter, Kevin, goes to his next table, “Is there a payphone around here? I need to make a quick call.”

“You can use the bar phone,” He points to the bar by the hostess station. “Chris will be happy to help you.”

“Thanks!”

Steve eyes you as you stand up to leave, “Better be local distance or Enzo’ll be mad.”

“Bite me.”

He sips his drink. “Only if you ask nicely.”

With a roll of your eyes you leave him at the table perusing the menu.

Rapping your knuckles on the bar top, you smile as the bar tender approaches. “What can I get you?”

“Kevin said I could make a call from here?”

“Oh, sure.”

He leaves to get the phone and slides it in front of you before assisting another customer. You punch in the 618 area code followed by the all-too familiar number and listen as it trills.

Murray, of course, answers on the final ring.

Asshole.

“Behold!” He crows, “She brings me good tidings of great joy!”

“I hate you.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, yeah. What else is new?”

You turn back to look at Steve, he, annoyingly, waves. You reply in kind, waving your fingers before flipping him off.

“Not cursed? Bloodsick? Howling at the moon?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Still a messianic specter, sorry to report.”

“Sooooo.” You drawl, “This is your way of telling me you’ve got nothing.”

“Uh, huh.”

“And there’s no news.”

“Yep.”

You sigh, resting your forehead against the smooth lacquered wood of the bar. No jobs, no prospects, just great.

“Where are you staying? I’ll give you a ring when I get something interesting.”

You hum and stand back up. “Dunno Murray. Was kinda counting on a job to get me outta this town.”

Chris slides a drink down to you. Tequila, if you had to guess. Down the hatch it goes. You nod in thanks.

“Well, call me when you’re settled. Who knows, a slow summer might do you some good.”

“Ugh.”

You hang up the phone with a clatter and turn back to the table with a huff.

Under the evening sunlight scattered by a canopy of leaves and panes of glass, he rests his hand on your bare shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly.

Steve shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be as cavalier with his hospitality and his attention. Doesn’t know you from Adam and has already offered up the guest room.

He’s not normally this sloppy. But after things had gone sideways in ‘83 and then gone to shit in ‘84, Steve found himself slipping. Always looking over his shoulder, wondering when you’d blow back into town.

The detective turned nun turned camp counselor (Dustin swore you made the best s’mores) turned… well, whatever this was.

Not such a mystery anymore.

There is heat. There is the frame of his bed cracking. Carpet burns on his knees and back. Damp hairs on the nape of your neck. Bruises and bite marks and scratches all over him and strangely none on you, but not for lack of trying.

When he holds your torso against his, you grip him right back, and the pressure makes him feel like he could snap in half. It is wild and ferocious, tension sparking like a snarling animal ready to pounce.

He doesn’t call you darling or baby or sweetheart because those servile names feel so discourteous to what you actually are (and it’s only an inkling, but if he’s right—). He only pants and grunts and whispers fuck, fuck, fuck like a prayer.

“Don’t hold back on me now, Harrington.” You laugh, licking the sweat dripping down into your mouth. “You’ve always been honest. Go on, tell me what you want.”

He fists your hair from behind, pulls a growl from your throat, tangles his legs between yours as the two of you lie on your sides and goddamn it, he fucks you like he could die tonight. The sound of your ass slapping the smooth plane of his torso rings like a bell through the room. Your fist finds a handful of his hair and wrenches him away. You hold him down and crawl on top with a low chuckle.

“Tell me what you want.”

It’s futile to fight you. You are faster and stronger and beneath you, in the vastness of his own room, you could swallow him whole and he would let it happen.

“I want you.” Steve breathes, raspy and raw, grabbing your shoulders in an attempt to pull you down. You bat him away and lean back instead, propping up on your feet, knees apart, showing him the entirety of your body. Gorgeous. Marble smooth. Hard as granite, but flecked with gold and dappled light.

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat.

You look cold in the way a statue might, but in the center where you are hot and wet, he could devote himself to forever.

“I want you now.”

With a savage grin gracing the transcendent beauty of your face, you allow him this request. Steve Harrington, merely mortal, succumbs entirely to your touch. His body melts into yours, shudders with reverence for your power and gravity, and he feels like he could burst apart inside of you.

Your breath is all he can hear. Your sweat is all he can taste.

You are ethereal.

And he will worship you to the end of his days.

Thursday, October 31, 1985

The bells chime on the door of Family Video before he can say that they’re closed and yes, they’re also sold out of Ghostbusters and Beverly Hills Cop.

Robin had already clocked out, picked up by some friends from band for a Halloween party, so it was just Steve closing up.

Too distracted by counting the till to acknowledge the buzz in his chest, the tension melting from his body. A distinct lack of headaches for a few months now too.

“Steve.”

A soft drip on the floor, like a leaky faucet when he glances up.

And you’re stumbling on the carpet like it’s moving beneath your feet. You’re trying to give Steve a reassuring smile and only getting across a grimace.

From what he can tell, at least.

Because you are absolutely, positively covered, head to toe, in so much blood and viscera it’s no longer red but black, dripping off of you like sludge where it hadn’t already dried. The whites of your eyes and teeth are visible, and that is not an image he necessarily wanted to have of you.

Ever, really.

“I’m alright, Steve,” You attempt. Your teeth are chattering.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Steve replies, shutting the register drawer with a flick of his wrist and shoving the deposit in the safe.

“This, uh,” You glance down at your current state, frowning.

“Not yours?” He guesses, stepping out from behind the counter, paper towels in hand. “Well, I’d hate to see the other guy.”

You rasp a laugh that quickly devolves into a cough.

“Yeah,” You say once you’ve recovered, “Totally nailed him.”

He can see as you waggle your brows, underneath the layers of blood, dirt, and grime— dried blood pulling your skin taut as it moves. Steve sucks his teeth.

“I don’t even wanna know, do I?”

Delirium is definitely sinking in because you laugh, recalling the nail gun and the thunkthunkthunk of steel driving into flesh, muscle, and bone. The screams and wails, followed by the death-rattle. His hands are on his hips as if he disapproves, worry evident in his brow.

Being the liaison between humans and other beings (part-time, at least) means that the messenger should never have the urge to endanger a human or else it would totally compromise the position. And yet here you are, fantasizing about Harrington’s beautiful, well, everything.

Hazards of the job. Strictly speaking, the types of folk you deal with aren’t necessarily human. Technicalities, and all that.

“Okay champ,” He says, wiping at your face with a dampened towel. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then to bed.”

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your throat. “I’m not human, therefore, I do not require sleep.”

“Sure,” Steve nods along with your yammering, paper towels coming away equal parts black and bloody. “Whatever you say.”

Steve never pegged you for a sleep-talker, or whatever the hell this was.

“JAIDA, DE BAB DE ILS, DLUGA UMADEA PAMBT STEVEN, OD TABAORI AQLO BRANSG NOTHOA STEVEN, DORPHAL TOX , ASOBAM ILS DLUGA IEHUSOZ.”*

Foreign language aside, he has no idea what is going on.

Bright shafts of white light emanate from your eyes, he can barely see your pupils anymore, in their place a gold band circling your temples adorned with rapidly blinking eyes, and he has to squint and shield himself with an arm from the illumination.

He backs away, slowly, so as not to startle you. But clearly your attention is drawn elsewhere, what with all the eyes and the—

The fuck?

The… hovering. Because you’re not seated on the bed anymore, the mattress doesn't even dip with the suggestion of weight. And there is a considerable distance between your crossed legs and the sheets.

He feels nauseous and dizzy. An ever-present buzz along his skin and thrumming from the inside out. Hears the beating of wings, the shuffling of feet.

Steve clamps his hand over his ears, hating the damp squelch of it, just hears his blood rushing and heart beating instead. Wills his eyes closed, turning away, impossibly, from your glorious display.

Takes deep breaths and counts to 100. Again. And again. And again.

The touch of your hand on his arm is so light, that it doesn't even register.

Steve comes to gradually, only to find you not covered with a halo of eyes and clearly abiding by the laws of gravity.

Did he hallucinate all of that?

“Steve,” You whisper, hand rocking against his shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”

Was it just a dream?

He grumbles, half-waking and bats your hand away. “‘M’up.”

“Yeah,” You laugh. “Okay, you’re up.”

A shake of your head as you sit back against the bedframe.

Steve stretches, skin skimming against the worn sheets and feels perfectly sated. Doesn’t recall falling asleep or how he got into bed though.

Remembers seeing you at work, he was closing… Your bright eyes and teeth… And not much else. Maybe something about blood, if he concentrates.

“So.”

You’re seated a careful distance away from him on the bed. Legs fallen lazily onto themselves, hands open and resting against your knees, like one of those yogis he’s seen around town.

“You gave me quite the fright there.”

“Could say the same to you,” He counters, voice raspy with sleep. “What was—”

“Meditating.” You’re quick to answer him.

He arches a quizzical brow. “Meditating. Really?”

Bottom lip pulled and worried between your teeth. “It’s a form of introspection. Communing with your higher states of consciousness.”

“Riiiight. We’ll call it meditating. For the sake of argument.”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

He shrugs, rolls his neck and shoulders. “I never said that.”

You squint, staring at him. Your hand comes up to grasp his jaw and slowly turn his head. Face remaining impassive, you cluck your tongue and rise from the bed.

“Stay there.”

The commands thrums through him.

Steve watches as you leave the room, heading across the hall to the guest bath. Hears the water running from the faucet, the wringing of a damp rag. Soft footfalls herald your return, plopping back on the bed and dabbing the washcloth against his jaw and ear.

A tap against his chin. “Other side please.”

You do the same to his opposite ear, humming to yourself under your breath. Thunder sounds in the distant night, a storm rolling through.

Deeming it a job well done, you toss the cloth into the hamper. White terrycloth tinged rosy red. A cool hand turns Steve this way and that, your eyes darting across your handiwork.

“How’s your head?” You ask, voice soft.

“Fine.” Shakes his head, in proof, rattles his brain around. “No complainants.”

“Mmm.” You hum. “No migraines or auras?”

“Not for a while now.” He clucks his tongue, “But I didn’t tell you about those.”

Ah. Now he’s caught you out.

Your mouth hangs open, gaping like a fish.

“Hey,” His hand settles over yours, warm and familiar. “It’s fine. You’re just … perceptive.”

A laugh, the rustling of wings somewhere. “Is that so?”

Steve pulls you toward him, the air punched from his lungs as your shoulder collides with his chest. You apologize profusely, rearing back and away from him.

He tugs you back into his embrace, both arms settling around you and falling effortlessly at your hips. Feels a pleasant glow at your temples, sponges a kiss there. Catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, your image seemingly replaced with iridescent reflections of light. A crown of fire round your head.

And is alarmingly at peace with it all.

Friday, November 1, 1985

The next morning you’d already left by the time he woke up.

