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thegreatwicked · 3 months

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Padawan

Padawan

May I proudly present....! My first reader insert, I wrote this for all you lovelies who follow/like/reblog/comment on my stuff. This is for you! Obi-Wan/You/Reader Insert. Master/Padawan, SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. That is all. Or is it? Should I write more???

Summary: After disappearing from your Master for thirteen years, the Clone Wars has brought you back to the same planet and a brush with death back into each other's lives. But you’re not his Padawan anymore, you’re a knight, right? No, you’ll always be his Padawan, and he, your Master.

~~~

He wasn't a fool; he had sensed your presence the moment you set foot on the planet, like a blinding light or the ring of a bell only he could hear. Of course, he could feel you—how could he not? At least, he could feel you for a while, long enough for him to be certain that he didn’t imagine it in a post-battle haze. You were here.

The first time your force signature vanished, his heart skipped a beat, and a cold rush of panic coursed through his veins and a horrible cold weight settled in his stomach, making him feel like he may be sick. Determined and distracted, he abandoned his conversation in a mad sprint. Searching. He tracked down anyone who had been alongside you on the battlefield, questioning them relentlessly, not caring how he came off as slightly unhinged as opposed to his normal calm and stoic manner, but each inquiry was met with disappointment and vacant glances.

It wasn't until he caught sight of the familiar sight of a blue and white lekku of Ahsoka that a glimmer of hope ignited within him, brighter than any lightsaber. Ahsoka, Anakin’s padawan. She was seemingly unaffected and greeted him with a smile as though she were seeing a dear friend or distant relative, and that in itself was calming. If Ahsoka wasn't distressed, it meant one of two things: either she hadn't heard of your demise, or, more optimistically, you were still alive.

A wave of relief washed over Obi-Wan as Ahsoka confirmed that you were indeed unharmed and engaged in another mission, your paths had briefly crossed long enough for friendly banter involving drinks later. You were not only alive but also hailed as a hero. Your proficiency with the light your orange, lightsaber had garnered admiration, and the news of your success spread across the battlefield.

As he processed this new information, Obi-Wan couldn't shake the questions that haunted him since the day you disappeared, thirteen years ago. What happened? Where had you been? Why had you left without a word?

Had he been too strict, too distant? He paced in his quarters, the weight of uncertainty pressing on his shoulders. Thirteen years of silence, and now he learned you were not only alive but thriving in the chaos of war. Had he been oblivious to your struggles and triumphs as a padawan? Had he overlooked something crucial?

His distress and confusion fueled his determination to find you, to understand the reasons behind your disappearance. The bond between Padawan and Master was meant to endure, but his had been severed without warning or explanation. The quest for answers became a relentless pursuit, driven by a mix of concern, guilt, and an unyielding desire to reconnect with the one he had lost.

Ilum's gift had bestowed upon you a most unique kyber crystal, weaving the essence of the Force into your arsenal—a radiant burnt orange lightsaber. Obi-Wan swelled with pride, recognizing that your exceptional skills not only ensured your safety but also turned the tide amid battle.

Sharing the tale with Ahsoka, Obi-Wan recounted the moments of uncertainty, the fear that gripped him when the disturbance in the Force signaled potential danger. Ahsoka responded with a knowing smile and a playful eye roll, acknowledging your tendency to dive headfirst into peril and emerge victorious as if it was the only possible outcome. Relief washed over Obi-Wan, mirrored by a grateful grin exchanged with Ahsoka, reassured that you navigated the challenges in your own distinctive way.

“She’s gotten quite good at cloaking, hasn’t she?” And with those words, all his nervous energy fell away.

The reality settled, Obi-Wan marveled at the intricacy of your Force signature concealment. Your mastery of the technique was so impeccable that it eluded even his well-honed Jedi senses. In moments of deep meditation, he attempted to reach out, seeking the familiar touch of your intangible presence, only to encounter a mysterious void. Your cloak, flawlessly executed, had transformed you into a Ghost—a moniker that, suddenly, filled him with pride for your evolving abilities.

Days melted into an endless procession of battles, the smoke of war shrouding the fates of those who entered its domain. Unable to locate you through the Force, Obi-Wan sought solace in updates from Ahsoka and the soldiers who served under your command, the Echo Squadron they were called. 'The Ghost,' a symbol of your evasive prowess, deepened his admiration for the padawan who had become an elusive figure amid the chaos of war.

Despite the promising news, Obi-Wan Kenobi's frustration deepened. Thirteen years had passed since he last saw you, his once-promising Padawan and the silence surrounding your disappearance gnawed at him. Pacing his quarters, he questioned the events that had led to this point. You had excelled in your Jedi trials, proving yourself worthy of knighthood, and yet, without a word, you vanished from his life.

The lack of closure weighed heavily on him. Had he failed you as a master? The memories of your training together, the countless missions you undertook side by side, haunted him. Had he missed something? Obi-Wan couldn't fathom why you chose to sever ties so abruptly and so completely. The bond between a Padawan and a master was meant to transcend time and distance even the Force itself.

His mind danced through potential reasons. Perhaps he had been too stern, too demanding, but he couldn't recall any unresolved conflicts or bitter disagreements. It fueled his restless pacing, so much he thought he might wear a hole in the floor. The war had claimed many, and the unpredictability of life in those times made such disappearances common. Yet, the absence of a farewell, a simple goodbye, perplexed him.

Obi-Wan stopped, staring at the transmission device on his desk. He contemplated reaching out through the Force, attempting to sense your presence, but a lingering doubt held him back. If you wished to remain hidden, he knew the Force would not easily reveal your location.

With a heavy sigh, he admitted to himself that he needed answers. The Jedi Master reluctantly accepted that, without your cooperation, he might never unravel the mystery of your departure. The internal conflict played across his features as he grappled with the uncertainty, the pain of an unanswered question tugging at his Jedi calm. ~~~

Obi-Wan flickered back into his senses, and he’d had enough, your Force signature, elusive and soft, presented a challenge to pinpoint. Yet, now seemed as opportune a moment as any to seek you out. He anticipated that the moment he reached out, you would sense it, and the possibility lingered that you might vanish as swiftly as you'd appeared. Despite the odds, he had to try.

For days, throughout his search, panic clawed at him as your signature exhibited erratic behavior—flickering, softening, going dim and occasionally blazing intensely. Unsettled, he worried about your well-being. Had something happened with your men or yourself? When news of Echo Squadron’s return came across his com, he decided on a more direct approach. The uncertainty fueled his urgency as he raced through the compound's halls, drawing closer to potential answers.

The revelations unfolded when the heavy blast doors swung open, and a chill gripped Obi-Wan's heart revealing a fractured company of clone troopers stumbling in, wearied from the throes of war.

Amidst the chaos, Obi-Wan's voice cut through the clamor, a determined command in battle's aftermath.

"You! Where is your Commander?" he bellowed to the nearest trooper. The man, a walking testament to the horrors he'd witnessed, appeared as if he had traversed through realms of death and fire. His gaze held the weight of someone who had glimpsed into the abyss, far beyond the immediate surroundings.

Obi-Wan called to the trooper, attempting to shake him from his trance, but it was evident that shock had claimed the soldier, rendering him useless for any immediate assistance. A surge of frustration gripped Obi-Wan, that familiar icy sensation taking root within him, he could stand it no more.

"Where is she?" he shouted, his voice cutting through the lingering echoes of combat. Heads turned in response, and a battle-worn trooper, fatigue etched on his face, stepped forward.

"General Kenobi," the trooper addressed him with a weary acknowledgment, capturing Obi-Wan's attention. With practiced discipline, the trooper began to relay the grim news that had been haunting his thoughts.

A surprise attack, swift and ruthless, caught the entire company off guard, unleashing chaos and claiming numerous lives. Amidst the chaos, your unwavering courage emerged as the linchpin that prevented even greater losses. The trooper, his voice tinged with awe, spoke your name with a reverence that echoed through the hushed murmurs of your fellow soldiers. Their expressions carried profound respect, acknowledging the pivotal role you played in turning the tide of the ambush.

The trooper went on to reveal a tale of resilience and determination. The men who managed to return from the battleground owed their lives to you. Your strategic prowess, coupled with an indomitable will, had become the catalyst for the survival of those under your command. The atmosphere grew heavy with gratitude and admiration as the trooper unfolded the narrative, and the unspoken bond between soldiers resonated with the unyielding spirit that defined your leadership.

“Injured?” Obi-wan breathed not wanting to believe it, “How badly?”

The trooper wore a solemn look before explaining; three. You had been hit by three blaster bolts and thrown back in an explosion that you had only barely managed to contain with your force shield, Obi-wan felt as though the breath had been punched out of his lungs. Murmurs of agreement sounded with troopers calling you a hero, and they would go into battle with you any day.

The trooper initiated the playback of the security holo, and the room was enveloped in the eerie glow of the holographic display. The flickering images revealed a chaotic battlefield, where your orange lightsaber danced in a brilliant display of skill, deflecting blaster bolts and cutting through the air. The scene, however, took a grim turn as the explosion unfolded.

The trooper's narration painted a vivid picture of your unwavering determination. Your face, illuminated by the glow of the lightsaber, displayed a fierce concentration as you called upon the Force. The protective barrier you conjured was a testament to the immense power you harnessed. Smoke, flames, and debris relentlessly assaulted the shield, crashing against it with an intensity that seemed insurmountable.

As the holographic depiction continued, the strain on your shield became evident. Each impact pushed you back, a slow and relentless retreat under the overwhelming assault. The trooper's commentary reflected the increasing tension in the room, capturing the collective breaths held by those witnessing the event. Finally, with a heart-wrenching collapse, the protective barrier gave way, and your motionless form was violently thrown backward by the force of the explosion, resembling a discarded puppet.

The disturbing imagery etched itself into the minds of those present, leaving a haunting impression of the sacrifice you had made for your comrades. The room fell silent as the holographic display faded, and the gravity of the moment lingered in the air.

“Where is she?” Obi-Wan’s voice a hoarse whisper.

The troopers exchanged puzzled glances, their expressions shifting from a state of surprise to one of guarded curiosity. Why did General Kenobi, the renowned Jedi leader, express such concern about the whereabouts of a single Jedi, especially one who hadn't reported directly to him? The very nature of Jedi loyalty was well-known, but this level of interest seemed unusual, especially considering General Kenobi had never spoken your name and had no prior connection with your company.

In the austere world of warrior monks, emotional attachments were often deemed a distraction, a sentiment echoed by the Jedi Code. The troopers, accustomed to the stoic and disciplined demeanor of their Jedi commanders, found it perplexing that General Kenobi, known for his wisdom and strategic brilliance, was showing a level of personal investment that transcended the typical chain of command.

As the trooper spoke, the realization hit Obi-Wan like a sudden gust of cold wind. The men, once indifferent, now wore expressions of awe and respect. He had been the mentor to their leader, the padawan of the legendary General Kenobi, and none of them had been aware. It was a revelation that changed the dynamics within the group.

“I apologize, General Kenobi, we didn’t know.”

Obi-Wan's confusion deepened. How was it possible that you had never spoken of your training under him? He couldn't fathom why you would erase any mention of your master, especially considering the strong bonds that typically formed between Jedi and their mentors.

“What do you mean? Has she never spoken of it?”

The trooper shook his head solemnly. His name had never left your lips. There was no connection with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and your silence regarding your master left him perplexed and troubled. What had transpired to make you erase the very existence of your training and relationship with him from your history? It was a mystery that left him with an unsettling sense of guilt and regret.

Dread settled over Obi-Wan as the clone recounted the events in the medical wing. The last remnants of the company had made it back, battered and bruised, their fallen comrades in tow. However, you were conspicuously absent, having been transported to the medical wing for intensive care due to the injuries you sustained. Without a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan set his sights on the medical facilities.

In his urgency to find you, Obi-Wan maneuvered through the bustling corridors, barely sparing a glance for those he unintentionally bumped into. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the low hum of medical machinery. The chaos within the medical wing mirrored the turmoil in Obi-Wan's mind as he scanned the rows of occupied beds and the busy healers tending to the wounded.

He sought your name among the patients but found no trace. Panic tightened its grip on him, as each unoccupied bed intensified his worry. In the organized chaos, Obi-Wan grappled with the fear that he might be too late, that he had lost you in the vast sea of casualties.

"She’s alright. She was moved out of intensive treatment yesterday; she’s recuperating in private quarters on deck five."

Obi-wan's tension eased at Ahsoka's reassurance. The weight that had settled on his shoulders lifted as he absorbed the news. Ahsoka's brief but impactful update became a lifeline, giving him direction in the chaos. Gratitude filled his eyes as he nodded, silently expressing his thanks. The urgency to find you intensified, but now armed with information, he promptly set off towards the turbo-lift, leaving Ahsoka with the unspoken promise that he would find you.

Inside the lift, the monotonous hum did little to alleviate his restlessness, in fact, it made them worse. The usually swift elevators felt unusually slow on this particular day, and he entertained the thought that taking the stairs might have been a faster option. As he impatiently waited unconsciously tapping his boot, the seconds felt like an eternity. When the doors finally opened on the desired floor, he bolted out, the urgency in his steps reflecting as he raced down the corridor. This was the most cardio he’d had in days. His eyes darted around erratically, scanning the room names, and he eventually found yours.

Adorned next to the door like a beacon, and with a mix of hope and trepidation, he pressed the call button, but only silence answered back. He pushed it again. Then again. And each time the ominous silence was his only response. Mad with anxiety he pushed to override the security lock, a move usually foreign to his respectful nature.

The door slid open, and his heart stilled, there you were on a sofa bathed in daylight from the small window close to the ceiling. Relief surged through him, but it was fleeting; his heart remained uneasy and it would until he saw some indication that you were truly alive. Striding purposefully, he crossed the room, the force signature around you echoing your weakened condition like a medical monitoring device would communicate a pulse or heartbeat.

The aftermath of battle left its gritty mark across your features—bacta patches firmly affixed your shoulder and upper arm worked to make you whole though the tendrils of bruising could be seen around the borders. The marks on your skin were like a gritty painting, telling the vivid story of explosions, blaster fire, and flying debris. Scratches added rough brushstrokes to your face, tracing the chaotic path of the battlefield. Minor burns left fiery imprints on your neck, marking close encounters with searing heat. Bruises, like somber echoes, formed a mosaic on your arms and hands, narrating the intense dance with projectile-like debris.

Despite this, you lay in peaceful repose on your side, facing him, eyes closed in sleep; an elusive serenity amidst the chaos of war. Your head was cradled in your arms, one leg casually folded beneath you while the other stretched out, a blanket loosely entwined around your legs and gathered at your waist. As he crouched down to study you, he sought the familiar essence of the padawan he remembered. The passing of thirteen years had left its mark in the longer strands of hair and the refined, soft features that shaped you into a woman, a stark departure from the Padawan he once guided. No longer bound by the apprentice title, you had evolved into a Jedi Knight—a seasoned warrior.

A close call with death, all for the sake of your men who deeply admired you, almost snuffed out your light. But, your command and growing mastery of the Force made him prouder than ever at that moment.

A subtle shift in your sleep saw a strand of your hair falling gently over your face, just over your nose each little breath lifting it slightly, It brought a smile to his face, and for the first time in days, he felt a sense of tranquility, his pulse calming in the warmth of that precious moment. The chaos of the war outside felt distant within the confines of the cozy room.

Unbeknownst to him, his hand had instinctively reached out, delicately brushing the strand of hair away from your face, inadvertently prompting you to stir in your sleep, accompanied by a soft, sleepy groan.

Wakefulness pulled you from the warm embrace of sleep and instinctively you stretched, a grimace of pain crossed your lips as you moved, prompting you to recoil slightly into a ball once more. Then your eyelashes fluttered open gradually met by crystal blue eyes, quickly filling with a storm of fatigue, confusion, and curiosity.

"Hello, young one," he uttered, his voice a gentle murmur rich with affection, and his smile extended to the corners of his eyes, creating subtle crinkles.

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, it's Obi-Wan."

Was this a dream? It didn't feel like one. You scanned the room, casting a questioning glance at your surroundings and the unfolding reality. Your expression wasn't one of pleasure upon seeing him; instead, it bore confusion and distance, as if you were looking at a stranger. He couldn't ignore the palpable sense of disconnect. Hoping for a misunderstanding, that perhaps you had maintained secrecy for a mission, he observed the passing seconds, realizing it wasn't as simple as that.

"What day is it?"

Not the question he had expected, but he was so relieved to hear your voice, that it didn’t matter.

"Primday. You've been in medical for two days, released from the intensive treatment wing just yesterday."

Thirteen years melted away, and those familiar, brilliant blue eyes, so kind and warm. Nostalgia washed over you, and you couldn't deny the yearning for the comforting presence of your former master.

However, as the waves of reminiscence subsided, the reality you'd been avoiding for thirteen years resurfaced. Obi-Wan's knowledge about your condition, coupled with his intense worry, unsettled you, you had to get away from him. Sitting up was a struggle, and as you finally managed to rise, the blanket slipped away, laying bare the toll of battle on your body—a sight that triggered anger, and concern in Obi-Wan's eyes.

A large portion of your left thigh was concealed beneath a sizable bacta patch, and the same superficial injuries that littered the rest of your body continued, it seemed no part of you had been spared, your less-than-optimal state caught him off guard.

“You should be in a bacta tank! They released you like this?” Obi-Wan was flabbergasted, the worry etched on his face evident. “Come, I’m taking you back to the medical wing.”

“Absolutely not!” Your bold assertion caught him off guard and he stopped, there had only been a handful of times where you had defied your master. You adjusted your tone to a more calm and measured cadence before adding, “The bacta tanks are at capacity, and there are far more injured than I. –I’m fine. Just scratches.”

He blinked rapidly, his concern escalating. “Scratches? These are NOT scratches.” Oblivious to your state of undress, he gestured to your leg. “You were nearly killed! I saw the holo myself!”

Feeling the weight of responsibility on your shoulders, you searched for any excuse to put more space between you and your master. Ignoring his pleas for you to stay put, you tried to stand again, driven by your stubborn nature. It wasn't until Obi-Wan physically stepped in, restraining you, that you finally came to a stop.

“You can't go back like this,” he insisted, “You're in terrible shape, you need time to recover.”

You made a final attempt to push past him, but Obi-Wan wasn't having it. A firm but considerate hand on your chest gently pushed you back, and a wave of discomfort washed over you as the dull throb of your muscles crying out caught up with your exertions. Glancing to the side table, he spotted a hypo syringe, and without hesitation, he reached for it, eager to bring an end to your pain. However, you extended your hand and vehemently shook your head, intensifying his disbelief as you refused pain medication despite the evident discomfort you were in.

“I don’t need it,” you insisted, defiantly rejecting any relief for your pain. Obi-Wan couldn't fathom your refusal, considering the severity of your injuries.

“You were hit by three blaster bolts and blown up, and you refuse pain medicine?” His voice rose unintentionally, a mix of concern and frustration evident. He shook his head in disbelief, disappointed by your seemingly stubborn choices. He set the syringe down and rose turning away from you, hands on his hips trying to make sense of you but you’d never made it easy on him.