A glass of water, a crumpled scrap of paper, and business card were on the bedside table. He picked up the water, gulping it down readily and scrambled for his glasses.

He grabbed the papers, the larger one seemingly covered in glitter, dust? Something golden getting all over his hands and sheets. Squinting because he never did get to wiping off his lenses, Steve read the business card first. Simple and to the point, nothing he didn’t already know.

The scrap of paper however, was beyond him.

Well, shit.

He dials Robin, figures if anyone could translate, it’d be her. Then calls the number listed on the card as he waits for her arrival.

An annoyed voice answers. “Ugh, this better be good, Harrington. I’m a busy man.”

“Yeah, who is this?”

“That’s not important.”

“What do you mean? How is that—” He sits up, cradling the phone between his shoulder and jaw.

“How did you get this number?”

“Uh, Constantine. How else?”

Whomever he’s speaking with roughly pulls the phone from their ear and mutters a litany of curses. Surprisingly few in English.

He takes a breath, waits for the conversation to resume.

“Okay, say I believe you Steve. How do you know Constantine?”

Steve arches a brow, devotes all of a few seconds to thought before saying, “Well, we’re uh, involved, I guess, and then she showed up to Hawkins dripping in blood last night.”

The next thing he hears is the sound of something smashing to the ground, quickly followed by a “Shit-cock dumbass motherfucking—” before the line drops dead.

*Highest God, of your dominion, give strong towers unto Steven, and govern your guard amidst Steven to look upon him, whom Thou givest mercy.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #constantine!au #reader insert #fic: through me #steve harrington smut #Spotify

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lizzie-is-here · 1 year

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bucky barnes oneshot

the white cat part 2

bucky barnes x fem! reader

alpine turns out to be the best matchmaker (sorry nat ily)

a/n: a part two? slay very short and sweet 🫶 also short note this time hope you enjoy unless you wanna hear ab my weird dream: ok so like a week ago i like literally lived out three years and i met a guy first year in college while majoring in astronomy and we started dating and he was super sweet and got me flowers and one time it was snowing and we danced on the lawn, but anyway it was my junior year around christmas and i was in the library studying for finals and he came in with daisies and take out to help me but THEN I FUCKING WOKE UP WTF? still mad

the white cat pt. 1

The first date had gone perfectly. Bucky had shown up at the animal shelter right on time, and you had changed in the bathroom to a more date-appropriate outfit. A Japanese steakhouse, a bottle of champagne, and a walk home later, you’d both been eager to schedule another. And three more.

So now, you’re sitting in a back corner of a café (date number five, for those keeping track at home), trying to not stare too hard at the man in front of you.

“Coffee is so much better, holy shit,” he mumbles. You’d recommended a caramel frappuccino, though you’re now mildly convinced he may run off to date it.

“Yeah?” you laugh. “I bet a lot of things are better now.”

Bucky nods, watching the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you chuckle. He likes that you don’t avoid the topic of his past. Contrary to popular belief, not every moment of his early life was horrible.

Just most of it. Like, seventy years out of one hundred. 70%. Could be worse.

He pulls himself back into reality. “Temperature control? Best thing that’s ever been invented.”

“Oh, really? I’d say modern electronics-“ You gesture around, where students are typing away on laptops and groups of friends are showing each other pictures. “-but I could be biased.”

“Don’t shit talk the flip phone! It works well enough for me.”

“Oh, no. No shit talking here.”

When both of you finish your drinks, you walk Bucky back to his apartment, even though he definitely doesn’t need any extra protection. You enjoy the trek up the stairs you’d normally loathe, and reaching his door makes a weight sink in your chest. He opens it a crack.

Before you can even say goodbye, a white blur races out, ramming into your leg and making you stumble.

Right into Bucky.

“Shit, sorry!”

“She normally isn’t like this-“

The two of you speak at the same time before your eyes lock, breathing syncing as your thoughts both race and stop entirely.

His thoughts race. ‘Is five dates enough to kiss? Probably, right? But it was different then- this isn’t back then, dumbass! Okay, but what do I do? God, she’s pretty this close. Do I lean in? I should lean in, I’m taller than her. Curse you and bless you, Alpine, I’ll get you some Fancy Feast after this-‘

And you only have one thought.

‘Fuck it.’

Pulling him in, your last and only thought leaves the moment your lips touch. His hands hesitantly settle on your back and waist, relaxing when you sigh.

The troublemaker responsible nudges you again, albeit much gentler, purring up at you.

“Hey, Alpine,” you greet, scooping her up. She stretches out and turns limp in your arms. Shit-eating brat. You love her, though. “So, um…” You trail off, but the silence isn’t doesn’t linger for long.

Bucky opens the door fully, nodding inside.

“Would you wanna come in for a bit? Not that you have to, but-“ The way he grins and darts his tongue out across his lips is more convincing than you need. “-your call.”

White ball of fluff in your arms, you agree wholeheartedly.

“How about a movie?” you ask, stepping inside.

Bucky shrugs as you let Alpine down. “I’ve got a list of some Sam told me to watch.” The cat runs to the couch like she knows you’ll end up there.

“We can start there.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic

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djarins-cyare · 11 months

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Chapter 32 ‘The Feast’

Every couple eventually talks about their sexual histories, right? Anybody interested in hearing Din’s?

🍒 Din takes a calculated risk…

Wtf, why is it so blurry? 😩 Sorry. Please head over to AO3 where my layout skills are far better, and enjoy the latest chapter there.

A small amount of begging to wrap up…

This blog post won’t reach too many people because my network isn’t big enough, and I’m busy editing and proofing the story itself so don’t have time to do lots of reblogging and posting myself to train the algorithm to prioritise what I put up.

This is really sad for me, not because I’m desperate for likes or kudos, but because I’ve spent more than a year of my life researching/writing/editing/proofing this story, making chapter photos and coming up with (hopefully) interesting stuff to say at the end of chapters, coding all the HTML to make sure it displays perfectly for an easy read, then doing what I can on Twitter and Tumblr to let people know when each chapter goes up.

All I really want for this story is for people to see it and enjoy it… but I get a lot of messages that begin with “I can’t believe I’ve only just found this”. So I know it’s not reaching as many people as I’d like it to.

Whilst I’m supremely grateful for every single like I get, they don’t help make the post more visible to others. Reblogs, however, do. Each reblog boosts a post’s visibility massively, and I can actually see the difference in hits on AO3 whenever someone very kindly reblogs one of these posts.

So, if you’re willing, please consider reblogging this and any other posts for chapters of my story that you particularly enjoyed. And of course, please don’t just do it as a favour - only do it if you think it’s worthy of your recommendation. This little PSA isn’t meant to guilt, it’s meant to inspire.

Thanks for reading (this and my fic), and for all your continued support ❤️❤️❤️

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megistusdiary · 3 months

Note

and thusly, i have been unmasked,,,

im gonna leave yall to feast on that while i go make dinner. enjoy girlies <3

-🎭, no longer anon

happy birthday to me wtf i got a masterpiece fic, an art piece from the gods, and then said generous anons have unmasked themselves.

so much has happened today ong i feel so happy 😭😭

thank you both for sharing your wonderful talents with me and with everyone here on my blog!!! i literally adore you guys so much, you have no idea.

enjoy your dinner <3

#🎭─ 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈#formerly. but now you get the moots tag #yippee!!!#₊˚⊹♡─𝘮𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘯 #˗ˏˋ꒰ 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴 ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) ꒱

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crones-trash · 10 months

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Asteroid City, A Personal Review

Movies by Wes Anderson are an acquired taste. Most people don't like them but those of us who do really, really love them. His style is beyond quirky, way-out-there bizarre unrealistic plots, constrained performances, & brazenly artful scenery. Anderson doesn't even try to make commercially-viable movies. He makes ART! And he employs large casts of serious actors putting them in circumstances that turn straight actors into comedians & comedians into drama stars.

Under his direction, his ensembles are forced to conform to his insistence on them doing a parody of normal speech & behavior. They drone in emotionless monotones w deadpan demeanors, which puts the emphasis on the content of their speeches. His clever scripts are laugh-out-laugh funny when you listen to the words. But, if you don't, their performances can look utterly boring. And this leads your eyes to feasting on the background details. (I confess I've sat thru a couple of his movies only absorbing the set designs & camera angles but came out feeling refreshed & happy.)

Asteroid City is The Most Wes Anderson movie EVAH! He's got an All-Star cast including Tom Hanks, Scarlet Johansen, Brian Cranston, Adrien Brody, Edward Norton, Tilda Swinton, Willem Dafoe, and many, many more. Even the bit players have recognizable faces like Margo Robbie appears in only one scene that blows your mind. And Jason Schwartzman as the central character is amazing! He was allowed to project surprising micro-bursts of real emotion within the straight-jacket of Anderson's usual affectations.

The plot is impossibly convoluted: a 1950's B&W TV show about the writing of a play about a Technicolor movie w B&W Behind-the-Scenes inclusions of the play's actors behaving more naturalistically. This might actually be a first for Anderson & he uses it to press against the boundary of his usual creative methods. Leading up to the Grand Finale, Schwartzman steps outside of his primary Technicolor role to confront the writer of the play in B&W & demands to know what the story means!

In this moment, Anderson confronts his critics because one of the main complaints about his work is "WTF was that about!" I often recommend to people who have no previous experience w his movies to enjoy the snappy dialog & lush scenery; don't even try to make sense of it; simply let it roll over you & feel whatever you feel. Usually, after the fact, I examine what I felt & find some meaning for myself.

But, this time he has the entire cast arranged in tiered seating & they crash thru the 4th Wall by directly chanting at the viewer,

"YOU CAN'T WAKE UP IF YOU DON'T FALL ASLEEP!"

My eyes flooded w tears & I felt what Anderson intended me to feel—GRIEF! Yes, indeed, the Technicolor movie is centered on a story about a man processing the death of his wife, having to tell his children their mother is dead, & making peace w the father-in-law who never liked him. It's about letting go & moving on w the rest of your life.

I realize the chant is open to interpretation &, after the fact, I googled what others thought it meant. Most of them got the message about grief from it but have varied explanations for was the literal statement means.

My interpretation is: Movies are like dreams & the best way to watch them is to suspend your disbelief & enter a semi-conscious state to allow them to "happen" to you. Then you wake up when the movie is over & apply your critical thinking to what you experienced. If you obstinately remain self-conscious & busily critical, you simply won't get THE FULL EFFECT!

And, ya'know what? Grief is like that. And so are all traumatic events. If you don't give into the process of feeling your emotions, you'll never get over it. It will always be like a ghost haunting the back of your mind that spooks you until you confront it.

As someone who has experienced traumatic grief for going on 2½ years that evolved into a state of confusion since moving to Portland, I think this movie helped me "wake up".