“And you expected to make it down the hall, into the turbo life through the halls, and into the squad bay like this?” He gestured vaguely to you and huffed out a breath The internal conflict of caring for someone who refused care etched across his face and he shut his eyes in exasperation. “What am I to do with you?”

The room settled into a calm stillness, and he could feel the Force flowing gently, like a quiet river moving past him. Eager to offer support, he laid a comforting hand on your shoulder, connecting his own Force presence with yours. A tranquil hush filled the space as you both embraced the ancient practice, seeking solace for the aches and pains that lingered.

The room filled with the soothing hum of the Force, a brief moment of relief washing over you like waves tickling at your toes, easing the discomfort. The pain began to melt away, replaced by a comforting warmth. Yet, as soon as you felt his added touch, your eyes snapped open, and you jerked back abruptly cutting off both the Force connection and the physical contact. It was as if you pulled back as if the sensation burned you. Confusion widened his eyes, hurt creasing his handsome features. He lowered his head into his hands, his voice tinged with a tremor of pain as he grappled with the mystery of your sudden distance and coldness toward him.

"What have I done to you?"

His eyes closed in unbearable agony, and his head bowed forward, hair cascading over his face.

"How have I wronged you? In what way did I hurt you so profoundly that my own padawan refrains from uttering my name to her company, or anyone else? That she remains a secret, that no one knows she was mine?"

His?

An ocean of hurt filled those beautiful blue eyes as he looked up, and for the first time, he saw you gaze back at him and actually see him.

"Nothing, you did nothing. Obi-Wan I–"

Shaking your head, you reached out to him, but this time it was he who recoiled, taking several steps back, attempting to regain control over his faltering composure. Pain welled up within you, the knowledge that you tried to follow what you believed was right, what you were taught was right, and still it had caused harm.

"I must have done something to you for you to treat me this way." His voice carried a hint of indignation now. "Was I too harsh? Unjust? A cruel master? What did I do to make you harbor such hatred towards me?" Hate?

No, no, no. This was all wrong. What had you done?

"I don't hate you," You pleaded, your voice carrying the weight of regret. "I could never hate you, Obi-Wan."

"Oh? What else am I left to believe? One moment I'm watching you being knighted, the youngest of your clan, my heart swelling with pride at knowing the galaxy will never see another Jedi like you. And the next, you're just gone! No goodbye, no farewells, no communications, nothing. As if the years I trained you were of no consequence, as if the bond that follows a Padawan and Master throughout life meant nothing."

Your heart hurt, and you weren't sure which was more painful: the idea that he thought he had wronged you so much that you hated him, or the realization that you had hurt him and continued to do so.

"That's not what it was."

Your voice was meek, and you struggled to explain but it felt useless, the damage had ben done, by your hand. You had hoped to avoid this conversation, knowing there was only one inevitable outcome: the loss of your relationship with your master, forever. Yet fate seemed determined to unfold it now.

“Then what? What, padawan?”

As he closed the distance between you, your internal turmoil heightened. You clutched the blanket tighter around yourself, a feeble attempt to shield not just your body but the vulnerability you felt at that moment.

"Please, don't call me that."

You sank into the protection of the blanket, avoiding the term that carried memories of a time when things were simpler, a time you desperately wanted to distance yourself from. The weight of the past lingered in the air, leaving you exposed and uncertain about the path this conversation would take.

He seemed both confused and offended now. How could such an important name hold such bitterness for you?

“Padawan,” You flinched at hearing him speak the word in what felt like spite, each syllable caressed by his thick Coruscatnti accent.

“Look at me, padawan.” His commanding presence made it difficult to resist, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, you just couldn’t. The last threads of resistance faded when he spoke as he had whenever you were in trouble, “You will obey your Master’s command,”

Of course, you would. You always would when he called, as instinctive a reaction to you as breathing. Painfully slowly, you looked up eyes still fighting it the whole time hoping he would understand without any further explanation, but stubbornness and snark was something the Great Negotiator was famed for, and he would not be denied any longer.

As your eyes locked with his, an unexpected vulnerability washed over you, and you felt more naked than you were. It had been more than a decade since you looked into those eyes, yet the magnetic pull was just as potent now as it had been thirteen years ago. You subtly shook your head, silently pleading.

As the seconds passed, realization dawned on him. Your face, colored by shades of shame and embarrassment, betrayed the unspoken truths. The hand reaching up to your temple was the final revelation, leaving you with nothing to do but let him see.

In the jumble of thoughts racing through your interconnected minds, fragments of him surged to the forefront. His deep blue eyes, the warmth of his smile, the soft touch of his hands—all tangled memories, causing a storm within. He saw the moment you grappled with the painful truth: the man you desired could never be truly yours, shackled by the rigid Jedi code and Obi-Wan's unwavering commitment. Faced with this agony, disappearing into the void seemed like the only refuge, a self-imposed exile to shield both of you from inevitable heartache. So, when you had heard Master Yoda speaking of a mission on the other side of the galaxy, you seized the opportunity. Leaving right away? Perfect. Despite hating the choice, it felt like the only way. You’d have done anything to protect him from yourself.

He understood now, that whenever he uttered "Padawan" the word brought you pain because it was as close as you could ever be. The pain reverberated, and he, peering into your thoughts, could sense it all. As he withdrew, his eyes conveyed not disappointment but a poignant sadness, leaving a lingering ache that cut deeper than any vibroblade could.

The emptiness he left in your thoughts was unbearable. Your head sank into your hands as you whispered apologies—apologies for keeping secrets, for causing him pain, for leaving him, for unintentionally making him believe you were angry or had betrayed him with these unspoken thoughts. The weight of it all overwhelmed you, and grief started to take hold.

"You ran away, for my benefit?" the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

With a single nod, you admitted the harsh truth. And what good did it do? The heartbreak you'd been dodging finally caught up with you, but you’d given it one hell of a run.

You could hear him taking a cautious step back as if you were a dangerous threat to him, but then again, weren’t you? The impending void that would stretch between you two loomed now, and it would stretch for far longer than the span of a few years. This was exactly what you'd hoped to avoid—the door opening, him walking away, and leaving behind an emptiness that nothing could fill.

In the aftermath, you'd head back to your company, join your men, skillfully avoid their questions, and bury the sound of his name so deep it might never resurface. No more uttering it, not even in the quiet corners of your mind. The once-warm memories of your kind master guiding you in the Jedi ways would become bittersweet relics, stained by your own choices.

A profound hopelessness settled in as you rested your head against your hands, hair falling like a curtain. You braced for the tears, waiting for the sound of the doors to open and close one final time before you’d let them fall, shutting your eyes tightly to keep them in. Any second now.

However, the doors remained sealed, he was still there. Was he about to scold you? To make you feel more the foolish girl who should have had better control over her stupid emotions? Guess every wound needed a little salt, though, didn’t it? The situation seemed to only get worse and you found yourself wishing that the blast you struggled to hold back might have killed you instead, that you might be spared this pain.

His voice was almost a whisper, prompting you to glance up. "You don’t hate me?"

You shook your head vigorously, "How could I?"

Was there a chance to salvage this? In any way? You struggled to get back on your feet, your movements thwarted by a shooting persistent pain that would sooner see you fail in your attempt to reach him. And stumble you did, barely managing a few steps before you failed, but your master was right there, catching you before you could hit the ground. With his support, you managed to stand, though he still towered over you. His arm wrapped around you, a reassurance that you were safe. This shouldn't be happening, and he should have left, but he stayed. Why? Would this be it? It had to be.

Giving in to a momentary desire, you let yourself enjoy a small gesture—your fingers slipping through the back of his neck, remembering the softness of his hair. It was shorter now, and although it suited him, you couldn't help but miss the longer locks that used to invite such thoughts.

“What am I to do with you, padawan?”

His choice of words sent a shiver down your spine, but not in the way it used to. There was a strange undertone in his voice, something you hadn't heard before. You had no answers to his question, but it seemed like responses didn't much matter to him. Then, out of the blue, he stooped down and picked you up in his arms, something you'd only dared dream about.

"What're you doing?"

"Taking you to bed, where I can take you properly."

You froze. What did he say? Could he really mean what you thought he did? There had to be some misunderstanding. Your love-struck brain must be playing tricks on you. Your master wouldn't actually give in to those desires, right? Your blood raced, your heart thundered and your skin tingled as he effortlessly carried you, making your weight seem inconsequential.

The bed, though not exceptionally soft, transformed into the most comforting spot in the galaxy as he tenderly placed you upon it. Kneeling beside you the mattress dipping to accommodate him as well, he cradled your face in his hands, prompting a shaky "Wha-?" from your trembling voice.

"Stubborn girl," his words hung in the air, accompanied by that unforgettable tone, yes, it was slightly critical but there was something else to it. "You're not leaving this bed until you're fully recovered. Understand, Padawan?" Confusion swirled in your mind at hearing his command, but you managed a small nod. "You will obey your master's commands, won't you?" The authoritative tone was unfamiliar, prompting another slow nod from you. "Say it."

"Yes, Master."

"Good girl," he affirmed, drawing closer, and his lips met yours in an unexpectedly ferocious kiss.

His mouth quickly took control of yours, leaving no room for confusion about what his intentions were when he said ‘take you properly’. It felt like a tempest, threatening to engulf you, carrying you to the darkest depths but after thirteen years of wanting, and needing, the storm could do as it wanted, if he was the storm.

He smelled like blaster fire, adrenaline, smoke, and lightning—the aftermath of the battlefield sticking to him. Mingling with his scent, like the promise of rain, held traces of incense, taking you back to moments meditating in temples and deserts during your years of travel together. It was a smell that whispered safety and felt like home, a unique cologne you'd spend countless credits on. Something you wanted to drown in.

In countless dreams, you'd imagined moments where your master sought you out after hard battles, dangerous missions, or late at night, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you two. You dreamed of clandestine rendezvous with his hand covering your mouth urging you to be quiet.

Now, it wasn't just a fantasy; it was real. His lips moving against yours, licking at your lips, sucking on the tip of your own tongue, fueled by hunger as intense as that of a starving man, confirmed the reality of the moment.

During your trials, he had worn his beard and mustache, and it had long sparked your carnal curiosity about the sensations they might bring – a persistent tickle or a pleasurable burn? It turned out to be both, exquisitely and painfully so, surpassing the allure of any narcotic. The intensity of his mouth against yours was relentless, lips brushing yours before his tongue entered the equation. It delved into your mouth, leaving your usually sharp mind in a state of struggle, accompanied by shaky moans. Yet, none of it mattered. The moment he pressed himself between your legs, seizing the hem of your shirt, all rational thought vanished. Your hungry mind could only process the overwhelming realization that your master was kissing you, his tongue licking at your mouth, and he was pawing at you, undressing you like your clothes were an unforgivable offense.

His hands, leaving trails of smoldering embers, intensified the moment, but the euphoria came at a cost. When you moved to discard your shirt, a sharp pain shot through your shoulder, stealing a cry from your lips. Clutching your wound, you fought back the urge to cry.

The sudden sound shattered the enchantment, and his eyes snapped open. He pulled away abruptly, looking as if he were shocked to find himself in this situation with you. Clarity returned to his gaze, and a heavy feeling settled in your stomach as he stepped back, his features clouded with alarm, shaking his head.

"No, we can't," he uttered, releasing you abruptly. In an instant, it was over. A desperate breath escaped you as you reached out, but he vanished.

The urge to scream, cry, or tear down the walls clawed at you, but none of it could change what had just happened. Flopping back on the bed, your shoulder met the mattress with a wince. Anger pulsed through your core, fueled by both the recovering blaster wound and the missed opportunity.

He'd kissed you, and touched you, and just when the promise of something more seemed within reach, it slipped away, leaving a bitter taste of disappointment. The thought of his bare skin against yours, a tantalizing dream, now felt elusive. Despair settled in, but the sudden sound of hurried steps shattered the silence—Obi-Wan's unexpected return.

Before you could fully rise, he gently pressed you back down, his body covering you. His lips sought yours again in a softer, slower kiss, dispelling confusion but introducing a new layer of uncertainty.

He hadn’t left. "Master?" You could barely get the word out before his lips crashed into yours again, a hungry, intense kiss that made you forget about everything—the sudden exit, the unexplained return—all vanished in the heat of the moment. A sharp sting in your arm brought you back, and you pulled away with a surprised 'Ow!' Glancing down, you noticed the hypo-syringe in his hand and the red mark on your arm. "Wha-?"

He came back for another kiss, a hungry and urgent embrace that left you breathless. His tongue teased at your lips, an intrusion you found hard to be angry about. During this heated exchange, he murmured, "I'm sorry," between breathless kisses, his hand entangled in your hair, adding an electrifying thrill to the encounter.

His voice, heavy with sincerity and restraint, trailed down your neck as he continued the assault of hungry kisses. “I don’t want to hurt you,” The tingling sensation from the hypo spread through your body, replacing pain with a welcomed numbness. Now his words made sense – he had injected you with an anesthetic, he wasn’t going anywhere.

"But being gentle is not an option right now," he confessed against your skin, his lips sending shivers down your spine. "And I can't wait any longer."

And neither could you.

His presence enveloped you, a promise to soothe the ache that had haunted you. Rational thoughts and hesitations melted in the passionate exchange, leaving behind an urgent desire for his tongue to dance with yours, to savor the taste of you.

The pain became a distant murmur, overshadowed by the seductive cadence of his armor shedding away. The unmistakable sound of metal parts cascading to the floor filled the air, a harmonious unveiling that played like a haunting melody, laced with the promise of imminent closeness. Each metallic clink and rustle, orchestrated with practiced finesse, blended seamlessly with the mounting heat, composing a sensual symphony that underscored the unfolding intimacy.

"Padawan-” He sounded so full of need. “Have you waited this whole time to touch me, only to just lay there?"

No, you hadn't. Your senses snapped back into focus, and the relentless ache demanded action. Rising up with fiery determination, you seized his lip between your teeth, fingers tangled in his tousled locks. Leg wrapped around his waist, you provocatively thrust your hips into his, stirring a primal hunger. A low, appreciative groan escaped him, and the remaining shreds of restraint evaporated in the scorching intensity of the moment.

“Very good, padawan,” he whispered between searing kisses "Now, tell me what you want. Tell me every craving, every ache you've hidden from your master."

The legendary negotiator, renowned for his poise, eloquence, grace, and dignity in the heat of battle or the midst of a debate, was always portrayed as a polished and composed figure. However, the General Kenobi before you was a stark departure from that image—a persona that sensually grazed your neck with his lips, tenderly explored the curves of your breasts with his hands and moved his hips in a rhythm that ignited an intense passion. This wasn't just the great negotiator; it was the manifestation of a double life—a formidable lover hidden beneath the veneer of a respected leader.

His shorter locks proved to be the perfect handhold, their soft strands entwining with your fingers. The subtle roughness of his beard intensified the already electric atmosphere, adding an extra layer of intensity to the moment.

In the fiery dance of passion and longing, he'd always preached the power of actions over words. Guided by that intimate lesson, you eagerly set out to unravel the layers of his robes, with a gentle push, he rose back up to stand while you sat on the bed, your hands moving with a fervor fueled by desire. The belt surrendered first, dropping to the ground with a soft thud, the lightsaber noticeably absent, carefully stowed away. Urgently, the ties of his loose robe followed suit in the passionate race to undress him. The linen shirt glided away from his broad shoulders, gracefully descending to the floor, revealing the lush expanse of his bare chest. With unwavering determination, you committed every inch of your master's body to the canvas of your memory, each touch a sensual exploration of his lean, muscled skin, a sensory feast that ignited the flames of desire.

"This."

Your fingers traced the shape of his already hard length beneath the fabric of his trousers, coaxing a low moan from Obi-Wan against your neck. "Master, I want this." A firm squeeze elicited a shudder, coursing through him as you continued to tease through his clothing. "I want it in my mouth." His breath hitched, and his hips responded eagerly. Slowly untying the laces of his trousers, your hand slipped inside, embracing his him. The guttural groan that escaped him sent warmth rippling through your body. "Between my legs."

Your master's throbbing cock pulsed in your hands, radiating heat against your skin—hard and demanding. Each stroke elicited untamed pleasure, breaking through the disciplined walls the Jedi Order had meticulously built over the decades. The symphony of his responses played out in sensual notes: the quivers across his skin, the ragged gasps, and the vulnerable moans, all orchestrated by your skilled touch. Hypnotized by the power you held over him, you savored every moment, captivated by the way his body reacted to your every movement. How his hips surged forward in a hungry plea as your hand teased and retreated, and then faltered when you squeezed him with deliberate, unhurried strokes. An irresistible urge surged within you, a yearning to fulfill the fantasies that had simmered within your soul for a decade.

“Master, your padawan wants your cock.”

His hips faltered again at the sheer filth that you spoke of, the way your voice caressed such dirty thoughts, he twitched in your hand and you tried not to moan. Like a siren call you began to dip your head forward, desperate to satisfy the curiosity of how he tasted, your goal so close, a breath away from your lips when it was cruelly ripped away from you. His hand wrapped gently but assertively around your throat giving the softest squeeze that prompted you to rub your thighs together to still the full body shudder.

“My padawan will learn patience. I asked you to tell me your thoughts, not to carry them out.”

You wanted to cry, maybe he expected a submissive little padawan.

“Up, further on the bed.”

He let you go, and you followed his command, scooting back towards the middle of the bed. The intensity of his gaze made it challenging not to tremble. The sight of your master, shirtless, messy hair, swollen lips, and trousers hanging dangerously low on his hips, carried the knowledge that his hard arousal had been in your hands. Knowing you had driven him to that point made obeying his commands a fierce internal struggle. The difficulty only intensified as he knelt on the bed, crawling toward you like a predator closing in on its prey. His eyes held an unfamiliar, burning intensity, setting your own desires ablaze. How was it possible for blue eyes to burn?

His voice, low and commanding, demanded you to lie back, leaving no room for protest. The once-lacy barrier of your panties and bra felt like an unnecessary formality as he leaned over, his arms creating a delicious trap against the bed. Escape wasn't even a consideration, not that you wanted it. He peered at your shoulder, voice holding a hint of soft concern as he asked, "Are you in any pain?" With a shake of your head, A wolfish grin played on his handsome face. "Good. Though, you might when I'm done with you." Oh, stars. Denying you a proper kiss, his tongue traced the trail of desire from your lips down your jaw and neck.

“Going to have to punish you a bit for abandoning your master,”

What? He was going to punish you? Your heart threatened to burst as his lips drifted down your chest, lavishing every imperfection marring your skin with a sweep of his tongue and a caress of his hands.

Despite having command of the force all your life, the very notion that it may be used against you, that it could be unseen hands acting on Obi-Wan’s will, tearing the rest of your clothes off thrilled you. But he surprised you, it seemed he was more hands-on, the bra you wore was quickly gone and that hot mouth of his found its way to your nipples delicately teasing. Slow and purposeful swipes of his tongue coupled with the soft seal of his lips and the gentle scrape of his teeth made you arch wantonly into his waiting mouth with a whimper.