Hey, look! I'm writing from my heart again!

#Asteroid City #A Personal Review #About Grief

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keef-a-corn · 1 year

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Dat’s right, People, it’s time for ‘Keef watches TFP and you just get the notes!’

This is for season 1, episode 19: Rock Bottom.

Genuinely started crying when I realised. No. You cannot be serious. I can’t do this again…

I write down the timestamps, but I watch Transformers Prime on Stan (an Australian streaming service) so they may be slightly off.

ALSO! I try my best to note points for every character, but tend to get a little caught up by Bee (although I think I do a pretty good job with the notes regardless) so do be warned.

I will say that compared to my last episode notes, I’m a bit more upbeat. I finished ep 18 then went straight onto this, so I have no explanation as to why I’m more calm.

~~~~Transition~~~~

00:08 - mm delicious quality. Look at those smexy rocks.

00:31 - After Operation: Breakdown, if I were to theorise that it was actually a Cybertronian body, no one could say otherwise.

00:46 - They need one of those backpacks with a leash attached.

00:51 - especially considering that the conversation had very heavy implications that the mine was a dead end. This show would be a lot shorter if they put Miko on a leash. Could’ve been longer if they gave bots the recovery arcs they deserve though-

00:57 - Bulkhead’s father skills. I love it… Okay been a bit deprived of Dadimus and Bee content, so there’s a part of me that’s wants to redraw this scene so it’s Optimus running after Bee.

01:01 - Kinda vibing with Jack in these past few episodes.

01:29 - *throws into the crowd of Megatron and Starscream fans* FEAST!

~intro~

02:23 - Please tell me someone has a hc that Megatron goes spelunking in his free time.

02:38 - Would it be wrong for me to say I’m kinda vibing with Megatron rn?

02:42 - Starscream has an outline for some reason. Probably lighting.

02:47 - indulge: To allow oneself to enjoy the pleasure of something.

So he d o e s like spelunking.

03:08 - it absolutely would not :D

03:31 - A lot of the time when a character uses a bunch of buzzwords, it’s just a bunch of gibberish. TFP writers really said ‘hold my beer’ because I’d be lying if I said that the explanation didn’t make sense.

04:17 - mmm beautiful camera angle. Really shows the power imbalance.

04:22 - *throws to the Megatron fans* FEAST!

04:24 - What’s going on? Why does Starscream look so cute??

04:43 - excuse me how the fu-

04:54 - … HC Megatron reads body language excruciatingly well. Use that for your fanfictions if you so desire.

04:57 - Why would be so that?! C’mon. Ya could’ve used that.

05:00 - I cannot b r e a t h e ! Can he even see Starscream at that point?!

05:08 - Mmmm walk cycle. Also heavily animated Megatron(?), he’s very expressive in this moment.

05:30 - I adore the contrast of Megatron being expressive, but also unapologetically confident, while Starscream’s stiff and moves like a pigeon that hasn’t quite worked out that it should be flying away.

05:35 - Megatron’s like a theatre kid. It’s so compelling. I feel like I should be bored, but there’s another part of me that cannot look away.

05:51 - He said the title! Wee Woo!

06:20 - how did Arcee not hear them? I get that Megatron wasn’t exactly loud, but they were making noises that was most likely amplified by the tunnels.

06:22 - Megatron’s looking up, not at them.

06:47 - Smart choice, Starscream.

06:51 - let us take a moment to question wtf Megatron thought was going to happen. He had every intention of killing Starscream, but once his attention was drawn away, did he really think Starscream was going to stay back? It’s not like Megatron would need any help anyway, it’s Arcee. As much as she’s a girl boss, she doesn’t really stand a chance against Megatron.

08:27 - that shot lasted too long. + Apart of me was kinda hoping that it would cut to Optimus being like ‘My Primey senses tell me Arcee and Bulkhead are in trouble.’ Then Ratchet there like ‘your what?.’

08:54 - Jack using an Autobot curse. Really getting into the lingo aren’t ya, Jackie boy?

09:05 - Is that a reference?

09:16 - cue Surface Pressure

09:26 - this is a Metaphor for his emotional maturity and how he’s able to carry himself without being emotionally charged nor emotionally constipated. It isn’t- but it totally could be.

09:45 - okay but like, what if he did let go? Slowly, of course.

10:16 - There’s something so enjoyable about a character reacting in a way that is so unbelievably in character for them.

10:39 - Damn. Using your head there, ain’t cha?

11:24 - okay but why has no one come looking for the bots yet?

12:36 - Maybe the rocks are a metaphor for emotions? Arcee let’s her emotions get the better of her, Jack’s learnt to roll with the punches, Miko need to work on it but finds herself getting tired and having to give in, Bulkhead ends up in over his head and needs to let out steam otherwise he will get hurt, Starscream will always be on the run, but will work on himself too and Megatron’s buried too deep.

12:44 - *cri* noooo Bulkhead

13:09 - Aside from that being Optimus’s line, good job, buddy ol’ Jack.

13:35 - I hope Miko’s learnt her lesson.

13:47 - aww sweet pea!

14:10 - world’s most beautiful visual. Megatron’s got some very strong lights in his eyes.

14:25 - Even Megatron knows when he should be defeated.

14:38 - I know he’s right but like… man how I wish he did kill Megatron, or at least try.

14:45 - Why not with Bee? You two have tea together after all (IYKYK)

14:56 - from the way he moves it’s safe to assume he wiggling. Is Megatron secretly a worm? Perhaps.

15:24 - Somewhere in some universe Bulkhead’s a parent.

15:47 - hit me baby one more time. + If Bulkhead’s arms locked would he be able to continue to hold it?

16:43 - this camera angle really puts into perspective how large Starscream is.

16:56 - Ayo 🤨

17:48 - but the way Starscream said Miko- damn

18:17 - Her tears look like they were made on ibisPaint X

18:40 - Power imbalance shown through the angle

19:23 - Bulkhead’s mouth guard is fraggin hollow? Excuse me??

19:43 - The nicknames *cri*

19:50 - Why is that such a ‘main character’s bully gets told off’ scene?

20:20 - depends what from.

———————

And that was Rock Bottom. Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Ain’t a favourite but that’s alright. It's a good episode, not my style, but certainly one that deserves love.

#transformers #tfp #tfp notes #transformers prime #tfp ep notes #tfp episode notes #tfp megatron #tfp miko #tfp arcee #tfp jack #tfp bulkhead #kwtfp #tfp starscream #keef watches tfp #tfp ep 19 #episode 19 #Rock Bottom #maccadam

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myrfing · 2 years

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6.2 MSQ spoiler thread [estinien voice] kumbhira ribeye baby [varshahn voice] did he drop it in dirt

YOUR...BABY HEAD? THE... NO BEARD SCALES?

howling screaming best himalayan salt lamp ever

this is so. LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

this party comp is nice...yshtola is my forever gamer and estiniens a funny guy. and big varshahn is um. big varshahn. also first time i think they've ever left the autofill as healer for the pc lol

ohhh i looove the twisted surrounds. and god making varshahn pull more in his newly minted freshman meatsuit sorry for the evil

watching his ass use shield lob 5 times in a row for an enemy right next to him. Yea you need to be a dragon

*taking pics of everything* I have to show cylva does she know this lady.

yshtola asking if voidsent appreciate flowers too...man they kind of screwed themselves over by making the void already in CT when their aesthetic sense was erm worse but they really are making the best of it. it looks cool even if halloweeny

common tongue between norvrandt and the 13th...is that the weenis woonis or was there a different babel event. ohh thinking about the golden dhyata now

oh man she's cool.

also people were mad about this line weren't they? i dont get it that's pretty par for the course for the bodyjacker guy

her voice is so nice lol

"are you his friend" "im gourd I dont know anything about that" most ic response laughed like hell. also people said these choices were mean they arent even half as mean as I want them to be sorry to the lovers

YSHTOLA NOT YOUR AETHER LMFAOOO LET GOURD GIVE HIS GIRL YOUA RE FUCKINGGGG PUTTING GAS ON THE PEDAL 24/7

oh so she's like vaulthry

her little hat tilt...moe

why doesnt...like...why dont we just kill the guy or. gourd absorbs the aether. i know suspended disbelief needed here just man

yshtola being the one to give zero her name...the way they. Well.

also she's still cool but she's also very lame. win

...sorry fray

statue of a guy who died doing passage of arms

im lookin for thos deepeyes...

man these little guys can have a little aether. it's fine gourd has a lot and he never fucking uses it except all at once I guess

zero's little sad house of nobodies. love it. yes the house and heart yshtola

SHE'S SUCH A BORN IN A WET CARDBOARD BOX ALL ALONE LMFAOOO HER HIDEOUT...NO NAME...ONLY KNOWS TRANSACTIONAL BONDS...so real. the oc of desolate 12 year olds everywhere

girl you got snot fountain in your mind palace

ok I know barbariccia is naked lady boss #43461 but hi. you're green as hell like pea soup

wtf she killed those little dudes. they were just hanging out

host says they cant seat us until everyones here wol sighs and takes out their azem crystal

snot hair lady a little fun

NO deepeyes in the void :(

aw ciriatto is relieved and says farfarello quieted down after we slonked her shit

SO FUNNY MAKING ESTINIEN CARRY HER? SO FUNNY ALSO PRETENDING THE WOL DOESNT HAVE MASSIVE AETHER RESERVES YET AGAIN

yesss lets feed zero zero feast zero eat

miss hydaelyn bringing me the cool kids wide and far

varshahn (politely) She is a pain in the ass. But that's ok

LFMAOAOAOAOOA YOU CAN BE LIKE I'm going to my island.

aww..zero feeling warmth and light for the first time in ever

nidhana is so reliable she is just everywhere I guess

DO NOTTTT INSULT NIDHANA ZERO >:[_____]

SHE SUCKED THAT APPLE DRYYYYY HELPPPP

also varshahn. Grow up

[jp writers] human connection and belonging is The Apple (Fruit)

...i bet shes going to die when taken outside of her pond and thats why shes okay with it after all that. Zero U Are So

varshahn's customer service voice with her AHAHAHA

fuck thee aethernet we are walking so you get to see PLANTS and SKIES and COLOR and ARCHITECTURE and PEOPLE

im so glad that the first place she sees as herself in the first is thavnair cus it's such a gorgeous and lively place

lmaoaoooaoaao you just got unlucky zero you got a pretty weird guy

WOO YEAH YSHTOLA the 13th as the life will fill the universe again weaping crying whatever

omg let the eyeball goop enjoy thavnair too

Golbez Grip

there's the Promises We Dont Know About again

i like the void's goofy asses. next is the x.3 patch so someone is going to have to eat it raw

#ffxiv #6.2 spoilers

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theclo4ked1 · 8 months

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(The post I wanted to put is most likely far too long for Tumblr, a mircoblogging website-- what? who said, what a dick! Anyways, here's a condensed version, as best as i can, of that post. there are spoilers below, so play the complete game before reading.)

the final horizion update was finally released last night at about 20.10pm (it was late, it left players confused on wtf was taking so long), and i almost fell asleep playing, again, but thats not the point. i use the nintendo switch to play Sonic Frontiers, and i have 110+ hrs of game time, and my save file had 75+ hrs on it. we've been hungry, "hangry" even, but i assure you, we shall all feast such a divine one. except for me, i wont be fully enjoying it yet. my plates in the fridge marked "plz dont eat :3" back in february when i finally got the game, for $50 lol, i remember spending the whole month on this game, hours spent every night i played, being one of the lucky ones, veterans now, who've waited through the year, hungering, yearning for the next updates to come for. lemme tell you, the Sonic Team "grill masters" (- someone on twitter, 2023) cooked, and that moment when the update finished installing, and i saw that glorious "Another Story has opened up on Ouranos" booting up the game was an exhilarating feeling. it was weird that Another Story was a proper noun. i didnt know what to expect, but I was excited anyway to see where I would go from there. unfortunately, the mystery and wonder was kinda removed due to the prior knowledge of Tails, Knux, and Amy (my girl returneth!) being playable again, the final boss changing, and now something huge is happening with Ouranos, which is the access point to the Another Story portion of the game via a giant ring (they bought the warp ring back!) however, before entering the ring, the game prompts you with a long warning message that game progress will be halted, and recommends completing the game first before returning here as it uses your current save slot. the way i see it, the AS acts like a parallel universe; the game's timeline splits after Rhea. the normal timeline is Sonic going about collecting the emeralds again, and eventually fighting Supreme and The End (ive never heard Vandalize in-game before cuz ive only played on hard mode, a small price to pay for being a chad gamer). this new timeline, the AS, is where after teleporting to Ouranos, Sage pulls a godtier move and is like "ayo lemme pull this godtier move real quick" and frees Sonic's friends, though still in their mid-dimensional forms, so they can collect the Chaos Emeralds (which are in different places than the vaults of the prime timeline). there are also more towers that just appeared on Ouranos, so my first thought was "oh my god they recombined Kronos, Rhea, and Ouranos, so thats why the towers are here", but no, it's apparently reserved for something relating to the four Titans; "memorials" as Sage put it in the release trailer. my reaction is still mixed on this, but i understand why they made a split like this; to keep the old and merge the new without changing much. i thought they would completely change the last fifth of the game to just be the AS portion, but no, it's just... Another Story. another book to read after this one that details specific and canon events that arent told in the first material. i played until i got to Knuckles' first time around the island. here the game mentions that you'll be able to swap characters later which im hoping this function is relegated to the dpad. its right there, four buttons, four characters, they couldn't have missed an opportunity as such. playing as Tails will be lit, but somethings that bothered me were

Amy jumps like shes in Cyberspace so turning is fucked, and

the controls for input feel slightly delayed; Amy's Card Attack combo is the weirdest thing because to execute the third attack, the spin, youre required to press your attack button consecutively AND in a consistent three beat tempo.

i was stuck trying to figure this out. a button pressed counts as the button comes upwards, after being pushed down, to make a click sound (for my gamecube pro-controller which was what i used during my time through the game). it requires a "full A press", not a half. Sonic, in the last update and the short time I played as him before Another Story, didnt have these problems. update 10/1/23: spoiler alert, i made the executive decision to can my save data ("dad-uh") just so i could start again. its an extreme compared to, yknow, just starting a new save SLOT, but i wanted just ONE save slot, and only one. im ocd like that, but im not diagnosed. its a joke. im sure, until a doctor says something that it. btw i started fresh. im about two hours in and Sonic still controls just fine imo the Cyberspace jumping makes some sort of sense because Amy is still between dimensions. still sucks to control though. the input delay i will not understand and im not sure they'll go back and fix this any time soon. so that just leaves me: only able have to eat the scraps and leftovers and cant eat with everyone else who finished this portion the day of. an exaggeration probably, but people have told me "oh yeah i finished that game in a day", the base game, casually. look.

kronos island time of completion (b4 moving on to ares), 7:58:54 ares island time of completion (b4 moving on to chaos), 20:00:28 chaos island time of completion (b4 moving on), 36:15:54 rhea island time of completion, 37:00:26 ouranos island/end time of completion, 48:50:33

my intrinsic explorative gameplay style caused what was about ~20hrs for most other people to be almost 50hrs for me my first time, again spread through a month. the game was said to be 20-60hrs so i guess they were right, but if this new game section takes ~3hrs, it would take me 10-20. more accurately im a completionist type of guy. when i wasnt in Cyberspace i was going around the islands solving puzzles, fighting Guardians, experiencing Starfalls (Starfall+ goes WAY too hard, btw whats with all the + signs, there are new guardians, i saw a Spider+ which is white coloured and shot lots of missiles at me) so i could go fishing with my man Big, which also bumped up my game time, and finding Koco around the map which were probably the biggest contributor why I capped my adventure at 48 hours.

(^ my intrinsic explorative gameplay style likely caused by who else?) they werent necessary for 100%, even Update 2 doesnt list them as needed but i went for as many as i could just because i wanted to. as for my time in post-game, it was spent fishing, rerunning Cyberspace stages, particularly 4-2, finding Koco in places i missed when I thought id been everywhere (and i mean EVERYwhere). all other time was just spent running and rolling by the time Update 2 came out. im a bit bummed that i lost my first ever save. i wont be able to look back and show people "this was the file i sank all my time and love into because i only played through the game once and never looked back", but going through again is both refreshing and will be unsurprising since i will know the events. it wont be like majoras mask not playing for eight years. its like kid icarus uprising, where I never knew what was happening next, and i would send my friend who loaned me the game accurate memes relating to the chapter i just finished (big surprise, chapter 6 is my most played chapter). i was all like "wooooah, that happened and oooooh" thankfully, i still have my scrapbook, i.e. the photos and videos i took via the switch's capture button, stringing together my first moments ("you. leave. immediately." - Sage) to the end ("so... that was fun!" - Sonic). i should compile them into video form. maybe this will be good. God knows im far too late and cant recover anything, so heres to a clean slate to new Frontiers.

(also you still cant manually delete saves. i tweeted to the game director Morio Kishimoto about it, hoping something that i said could change something i want to be better)

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic frontiers #rip my beloved past save data

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

Bark at the Moon

Summary: Walter always comes to you when he needs a hard release. Tonight he seems to need it more than ever.

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Word count: 2K (WTF it was supposed to be a drabble)

Warnings: 18+, sex, lycanthropy, supernatural themes, no strings attached, vaginal fingering, oral performed on female, primal play (slight biting and scratching), cockwarming, slight denial, angst, fluff and romance.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: Not me naming my AUs after Ozzy Osbourne songs/albums. Following my post from October I am trying to follow up. This one-shot is also inspired by A Company of Wolves and @fishcustardandclintbarton moodboard. Many thanks to my beta and muse and dear friend @agniavateira for all the help.

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🖤

Title: Bark at the Moon

Muddy Timberlands dragged across the worn doormat as the large detective sought to rid himself of the dirt caking his soles. Black and soft, the dark mane of curls hung loosely above his forehead, a pale blue sheen cascading over each ringlet that concealed his face while he kicked his feet like an unruly child.

An instinct within pressed you to reach a wandering hand and entwine your fingers between those healthy locks. But ironically, touching Walter screamed ‘taboo,’ as if he wasn't going to finish wet and messy inside you anyway.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have been here.

"Rough evening?" you murmured, taking a long whiff of air. Traces of coffee drifted from his breath, mingling with the brisk November chill that wafted over your face.

It's not that you didn't enjoy his company; it's just that Walter left you with nothing but bitemarks, bruises, and dirty sheets. A foreigner to this country even after all these years, Walter was much like the salty rocks from the islands that bred him: hardened and crude, yet smooth at the edge where the water licked the stone. Some evenings he wouldn't even speak; the moment his boots made it past the doorway, all civilised manners flew out the window, luring the beast to wander. Shredding your outfit, he’d fuck you to tears, shaking you the way a canine carnivore stuns its prey and then unload himself into you until you ached and begged him to stop.

Once stripped off his uniform, the sullen cop was no different than the deviants he shoved behind iron bars. Little did it matter, you loved him enough for the two of you, and though you knew you were a toy to pass the time, he always crawled back to you with that deprived agonised sparkle staining his gaze.

After what seemed like an endless battle between his shoes and the bristly rug, he finally paused and slowly lifted his chin. Marine-blue irises peered below thick brows, and a red rim of weariness perfected his customary scowl.

"Yeah," he drawled with indifference, "got any beer?"

Observing him for a moment, you studied the sharp ridges of his furrowed brow and nodded, turning to let him in. Despite his heavy frame, he followed with lithe stillness, stepping into your house without making a sound while you advanced to the kitchen.

Whatever happened tonight must have left another dent in the coarse material that made this man. You often mused on the things he must have seen and found out it’s better not to ask.

You reached for the fridge when his arm wrapped around your waist by surprise and snatched you back, hauling you flushed against his broad chest. Briefly, he nuzzled your nape, his parted lips huffing hot against your skin. His breath carried the pained melody of a sad longing animal, an ache so great it seeped through the pores of your skin and infected you with his grief.

You weren’t afraid of the beast but felt sorry for it.

“I need to feel you,” Walter rasped, a timbre of plea in his baritone. Palm swiping greedily at your breast and his cock hard and hungry, he ground his hips at the cleft of your ass. Like the black, shaggy dog that he was, he sniffed the air and then rubbed himself further against your jeans, seducing the wanton animal within you to come out of its hiding.

“You want me too, I can smell it, I can smell your cunt.”

Where was the lie?

With a guttural growl, he turned you to face him, skilful hands already making tatters of your clothes and his fangs nipping your throat. Caged in his grasp, you hissed and shuddered out of fear and lust. A part of you was always frightened that one night Walter will pierce an artery by mistake at the heat of the moment whilst another, more archaic urge, called for the sweet passion that was your Thanatos.

Succumbing to both urges, you forced his cable-knit sweater off, exposing his muscular, beefy torso and splaying your hands down his flexing pecs to feel the soft, dark fur that covered his chest and belly. Everything about Walter was large and charged with virility, twisting your moral compass and making any argument weak in his presence. Staring at the bulge in his trousers, you gnawed your bottom lip, giving to the pang of hunger that shot through your clenching core while your wicked fingers began to fumble with the clasp of his belt.

With a low roar rumbling in his chest, he scrutinised you as if this was a trial, his eyes flashing, anticipating you to reach and grab his large cock.

“Fuck…” his sonorous voice caressed your ears. He quickly slid his hand down your trousers, grabbing a handful of your ass before gliding his fingers to feel between your engorged petals.

A tempest of moans unfurled from your clenching throats once you squeezed his shaft in your palm, choking around the veins adorning the meaty girth.

“You are always so wet for me, always so ready,” he uttered and licked your cheek.

“Walter, please!”

At your plea, his fingers slipped deep inside your burning cavern. Back and forth, he probed your little slit, spreading thick wetness across your mound and further up your virginal ass to taunt you.

Before you met Walter you vowed that you’ll never be into that kind of debauchery. But whenever the bulbous crown of his cock accidentally teased your puckered hole, the only thing you could muster to think of was how much you wanted him to fill every empty inch within you.

Long, nimble fingers dug deep, parting your sealed walls asunder in an endeavour to find the small heap of pleasure that regressed you to savagery. You were nothing but an instrument of pleasure, gyrating to the melody he composed by the rhythm of his thrusts, following every note. He made you shudder, made the earth below split in half and all the while, he held back and watched. A sick mist of curiosity hovered over the frigid ocean that was his glance, mindful of how logic and reason drained from your face, leaving you utterly incoherent and primal.