Was this what he’d meant about punishment?

He quickly answered that for you, the gentle vibrations of his moan passing through your teased nipples as he switched from one to treat the other to equal pleasure.

“Your punishment can wait though,” That eloquently talented tongue of his drew sensual circles that brought a choked sob past your lips. “First, I’m going to take care of my padawan. Make her come for me in all the ways she’s ever dreamed, so she’ll never leave me again,” Your heart skipped a beat, several in fact, “Till her body shakes and she can no longer bear not having my cock in her.”

He finally released your aching nipples moving down the soft flat expanse of your stomach tongue dipping into your navel. “My powerful,” he kissed your hip, “beautiful,” he sucked on the skin as his fingers tucked into your panties “Sensitive,” and pulled them down your legs. “Neglected,” His breath ghosted over your thigh, tossing the garment aside. “Padawan.”

Never again would the word Padawan cause you pain, never again would it represent ache and loss and missed opportunities. Your chest rose in shallow breaths and you were fairly certain you were going to have a heart attack. Your eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling before fluttering closed completely, listening to your master's voice, feeling his hot breath on your most delicate body parts. And for a few terrible moments he let you sit there feeling his breath, the occasional brush of his beard on your skin, the anticipation more horrible than a thousand lonely nights with only your fantasies and touch.

“Master.” You wished you hadn’t sounded so pitiful, so needy and pathetic but you were and you couldn’t help it. Naked on a bed with your master’s breath teasing you between your legs, you were ready to beg.

“Padawan,”

The word whispered, barely audible a fraction of eternity passed before you felt the sweetly sinful furnace of his mouth on your lips before his tongue swept past them to taste you. A shrill and sudden intake of breath shattered the stillness of the room, and your hips canted up against his mouth and you cried out in a drawn-out moan. Not in any pain but the desperate tens of thousands of lonely nights where you cried his name in your mind each time you came against your hand.

His strokes were sweet and slow and left no part of you untouched. You’re lungs seized up momentarily and your brain misfired too many impulses, the instinct to jump away upon the startling contact with his mouth warred the desire to watch him, which also struggled against the urge to seize his hair and beg him to take you right then and there.

All impulses crashed into one another with each broad stroke of his tongue against your pussy, you lay back practically panting desperately trying to remember how to breathe properly, but with every flick of his tongue saw to it that you forgot whatever it was you were trying to remember.

Your toes curled slightly in shameless pleasure when you felt his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you with the promise of sublime ecstasy to be had if he would only use his fingers. The very ones calloused from years of wielding a lightsaber now brought blistering pleasure with every touch. The sounds of his breathing intermingled with deep groans as he lapped at you like he was dying of thirst, only adding to the symphony of sex you would play over and over in your head until the end of your days.

As you lay there losing your mind in the velvet embrace of your master’s mouth, Obi-Wan was studying you, learning your pleasure through each taste, stroke, and flick of the tongue. Committing to memory how you reacted when he licked hard or sucked softly the cadence of your breathing and the buck of your hips, what drew sweet whimpers or unabashed moans. He found a rhythm, long, slow broad strokes, that made you gasp each time no matter how often he did it, you could never get used to it. Followed by the quick teasing flutter of his tongue on your clit, fingers sweeping gently along the length of your lips throwing fuel to the fire he that was beginning to rage out of control. The hot lazy hunger of his mouth was better than anything you’d ever felt and it was impossible to keep your eyes open for any length of time, it just felt so good, as if your brain was struggling to keep up with what was happening it would occasionally rapid-fire messages to you as though you were unaware of exactly what was going on.

‘Master’s mouth is between my legs.’

‘Stars! He’s licking me.’

‘He’s going to make me come!’

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the soft sound of a deep and throaty chuckle, the reverberations stole your breath and sidetracked your thoughts.

‘Yes, padawan, you will come for me. Until I grow weary of the noises you make.’

The words played out in your mind as if they came from everywhere echoing off the walls of your thoughts, but when you glanced down, Obi-Wan was focused on you. Not even a teasing expression, his eyes seemed closed in rapture as though he were enjoying an exquisite, delicacy catered to his palette only. And enjoying it thoroughly.

When not dancing teasing touches to your entrance, his hands stroked the inside of your thighs opening your legs further each time, mindful not to agitate your wounds, his touch so delicate that it made your skin tingle with sensitivity.

It was unbelievable how quickly he’d gotten you so close to cumming but then his voice in your head tell you the most wicked thoughts aided in that considerably.

Never before did you ever think such a thing would happen, your master hungrily feasting on your pussy. It had to be a dream, it was too good, any moment when you were nearly ready for the rolling torrent of orgasm to crash upon you, you would wake up and cling to the remnants of this dream while hurriedly bringing yourself to climax while muffling any sounds into your pillow.

“No, my padawan, this is no dream. I’m going to make you come for me now.”

His mouth found your clit again, giving it a series of slow licks and gentle, open-mouthed kisses before spreading your lips open giving you no reprieve from that masterful mouth of his. Then he truly went to work on you, stimulating that little bundle of nerves by flicking the tip of his tongue over and over increasing in speed until you could scarcely breathe and your body was writhing on the bed, the moans tumbling from your mouth. Your wails combined with your desperate pleas carried through the room with lick, swirl, and suckle.

Obi-wan’s voice continued calling to you whispering so many salacious things to you; that he loved how you tasted so sweet to him, “My darling, padawan, your taste is divine, so sweet.”

That your moans were what he would play in his head when he stroked himself if he couldn’t have you, “Yes, sing for me, tell me how good I’m making you feel,”

How he knew you were going to strangle his cock when he finally let you have it, “S’going to feel so good when I bury my cock in you, isn’t it? Going to strangle me, aren’t you?”

How gorgeous you looked like this for him and it was only for him, “So, beautiful all laid out for me, only for me, aren’t you?”

And for each whispered thought in your mind you moaned a ragged “Yes, master! Yes! Yes!”

This was it, he was going to kill you, this was how you would join the living Force, wildly in the throws of orgasm. You couldn’t even manage his name, barely able to utter the first syllable, voice raising in pitch, your body growing rigid as it all culminated towards an exquisite peak. It was the sound of Obi-wan’s half breath, half moan, and the demanding cadence of his order sounding in your mind rising above all other words; the command to come for him, and you did. The thick throaty satisfied moan of a man who wanted to be no other place than between your legs, reverberating through your flesh and raced up your core.

Waves of fire, hotter than any star, more molten than any lightsaber, radiated from your thoroughly stimulated pussy overtaking your body as his mouth worked you over slowly teasing out every ounce of pleasure he could, wringing it from you like water from a rag.

Repeating the word "Master" like a mantra, a symphony of desire and surrender as you writhed against him. No longer in control, you became a willing captive to the relentless pulses dictated by Obi-Wan. The euphoric journey continued an unending cascade of sensations and shared ecstasy. And it didn’t stop, like a fire it grew more and more intense, shocking you, never before had you experienced sensations like what he was giving you. You just kept coming.

Would it ever stop? The overwhelming wave of pleasure seemed boundless. It was intoxicating, almost too much. As the peak of ecstasy subsided, it left behind little electric shocks of overstimulation with each additional stroke of Obi-Wan's tongue, trying to coax out a little more. The intensity lingered, a sensation that bordered on both pleasure and sweet torment.

The sweet agony of pleasure mixed with the sting of overstimulation was a cruelty of human physiology. You wanted more, a hungry desire pushing him to give you everything. But your body rebelled, aching for a momentary escape from the relentless assault. Your hips wriggled and began to buck trying to throw him off in a wordless plea for him to ease the intensity. Yet, he pressed on, undeterred, as you grappled with the conflicting sensations, lost in the dizzying dance of pleasure and pain.

“Master! Please! No more– I-I can’t!” The way your words sounded so weak and your voice nearly broken seemed to finally reach him and he slowed to a stop, depositing one final deep kiss and drawing an unadulterated moan from you before he finally released your overworked, quivering flesh.

Your body shivered as he moved up the bed to kiss your lips. The lingering scent and taste of your orgasm clung to his mouth—a mix of sweat and satisfaction, intensified by the unique aroma coming from him. It was potent enough to make you teeter on the brink of another climax, a fortunate secret he remained unaware of.

For some reason you felt like you needed to thank him, which was ridiculous, thank him for what? For giving you the most amazing orgasm you’d ever had? It seemed a bit awkward and out of place but somehow given this new dominant side of your master, he might enjoy that.

He breathed in deeply as if savoring the aftermath of a fulfilling workout. But the look on his face spoke of more than just exertion; it was a blend of delight and contentment.

You, on the other hand, felt a bit like you'd had one too many drinks. The air seemed to swirl around you, and his disheveled hair falling over his face only added to the effect. His smile was downright criminal, it seemed almost unnatural for a man to look so good wearing nothing but a smile.

"Thank you," you mumbled, the word sounding feeble even to your own ears, but Obi-Wan's pleased expression suggested he appreciated the sentiment.

“Did you enjoy that, my little padawan?” The endearment sent a shiver down your spine, and all you could manage was a nod. As his lips met yours once more, a wave of euphoria washed over you. Soft, powerful, firm—his kisses were everything you'd hoped for, stirring desire in every part of your being, and the knowledge that he’s just used that mouth on you made your heart race and your cunt ache.

“Tell me, before I take you, how many?” The question hung between you, a mix of desire and curiosity in Obi-Wan's voice. You were a bit baffled, trying to figure out the context of his question. Orgasms? It wasn’t something you kept tabs on. Sensing your confusion, he clarified, “Men. Lovers. How many?”

An awkward lump formed in your throat as you replied, “None.”

His eyes widened, and he licked his lips. There was a momentary flicker in his expression that could almost be mistaken for anger, but his subsequent fervent return to kissing dispelled that notion. “None? How is that possible? That I am the first to ever touch you like this?”

“The first man.” He froze, his expression shifting to shock at your admission. The truth was, you couldn’t bring yourself to be with a man when the one you desired was out of reach. Women, however...

“I’ve had lovers, just not any men; I didn’t want them.”

“You’ve taken female lovers?” he asked. You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t disapprove. His grin returned, now carrying a wolfish quality, and his mouth found its way back to your breast. His kiss turned fierce, hungry—a prelude to the kind of passion that precedes throwing someone onto a bed and ravishing them. “Naughty thing,” he murmured. Relief flooded through you, quickly followed by euphoria. “Did you enjoy that? Letting other women touch you?”

"Sometimes." He appeared puzzled, and you nonchalantly shrugged, steering clear of his penetrating gaze. The notion of accepting disappointment felt like a subtle form of judgment.

"Women can be selfish lovers too." The idea of your satisfaction not being guaranteed seemed to trouble him. He shook his head slowly, 'tsking' you, as though imparting guidance on what was and wasn't acceptable.

"That won't do at all," he declared, lowering his lips to yours in a kiss that sent electric shivers down your spine. "I’m going to erase every memory of anyone who’s ever touched you." His tongue danced over your nipple again, barely tasting it and he stopped to savor your little breath. “Going to fuck you until you cry out my name, going to make sure you’re never left wanting again.” With a flick of his tongue, his hand started massaging your other breast, “Would you like that, padawan, for your master to make you feel good?”

“Yes! Please, Master! Please!”

“So respectful when you’ve had your cunt devoured, aren't you?”

Those words, oh, they hit you in all the right places. You never thought he had it in him—the raw, unfiltered sexuality. Suddenly, you weren't just yearning for his touch; you wanted to be the one to make him quiver and groan, to do to him, what he did to you. To see how your words and caresses could unravel the composed Jedi Master. It wasn't just about fulfilling your own cravings; it was about sharing a dance of passion and exploring uncharted realms of desire together.

Strength surged within you, not the physical kind, but a potent force you had at your command. Calling upon the Force was as natural as breathing, and with a graceful wave of your hand, Obi-Wan found himself unceremoniously tossed onto his back, a look of astonishment etched across his features as if captivated by an unexpected dance. Yes, you had just harnessed the Force against your master.

The sight of your master supine, his bare chest rising and falling with each breath, hair tousled in disarray, trousers precariously low on his hips, and all because you had put him there. His eyes held a mesmerizing blend of surprise and desire, mirroring the emotions flickering within yourself. Seizing the moment before he could recover, you took a daring leap and went in to lay siege.

Obi-Wan, caught off guard by your bold moves, sank into the softness of the bed. Your fingers danced through his hair and beard, jerking his head back to expose his neck, ensuring he wouldn't forget this moment. A low, appreciative purr escaped his chest, silently praising your audacity. With each kiss and playful nip, he seemed to yield to your lead, responding with soft sounds of approval.

You savored the blissful aftermath of victory, those suspended seconds lingering in the air. In that fleeting time, your senses buzzed with playful thoughts, tempting fantasies, and desires long confined. He might have allowed the moment to stretch a bit more, but then came your teasing nips, tracing the spots that made him flinch with delightful sensitivity.

“Want to taste you,” You muttered, fairly certain you hadn’t imagined that little ‘oh.’

"Padawan..." His voice, a touch hoarse, accompanied the journey of your fingers down his ribs and along his toned stomach. Moving closer to the tantalizing waistband of his trousers where your prize awaited you, the desire to feel him in your hand became almost unbearable. Yet, you found justification for a bit more teasing. Fingers dipped just inside the band of his trousers, close enough to feel him twitch and buck at your almost-touches, it was too delicious to only do once.

Perhaps you shouldn't have pushed your luck.

Because, like the fabric of Jedi robes, his patience wore thin. It was then that your Master's restraint snapped, like a stretched cord finally giving way.

In an instant, he grabbed your waist, executing a swift and aggressive flip that left him looming above you, pinning you down on the bed. His body pressed into yours, and a sly grin hinted that the game was about to get a lot more daring. The air hummed with anticipation as he shook his head, capturing your mouth in a kiss that left you breathless.

"What were you thinking, Padawan?" His voice, low and husky, carried a thick layer of desire, each word steeped in need. His intense gaze locked onto yours, silently questioning.

"Touching your master without permission?"

Stunned. You struggled to form a response, your lips moved, and no words broke free. Was he serious? After the intoxicating dance of his mouth had just brought you to an unparalleled climax, he expected you to ask permission to touch him? It felt absurd.

Questions raced through your mind. Was this some kind of test? A dominance play? Your stomach dropped. Maybe this was the punishment he’d spoken of, an exercise in humility? Searching his cerulean eyes for a hint of jest, the intense atmosphere from before remained, now layered with a different kind of tension. He simply shook his head slightly. The weight of his expectation hung in the room, leaving you torn between the impulse to surrender and the desire to meet his challenge with your own fiery response.

"Yes, I do. I expect my padawan to remain obedient and respectful, no matter how she hungers."

His fingers lingered just above your cheek, a subtle reminder of his ability to pluck your thoughts effortlessly, like plucking a flower from the grass. However, you had long since outgrown the status of a padawan, having ascended to the rank of Jedi Knight. If he expected pleading or begging, he was in for disappointment. A steely determination cast a shadow across your features. With narrowed eyes, you threw down a challenge. If he sought access to your mind, you were prepared to offer more than he had bargained for.

A coy smile danced on your lips, causing his own smile to falter ever so slightly. That mischievous glint in your eyes was a familiar precursor to something daring, and you had no intention of disappointing your master in this unexplored realm. Shutting your eyes, you tilted your head, letting his fingers brush against your face, shifting the battleground from the physical to the unseen.

Instead of engaging him through physical means, you chose to confront him on the mental plane, projecting your thoughts with an intensity that demanded attention. He took a sharp breath, caught off guard by the rush of images, thoughts, and sounds hitting him like a brisk breeze. The unexpected depth of your mental communication briefly disrupted the seamless flow of the physical connection.

This wasn't just a subtle act of rebellion; it was a declaration that you were no longer the Padawan he once trained. As a Jedi Knight, you wielded more than just a lightsaber—you possessed a will of your own, armed with a bag of tricks beyond anyone's expectations.

Though he could still address you as Padawan to elicit a reaction, you were so much more. Long-concealed thoughts, years hidden in secrecy, surged forth, intertwining with stolen glances and intimate moments—all now laid bare before Obi-Wan.

A mosaic of self-indulgent pleasures unfolded—whispered calls of his name amid moments of personal bliss. Stolen encounters, and lingering desires, all painted a picture of your yearning. The once-private fantasies, meant for the sanctuary of your thoughts, now exposed—a checklist of desires you had secretly harbored for him.

Breathless, he found himself caught in the private corners of your mind, imagined scenes unfolded, that saw you in a passionate dance, bodies entwined, covered in sweat, exploring countless positions. An insatiable hunger for him, even if he lay prone and exhausted, pleading with him for more.

The many ways you wanted to touch him, to pleasure him, and hear him echo your name as you had cried his— to render him powerless and explore his body until he succumbed to climax after climax and could give no more.

He shivered with excitement, lost in the fantasy of the intense bliss you painted in his mind. Those throaty moans of pleasure felt so real, almost like he could taste them. Surprised by the raw intensity of your craving to taste him and drink him, he moaned your name in the tangled passion, every drop of his essence landing on your eager tongue as he lay back lost of the haze of sex and stimulation.

It wasn't merely about satisfying him; your desire surpassed that. There was an unquenchable hunger for him to seize control, to witness him unrestrained and consumed by passion and dominance. Whether he threw you onto the bed or pressed you against the wall, positions that brought a delightful twinge of discomfort on your end, all aimed at bringing him ecstasy, standing unassisted became an impossible task. The profound intensity of your yearning unfurled like a revelation, taking him by surprise.

The cat was out of the bag; the secret lay bare. Now, with an untamed glint in his eyes, it seemed you might have ventured into territory beyond your expectations.

"Padawan, my sweet, sinful, Padawan," His lips dipped to your ear, and the warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I should enlighten you with some of MY thoughts."

Composure became a fleeting notion as he placed his hand firmly on your temple and a rush of sensations overwhelmed you, powerful enough that the right touch might send you into another blinding climax, akin to a torrent of whitewater tossing a stick of dry driftwood.

His unfiltered thoughts surged into your mind, a river of forbidden fantasies and suppressed desires. In the shared space of his consciousness, visions unfurled like an intimate tapestry—a clandestine gallery of how he yearned for you, each scene a seductive exploration of passion.

In one vivid fantasy more powerful than your own, you found yourself pressed against the cold metal of a ship's wall, arms held captive overhead by an unseen force naked while he still wore his full robes. Your leg draped over his shoulder, he knelt before you, entirely at the mercy of his desires, and he had none. He skillfully coaxed orgasm after orgasm from your quivering form, every touch and caress hearing you cry out and wail his name until you were hoarse. Overwhelmed by the sensations, until you were rendered speechless, too weak to utter the word "Master" as pleasure consumed your senses.

Then the landscape shifted with your master now behind you, his hands exploring your body with practiced skill. Fingers danced between your legs, teasing your aching clit, perfectly synchronized with the slow, deliberate thrusts of his hips. In the shared intimacy, he praised you, “Such a good girl” and admiring your patience in holding back on coming until he granted permission. His voice, a velvety whisper, encouraged you to hang on, promising to reward your patience but only after he had cum inside you, again.