Just as he was.

He crooned at your whimpers and nodded at the desperation dripping from your gaze. Hips swaying, you wriggled against his hand in a frustrated attempt to reach for the tendrils of ecstasy that loomed inches from your grasp.

“You want to come, love?” he asked, almost patronising. His brow lifted, and his eyes flared with what you could only describe as pity.

“Yes! Please! Please make me come!”

His fingers tore from your sleek with a sudden haul, leaving you a trembling, outraged mess. Yet you had no time to curse him for denying your pleasure. Moving faster than your thoughts, Walter stripped your trousers and slammed you rear onto the counter. Kneeling between your spread legs, his strong hands gripped your thighs and dragged your cunt into his bearded jaw.

“Fuck!”

His mouth wrapped around you in a lover’s embrace, his silky tongue plunging between your lips to savour the honeyed nectar that dripped from your tightening core. Thoroughly devouring your cunt, Walter hummed. Raw, unfiltered, and unbound, he laved every inch within as if he was dining at Olympus and feasting on ambrosia for the first time. Arching back, you dared to entangle your fingers in his curls and ride his bristly face until you succumbed to the furious, quaking bliss that spasmed within your womb and consumed you into rapturous euphoria.

Engulfed in a veil of blissful darkness, you continued wailing, heaving, and slumping on the counter. Puny jitters of aftershock trod upon your throbbing flesh while Walter finished his feast with languid laps of his tongue.

Once you blinked your eyes open, Walter stood straight between your legs, now fully naked, peering at you quietly. His eyes were aglow with all the conundrums he could never speak. Still hazy from your ecstasy, you stared back with awe, drinking each taut bulging muscle and worshipping the feral, beastlike entity that he was. Not even the scars on his body could steal away his unspoken pride.

Reaching a hand for his imposing cock, he crept closer and glared straight into your soul as he pressed himself into your tight little entrance. A loud groan thundered through your kitchen as he pushed in, erupting into the most melodic war cry which never failed to astound you once he penetrated you. Still clenched from your orgasm, you gritted your teeth and whimpered in pain, not quite ready to have all of him at once. Yet Walter wasn’t keen on stopping and continued delving deeper and deeper, despite your nails tearing fresh new trails of blood down his shoulders.

“Wait!” you pleaded, yelping when he suddenly bottomed out inside you.

An arduous gasp tore from his lips, and his forehead dropped on your shoulder. Stilling inside you, he breathed in the mien of a wild creature, trying to regain his composure for a brief moment as he timed his assault. Fingers etched below your thighs, he pulled you up with ease and carried you through the apartment whilst still buried inside you.

Confused by his actions, you hung your arms around his thick neck and clung to his body, welcoming the soft brush of his hide against your naked breasts.

Soon, you found yourself on your bed with him seated beneath you while your legs enveloped his wide waist. Nestled between your cinching walls, his cock throbbed full of rage, desperate for the unbridled friction that Walter forbade as he refused to move. Milking every drop of his self-control, he vigorously fought to dominate his desire.

With his shaft pulsating hot and buried completely within your womb, your previous orgasm felt like a distant dream and a fresh new need soon awoke, begging your body to writhe on top of him and take what you were promised by force. But Walter was in no rush to unmake any part of you just yet. Securing one arm around the small of your back while the other held your jaw, he made you stare directly into his eyes.

Bare more than ever, he allowed you to glimpse through the cracks that creased his beautiful blue eyes, showing you the pure terror harbouring the heart of darkness that lived within him.

Perhaps, a part of him desired you to break and cast him away from you, to say ‘nevermore.’

Mercy softened your face instead.

Enamoured and embroiled with curiosity, you allowed yourself to roam freely, gliding both your eyes and fingertips to descend the delectable plains of his body. Tender and careful, you stroked a soothing touch over the elevated scar tissue the way one pets a wounded creature, your gentle caress painting over the large claw mark that marked him years ago and left him cursed.

Walter followed the movement of your hand. His chest sinking with a low roar, his cock twitched and swelled inside your protesting canal while he remained immobilised and kept himself sheltered in the warmth of your sanctuary.

“Last night,” he finally spoke, his voice soft yet drenched with hesitation while his eyes dropped to stare into nothing for a shy moment. “Last night, when I turned... I… killed someone…”

Your heart clenched in anguish along with the seams of your cunt. All the hurt that flowed in Walter’s blood now mingled into yours, ascending your body from the spot where you were coupled.

What you wanted most of all was not to run. No. You desired to suck the poison tainting his veins and swallow it instead, unable to bring yourself to do anything but love him more than you did earlier.

Spreading your legs further to each side of his hips, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him. Nails biting into his muscular back you clutched him tightly, making a firm statement of your unwillingness to spite him for his actions.

Because, even a beast needs to be protected and cared for.

* Disclaimer: I don’t own Night Hunter/Nomis or Walter Marshall * Dividers by @firefly-graphics

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #walter marshall #Werewolf!Henry Cavill #night hunter #walter marshall x reader

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spectre-fivee · 3 years

Text

Over the Moon: Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8081 (wtf this is so close to Anakin’s secret password or whatever, also WOW this is easily the longest piece I’ve ever written)

Warnings: HEAVY smut, both male and female receiving oral, unprotected sex, lots and lots of dirty talk, heavy use of the word ‘master’, dom/sub play, slight brat taming, praise and humiliation kink, edging, slight force play & restraint

A/N: Hey yalllll I’m back with another smut LMAO this is a prequel to let me take care of you, my first obi-wan smut :DD this is LONG asf and includes a small backstory but I promise the majority of it includes smut scenes lol. I hope you guys enjoy and I love your feedback!! much love <3

******************

You were over the moon when you found out that you would be accompanied by General Obi Wan Kenobi on your next business trip.

Literally. Quite literally, you were over the moon. You had just coincidentally flown over Centax-3 and were now in pursuit to Coruscant's surface in preparation for your oncoming journey, and you were so beyond excited that you found it hard to contain yourself around your personal guards. Just as you entered the planet’s atmosphere, you decided you had enough of the automated briefing and muted the transmitter on your arm. You were too focused on the fact that you were going to be alone with General Kenobi for an entire day.

Well, night really. You had managed to catch that part of the briefing.

You could watch it later. As you packed, perhaps. It was fine.

Feeling like a little girl as you basically pranced back to your quarters, you lugged a small bag out of your closet and began to fill it with necessities.

Being a senator for so many years had forced you into countless situations with General Kenobi, but never such as this one. When you met the Jedi Knight in the beginning of your career, the two of you clicked almost instantly. Over time, your admiration of the man blossomed into something...different.

Oftentimes the general would escort you from the Senate Chamber itself all the way to your office on the third floor. He had always been so well spoken and full to the brim with witty charm, enough to make you feel like a total schoolgirl when you locked yourself in your office, squealing and jumping up and down after your encounters with him. Sometimes, you would accompany Obi Wan on walks both inside and outside the building. One time, he was kind enough to show you the gardens outside the Jedi temple on Coruscant. Other times, you were simply by his side in the senate halls, holding your stomach as you just about died of laughter. It was all you could do to keep yourself from absolutely melting when he looked at you with those glittering blue eyes, his lips curved up into a smirk.

Butterflies swarmed in a vicious frenzy as you packed your bag, your cheeks so hot you thought you might explode just at the thought of General Kenobi. You looked up when you heard a soft knock at your door. “Come in,” You had said before a guard stepped inside and informed you that you were leaving earlier than the time scheduled. You nodded and rose to your feet swiftly with a polite smile.

“That’s alright, I’m already prepared.”

***************

The only thing you had forgotten was to finish watching the automated briefing.

Which, arguably, should have been at the top of your list. But somehow it had just slipped from your mind. Now, you were positioned in between General Kenobi and his commander, CC-2224, but you knew him as Cody. The two men remained quiet and Obi Wan tapped through the data pad in his hand. When you glanced at Cody, you couldn’t tell what exactly he was looking at or if he even had his eyes open under his helmet, he was so quiet. Either way, you cast him a polite smile when you glanced his way.

You felt kind of awful, really. This was, on your part, a mission regarding humanitarian aid, and you were the Galactic Republic’s representative in this instance. You didn’t know anything about this planet you were traveling to, only its name - Lelroth. You didn’t know the people’s conditions nor how much territory the Separatists occupied, that is, unless the citizens had decided to stand their ground.

A clone trooper’s voice came over the intercom of the transporter. “We’ll be arriving shortly.”

You tried to peek at Obi Wan’s data pad in hopes of receiving any information. “Have you ever been to Lelroth?” You asked.

He glanced up at you. “No. Frankly, I have no idea what to expect.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” You muttered quietly. His eyebrows quirked up as he stared at you.

“What?” You asked.

“You...received the briefing, correct?” He asked, and immediately your palms began to sweat.

“Of course I received the briefing.” You responded a little too defensively. He gave you a small grin before looking back down at the tablet in his hands.

You glanced over at Cody nervously as if expecting a response. You felt stupid after your eyes fell onto his yellow helmet, hearing Obi Wan step away and enter the pilot’s cabin.

“You didn’t watch the briefing, did you?” Cody asked, his voice hushed and amused.

“No.” You said. “No, I did not.”

You heard his chuckle through the moderator in his helmet as heat rose to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but smile and punch him playfully, giggling slightly. He leaned closer and began to fill you in quietly, and all jokes fell aside when you learned of the planet’s condition.

Few months prior, Lelroth had fallen under separatist control after the population had been forced under Count Dooku’s submission. The Republic Senate had been receiving reports of just about anything you could think of to describe a humanitarian crisis. You stumbled into Cody a bit as the ship landed.

“We’re here.” The pilot announced as the hatch lowered with a loud, steaming noise.

You squinted as bright sunlight poured into the cabin, raising a hand up to block the sun as Obi Wan stepped out. Lelroth’s atmosphere was thick and humid as you followed him, listening to the dirt crumble beneath your feet as you stepped out. You gazed around the enclosing woods with a small smile, the saturation taking you by surprise after being stuck on Coruscant’s smoggy surface for so long. Though it was muggy, the air felt clean and fresh as you took in a deep breath. You swore you could almost taste the moisture on your tongue.

“Preferably tomorrow morning, yes. I’ll be contacting the council tonight and…” The general’s voice came in and out of earshot as you glanced over at the assault carrier you arrived on. You watched as the clones nodded swiftly at the Jedi’s words, saluting him one last time before the hatch closed and the ship descended through the trees. It was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived.