“You think your desires are greater and darker than my own? So innocent of you…”

His words hit you like a revelation, unraveling a new side of Obi-Wan Kenobi that forever changed the way you saw him.

Another shift of vision saw you in the High Council Chamber, he sat naked in his seat, his strong thighs spread wide, and there you knelt before him. His hand gripped your hair, guiding his cock down your throat, and you obediently swallowed it all. With a gritty grunt, he demanded you not waste a drop, telling you to swallow all of it, praising your beauty as you served your master on your knees.

Your body pulsed and throbbed with each vision he gave you until the sights, sounds, and sensations grew so powerful all it took was the gentle stroke of his fingers between your legs to set you off. You threw your head back into the bed and moaned as the strength of your orgasm was amplified by your connection to your master as his most private thoughts continued playing in your head.

As he let you go, the fantasies slowly faded, and you found yourself returning to the tangible present. It was like your vision was coming back to focus, bit by bit, from the edges to the center. The room's immediate surroundings started to replace the lingering echoes of those intense daydreams.

In that moment, it was clear—he had won. The sly grin on his face revealed a man who knew he was about to get what he wanted. It was the look of someone who had conquered and was eagerly anticipating claiming their prize.

“Tell me, Padawan, are you ready to ask your master if you can touch him?”

But there you were, a flicker of fight still dancing in your eyes. Trying to push against him to sit up, that burning desire to kiss him ignited, fueled by a longing to make him yearn for you. You wanted to kindle the flames of passion until he begged for your touch. Yet, your Master had other plans. Suddenly your body refused to cooperate, stubbornly resisting your every attempt. Even the simplest tasks, like wiggling your toes, proved to be impossible.

As your efforts were thwarted, Obi-Wan's grin grew, taking on a dark intensity. His stormy eyes promised something profound, something that transcended the physical. His gaze seemed to revel in the power he held over your immobilized form, piercing through the struggle within.

“Use the Force on your master to tease him, will you? Let us see how you like it?” His lips ghosted over your breast, barely warming your nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. “You will ask permission, Padawan. I can wait.” His mouth enclosed over the hard bud lazily stroking, teeth occasionally grazing as your pathetic little whimpers danced in the air.

He seemed perfectly content in his torturous teasing, but he had to be aching himself. Had to want to fuck you as badly as you wanted him to fuck you. This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair!

"Life is never fair, padawan," he murmured, as if reading the turmoil in your mind. "I had a very different plan for you until you chose to utilize the Force on your master. Now, you'll beg for the privilege to touch me."

His words sent shivers down your spine, and as he continued his fervent exploration, his hands tracing paths on your body that bordered on pain due to the lingering sensitivity from previous climaxes, you couldn't fathom how he remained so composed. The dichotomy of your desperation and his controlled demeanor only added to the maddening allure of the moment.

“You have no idea how much I want to sink my cock into this tight, perfect cunt,” His fingers grazed your lips and you were powerless to stop him, you could barely tremble at his touch. “How badly I want to feel you squeeze my cock, but I’ve not achieved the rank of master without considerable discipline.”

He returned to your breast sucking harder, as his fingers employed a more delicate touch between your legs, which you were powerless to close, soft, sweet strokes on your thighs, and your lips but cruelly or mercifully avoiding your clit. Your lips trembled at the delicate touch, and in that moment, the unfairness of it all struck you like a tidal wave.

For years, he had been your mentor, teaching you the art of patience and urging you to play the long game. "Be patient," he would say, "gauge your opponent."

But in the whirlwind of your desires, the very lessons he drilled into you seemed to crumble. Impatience surged, a desperate yearning for instant gratification that clashed with the wise teachings of your master. He offered to fulfill your every desire, promising pleasures beyond imagination. Yet, in your haste to assert newfound power, eager to prove you were more than just his padawan, you discovered there were still lessons for him to teach, more wisdom to share.

Your urgency led to a clash of power dynamics, revealing your master still held the upper hand. A soft sob of frustration escaped, breaking his focused demeanor. His once passionate cerulean eyes now held a glimmer of concern and curiosity as he paused.

"Say the words, padawan," His voice entreated gently, a soft call laced with a plea that tugged at the strings of your stubborn pride. You might have resisted longer if not for the unsaid words that reverberated in the echoes of your mind. "Padawan, please!"

Your eyes shot open, scanning the room for any hint that the desperation in Obi-Wan Kenobi's gaze was just a figment of your imagination. Yet, there it was—a pleading look that intertwined compassion and desire in a delicate dance across his face.

At that moment, it dawned on you: you had won. The silent struggle between you and your former master, the unspoken battle of wills, had reached its conclusion. The walls you'd built around your emotions had crumbled in the face of that unspoken plea. It wasn't about conquest; it was a surrender, and the victory was yours.

You might be the first to say the words but he was the first to beg.

"Please, Master," Your voice, a sweet melody of desire, reached into the core of his being. His gaze narrowed, and he froze, the invisible bonds around you weakening, his resistance giving way. "Let me touch you, Master," You pleaded sweetly, your words dripping with need. "I want you," You added, turning up the heat until the bonds snapped completely. “Let me taste you, let me have you.”

With their release, he was on your lips again, kissing you with a desperate hunger, untamed and wild. Yet, despite your newfound freedom, you lay still beneath him, a silent presence he couldn't resist.

"Padawan! Are you going to touch me or not?"

His outrage was amusing. A playful grin toyed with the corners of your lips, hinting at your delight.

Feigning innocence, you shot back, "You haven’t given me permission to touch you."

His eyes widened in surprise, a jolt of anticipation coursing through him as a deep, appreciative groan escaped him, acknowledging your skillful play as his Padawan.

"Darling, please, touch your master,"

With a surge of passion, you seized the moment, fingers seizing his hair with purpose, jerking hard enough that he cried out, a pull that danced on the edge of sweet pain.

Defying the limits of control, you launched a fervent attack on his lips, reclaiming the kiss with an intensity that screamed desire. Your tongue demanded entry, a forceful and unapologetic dive into the depths of his mouth. A low grunt slipped from him, a mix of surprise and a hint of surrender, adding fuel to the blaze sparking between you. The dance of your intertwined tongues became a symphony of passion, a primal declaration signaling the end of any lingering boundaries.

Your hips rolled into a painfully hard erection, and any trace of Obi-Wan's usual witty banter vanished into the charged air. The playful banter was replaced by a more primal language.

Pushing him onto his back was effortless now; he offered no resistance. Finally. The tension that had once held him captive had melted away into bliss. His half-lidded eyes, lost in a dreamy state, promised memories that would keep you warm for days to come.

With deliberate intent, you explored every inch of his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. His deep breathing echoed in the room, accompanied by the subtle sounds of contentment that escaped his lips. As your journey continued downward, tracing the path of pleasure, you encountered the nearly pained expression that adorned his face. His chest heaved with anticipation as you approached his trousers, the memory of how close you had been to having him earlier playing in your mind. A grin danced on your lips, fueled by the sharp gasps escaping him, as you mouthed his cock through the fabric.

You couldn't wait to have him, the urgency taking over. The waistband tugged down in a hurry, your mouth watering in anticipation. Your hand wrapped around him, and he stuttered at the touch. His cock, just as perfect as you'd imagined—long, thick, and undeniably eager to be touched—and positively leaking. It felt like the room might collapse when your tongue licked at the pearlescent precum gathering from his weeping cock, you swept around his swollen head, savoring every delicious drop. His hands shook, gripping the bed in an immediate white-knuckled hold. As you kissed it and slowly swallowed the crown of his cock, he howled in ecstasy. The salty taste of him filled your mouth and he wept at the exquisite, wet heat. Jolting with every swirl of your tongue, each lick, and suckle, the delightful vibrations echoing from the back of your throat to his cock.

“Yes!”

His body arched, his signature flickering wildly, and then you truly went to work on him. Wanting to show him exactly how much you had thought of this moment. With each eager motion, you took more of him, brushing off the impending jaw ache. Your master was sprawled on your bed, fervently chanting your name, but coherent words were out of reach. He tasted just perfect, filling your mouth just right. You traced the veins on his cock like an old familiar map, committing every detail to memory. As you slid over his head sucking gently like one would enjoy a sweet treat, his hips surged, and he let out another wild moan of pleasure.

“Padawan! Padwan! Padawan!”

But you had more, oh so much more to give him, but you wouldn’t tease him as he had you, you gripped firmly what you couldn’t swallow, and aided by the slickness of your own saliva you stroked and twisted his length in your hand. And your other hand? It didn’t sit idle, no, it reached into his trousers to offer gentle almost tickling caresses to his neglected balls. Lesireuly massaging and softly squeezing. Surely, someone must have heard the moan that tore from his chest, it was primal and almost powerful enough to make you come again.

The flood of sensations overwhelmed him, a storm of desire and vulnerability that left him at a loss for words. Normally eloquent, his tongue now stumbled in this unfamiliar territory. His disciplined mind, usually a stronghold of wisdom, faltered under the onslaught of passion. Every muscle rebelled against his rational commands, caught in a moment of indecision the muscles of his stomach flexed and contracted wildly. The composed master was briefly overshadowed by raw, primal forces, his tense muscles reflecting the battle of a man surrendering control to overwhelming desire. He became a disheveled mess, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and then tightly shut, breath hitching in short, irregular gasps as if he kept forgetting how to breathe smoothly. His lips clumsily grazed the edge of words, catching and then losing them amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

“Oh! Maker!”

Oh, another word? Impressive. His disciplined nature must be paying off. Using the last bit of strength he had, he propped himself up on his elbows, determined not to miss the spectacle. There you were, between his legs, your lips wrapped around his cock, all slick with your saliva, disappearing into your mouth. It hit the back of your throat in a way that made him shudder from head to toe. He could watch you do that for as long as the stars lit up the sky. It was something else—beautiful, the way you handled his cock like his pleasure belonged to you.

You were determined to extract every ounce of pleasure from him, poised to take him to the brink, so close to tasting him completely, but your mission hit a pause when his hand gently grasped your jaw, urging you to meet his gaze. His needy “Please,” didn’t go unnoticed either. A slender strand of saliva linked your lips to his throbbing length, and the disbelief in his eyes was palpable. It was as if he couldn't fathom witnessing what lay before him. A ragged breath escaped him, followed by a hard swallow. Redirecting your attention from his pulsating, slick arousal, he steered you into a deep, passionate kiss, one you didn't resist.

“Darling, enough foreplay. I need to feel you on my cock. Tell me that’s what you want.”

His eyes sparkled when you whispered, "I want it, Master," with desire glowing in your own. It made you wonder if anyone had ever been so upfront with him, if anyone had looked into those captivating eyes and just said, "I want you." Had he ever known how it felt to be so openly desired before?

"Good girl, now, up you get."

He effortlessly lifted you onto his lap, surprising you even more because he didn't employ the Force; it was the strength of his own muscles at play. Observing them flex and shift beneath his skin was nearly as gratifying as witnessing him in the throes of pleasure. He held you over his lap for a moment, lips tangling with yours, muttering against them.

“Look at me, want to see you properly.”

How could you ignore a request like that? Oh, no, you couldn’t. And with a nod from you, he began to release you.

Never had anything felt as exquisite as the moment his cock slid effortlessly into your pussy. The sensation of that satisfying first stretch surpassed any pleasure you had ever known—far superior to the touch of your own fingers, toys, or any previous lover. As gravity took its course, guiding you down onto him, there was nothing left to say or do. Your head rolled back and you moaned his name. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, every ounce of strength dedicated to maintaining control. Surprisingly, his energy remained entirely serene.

The experience was a symphony of wetness, heat, tightness, and perfect slickness. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close, mirroring the way you squeezed his cock. It was perfect. You would ache for this later, he was right, you’d be sore to the touch everywhere he’d touched you but it would be worth it for the exquisite ecstasy you felt right now.

Damn the code, to hell with forbidden attachments; the High Council could go up in flames for all you cared. In this moment, he belonged to you—every inch of him. His response to your body defied description. He was unequivocally yours.

He uttered your name, his mouth tracing up your neck in search of your lips. "Darling, kiss me."

Not padawan, not master. He called you by your name.

Your lips met his, as he’d asked, sweetly, gently as lovers did. The high of shoving your tongue into hi mouth was wonderful but not so wonderful as this simple brushing of lips the added heat and girth of his cock buried in you, there were no more barriers. You kissed him like that for a few minutes until your cunt throbbed demanding more, then you shifted, rising up savoring the way his lips parted in shock before sliding back down slow enough you could see his eyelashes flutter. “Again,” His voice was so full of need and heat, how could you deny him? The warmth of his breath against your skin was like a balm, soothing every ache, alleviating every burden, and imparting tranquility to long-standing wounds.

As his arms encircled your legs, lifting you up to help you along, a surge of emotions overwhelmed you. The dichotomy of wanting to sing or cry left you unable to suppress the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His name escaped your lips again.

His arms held you securely, and he buried his face in your neck, releasing a deeply contented breath. With deliberate slowness, he began to thrust upward. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him up for another smoldering kiss, swallowing his moan.

Passion surged like wildfire between you and the man you had yearned for over the years. The connection between your bodies was intense, each thrust an urgent proclamation of desire. The air was thick with the mingling of hot breaths, punctuated by the sound of lewdly slapping skin and fervent kisses exchanged in the throes of lust.

His movements were powerful and rhythmic, and left you gasping for more, all you could do was hang on. With every thrust, he hit that perfect angle that sent shivers through your entire body. The sensation was electric, a tantalizing dance on the precipice of pleasure.

As your breaths intertwined, the shared rhythm hinted at the imminent climax, drawing you both closer to the edge.

In the throes of passion, your murmurs of his name reverberated against his lips as he quickened the pace, both of you on the precipice of an imminent release. The urgency in your voice only fueled his desire, and he nodded in approval as you moaned:

"Obi-Wan…"

Encouraged by your compliance, he implored you for more, his hunger evident. "Again, darling, say it again!"

In a cascade of breathless utterances, you willingly complied, chanting his name with increasing fervor.

"Obi-wan! Obi-wan! Obi-wan!"

With a fluid blend of strength, grace, and skill, he effortlessly tipped you onto your back. The swift change momentarily took you by surprise, but before the disorientation settled, he surged back into you with newfound intensity. Each movement reached deeper, and he committed his entire weight to each forceful thrust, immersing both of you in a realm of heightened pleasure.

His frame shook with each thrust, and with every motion, he felt a piece of himself slipping away, lost in the fervor of the moment. Desperation marked his every move as he teetered on the precipice of oblivion, but determined to hold off just a little longer. The urgency in his actions spoke of a desire to witness you unraveling in the throes of pleasure, to experience the cascade of ecstasy like a tidal wave crashing over him.

His fingers laced with yours, holding a connection that transcended the physical, while his kisses conveyed a hunger that mirrored the intensity of the act. Amid groans and the forceful snap of his hips, he dropped his lips to your ear, breathing hot against your skin.

"Come, darling, come for me!" He moved with an increasingly wild and intense rhythm, his passion reaching new heights. The affectionate term "Padawan" slipped from his lips like a whispered plea, an irresistible command, urging you to surrender to the pleasure he was offering, to climax for your master.

And you did, your body arching in response to the unrelenting intensity, hips bucking wildly against his, meeting his every thrust. Lips locked with his, you welcomed the furious pace he set each time he bottomed out, your bodies entwined in a dance without inhibitions. He threw his weight behind every motion, determined to make you feel every bit of him, to give you everything he had.

His desperate cries of "Padawan!" grew louder in the heated air, a mantra underscoring the intimacy of the moment. The repetition of the endearing term only served to heighten the exquisite pleasure, acknowledging a connection that surpassed the physical act. As he reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, a shudder ran through his entire body, and a helplessly primal howl escaped his lips. The heat of his seed spilling deep within you was the final catalyst, triggering a powerful climax of your own that rocked your entire body.

The Obi-Wan Kenobi you knew, with all his composure and eloquence, had vanished into thin air. In his place was a man, wild and satisfied, fucking you senseless, thrusting his erupting cock hurriedly back into your cunt as though he might die if he stopped. It just kept coming, he thrust harder with each rope you pulled from him until his body had nothing left to give and he began to still after one final hard thrust.

His breaths slowed, and he fought to stay upright. The only thing keeping him from melting into the mattress and pulling you into him entirely was the awareness of your injuries. Thankfully, the pain that had plagued you earlier had quieted down during your passionate love-making, granting a brief moment of relief. His cerulean eyes shifted from the storm of passion to their usual cool and compassionate state. The aftermath unfolded a scene of vulnerability—echoes of shared passion and lingering concerns for your well-being.

He wrapped his arm around you, drawing you close, and skillfully rolled both of you onto your sides. With his arm firmly around your waist, he stayed seated, still in your warmth, unwilling to leave it just yet.

In the ensuing silence, the room was filled only with the sounds of your shared and labored breathing.

"Are you alright?" His voice returned to its soft and warm timbre, the familiar hum that felt like a safe, warm home. When you remained silent, he shifted slightly, concern lacing his words, "Darling, is your leg in any pain?" Despite his own exhaustion, his concern for your well-being was touching. The way he called you darling further added to your sated state, and it made you smile.

"What leg?"

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, a comforting warmth you hadn't felt in ages. Shifting to a more serious tone, he inquired again about your injuries, but the light-hearted demeanor lingered.

"I don’t care. Ask me in the morning," You replied unbothered, arms wrapping around his neck. Nestling into the comforting warmth of his chest, you threw a leg around his hips, pulling him closer. His gasp of pleasure, maybe mixed with a hint of overstimulation, brought a satisfied smile to your face, ignoring the subtle throb echoing through your body. It was worth it—the pains, the frustrations—just to lie in your master's arms, his cock still buried in you basking in warmth, safety, and a newfound satisfaction.

"Mmm, Master?" You murmured, your voice laced with the weight of drowsiness.

He chuckled bashfully, "Darling, you don't have to call me Master, anymore."

"Just trying to be an obedient padawan," you teased, planting a kiss on the sensitive spot on his neck, earning a delightful twitch from his cock.

"Careful, darling. I still owe you a punishment for abandoning me," He playfully reminded, his words hanging in the air. "What was your question?"

"If I abandon you again, and you happened to find me. Would you follow through with your 'punishment' against the wall on a ship?"

The recollection of that fantasy, coupled with the echo of his playful threat, coaxed a deep groan from him, as both of you relived those shared fantasies. "Please, Master?" You breathed against his neck, your request underscored by a subtle roll of your hips.

His arm wrapped possessively around you, the warmth of his breath tingling against your ear. A soft growl slipped past his lips, melding with the restrained rhythm of his hips, you could feel him driving into you once more wringing out a moan from your lips. His voice, tinged with both amusement and authority, whispered,

"It seems my Padawan still needs a bit of instruction."

Why, yes, there's more...

~~~

If you would like to see more stuff like this (reader inserts) let me know and let me know if you'd like to join the tag list! For my faithful Obi-Wan content readers! @split-spectrum (you helped inspire this!), @heyhawtdawgs. @pickleprickle

Alright! I need a cigarette!

#fanfiction is life #i have too many stories #star wars #obiwan kenobi smut #general kenobi #obiwan x reader #obi wan x reader #reader insert #x reader #obi-wan x you #sweet smut #master x padawan #master kink #Dom obi-wan #master kenobi #clone wars #needy obi-wan #wounded reader #all the smut

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year

Text

Witchview

Fandom: MCU

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x witch!reader, Agatha Harkness

Word Count: trimmed right down to 1,300 exactly to fit the challenge (see below)

Summary: You wanted out before, but now you were compromised as the bait in your own trap and were becoming desperate for freedom. As he had said famously, the price of freedom was high. Desperation was dangerous. Desperation was fed by hope. Desperation erased the limits of reasonability. You had crossed lines, and you wouldn’t stop now.

Content Warnings: sexual situations (p in v), magic, sorcery, trickery…

Additional Notes: Written for the Friday the 13th challenge hosted by @boxofbonesfic. This one lives in the shadows rather than straight up dark… Another one or two hundred words I may have gotten it darker, but here we are.

A/N 2: Steve returned the stones and came back, because...that's what he did. Literally why would he have done anything else?

Foreheads pressed together, he thrust into you again and again, the yearning engulfing both of you. He held himself over you, leaning on his forearms as if to cage you in, not knowing he was the one moving further into your elaborate trap.

“How can you feel so perfect beneath me?” he asked, reverent as a prayer.

Your heart burned, but you didn’t know what to say – you didn’t want to lie, but you were also unable to form coherent thoughts as you barreled towards your release – and you could not spare any focus elsewhere or risk breaking the spell. So instead, you tilted your head up and sought his lips again for a kiss.

He shifted his hips, hitting your sweet spot, and with a few more strokes, you shuddered and gasped, your orgasm rolling over you. With the clenching of your walls, he reached the peak of his own pleasure right after, and he came with a groan, spilling inside you.

He rolled off and to his side, pulling you into his chest, and you let yourself become wrapped up in him as your breaths mingled together and you came down from your highs.

He smiled then kissed you softly.

When he pulled back again to look at you, you concentrated everything on being in this moment. Nothing could be amiss as his blue eyes discerned almost everything.

“I’m so glad I found you,” he said.

It was you who found him, but he still needed to believe for this scene.

“I love you, Steve Rogers.”

“I love you, too.”

You brought your hand up to thread your fingers through his hair and then cup his cheek tenderly. “Sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He hummed and dropped off, drifting out of consciousness. You spent a few more moments whispering into his ear, planting more sentiments of devotion you needed him to absorb.

You lurched awake, pulling yourself from the dreamscape. It was taxing to project, and your lungs gulped in fresh air.

With your return, the thirteen candles around you had extinguished immediately. You sat up and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes, furiously wiping away traitorous tears that had appeared, glad for the dimness in the chamber so your companion could not see.

This would soon come to an end. You needed it to be over. You never wanted to be this invested. He was supposed to be a mark, you drawing him in, not the other way around.

And you needed him to come to you.

To Westview.

The town had been your temporary home before the other two witches appeared and shattered it.

The chaos magic that drew Agatha to Westview was something you’d also felt immediately and wanted to flee, but the boundaries set up by Wanda – one of the first elements of the enchantment – meant you were trapped in the anomaly before you could realize you needed to escape.

Unlike the rest of the citizens, you knew.

You didn’t know everything, but your own magic kept you immune from the hypnotic spell. You knew enough to play along, bide your time, figure out what you needed to when you needed to. Agnes-then-Agatha inserted herself, and you observed, gleaned what you could, kept your head down. You let them play things out.

Once Wanda was gone, you wished to be, too.

As Agatha was trapped, you were, too.

The other citizens had been freed from the anomaly and their lives had returned to normal, but Wanda had bound magic folk to this town, inadvertently caging you in as well, unaware of the unrevealed witch in hiding.

As much as you avoided awakening Agatha from her Nosy Neighbor punishment, you came to terms quickly that you would need another witch to unravel the magical cage and escape.

It had been a feat to get her out, but together you had been able to break the restrictions of the runes and use your magic freely again. The runes had been cast hastily and while Wanda was engaged in battle with Agatha, her focus split.

However, she’d been able to create the magical cage to bind witches to the town without any distraction, and it seemed short of the Sorcerer Supreme or the Scarlett Witch herself, you may never be able to break the enchantment and get out.

You and Agatha had determined you would need someone who – despite and in many ways because of his goodness – would make the world burn for those who mattered most to them.

He may have passed on his shield to someone else, but Steve Rogers would never be able to ignore his heart, and the aim was that he would become an unstoppable force on his quest to set you free. The chances of convincing the powers you needed on the outside to come to your aid were nonexistent otherwise.

With care you had crafted the thirteen candles to commune with the soul of another.

Used individually or only in small groups, they were relatively safe. Burning all at once, thirteen communion candles were incredibly powerful and increasingly dangerous the longer they burned, and you were burning them together and nearly to the end of their wicks to achieve an illusion strong enough to enchant the super soldier. Thirteen candles could simulate reality. But they also could attract demons, ghouls, and spirits, requiring you and Agatha to continue working together – her standing watch while you went under.

You knew she was studying you now.

“Remember, he’s a means to an end.”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, unflinching. “It takes a lot to invest in making the illusion real with someone like him.”

She arched her brows. “I’m not judging you if you’re falling for him.”

You sighed. “He’s intoxicating.”

“Don’t get distracted and mess up. I know you don’t care about trapping me here, but if I’m stuck, so are you, which means no reality with Prince Charming.”

“I know.”

“The candles only burn for thirteen hours, and-“

“I know, Agatha!”

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“I know.”

Agatha sighed, then stepped closer and briefly touched your shoulder. “I know you do.”

This trust between you was only temporary, but it was something for now, and the small gesture helped to rebuild your focus.

You laid back down. “I’m ready.”

“You’re sure?”

“We’re limited on time with him, too.”

One night. You’d projected yourself into his dreams twelve times in one night, creating scenes, memories, a relationship that needed to be undeniable because now you weren’t going to visit him in a dream. For your thirteenth and final visit, you were going to project to him in his waking state, and either succeed or fail.

“Light the candles.”

You closed your eyes and began your own incantation while she repeated hers to ignite the flames and fortify the protection spells.

You stood at the counter, watching the soft morning light begin to illuminate the branches outside the window, waiting for him.