Obi Wan sighed and pulled the data pad back out of the abyss of his dark cloak before tapping at the screen again. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?” He murmured.

You laughed slightly. “Is my presence such a bother?” The tablet still held his attention as he flashed you a grin.

“Oh, yes. That’s definitely the reason.” He joked.

A sickening feeling started to grab at your stomach after hearing Cody describe the condition on Lelroth. You were unnerved, and regardless of the fact that you had a Jedi Knight as your company, you two were members of the Galactic Republic isolated on separatist territory.

“We should get going.” You murmured. “They’ll be expecting us soon.” you watched Obi Wan pull his large hood over his head as he murmured something under his breath, stepping forward and heading deep into the thick forest with you on his tail.

****************

The Lelrothians were a kind people. Their reaction to your arrival with the general was rather pleasant - they went so far as to throw a feast in you and the general’s honor. After meeting with the chief of the village you would reside in, you finally got a real understanding of the Lelrothians’ situation. You and Kenobi shared a grimaced glance as the chief went on to describe the state of his village alone.

He explained how a large percentage of the newfound members in his village were forced to flee the capital city after falling under a dark hand. You assumed the state of the capital was even worse than this small village as he reported substantial amounts of depleted resources. Running water had been cut off to many families and citizens could no longer supply food on their tables. The chief even mentioned the punishments some experienced for resisting - you weren’t surprised in the nearest after hearing tales of the wicked actions of General Grievous and his clanker army, but still...it was hard to hear.

“We were neutral ground,” You gazed over the chief’s descending head tails as he spoke. Dinek Kev was a twi’lek himself, his account thick and common amongst most of his species. When you glanced around the table, there had to be over fifteen different species in just the room alone. Sullustans, Ithorians, even a few Gungans and a Wookiee occupied a seat at the table. You smiled to yourself and returned your attention to the orange skin of Chief Dinek as he spoke.

“A peaceful people. Nearly everyone in this room is an immigrant or comes from one, somebody who was seeking peace. Other pacifist planets such as Mandalore seem to have been fine as they’ve remained neutral.”

“Believe me, Chief - Mandalore has been experiencing a great deal of their own internal conflict.” General Kenobi spoke.

“Forgive me, Jedi.” Dinek murmured quickly. “I’m just...desperate. I would have never taken the role of chief if it weren’t for Grievous and his army - I only want to protect my family and my home.”

You reached out and took Dinek’s hand, staring into his eyes sympathetically. “I’ll open it up for discussion in the senate as soon as I return to Coruscant. I promise you, Chief Dinek, we’re going to provide Lelroth with humanitarian aid and drive the separatists out of here.”

“I’ll speak with the council tonight.” The hood of Obi Wan’s cloak hung lazily around his neck as he murmured, stroking his beard in his typical fashion. His delicate blue eyes were glued onto his empty plate. Dinek squeezed your hand and began to thank the two of you profusely. You bit your lip, hesitant to discuss the requirements in order for any agreement to come through within the senate.

“Chief Dinek,” You started. “The villagers are going to have to learn to defend themselves.”

All you got from him in response was a simple blink, a common reaction among those the Jedi come to aid. Most planets that fall under separatist control hold peaceful populations, those who don’t believe in waging war and therefore seeing no need for a military. You desperately wished it didn’t have to be this way. It was heartbreaking seeing simple, innocent lives dragged into the Clone Wars, and one day, you hoped that the galaxy would evolve into one where war could be completely evaded.

“Defend ourselves? You mean train us to fight?” Dinek asked.

“Yes.” You replied.

“That is why we’re here.” Obi Wan explained. The chief finally slid his hand from yours and seemed to recoil at the words spoken. “The Jedi can only aid so much, Chief. The Lelrothians need to learn to defend themselves in order to be sure of complete safety from the separatists.”

After a moment of watching the chief calculate in silence, he looked up at you two with an entirely different expression on his face. He glanced around the dim room and gazed over his people with a small smile curved upon his lips. His eyes darted to yours before Obi Wan’s as he spoke.

“You’re right. The Lelrothians are never going to evade this if we don’t take matters into our own hands.” You smiled at Dinek’s words.

“Good.” Obi Wan stroked his beard again.

“I’ll leave for Coruscant at dawn and begin discussion in the senate.” You announced.

“Yes, and that is when training will begin. Tonight I will get an idea of when reinforcements will arrive on Lelroth. We’ll have a very short timespan to train, I suspect.” The general uttered.

“General Kenobi and I will stay in contact and you’ll be the first to know the senate’s decision.” You concluded. Dinek took your hand again and smiled/

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” As he spoke, music began to sound from the instruments held by those up on a small, makeshift stage. The villagers began to cheer and rose to their feet, clapping along to the tune that billowed out from various horns. You grinned as the chief stood and joined his people, taking a woman’s hand delicately and spinning her in delight.

You looked over at Obi Wan with a smile. He looked up at you and met your gaze with the rise of an eyebrow. “What?” He asked.

“Wanna dance?” You giggled. He merely scoffed.

“That would seem a bit unprofessional.” You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Oh, lighten up, General. They threw an entire feast in our honor, surely we can dance with them.”

He smiled at you sarcastically. “I’ll pass.”

“C’mon. You know you want to.” You pressed, nudging him playfully.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answered simply.

“Just relax. It’s not like you’ll get kicked out of the order or whatever. It’s just dancing!” He glanced up at you in his seat as you stood, grinning down at him.

“You can be very nagging, did you know that?” He asked. You offered your hand, the same stupid grin plastered onto your lips. He scoffed again and reluctantly took it, rising to his feet slowly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He muttered with a grin as you pulled him over to the crowd and were instantly submerged by cheers, laughter, and celebration, having the time of your life with Obi Wan at your side.

**********************

The celebration soon came to an end and after a brief escort from Chief Dinek and a few of his men, you and General Kenobi arrived at the motel you would come to stay at briefly. The neon lights of the vacancy sign cast a bleached hot pink color onto the gravel beneath your feet. It crunched and crumbled as you stepped, tuning out of Obi Wan and Dinek’s conversation as you were led into the cramped lobby.

The wallpaper was faded and chipping in the room surrounding the front desk. A small Sullustan woman sat in an organically shaped velvet chair with a book open in front of her. Dinek stepped forward and quickly informed her that you and Kenobi were the reinforcements sent from Coruscant. You listened as she told the chief that there was only one room available, in which you and Obi Wan shrugged off. She thanked the two of you, passed over the room key and sent you on your way. As you trudged up the wooden stairs that led to the second floor, you heard Obi Wan sigh.

“Tired from all that dancing, General?” You chuckled. “You sure know how to get down.”

“Yes, but you on the other hand…” He trailed off, and when you looked back at him with a dramatic expression on your face, he chuckled.

You smiled and swiped the key card through the slot outside the door. “Whatever.”

The two of you didn’t think much of the fact that there was only one room available. It didn’t matter to either of you, because all motel rooms generally contain two separate beds, right?

Wrong. Apparently, all hotel rooms except this one contained two separate beds. Your jaw wanted to hang open at the sight of it, really. Obi Wan froze in his tracks when he entered the compact room.

“Not even a sofa?” you commented. The door still hung open behind you when Obi Wan turned and met your gaze almost frantically.

“There has to be a mistake.” He said.

“She said this was the only room available. Dinek said this was the only lodge in the village.” You mumbled, finally shutting the door.

“Right, well.” The general uttered and stroked his beard once again, beginning to pace as he did so. “I guess I’ll sleep on the floor.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll sleep on the floor, you have to train in the morning.” You watched as he traveled over to the chairs seated at a tiny round table in front of the window. They were a brilliant orange in contrast to the faded, once flamboyant green walls.

“No. The chair will do.” He said as he sunk into the cushion. “See?” He planted his feet onto the stem of the table, pushing it back so it allowed him to stretch his ankles over the surface. You only stared at him with your eyebrows raised.

“It beats the floor.” Obi Wan shrugged. You shook your head, smiling as you sat on the edge of the bed. You were facing forward, looking at the painting that hung on the wall before you. The sheets on the mattress were an ugly plaid that was laced with oranges, reds, greens and browns. It was very dated, but at the same time it almost felt...homey.

“We’re adults, aren’t we?” You chuckled. “This is only a business trip, General. Stars, if we have to we can just build a pillow wall between the two of us.”

When you didn’t get an immediate response, you glanced over at him only to see the amused expression on his face. But it was the kind of amused look that nearly belittles you and makes you feel completely and utterly ridiculous.

“Yes, and a business trip it will remain.” He uttered. “I do hope you’re joking.”

Your cheeks grew hot in flustered embarrassment. “Uh - I mean, yeah. Totally kidding.” You darted your eyes to your feet and began to swing them back and forth childishly. You heard chuckling from the general’s end but didn’t dare look over at him. You didn’t need to, you already knew he was sitting back and staring at the data pad again.

Moments passed and you had nothing else better to do than sift through the dusty magazines that sat below the bedside table. The lamp atop the metal surface cast a warm, dim yellow light through the room. It made you feel almost cozy as you flipped through the old pages, reading the articles and gazing at some of the most beautiful alien models you had ever laid eyes on. “Wish they had a holonet in here.” You muttered, bored and wishing for some kind of noise instead of this awkward silence that hung in the air.

Time continued to drag on and it grew late enough for you to decide to head into the bathroom to change your clothes. You turned the handle and listened as the faucet began to run while staring at yourself in the mirror. The general seemed grumpy after your comment, and you weren’t sure why. It was easily played off as a joke, you thought...besides, you only wanted to save him from a little back pain and stiffness in the morning.

You were only trying to be polite. And, well...you were secretly hoping for a little more than that.

As you splashed warm water onto your face, you heard Obi Wan’s voice from the other side of the door and watched as his figure cast shadows across the tile you stood on. The automated voice of Master Yoda and Master Mace Windu echoed around the small room as the general began to discuss with the council.

When you stepped out of the bathroom and crawled under the covers, you tried your best not to eavesdrop on his conversation. You stared at the magazine in your lap blankly.

All he was doing was pacing, it was rather distracting. You wished this place had a radio or something, or that it was safe enough to take a short walk. The meeting between Obi Wan and the other Jedi Masters seemed to last eons as you found your eyelids growing heavy. You stared at the cover of the magazine, it showcased a twi’lek woman posing in front of a ship. You yawned, cast it aside and allowed sleep to take over completely.