Soon enough, you heard his footsteps coming down the hallway, and then he entered the kitchen behind you. You turned toward him and smiled – it wasn’t forced or fake because that’s just what he elicited from you now. He returned it, but maybe not for much longer.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he greeted, reaching for you, but his face faltered as his fingers failed to find purchase.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s not real,” you started. He would believe you either way – you knew that from everything you had studied about him beforehand, and all your manipulations tonight only confirmed that – but what you didn’t know was if that belief would feel betrayed or be driven to devotion.

“What?”

“This isn’t real,” you reiterated, “but it can be.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#mcu #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #spooky #steve rogers x yn #agatha harkness #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #witchy reader #steve rogers x witch!reader #dark reader #aspen wrote something #female reader

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alieinthemorning · 4 months

Text

In Your Eyes Reflected Mine [Childe | Tartaglia | Ajax]

Content: First Meetings, The Abyss, Pre-Chapter 1: Act I: Of The Land Amidst Monoliths, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

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This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

He never thought that in this lifetime, he would meet someone with eyes like his. As dark as the depths of the oceans, with no hopes of light ever penetrating it.

He just wasn’t expecting to see it in you.

That experience, three months that were a mere three days in Teyvat, changed him. From that shell of a shriveling child to a dog of war just days after he emerged from the Abyss. But, the Tsarista didn't give him the title of Childe for no reason, he had to keep up the boyish charms. Even if there was a beast lurking beneath the surface.

Ah, how amusing.

You, however, were quiet and to yourself. You were skittish around other people, and after doing a bit of…reconnaissance, he learned that you didn’t leave your house for days at a time.

Since that was the case, he decided to approach you directly,

“Excuse me.” He tapped your shoulder, holding back a smirk as you harshly jolted.

He had to admit, you were significantly more beautiful up close.

“Oh.” You frowned, outright glaring at him. “How can you smile?”

Ah, I guess not everyone was so lucky, but Archons did that one question fueled his curiosity more. He simply raised his brow at you.

You sighed, annoyed. “I was pushed into the depths, was stuck down there for three months, and when I returned I was cast out from my village who thought that shouldn’t exist. I was only thirteen.”

He nodded, “But you were only gone for three days, why—”

“No.” You cut him off sharply. “I was gone for three years Teyvat time."

He raised a brow, noting how your eyes flickered to the crowd around you before returning back to him. “And were you alone?”

Your frown deepened, “What do you mean? Of course, I was.”

Oh.

He wasn’t expecting you to be so different from him.

He needed to find out more.

“How about we talk more about this over dinner? My treat, of course!”

You looked like you were going to outright decline him, but you paused.

“I refuse to sit in a restaurant, so you’ll have to order it to-go. Make sure you’re not seen, I don’t want the Millelith knocking at my door for colluding with a Fauti Harbinger.” And with that you made your exit, quickly blending into the crowd.

Now it was his turn to frown.

How the hell had you known he had been following you?

He felt his lips twisting into a smirk.

"Things are finally going to get interesting around here.”

I should revisit this two at some point...

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

#alie ficets #alie ficlets: version 2.0 update #genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartagalia x reader

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a-local-idiots-shitpost · 6 months

Text

What´s your favorite Scary Movie?

Ghostface!Thirteen x Local

usually I would make it a reader/mc insert but…

*slams fist into the table* your Honor they are Lesbians!

… also I literally made an entire October thing so I should be allowed to be completely self indulgent for once

also this is lightly based on the movie Scream but you can also listen to this doesn´t have anything to do with the story I just like it and it´s based on Scream

also also that one ended up being long ass Hell with 7029(for now) Words and the longest thing I have ever written by far

reasons why Local shouldn´t proof read, the word count just went up to 8000 words

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your parents left you alone for the Night, they always leave for Dates on Thursday Nights since you were old enough to be left on your own but that gave you an excuse to use the good TV in the living room and watch some scary movies, your Mom never let´s you watch them when they are home because your Dad is terrified of them no matter how old or silly they are… at least you can watch them in your room whenever you want and even have your wonderful and perfect Girlfriend and slightly murderous Cousin who share the same love of Horror as you so that makes up for the bad quality and all three of you will be to busy laughing to pay attention anyway

you actually wanted to invite your Girlfriend Thirteen to watch some movies with you but she said she had some more important things to take care of, your Cousin was out immediately because Satan always uses the weekend to play with the street Cat´s around his house or they track him down because they want something to eat and while both of you get along well, or at least as good as people can get along in this family you will never be on good enough terms that he would ditch Cat´s for your sake but not like you could blame him if somebody offered you to play with Rabbits you would also ditch him without a second thought, but knowing him there is a 50/50 chance he would not understand and get angry like he always does

you were going through the cupboards in the kitchen to find something to snack on while watching some of your favorite Scary movies, funnily enough the Scary Movie series was one of them you heard the Landline starting to ring which is weird because everybody who knows your Parents knows that 1. your Parents aren´t here and 2. you won´t pick up anyway because you hate talking with strangers… and you have a hard time recognizing voices on the phone, you stopped accepting them when your Uncles teased you about it when you were younger, the jokes is on them though you won´t even accept their calls on your phone

you just let it ringing because it would either be a Scam caller or one of your Uncles that got into trouble or that needs your help with a problem both options which deserve to get ignored even more so because it´s always hilarious when they act so insulted when you ignore them, even if they should have gotten used to this treatment already because you have been doing this for ages

you found an unopened bag of your favorite Chips when the phone rang again, you checked your mobile phone to see if your Mom or Dad, hell even one of your friends or Uncles tried to contact you but there was nothing, no message no missed calls or no incoming ones, seems like whoever is trying to reach your doesn´t know how you act or that your Parents are the ones who only answer it and you´ll be damned if you willingly talk with a stranger, they´ll get bored and give up soon enough

you put the first movie in for the night in the DVD player when the phone rang again, this time you denied the call but it rang again and no matter how many times you pressed the bright red button they would try again and again and what a surprise again, it would be a lot easier to just accept it and get over with it

“Morgenstern residence, if your here to get money back, someone insulted you online, slept with your Wife or Husband, dined and dashed, stole your Cat or fell asleep on your property you got the wrong family” you waited a moment for them to say anything, but it was oddly quiet you couldn´t even here the other person on the line, some minutes passed which felt more like hours before you tried again “if your trying to reach Lilith or Adam Morgenstern they are out right now but I can pass on a message if you want” you got your phone out and opened the notes app and got ready to type, but they still didn´t say anything “listen if this a prank it ain´t funny nor original so just leave me alone will ya?” you were about to end the call when they finally said something

“who am I speaking with?”

“did you type in a wrong number? because I don´t think you are from the same place we are cuz our family is pretty infamous here for all the wrong reasons might I add” this seemed to catch the other persons interest “this wouldn´t have anything to do with the wall of text you told me at the beginning?”

“believe me that happens so often me and my parents can recite it from the top of our heads no problem”

“what are you doing?” that´s odd usually people would ask you who they reached or who you are but it seems like they don´t care about the whole wrong number thing “I was about to watch a movie, nothing interesting”

“what kind of movie?” you didn´t pay attention to it at the beginning but they sounded kinda… odd to be honest their voice has some weird grain to it, reminds you of the time you and Satan did some prank calls with a voice changer when you were little “some Horror and Parody movies I picked out, nothing interesting here”

“oh really? do you like being scared?” you rolled your eyes “of course not, non of them are really Scary even the real Horror ones are kinda goofy because of their age”

“ah what a shame I think you would look cute when you´re scared” okay now they are moving into creep territory… I mean even more so than they were in the beginning so you would say the are in super creep territory now “what´s your favorite one?”

“why do you want to know? we don´t know each other and I don´t think we will talk after this call is done”

“let´s learn more about each other then, it could be fun” you don´t know why they are calling but maybe you could fuck with them a bit, could turn around in a funny direction “sure hit me with some questions than”

“tell me what´s your favorite Scary movie”

“I have multiple ones, but the most well know one is the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre”

“oh? what a surprise I also like it” you rolled your eyes and went back into the Kitchen, it might just be paranoia but you felt better being out of sight and near some knives even more so when you can keep an eye on them to make sure none will go missing “anything else than my movie preferences because I would like to continue my evening”

“do you have a boyfriend?” you had to hold back a groan, of course a random phone weirdo would ask that “no, why do you ask anyway wanna apply for the role or something?”

“are you offering me one?”

“you could try random phone creeper but I don´t think my Girlfriend would approve of this”

“so you have a Girlfriend? what´s she like?” you don´t know why but the voice sounds slightly smug, but you have no idea why that could be “a short or long version? because I can talk about her for hours you know”

“surprise me”

you looked at the knife blocked and picked out your favorite, it´s actually not a kitchen one but a fancy knife your Uncle Mammon got for you, it looks expensive and you learned to not ask questions when he gifts you something because you never know what is actually bought or stolen, he even says the wrong thing for fun on rare occasions just to mess with others, but never you or your Mom, he cares about you two to much and knows you both will beat his ass when he lies and makes you both panic over nothing “well she´s really nice and cool, super pretty as well and she hates my Uncle Asmo´s ex Solomon”

the voice sounded amused “and what did he do for her to hate him so much?”

you turned the knife in your hand around and watched the light reflect of off it, that´s another thing your Dad doesn´t want you to do when he´s around, in his word you got the stabby tendencies of your Uncles most notably Belphegor who´s first thing he did when meeting your Dad for the first time was trying to stab him when he just thought he might have hurt your Mom´s feelings, he also doesn´t want to be constantly on edge around his only Child, your Mom and her Brothers are bad enough and will scare him until the end “no idea, but if I know anything about Solomon he probably gave her some of his cooking, Solomon isn´t a bad guy but man he wouldn´t even be able to cook to save his life” you shuddered when you remembered the last time you had it, your Dad made the mistake of assuming Solomon would be a good babysitter and to make a long story short you had to get your stomach pumped from something Solomon made for you

“so Mx weirdo wanna continue twenty questions or can I finally start my night?”

“I have one last question” you threw the knife in the air and caught it without any trouble “if it´s a short one sure”

“that´s a nice knife you have there, aren´t your parents nervous having you play with it?”

…

… what? they must be joking! “ha ha very funny who set you up to this? is Satan still pissed I ate his kitty paw print cookies? or is this you Uncle Belphie? finally found out who spilled nail polish on your favorite pillow?” they said nothing and just breathed into the line, you decided to hold onto your knife and looked around, the blinds are down in all rooms but the Kitchen and even then nobody would be able to see you the window is to far up to see into and the tree besides it is still to small for anybody to climb onto

“are you scared?” you made sure to keep a firm grip on your knife, you took a look at the clock and saw the time, your parents should be on their way back and you don´t think this person would have the guts to keep their charade going when they are here “no I´m just thinking about which place would look best for my knife, I think your guts sound like a nice place” this is such a fucked up situation and they even had the gal to laugh at this “seems like you can be feisty, I like it but that sounds like a family trait from what you told me”

you moved out of the Kitchen and checked all of the doors again, good thing your Mom reminded you of the fact to make sure all of them are locked before leaving “how about you grow a spine and talk to me face to face? hmm? or are you to scared to get your ass kicked” you taunted the voice on the other line, was it a smart move? of course not! but your not know for being a smart person, you also weren´t to worried because you can already hear the car of your parents

“how about you come find me? we do live in the same place after all” you wanted to ask the voice what they meant but they already hanged up, they even timed it perfectly because your Mom and Dad just entered the house

“Honey we´re back! did you enjoy your alone time” you quickly put the knife back in it´s spot before they could see you with it and walked towards them, Lilith opened her arms like she expected you to hug her and you decided to indulge her for once, your Dad seemed more hesitant to say anything, he knows how clingy Lilith can get with people she loves and how she get´s when somebody interrupts her time with them

“did anything happen while we were gone?” your Dad knows nobody calls them when you are alone but he always asks, you know it´s not good to keep the weird call from them but you also didn´t want to worry them “no nothing Dad the same as always” you separated from your Mom and walked up the stairs to your room “anyway I´m getting tired and have to wake up early today, so night” you walked up without waiting for their reply and could faintly hear them say good night to you too

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

you went to College the next day like nothing happened the Night before, the phone call with the person from last night still stuck in your head you should have told the police but not like they would have done something, getting your Uncles involved would have been a better choice but if you tell them they´ll pelt you with questions and scoldings on why you didn´t talk with them earlier, you don´t even want to imagine what they´ll say when you tell them you didn´t even tell your parents and if you are stuck with a potential maniac killer and sitting through another lecture from Lucifer death sounds a lot more favorable but you did one little thing you decided to pocket your pepper spray your Dad got you just in case somebody will try anything you have something besides punching them in the nuts or guts to defend you with, I mean you could have taken your knife with you but you tried that one and got nearly thrown out of school for it so it isn´t allowed to leave the House

“hey Local! wait up!” someone called out to you and when you turned around you saw Solomon running after you “what´s up with you today usually you wait for me and Simeon to catch up but today you just kept on walking as if you were stuck in your own world” ah yeah… you usually do that, you didn´t even notice that you already passed them, seems like you were stuck deeper in your head than you thought

“sorry Solomon I didn´t get to sleep much last night so I forgot” a lie but it´s not like he could tell, you´re always drowsy and have the eye bags of a raccoon so it isn´t hard to believe you, you looked behind him and looked for the second person who always walks with you guys “were´s Simeon? don´t tell me you left him behind”

Solomon looked behind him and was just as confused as you “did… did we lose him?”

“hey don´t drag me into this I didn´t lose anybody” you tried to walk away but Solomon took your arm and dragged you after him “yeah not happening you didn´t see us so technically you did lose him too” you rolled your eyes but willingly followed him

both of you found Simeon not far from were Solomon found you it seems like some stray Cat´s made themselves comfortably in front of his feet and he didn´t want to disturb their peaceful slumber

“so did we miss something or have you always been a Cat bed?” Simeon doesn´t seem to like your jokes right now because he gives you a look that screams help “can you guys help me? I don´t want to wake them but I don´t want to be late either” you and Solomon exchanged some looks, you would help but before that you have to do something even more important, both of you got out your phones and snapped some pictures of Simeon´s Cat prison and sent them in your group chat with you, Solomon and Satan in it, Satan will be so jealous to know both of you saw so many Cat´s at once and he wasn´t there for it, that´s what he get´s for being lazy and driving to College instead of walking with you guys

you were the first one to get a Cat, you picked up a fluffy white one, it almost looked like it was a House Cat but the missing collar and state of their paws told a different story, it didn´t seem bothered by being moved either it just looked at you, gave a little meow and tried to fall asleep in your arms, you have a feeling by the end of this all of you will be stuck in the Cat prison

somehow you three managed to free yourself from the sleepy Kitties with enough time left to arrive on time, the three of you split up to go to your classes and by the end of them you planned to get back together to walk home, you were the first one to get outside, you lucked out and the teacher decided to call it quiets earlier than usually, a rare treat for your classes but to your surprise somebody was already waiting for you, two somebodies actually

one was your lovely and eccentric Girlfriend the other your angry Cousin who looked ready to bite your head off, seems like he didn´t appreciate the Cat pictures and was angry you didn´t give him time to arrive to play with them but if any of you did that you would have a death wish because Lucifer would have killed you three if you were the reason Satan didn´t appear for his classes

“HOW DARE YOU!” Satan screamed at you, he was so loud your ears started to hurt from his volume alone “you know how much I love Cat´s is that why you and Solomon would torture me like this!?”

Thirteen also covered her ears, you at least had some safety distance but Thirteen was unfortunate enough to get stuck near him so she can hear him even better than you do

“will you shut up already! It feels like I´m going deaf!” Satan looked like he wanted to say something else but you quickly walked towards Thirteen and hugged her, Thirteen hugged you back and Satan made a gagging sound

“be a lovey dovey couple as much as you want but do you have to do it around me?” Thirteen decided to tease him “what? jealous that we´re in love” Satan looked disgusted “first of all you two being all couple like is gross especially with my cousin which just increases the disgusting factor and second I have somebody that loves me”

“yeah a bunch of Cat´s” Satan looked ready to jump her and tear her to shreds but you intervened

“ya know what would be even worse? imagine if Lucifer had somebody” this made Satan look physically ill, seems like you found his weak spot, could come in handy for future problems “ugh… don´t make me imagine such terrors…” he quickly changed his tune though, it looks like he remembered something “hey did you know that your Dad told us he found some footprints near your House?” you felt Thirteen freeze up, you didn´t know why though, maybe she was worried about you?

“why is that so weird? there are always footprints around our place?”

“yeah but not around your Kitchen and Garden, that´s of limits and we know you didn´t invite somebody to come over”

“so are they worried somebody wants to break in or was snooping around our place?” Satan nodded “I mean it is weird and there have been some weird things happening around town, remember that weird murder case from a couple of days ago?” Thirteen seemed nervous at this, but neither you or Satan picked up on it despite your proximity to her

“oh yeah I remember that, that guy and his Girlfriend were found hung from a tree outside their home, guts hanging out and all”

Satan nodded “exactly and they think it was the same person that killed those two, there were footprints around the House and it was recently found out they got a call before they were killed”

this made you a bit nervous, the chance of anybody going after you or your relatives is small but never zero and then there is the fact with the weird phone call from yesterday, even worse that somebody was in fact around your House yesterday or even before that

Satan noticed it and stopped talking “you know if your scared you could stay with us, I´m sure everybody would be really happy to finally have you over again” you glared at him, he´s planning something you are sure about it “yeah nice try Satan what are you planning?”

he looked insulted but you know he just did it to be dramatic “I´m planning nothing and you know it”

“bullshit, do you want to do something illegal or something that goes against Lucifer?” Satan rolled his eyes “if I wanted to do something Lucifer forbid me from doing I would do it in front of him and you know it”

you shrugged “I mean I know you keep a kitten hidden so I would say you´re a liar” he gasped “how dare you! it´s three kittens and their parents”

“alright you got five hidden Cats but my point still stands”

“the only reason I don´t show them off because Lucifer will take them from me” you rolled your eyes, yeah as if he wouldn´t notice them, you meet one of them they were so loud and energetic you can´t imagine that your Uncle Lucifer didn´t already notice them maybe he decided to be nice for once and indulge him with his wants of keeping a Cat

Satan wanted to say something else but Thirteen interrupted him “alright you two will have enough time with your chit chats some other time but I can see the biggest pest of the universe leaving so we have to go” you and Satan looked to the exit and saw Simeon and Solomon leaving, you don´t know if she also wanted to use Solomon as a distraction but Satan already ran to him screaming about “how dare he!?” and “why didn´t they bring a Cat for him!?” you can´t see Solomon but he looks ready to bolt and you can´t blame him, Satan doesn´t care all to much for him and you wouldn´t put it past him to chase him all over town just so he can scream at him some more

you felt Thirteen tug on your arm but it was more for you to look forward so you don´t trip again because she dragged you to her car without looking back, no surprise there your actually proud of here that she didn´t throw her school supplies at him

before you knew it you were already at her Car, she opened it and you made yourself comfortable on the passengers seat and let her drive you to wherever she wants to go

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

you were looking out of the window and watching the scenery go by, neither you or Thirteen saying anything at all something that happens rather often but neither of you two mind, it´s nice to just exist with somebody and not be forced to keep a dialogue going or doing your own thing and enjoying somebodies presence

it took you a moment but you realized that Thirteen was driving you to her House, a rarity considering most of the time you´ll either walk through town or she wants to go to your place, she never told you why but you always thought it was because Candy is gone most of the time for work reasons and Thirteen just doesn´t like to stay in an empty House an understandable reason because their House also has a pretty big creep factor too it´s rather isolated between the edge of the town and a massive forest so if something were to ever happen it would be difficult to get help on time or even reach anybody at all the phone service has been know to be pretty bad, good thing that Thirteen or Candy never had an emergency happen there who knows how it could have ended

Thirteen parked the car and both of you left and walked into the Home “any reason we are here today?” Thirteen shrugged “I was planning to do a party this weekend and I know you would be a good help” you rolled your eyes “really me? the person who if they could would never leave their House? you thought I would be a good choice”

“well either you or Asmo and I sure as Hell don´t want him to take over my party”

“yeah a valid concern, his fans alone would take up the entire guest list”

“and that´s why you are my second best choice” you rolled your eyes “your loving Girlfriend of two years is your second choice? how flattering”

“better than being my third choice if you said no I would be forced to ask Mammon for help, but now I have you and that means you can ask him and get the help for free”

“Uncle Mammon doesn´t work for free”

“sure he does if either his little Sister or his wonderful and totally awesome Niece would ask he would do it without asking for anything in return” you crossed your arms “and that´s the reason you dragged me here? because if that was all of it you could have literally told me anywhere hell could have said it as soon as you saw me”

“okay but then the others would have heard us talk about it and I thought it would be interesting to invite some of the people from our college” this confused you, did something happened between the others and Thirteen? usually when there are any parties going on it´s one between friends or when one of your Uncles invited you both to one of theirs “did you guys have a fight or something I didn´t hear about? because it´s pretty weird to make one without them”

Thirteen just gave you a grin, that´s really weird… even for you, did something happen to her?

“nah I just thought it would be nice to do something that doesn´t involve them, you know make new friends and all that”

“who are you and what did you do with the real Thirteen?” Thirteen looks like she got the joke but you weren´t joking, something seriously must be up because that´s not normal behavior for her, maybe something happened between her and Candy that she doesn´t want to tell you about? yeah that must be it I mean why else would she act so suspiciously…

Thirteen just looked like she remembered something “actually there is something I wanted to ask you, you didn´t happen to get any weird phone calls or anything like that did you?” this made you a bit nervous “well…”

Thirteen took your hand in hers and gave you a reassuring squeeze “if you don´t want to that´s fine I was just worried” she gave you a grin that can only mean she´s up to something “ya know I heard there were more than just two dead bodies and guess what?”

you feel like you already know what she´s getting at “your not telling me that all of them got phone calls before getting murdered”

“exactly, so tell me did you get one”

“I mean kinda? someone did call me yesterday and asked me some pretty weird questions but I just thought it was a prank call” Thirteen didn´t look surprised but more like… that´s the answer she was looking for? it´s kinda an odd one that´s hard for you to pinpoint

“what did they ask? If it was the killer maybe it could be something useful if it was them” you don´t know why she´s so interested in what they said but you decided to indulge her “well they just asked a bunch of stupid questions before trying to threaten me, jokes on them Mom made sure everything was locked and the blinds were down” Thirteen doesn´t look impressed at your words “nothing else? this couldn´t have been it”

“why are you so interested anyway? some creep called me and thought it would be funny to prank me what more is there to it?”

“I´m just worried about you, what if it was the killer and they decided to target you next?” you just shook your head “they can try but if they harm just one hair on my head they´ll get hunted down for the rest of their life so what is there to worry about?” Thirteen didn´t say anything more but she seemed pretty upset about this

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

the day of the party arrived faster than you thought, maybe because you just had one day for prep work and barely got everything together even with Mammon´s help and all he wanted in return was an alibi when he needs one and honestly? you got of pretty cheap because even if he would need one he won´t ask you for one ooor he´ll do something really bad and your stuck with the consequences but the chances of that happening are really really really small but also not zero so you hope your gamble won´t come back to bite you in the ass

you looked around and Thirteen really wasn´t lying when she said that she wanted to invite some random people from your college, some of them you can barely recognize as people who share some classes with you, some are people you share a club with and the majority are people you don´t recognize at all maybe some that you or Thirteen know in passing but nothing more

now that your looking a bit closer you couldn´t see Thirteen anywhere, maybe she had to get something and is in the basement? you hope not, because no amount of money can make you go down there, the lack of a railing and the fact they have stone steps is a death sentence for you considering you are well known for falling down or even up the stairs even in your own Home

you actually hope she isn´t down there so you tried to look for her upstairs but couldn´t find her anywhere, you don´t know why but you got a very bad feeling, like something will go really wrong today

when you went back down and it was just quiet… like everybody left you couldn´t even hear the footsteps or chats from down there anymore it´s really concerning but you saw one person still here laying on the sofa in the living room and decided to ask him what is up

“hey were did the rest of the people go?” this surprised the guy, he nearly jumped out of his own skin when he heard you “who the fuck are you and were did you from come!?” you rolled your eyes “obviously I was invited too smart ass, I was looking around and suddenly everything is empty”

“so your one of those weirdos I see... hey you look really familiar don´t tell me your related to those freaks ya know which ones I´m talking about Lucifer and all of his fucked up siblings and relatives” you don´t know why but this guy sounds really punch able now just because your family is know to be doing it´s own thing and is involved in multiple criminal and amoral actions and… okay maybe your family are freaks but nobody outside of the family is allowed to say it, but before you could do it he continued “the others heard there was another party going on and ditched, dunno who threw the party but it´s a really bad one and if I somebody who rarely get´s invited to parties says that it must have really sucked” you rolled your eyes “wonder why nobody invites you”

“the hell is your problem”

you ignored the guy, you know what you wanted to know and Thirteen is a lot more important than some rude dick that doesn´t even know the most basic of manners, you even got all of your courage together and walked down to the basement and while you didn´t find Thirteen you found something that could also be the reason why the House was empty, because in front of the fridge was a corpse, by the looks of it they must have gotten the shit beaten out of them with a couple of bottles and if anybody would like to know how you know that it´s because they are covered in glass as well as the ground around them so it´s pretty obvious what finished them off

you should be more freaked out by the fact a murderer is running around your Girlfriends house and doing who knows what but your more concerned about Thirteen than anything else and considering the fact you couldn´t find her anywhere in the House has you even more worried, who knows if she´s even alive at this point

you heard somebody opening the basement door and hurried to find a hiding place, just your luck to be stuck in the only place in the whole House with no possible way to somehow escape and the only place that is safe for you would be one of the closest down here or behind some of the boxes scattered around the place and while the boxes might have been a possible hiding spot you decided on the closet at least there if they see you you could use the door as a defense and try to at least run out of the basement while the person is distracted, to bad it doesn´t have any spots for you to look through so if you want to see anything you just have to hope that not only will you be able to see them but also that they won´t immediately notice your hiding spot, maybe the boxes would have been the smart choice at least with them you could see the person and be able to react better

you honestly don´t know if it was a good choice or not but now it´s to late to change your mind you can already see somebody walking down the stairs and according to their weird costume that covers their entire body and face you can already guess that they are the one responsible for the corpse down here not to speak about the fact the mask is still covered in blood and that they don´t want anybody knowing what they are up to considering their get up doesn´t give much of a clue on who it could be

who knows if they know your down here with them but you hope not, you would really prefer it if they just walked back up those stupid stairs, preferably far away from the door so you can run out in one piece and hope that the phone will work today and the Cops get here fast enough to catch them

you don´t know if they had a sixth sense for knowing when a potential victim is here or they just knew somehow but they didn´t leave, of course they wouldn´t just go up and leave they actually went through the hassle of looking for you and it seems like it was a good call to hide in the closet because their first choice was looking behind the boxes and now you could also see that they were holding something in their hand and of course it was a knife, I mean what else could you expect than the number one murder weapon for a shitty wannabe Slasher and when you get out of this alive your Dad is going to get such an earful from it´s going to make your Uncle Lucifer´s scolding look like child´s play in comparison because if it wasn´t for him and his, to be fair valid fears of you stabbing somebody, you could have a better chance against them than some shitty pepper spray, guess in this situation the mask has more than one use, who would have thought?

seems like they had enough of throwing the boxes around in hope of finding somebody and moved onto the next and of course with the luck of somebody that broke five mirrors and got attacked by a Black Cat and ran under a ladder their next choice to look at was the closet you were hiding in, you don´t know why but you are also pretty sure they noticed that it was open and if anybody was hiding in the Basement this would be a good place to look for them, well you just hope your plan of hitting them with the door will work out otherwise you will be more than just screwed, you don´t know what other people think but you aren´t looking forward to getting impaled

is it the wrong time for jokes? yeah but it beats just constantly thinking “I don´t wanna die” and the jokes help you with staying calm anyway because without some humor this situation will hit you like a train and sitting in a corner while crying and screaming sounds rather counter productive to your survival

when you saw their footsteps in front of the closet you decided to take your chance and pushed your entire weight onto the door when they were about to open it and they fell down and seemed a bit dazed, you decided to take the best chance you will get this night and ran as fast as you could but it seems like their confusion was shorter than you anticipated, when you reached the stairs they were already back on their feet and hot on your tail and the only thing from stopping them from getting you was this small advantage you got by pushing them over

when you reached the door to the basement you get to work blocking it, you would have loved if there was something heavier to block it with but you all you had near you was a chair, at least it should buy you some valuable seconds or more for your escape

you tried to leave from the front door but it was locked and the key was nowhere to be seen, getting to the backdoor would take to much time and would put you in a bad spot when the killer decides on their second debut with you back there, not many ways for you to run besides directly at them and considering they have a knife and you pretty much nothing it would be a horrible choice on your part, but good for the killer considering their Victim just ran into their knife

which only leaves you with trying your luck upstairs, I mean you could try and break a window but there aren´t that many for you to fit through and even less you could reach properly, it also doesn´t help that the majority of the windows who could give you easy access to the House are blocked by some metal bars, good idea to keep potential robbers out but in the present it just fucks you over

you kept your eyes open for anything else, you find it hard to believe that the corpse in the basement was the only one there was and you are partially right because that asshole from before was sitting on the ground holding onto his side and by the looks of it he got stabbed “you still alive over there?” he seemed startled and pulled out a gun that you have no idea where he fucking got it from but not getting shot is your priority on top of running from a killer now

“stay back!” he waved that thing around like it´s nothing but a toy and if that is supposed to scare you he does a piss poor job at it “I should have known it was you!”

wow for somebody that you don´t know he really has it out for you “listen asshole I don´t know what´s your problem but I didn´t do shit” it didn´t seem like your word made him willing to put down the gun, good thing you didn´t want him to otherwise you would have failed pretty bad

“your related to those guys aren´t you!? everybody knows there is something seriously wrong with everybody in this fucking family!” oh great now he´s back to that, so what if your family is involved in a bunch of shit that might involve murder? at least you guys are decent people unlike the majority of people that live here

“very mature of you dude, listen there´s a killer locked in the basement and I want to get the cops so just ignore me will you?” you tried to walk back but that fucking asshole shot at your feet! the nerves of that guy your regretting not beating him up even more now

“nice try I already know it was you, your the only one that wasn´t seen the entire party and looking around the House like a creep” wow this guy is dumber than you thought, like seriously the hell is his problem? did your Uncle Asmo fuck his parents and ruined his life or something else because you don´t know why else he would hate you guys so much

“listen have fun getting murdered dude but I couldn´t give less of a shit about who you think did it, it wasn´t me and I would prefer to leave here on my own two feet and not a body bag” he was glaring at you, at least he wasn´t aiming at you anymore and when you tried to find a place to hide you heard a crash and the sound of something breaking seems like your plan of not leaving in a body bag was crushed

you saw the person in the costume walk into the room, the most notable thing about them wasn´t the silly mask or the kind sweet robes no it was their, a really fucking familiar one at that, so familiar in fact that it couldn´t be any more obvious that they stole it from you

before you could do anything the asshole shoot at their foot and got them, they fell down and their mask too and you saw a really familiar face

“Thirteen?” she looked up at you and despite the pain she must be in she looked at you and gave you a grin, yeah that could only be her but it seems like the asshole with a gun didn´t get the memo or even notice that both of you were about to have a moment and tried to shoot her again fortunately he missed and seemed out of bullets I mean you hope so you didn´t really get a phd in gun or really have any knowledge at all

before you knew what you were doing you walked up to him, ripped the gun out of his hands and hit him with it until he fell unconscious, it only took one and you hope he´s only unconscious and not dead, for now that is I mean he was a dick and shot your Girlfriend that´s enough of a reason for you to not care about him

you decided to put your attention to the more important person “Thirteen genuinely what the fuck? what the fuck were you thinking turning your own House into a damn slaughterhouse?”

“did you realize that the majority of the people I invited were the ones who tried to make your live difficult for no reason at all” so she killed the people who didn´t stop bothering you in a weird way that´s… pretty sweet actually in a really concerning and fucked up way but still a sweet gesture

“so you killed for me?” she nodded, she didn´t seem sorry at all and also knows that you won´t run from her “partially for you but also because I wanted to, mainly just for you though” you sat down on a chair that wasn´t covered in blood, you needed a moment to digest it what you just learned “okay what about the rest of the people that were here, I know you couldn´t have killed them all and if they saw a corpse I would have heard it”

she looked around a bit and seemed pretty out of it pale too… okay seems like the question have to wait “okay listen I don´t want either of us to die so that´s what we´re going to do, get out of costume and put it on the guy”

“you know I´m dying and you want me to play dress up? I know you have the craziest plans that always work out but I feel like your are pushing it today” you glared at her and she quieted down seems like she knows your serious “first of all don´t interrupt me second we are going to put the costume on the guy, I want my knife back and I´m going to stab the guy and the story we´ll use is that you wanted to throw a party, he saw a chance to do what he wanted and came to, killed the girl in the basement and shoot you I sneaked up behind him and ‘accidentally’ killed him trying to save you, got it?” she nodded but didn´t do more you really hoped she´ll remember this, you made sure everybody around was dead already, put on your best panicked voice and crocodile tears for the effect and made sure the police and ambulance was on the way before you stabbed yourself in a non vital area, despite the blood lose Thirteen jumped up and tried to put pressure on the wound

“what the hell are you doing!?”