******************

When you woke up, it was still dark outside. The lamp beside your bed had been shut off by Obi Wan, but the one hanging above the chair he sat in remained lit as he set down the data pad with a sigh. You weren’t sure what had woken you up, and as you gazed at the general while you laid on your side, you didn’t really care.

You could tell he was weary as he blinked slowly and ran his fingers through his hair. Glancing away, you felt slightly creepy as you stared at him for so long. But, I mean, could you really blame yourself?

After moments of silence, Obi Wan was the one to break it. “My apologies. I didn’t realize that the meeting would take so long.” His voice was deep and a bit croaky as it came out.

“It’s okay.” Was all you said as he reached for the light above him.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured.

“Are you sure you don’t want to share the bed?” You made sure it was apparent that you were joking as you smiled and chuckled, gazing at him as you did so. He paused for a moment, staring at you before his lips curved up into a grin.

“I see that pillow wall is still up for discussion?” He teased, and you laughed again.

“C’mon, it won’t bite. Besides, I’m only trying to save you from a little back pain.”

“Senator, are you implying that I’m old?” He chuckled.

“No, but I do understand that the dancing was already a step over the line for you.” You giggled, smirking. “Hurry up with that decision making please, I’m tired.”

Obi Wan laughed slightly before reaching up and turning off the light. To your disappointment, he didn’t stand up from his chair. You sighed softly and shut your eyes, letting go of the situation as you focused on falling asleep again.

Just as your mind began to wander, you felt a weight sink into the mattress beside you. Your eyes flew open as Obi Wan climbed into bed next to you, only to stare at the complete darkness that surrounded.

You grinned. “Did you change your mind?”

He sighed as he settled in. You could feel him, mere inches away from you as he relaxed. “Don’t make me regret it, Senator.”

You chuckled as darker thoughts began to consume you, reminding yourself that this was a business trip - strictly business. You wondered if Obi Wan thought the same, but you shot that down with another reality check as well.

You wanted to say something, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were worried that Obi Wan was actually trying to sleep, and you didn’t want to disturb him, or worse - make things even more awkward like earlier. Now, more than ever, you knew you were never going to fall asleep with Obi Wan Kenobi lying next to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?”

“I can practically feel how restless you are at the moment.” He murmured.

“Am I moving too much or is it your spooky voodoo magic?” You asked. He began to chuckle softly.

“Do you mean the Force?”

“Yeah, that.”

“It doesn’t take a Jedi to feel you staring at me.” The grin in his voice made you feel even more embarrassed as you rolled over onto your opposite side, your eyes squeezed shut.

Obi Wan hesitated for a moment before murmuring, “I never said stop, darling. I don’t mind.” His words ignited a spark that released trillions of butterflies swarming in your stomach, and you couldn’t stop the gigantic smile that was forming on your lips.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” As you responded, you felt the general’s weight shift behind you.

His voice came from above you now. “Oh, you didn’t hear me clearly?” You felt his hot breath against your ear as he spoke his next sentence. “I said, I don’t mind your staring. I just wish you would stare at me when I could see you doing it.” His mumbling spiraled into your ear and descended down your body, pausing right in between your legs. You crossed them tight in instinct, nearly gasping.

“I thought you said this trip was strictly business, General.” You breathed.

“Like you said, I already crossed the line when you forced me to dance.” He joked. “Besides, I think we’ve both waited long enough for this moment.” His voice was hushed and gravelly and Stars, sexy as it rumbled into your ear. You turned until you felt his lips were hovering over yours in the darkness, the mattress creaking as you did so.

“You didn’t seem to think that way earlier.” You mumbled, a fat smirk on your face as you teased him. He sunk himself closer to you and you swore you felt his lips brush against yours for a second.

“Nobody needs to know,” He whispered. A moment of silence passed before he dove his lips into yours, drawing out a small sound of surprise from you. You felt his forearm come down beside your head and he let out the tiniest of groans. You knew this was coming judging by your previous dialogue, but you were still in shock. For a moment, you seemed to be dead weight as Obi Wan crawled on top of you. The only thing that moved was your lips against his until realization finally kicked in.

It started with your hands, which rose up swiftly to grab the sides of his face. His beard felt scratchy beneath your fingers in the best way as you hooked your legs around his waist. You had always wanted to touch him like this, to feel and move with him as your mouths were connected and one was on top of the other. It was something you could only fantasize about for the longest time until you had to tell yourself it was never going to happen. But now, it was happening.

His lips were as soft and welcoming as the pillows beneath your head as he kissed you. It was deep and passionate and almost aggressive, and that alone confirmed to you that Kenobi wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Following your hands came your tongue as you pressed it between his lips gently, silently asking for entrance into the warm cave of his mouth. He granted permission and you felt his hand entangle in your hair when your tongues met. You sat up slightly, pushing yourself into him further as you dragged your teeth across the pink valley of his bottom lip. The grip nestled in your hair tightened in reaction and you giggled softly into him.

He tasted of fresh mint, and you found yourself wondering if he had brushed his teeth mere moments before this. He was dominating and absolutely thrilling as he rolled over, allowing you to straddle his waist and dip your chin down to his neck to leave a series of pecks down his flesh.

“Someone’s eager,” he commented, and in response you bit down slightly into his skin. He made a small startled noise in response before chuckling, abruptly flipping you onto your back. He left you breathless as his lips collided into yours again, and he groaned when you arched into him. His hands were absolutely everywhere. They ran from your jaw to your neck and then down to your forearms, back up to your shoulders and down to your breasts, down to your waist to grab at your hips...seemingly all at once.

He squeezed his fingers into the meat of your thighs and you groaned, raking your own through his hair. You felt like his touch was all you needed as your tongue slid against his.

Darkness still engulfed the two of you. Obi Wan’s skin was on fire when he caressed you, the heat between your legs was set ablaze as he dipped his chin down, his lips traveling down your neck slowly. You wanted to see him, his face when he looked down at you, his blue eyes clouded with lust. You wanted to look into his eyes and absolutely moan his name, you wanted to -

Obi Wan’s lips left your skin just above the hem of your shirt. He paused for a moment, holding himself before you and panting. “What is it?” You asked.

“Take off your clothes.” He commanded. You felt him lean to the side and squinted when the lamp was switched on. You didn’t respond as your eyes adjusted to the light, you only peered at him rather dumbly. You watched when he dragged his tongue across his lower lip. His eyelids looked heavy when he stared down at you.

“Did I stutter?” He asked. Your heart picked up pace and you grinned when you grabbed the neckline of his robes and yanked him forward.

“Why don’t you take it off for me?” You mumbled, blinking innocently. You felt your wrists fly above your head, elbows bent slightly as they tied together under an invisible grasp. You were confused for a moment as the general began to run his hands underneath your shirt, caressing your sides and traveling over your breasts briefly. It took a moment before it finally dawned on you that he was using the Force as your restraint.

He slid the fabric up ever so slowly and stared at your stomach when it was slowly revealed. He continued, his big warm hands sliding up your skin and pausing just as your breasts were revealed. He murmured something inaudible before tightening his grip around your waist and pulling you down on the mattress so his lips were level with your nipples. You moaned quietly, biting your lip as he began to kiss them. Your cunt was throbbing at this point and the muscles in your arms grew tired from being in such an unfamiliar position. You shut your eyes, but all at once the sensation on your breasts was removed as Obi Wan straightened his posture and finished ripping off your shirt. It came over your head quickly and was tossed to the side as if it were nothing.

“Can I have my hands back?” You giggled, breathless as he gazed at you.

He left soft, sweet kisses on the inside of your arms, his eyes twinkling as he had you paralyzed by the Force. “Not yet.” He said, and you didn’t have time to read the expression on your face before his lips were on your breasts again. You pushed your hips up against his chest as he continued, whining as he bit down gently onto your nipples. His lips descended down the center of your stomach, leaving slow, wet kisses on your skin before pausing just above the waistline of your pants. His blue eyes finally blinked up at you, and he was smirking.

Your cunt was throbbing so damn hard you wondered if he could feel it at this point. “Please,” You breathed. “I want to touch you.”

“Not yet,” Obi Wan repeated before curling his fingertips around the hem of the fabric and dragging it down your thighs.

“This...isn’t fair.” You grunted as you tried to pull your wrists from their restraint. It was no use, it felt like your arms were paralyzed in this position. Your pajama pants were now being thrown to the side just as your shirt was, and the general was leaving small pecks up the length of your legs whilst holding strong eye contact.

“Please, general - “ your cunt felt like it was on fire when he lifted his chin to look at you.

“Did you...seriously just call me ‘general’ in this setting?” He paused, chuckling.

“Well, I - “ you were flustered and frustrated at this point. “I don’t know, what should I call you?!” You had snapped. He only grinned with a shrug before he continued, pulling at your skin with his teeth.

He dug his fingers into your sides, and in between slow kisses, he said, “Doesn’t matter...whatever feels...most...comfortable.”

You thought about it for a moment. Yeah, you supposed referring to him as General Kenobi was a bit strange as he was actively stripping you of your clothing. But it still didn’t feel right calling him Obi Wan, either. You weren’t sure why.

Your wrists were finally released as his lips reached the corner of your inner thigh just below your flaming heat. Your panties still hugged your hips when Kenobi glanced up at you, seeming like he had forgotten to hold your arms in place.

Without giving him any chance of reaction, you slid out from under him and pounced on him like a fucking animal. You giggled and he shared your smile as you sat on him and began to rid him of his robes.

Once they were off and you finally got to shower every possible centimeter of his skin with kisses, but he was quick to flip you back over so you were trapped beneath him again. You struggled to get atop of him with a grunt, but it was useless. He was already pinning your wrists to the sheets again and barricading you with his own weight.

“Behave.” Again, his voice rumbled right into your ear, hot and thick as he nipped at your earlobe. In response you arched your back into him and whined, digging your fingernails into his back.

“Let me touch you - “ you grunted. “I want to...to make you feel good. I can make you feel so good, Master.” You moaned, letting the words fall from your mouth without even a second thought. In an instant, his fingers were around your chin and you were being forced to look into his pretty eyes.

“What did you call me?” He asked.

You giggled. “You heard me.”

A minute went by before he moved his hand from your chin downwards, slowly tightening around your neck. “Say it again.” You smiled and tilted your head back, shutting your eyes and moaning the word again.

“Master.”

He let out a sound similar to a growl before he rolled over, positioning yourself on top of his lap. You could feel his large erection beneath you, and it was in the perfect spot as you rolled your hips forward and crouched down, allowing your lips to meet his.

He kissed you aggressively, placed one hand on the back of your head and forced you into him while the other snaked underneath the fabric of your panties, finding your clit almost instantly. You whimpered against his lips and continued to grind against his cock before using your own hands to remove yourself from the barricading fabric.

You were so desperate to feel him inside of you. He grabbed your chin again and forced your lips to part, staring at you with dark eyes and a wicked grin as he pressed the pad of his thumb to your lower lip. “So desperate for it, aren’t you?” He mumbled.

You huffed and tossed your underwear to the side before pressing your lips against his ear and murmuring, “Can you feel how wet I am for you, Master?”

He grunted and moved his hands to your hips, forcing them down onto his cock. You rocked them forward, letting the tip slide over your clit and through your slick folds with a moan. Fuck, this felt good. You lapped at his earlobe and giggled before continuing. “Just imagine how good it’ll feel when you put it in, so warm and wet and tight - “

“You’ll want to shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work.” He growled, and a wild grin spread over your face before you positioned him below your entrance.

You took him in slowly with a long moan and straightened you back, your breasts high and prominent for him to see. “Fuck,” you moaned. Your eyebrows furrowed as he filled you up.

Obi Wan grunted. “Stars, can’t you go any quicker?” He was frustrated as you giggled again.

“I think this feels fucking good.” You moaned again. “Your cock is so - “ you were cut off by his hand on your throat, forcing him down to his own face. He didn’t say anything, just silently forced your lips against his. It made you lose control of your pace, plunging down onto his entire length at once, drawing moans from both of you as you kissed.

“That’s better.” He mumbled against you. “Now do it again.”

You brought your hips up once more and slithered your tongue into his mouth, allowing them to fall back down, your cunt swallowing him whole in one stroke. Just as you started to kiss his neck again, you were flipped onto your back for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Would you just let me - “ The familiar grip on your chin cut you off, and your eyes were forced into his. With his other hand, he brought your knees to your chest and positioned himself at your entrance. He absolutely rammed himself inside of you without any issues, and your eyes widened when you gasped.

“I thought...I told you...to behave.” Obi Wan grunted in between his thrusts. Your fingers found their grip in the sheets beside you. Your back arched and you moaned while he pumped himself in and out of your wet cunt.

“If this is what I get for misbehaving…” you panted, tears pricking at your eyes from them being shut so tight. “...then I guess I’ll have to do it more often.”

General Kenobi let out a low groan as he continued thrusting into you, remaining his quick, hard rhythm. Your eyes met his as the two of you moaned, and his hand found its way back into the roots of your hair as he muttered, “Say it.”

“Master,” you mewled as he tugged on your hair, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he thrusted into you. “Master, your cock feels so good - “ his thumb was on your lip again when he interrupted you.

“Such filthy words coming from this pretty little face,” he murmured. “You like being dirty, don’t you? You enjoy being choked when you misbehave, hmm?”

You didn’t respond, your eyebrows only curved up when you moaned. His hips rolled forward and his cock was still sliding in and out of your folds. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, Master.” Your hand released its grip on the sheets and traveled down in between your legs to gently play with your clit, but Obi Wan stopped you, removing your wrist sharply.

“If you want it, beg for it.” He said slowly.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “Please play with it - Master, please just touch my clit and…” you trailed off with whine as you felt his thumb slowly circling around it, agonizingly slow and so, so hot. You whimpered and rolled your head back into the pillow, tangling your hair against the cotton.

“Does that feel good, darling? Tell me how it feels.”

“Yes, fuck, it feels so good,” You panted, your eyes squeezing shut again. “It feels so fucking good, I might...I might cum,” you continued in between whimpers and moans. “Master - please let me cum.”

“Good girl.” He rasped before removing his thumb completely. You let out a sob as he pulled his length out from you, watching as he began to stroke himself when he lowered his head between your legs. “Such a good girl, asking for my permission.” He murmured before sliding his tongue up your heat ever so slowly, stopping at your clit to circle around it.

You whined, bucking your hips against him, grinding on his face as you babbled. “Fuck...this feels so good, your tongue, shit, I want your cock again - “

“You’ll have to wait for it,” he mumbled against you. Whining, you sat up and propped yourself on your elbows as you panted. You were a mess, and you continued to plead with him until he had enough of it and grabbed you by your shoulders. He forced you onto the floor, sitting on your knees as he sat on the mattress in front of you.

“If you won’t shut your mouth, I’ll just have to do it for you.” He muttered before pushing your head down onto his large cock. You let out a satisfied moan and made sure he was staring at you, remaining eye contact. You lifted a hand to stroke the base as your tongue swirled slowly around the tip, bobbing your head back and forth steadily.

Obi Wan moaned and shut his eyes. “Stars.” He murmured.

You released the tip with an audible pop, allowing a string of drool to fall from the edge of your lower lip. “It feels good, doesn’t it Master?” You planted your tongue to the base of his shaft and slooooowly dragged it up prior to rolling it over the tip and taking him into your mouth again. His breath hitched in his throat.

“You’re so filthy, do you know that? You’re so...good at this, you must have...had - practice...Stars, pretty girl...how are you so good at this?” He mumbled, grunting and moaning between the words that spilled from his mouth.

Again, his shaft left your mouth and you spit on your palm before using it to stroke him up and down. You blinked at him all innocent and doe-like. “I like it when you talk to me like that. Will you cum on my face, Master?”

Obi Wan blinked and grunted, thrusting his hips up into your palm. “You’re obscene.”

“But you like it, don’t you?” You planted a kiss on his tip before gliding your hands along his thighs and rising to your feet. You leaned forward and lifted his chin using your index and middle finger, smiling. “You like seeing me like this. You like making me your dirty little slut, don’t you, Master?” You blinked again and smiled sweetly before swinging your leg around his lap, straddling him.

He was absolutely mesmerized. “Don’t give me that look.”

You did it again, smiled softly. “Or what?” You challenged.

Just as your cunt was about to swallow his length again, you were thrown onto your back strongly and the general’s hand was once again tightened around your neck. His lips were on your ear and his fingers were dancing around your clit as he rammed himself inside of you. Your eyes filled with tears when you cried out, savoring the sudden sensations engulfing you. You moaned, feeling your voice vibrate against his hand.

“I like punishing you, you know.” His voice was low, and you moaned as he licked your ear. “You’re such a good girl when you want to be.”

“This isn’t...much of a punishment.” You grunted. He bit down onto your earlobe and you whimpered.

“Oh, we haven’t gotten to that part yet.” He rasped into your ear. His pace quickened and his fingers felt glorious against your clit. Your movements synced with his perfectly. You could feel yourself quickly approaching your climax as he kissed the skin on your neck, hitting all the perfect places when he pumped into you. It was as if he knew exactly what you wanted and how you wanted it.

You felt yourself caving in and desire dripped from your tongue as you moaned, “I’m gonna cum.” Just as the words fell, everything stopped. Obi Wan’s fingers and his cock left your cunt all at once, and you let out a cry just before his eyes met yours.

“Like I said before,” his lips brushed against your own as he purred into your mouth. “We hadn’t gotten there yet.”

You already had come down almost completely from your previous euphoric state when his fingers glided inside of you. You writhed and moaned under his touch and Stars, this man sure knew who to put his hands to work. When he lowered his lips back down to your clit, you thought you would just about lose your mind. “Fuck.” You moaned. “Please, Master. Let me finish.” You pleaded.

“Quiet.” He muttered before continuing. You obeyed and only continued to moan under his force, biting your lip and rocking your hips against his face as he pleasured you. His free hand slithered up your body and intertwined his fingers with your own as he worked in between your legs. You squeezed his hand so hard that you thought it would just about snap off. Obi Wan finally paused, blinking up at you from in between your legs.

“Are you going to behave now, darling?” He asked, still slowly working his fingers in and out of your cunt as he spoke. You nodded quickly.

“Say it.”

“Y-yes. I’m going to behave, I-I’ll be a good girl for you.” You said then added, “Master.” The general chuckled before instructing you to get on your elbows and knees, to which you obliged and rested your front end onto a cushy pillow. You arched your back, ass raised, and giggled when you received a slap on your ass before Kenobi positioned himself.

He grabbed at and pulled your hair, raising your head so you could see him out of the corner of your eye. He planted a kiss onto your temple before murmuring,

“Pretty, pretty girl.”

Then, he rammed into you so hard and unexpectedly that you gasp and cry out his name. He clearly doesn’t catch it, and you shut your eyes as a single tear falls, continuing to cry out and whimper beneath him. Fuck, it’s amazing, and it’s everything you had ever fantasized it would be. You swear you see stars as he continues, pumping in and out of you again, again, and again...this position seems so much better than before, you thought. His grip is so tight on your hips that you think it may leave bruises, but hell, you love it. You want him to leave marks on you.

You think of all the times before that were filled with nothing but harmless flirting and charm. Now, everything will be different. You giggled at the thought of changing in the morning and seeing the bruises he left on your skin. You could feel yourself approaching your climax just at the thought of knowing that in this moment, you were his.

You almost didn’t want it to end, but you were so desperate to finish after having it ripped from you at the very edge. You were sweating, panting, and groaning the word “Master,” over and over again. “I’m gonna cum,” you said heavily.

“Go ahead.” Obi Wan seemed to gasp. Another tear fell down your cheek and you cried out louder than ever before as you crashed down onto him, all around him, everywhere. Absolutely fucking everywhere, and if it weren’t for the Jedi’s weight holding you up, you would’ve collapsed down into the mattress already. It hit like a fucking train wreck, and he remained his steady pace as your walls closed in onto his cock. You assumed he could feel your shaking, and when your breath heaved in and out of your lungs as you slumped against the pillow beneath you, you smiled a lazy smile.

The sound of Obi Wan Kenobi grunting and letting out a long, high-pitched moan as he came undone inside of you was just about the sexiest thing in the entire galaxy. He collided into the bed beside you, panting as he stared at the ceiling. You finally allowed your hips to fall and rested on your stomach, you head turned to face him. Beads of sweat rolled across his skin when he looked at you, and your thighs still quivered against the sheets.

He dragged two of his fingers softly underneath your chin. “Beautiful,” was all he could make out as he huffed beside you. You shut your eyes, that lazy smile still plastered to your face.

“Do you...think anybody heard us?” You asked, opening your eyes again. You gazed over his beard and his strong features as he peered at you.

“Oh, without a doubt.” He began to chuckle.

“Whoops.” You giggled. He rolled over and pressed his lips to yours briefly before responding.

“If I’m being honest, I really couldn’t care any less.” His voice was husky when he smiled as you pulled him back down, kissing him again and again until you fell asleep in your blissful state.

****************

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