“listen if it was you then it would makes sense I didn´t get hurt, but some random guy that hates my family? no way I wouldn´t get hurt and the ambulance will be here soon so I won´t be in any danger” she relaxed a bit and let go of it

“am I going to get into trouble?” she gave you a hopeful look but if she thinks nearly dying will stop you from not giving her a hard time she´s wrong

“I´m going to tell Candy” Thirteen did her best attempt at tackling you and gave you a panicked look “do you even know what she´ll do when she hears about this!? I´ll be grounded for all of eternity” you sluing your arms around her and pulled her closer “maybe you should have thought about this before killing people without telling me beforehand” you kissed her and despite how disgusting it was kissing her while the smell of blood and death was surrounding you both you couldn´t be happier when both of you separated she gave you a look of mischief

“if you tell Candy I´m telling Adam and Lilith what you did too” you heard the sounds of sirens approaching and let yourself fall back down “sure but then you´ll have to life with the fact my Dad will never allow you in the House ever again and might even make me break up with you” this time she was the one that gave you a kiss “Lilith wouldn´t let him, she knows your happy with me”

“also true…” you saw police officers and ambulance workers right behind them, you really hope your plan works and nobody will think it was Thirteen, seems like you didn´t hit an as harmless point as you thought because you got woozy and shortly after fell unconscious

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tried my best to keep it serious but I´m still and always will be a complete Clown besides the point I might make a second part/epilogue who will be more my usually style of silly and insane if you have interest tell me

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfiction #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me thirteen #obey me thirteen x original character #obey me thirteen x female original character #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me satan

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fzzr · 1 year

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Angel Beats! Made Me Cry for Twenty Minutes

I should probably emphasize that Angel Beats! made me cry for twenty minutes on multiple viewings. Nothing else in anime or even in media in general has ever left me so emotionally devastated. I find it to be Perfect in Every Way That Matters, and I need to talk about why.

To get us started, I will be plagiarizing referencing this part of the Mother's Basement video "Why We Love Spy x Family". In very short, when media needs to get the consumer invested in its characters as fast as possible, one of the greatest tools is humor. If you want your reader to cry with your characters, first you make them laugh with them. Angel Beats! gets you laughing ASAP so that when the first emotional assault comes in episode three, you're already invested enough to feel it. With only thirteen episodes to work with, this is a show that needs to be efficient, and boy is it ever.

I need to take a not-quite-side-trip here: Angel Beats! has something that is very unfair, and that is the quality of its music. The "Beats" in the title is there for multiple reasons, but music is certainly one of them. The opening and ending are both never skip. You especially MUST NOT skip the ending, no matter how slow it seems. Watch it every time. Trust me on this. The insert songs are also so good they put most dedicated music anime to shame. Like, I love me some Show By Rock!! and Ya Boy Kongming! but I watched those around the same time as Angel Beats! and despite them both providing multiple tracks to my top playlists, Angel Beats! tops them both. It will not surprise you that part of this is how integrated the music is with all those feels.

There's more! The story is not just emotionally fraught, it's also fascinating in concept and flawless in execution. The pacing is even used as a tool to keep you invested. After a particular cliffhanger the show goes into an extended flashback, leaving you hanging from that cliff while it hits you with yet another brutal twist. The animation is consistently great, even when it's not flexing with dynamic action scenes. A show like this doesn't necessarily need that level of quality, but since it does have it there's nothing to distract you from the truly important stuff.

So, where does the crying for 20 minutes come in? Well, each episode is 24 minutes long. During the final episode, I only kept it together for four of them. Even the final ending theme is a crying part - that's one reason why it's so important to watch it each time. I don't want to spoil any reasons here, plus explaining it all would take as long as everything I've written here so far. It should be obvious by now that the 11/10 factor that makes Angel Beats! a 10 is the feels.

Before wrapping up, I do need to give some content advisories. There is a nontrivial amount of violence in this show, though not excessive gore. Some of those hard-hitting emotional moments include discussion of suicide.

Conclusion:

Score: 10/10, obviously. If you have somehow not watched Angel Beats! yet, you should rectify that ASAP. It's shorter than two Marvel movies. It's one of the most emotionally impactful pieces of media I have ever experienced, and I think it could be one of yours too. It's Perfect in Every Way That Matters.

The power level requirement is minimal. The only limitation is tolerance for violence, and if you can watch a modern somewhat gritty action flick you can more than handle what you'll see here.

Comparisons:

Saekano is another show that hit me hard in the feels. Indeed, watching that prompted me to re-watch Angel Beats! to check if the crown had been passed (it had not). Saekano is more than twice the length of Angel Beats! and it spends the extra time on the secondary theme of artistic fulfillment, and on shenanigans. Angel Beats! has no time to spare, so even what seems to be shenanigans is building the infrastructure necessary to deploy feels when the time comes. The fact that it manages to find time for humor every step of the way is even more impressive. Saekano is a great, emotionally impactful show - but when it comes to feels it doesn't hold a candle to Angel Beats!

#angel beats #anime #feels #it should be illegal for a show like this to have better music than most music anime #seriously though get the tissues ready #original post

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statticscribbles · 3 years

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Attack

Summary: Justin Foley/Male Reader, Justin breaks up with Jessica cause she was cheating on him, and Jessica tries to attack reader

Justin and Jessica had been inseparable. They'd been a force and everyone had assumed they would always be together. Everyone had assumed they would stay together and be high school sweethearts and get married.

And then Justin had caught Jessica with some guy named Adam, and one named Daniel and then Jessica had confessed she’d been with others as well.

”No Jessica, he has nothing to do with it.”

“Y/N Has everything to do with how you broke my heart! We were supposed to be endgame, we were supposed to go all the way, and then you threw it all back in my face because you found someone with a dick that you prefer to having sex with me!”

“You were having sex with like five other people Jess!

“And you were oggling Y/N.”

“Looking at someone isn’t the same thing as cheating!”

“Well if you were actually a good boyfriend….” She hisses but seems to disagree with her own train of thought before storming off.

You’d been nervous about being out as Justin’s boyfriend. You weren’t sure how the rest of the class would react. If Jessica’s reaction was anything to go by you knew that most of the school would be upset. You wonder if they’ll be upset about Jessica and Justin being separated or if they’ll just be pissed Justin is off the market.

You were expecting someone to give you dirty looks, and most of Jessica’s friends were fulfilling that roll.

You’d been getting glares and mutters of disgust for the past week, Justin had tried to get you to ignore it, and for the most part you were able to.

“Y/N.” You turn grinning to see Justin as he pulls you into him.

“What’s going on.” You tilt your head a little and Justin just holds you tighter.

“Jessica came by my house.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah she was trying to convince me to get back with her, kept talking about how we could pretend everything was fine and that nothing bad happened between us..”

“And what did you say back?”

“I told her to fuck off and that I was way happier with you than her.”

“Aw that’s sweet, in like a fucked up way that you have to even tell her that at all.”

“Yeah but it’s good that she likes know, and you’re setting boundaries.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t have to, but I mean ex-girlfriends.”Justin shrugs and you laugh a little nodding as he pulls you towards the doors to sneak to Monet’s for lunch.

You decide it’s easier not to call Justin. You’d already told him you’d been picking up extra shifts and he had offered to pick you up so you two could spend extra time together. Usually you didn’t mind, but of course the one day you’d assured him you actually liked the walk home was when it was raining.

It’s not a heavy rain or even really all that dark from the storm clouds, but you’re dragging your feet to try to avoid walking in the rain as much as you can.

Of course don’t notice the figure approaching you, you don't recognise Jessica. You don’t register she’s holding a baseball bat until your knee and ankle start to burn.

Support My Writing?

#justin foley x you #justin foley reader insert #justin foley imagine #justin foley x reader #justin foley #justin foley x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #13 reasons why #13 reasons why reader insert #13 reasons why request #13 reasons why imagine #thirteen reasons why #thirteen reasons why reader insert #thirteen reasons why imagine #thirteen reasons why request #thirteen reasons why headcanon #written #stattic

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stattic-writes · 4 years

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Overprotective

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

Support My Writing?

#scott reed x reader #scott reed #scott reed imagine #scott reed x you #scott reed x y/n #scott x reader #scott x y/n #scott x you #13 reasons why #13 reasons why imagine #thirteen reasons why imagine #thirteen reasons why #13 reasons why request #13 reasons why reader insert #thirteen reasons why request #thirteen reasons why reader insert #Brandon Butler #Brandon Butler imagine #Brandon Butler request

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thomotomo · 3 years

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“Oh shit”

Pairing: Zach Dempsey x Trans Male Reader

Summary: You get caught by your crush in your binder in the changing room.

Words: 2.3k

You walked inside the changing room, having waited for everyone to leave it. Luckily for you after PE class you had a hour hole where you didn’t had class allowing you to wait until you were sure that everyone had left the room until you could change in peace.

You walked inside and went straight to your locker, the faster you did it, the faster you could go do something else. You took off your clothes and reached for the one you usually wore. You heard a bang echoing through the room along with footsteps going quickly.

You tried to put your shirt above your naked torso but the stress along your internal prayer for that person not being Bryce had made you end up in a tangled mess with nearly nothing covered, especially not the one you wanted to hide. The person stopped in front of you and you barely kept a sigh of relief when you noticed it was only Zach, your crush. Great.

You then remembered that you still didn’t put your shirt on and you turned your back to him to change quickly, face burning with shame. He had hidden his face in his hands, it was

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t knew there was s-someone else!”, he spoke up first and you could feel that he was at least as ashamed as you were.

“I-It’s nothing.”

“No no! I’m really sorry. Erm I-I just forgot something in my locker..”

He quickly went over his locker as you finished to put all your clothes on.

“Are you decent?”, he asked, still not facing you and you were glad he respected your boundaries.

“It’s… It’s okay. Erm thanks for not… looking.”

“O-Of course! It’s normal! It’s your privacy after all!”

You smiled at him shyly before remembering that you could do anything and you were craving a hot chocolate from Monet’s. You opened your mouth just as he did and you looked at each other and smiled awkwardly .

“Maybe we should go outside first?”

He agreed and you left the room, Zach right behind you. You walked in the corridor and went outside the building in silence, which was quite awkward in your opinion. You stopped once you were far enough from the school building.

“I didn’t knew you were hum…” he stopped himself when you dead panned at him and he flushed a bright red.

“I- No I didn’t mean like that because of course you don’t want anyone to know about it but… Okay I’m going to shut up.”

“Yeah.”

Both of you stood there awkwardly and you were shuffling your feet but as it seemed he wasn’t about to say something more. You took a step backward and smiled at him.

“I’ve gotta go… See you later.”

“See you later!”

You left him there and went to Monet, ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows on the top. You sat at a table hidden in a corner as you thought about the strange interaction you just had with Zach. You really hoped he wouldn’t say anything about it because if he did you were in deep shit.

At least he had seemed a bit flustered and pretty with what he saw so maybe it was a good sign? You really didn’t knew but hoped nothing wrong was going to happen following that.

You decided to bury these bad thoughts by drinking and listening to music allowing yourself to relax a bit before your last period. You sat here, comforted by the coffee’s atmosphere, really this was your favourite place in the whole town. Your phone rang, indicating that it was time for you to leave for class.

You took your backpack, leaving a small tip for the waitress and went back to the school meeting up with Alex at your locker. Both of you discussed heartily about the last exams you had to take in that class which was AP Biology. You sat inside the classroom next to each other, hoping that you won’t get a bad grade. You tried to ignore the feeling of someone watching you as you were pretty sure it was Zach. You never hated more the fact that he was in your class than right now.

The teacher walked inside and you shut up as she started talking about the exams you passed few weeks back. She pulled them out and went to distribute them around the class. You grinned at Alex as you see your mark, it was above what you had hoped for: 96!

He looked a bit disappointed as he got “only” 78 but you offered to help him to work on the points he might not have fully understood. Right after that the teacher decided you had to do an assignment in duo. You waited until he told more, hoping that maybe you could do it with Alex but sadly she was going to partner you with someone. You listened as Ms. Honecker paired people together and sadly/luckily for you, you ended up with Zach. From one side you were happy because you knew he was working well on the other side you knew it was going to be awkward.

You heard that Alex was paired up with Monty you smirked at him and watched Alex turn a bright shade of red until he swatted you on the arm.

“Shut up. You’re no better!”

“Firstly, I didn’t say anything and second, that’s true. But I’m not the red one!”

“You were thinking so loud it’s practically the same! Of course, you teased me first!”

“Now please go with your partners! This work has to be returned to me for the first week of next month! Good luck everyone.”

You took your backpack and went to meet Zach where he was seated and you nodded at him feeling a bit awkward (just as you predicted, congrats you can now open a fortune teller salon!). You sat next to him and took out your textbook.

“Do you want to come to my house after class? We could start writing a bit more about the subject.”

“Yeah good idea… So… What do you want to start the searches on?”

Both of you worked for the two hours, searching through the textbook interesting info about genes and evolution, sometimes discussing about what particular species you wanted to concentrate on to talk about their evolution and genes that had been kept or not through their evolution.

It was quite interesting and Zach seemed really into Biology and you liked that he was as much a fan of this subject as you were. You were clearly going to have fun for this assignment with him. The two hours went quickly and you packed up your things.

“I…Have to go to my locker and talk to Alex. Do you mind if we meet each other in say… 10 minutes?”

“Good for me!”

You left the classroom, meeting with Alex in the corridor. He grinned smugly at you and you sticked out your tongue at him.

“So? You seemed quite cosy with Zach back there huh?”

“Shut the fuck up Alex! You seemed quite at ease yourself if you want to know!”

“Mmh yeah. And fuck his arms are huge if you want to know!”, he recalled, licking his lips.

“Nope! I don’t want to know more! Especially if you want to describe me some kind of fantasies about him!”, he laughed at you as you reached the lockers.

“I won’t be able to walk with you. Zach and I are going to work on the project.”

“Yeah sure thing “work” I know what kind of work you want to do!”, he did quotation marks with his hands as your face was feeling quite hot at the thoughts of it. You swatted his arm with your hand.

“You’re not better! So, I’m going to go, see you tomorrow Alex and you better tell me that you got that dick instead of harassing me.”

He flipped you off as you walked away to meet Zach. He was scrolling on his phone and straighten out when he noticed you walking toward him.

“You good?”

“Yep we can go!”

He grinned at you and oh my god that was such a beautiful smile. You stood there stunned for a few seconds before following him to his car. You went in and he drove you to his house in a comfortable silence.

When you reached his house, you were quite in awe, it was quite big and pretty fancy (at least on the outside but you were betting that inside it looked quite as beautiful). You walked inside and woaw the inside looked fancy as fuck too, more in a modern way but you were sure that this sofa costed as much as you manga collection. There was a girl seated on said sofa and Zach ruffled her hair.

“This is May, my little sister! May this is Y/N he’s my partner for an assignment.”

“’Sup! So, you’re Y/N? Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise.”, you smiled at her, wondering if Zach talked about you seeing as she seemed to “recognize” you.

You followed Zach to his room and both of you sat on the ground and took out your things. He put on some music in the background and both of you started working on the evolution of the whale and you had fun debating on what interesting part to chose to speak about and more generally discussing about biology.

At a moment you were quite close from each other as you showed him something on your phone. You felt your face burning, trying to ignore this proximity as he read the article on your phone. You had worked for an hour when you decided to take a break from the work.

As Zach was to the bathroom you sent a message to your dad, telling him you won’t be back before 7pm because you were working with Zach. You closed your phone as he walked back in the room with cookies.

“I took some cookies if you want to eat.”

“That’s awesome thanks Zach!”

You took one and ate it as you looked at the room. It was big and a lot of basketball and baseball stars, a classic jock room in your opinion. You felt Zach’s curious gaze on your face and you looked up at him.

“You want to ask something right?”

“Ah! Erm yes… I mean only if that doesn’t bother you…”

“It depends if it’s invasive or not.”, you shrugged, trying to play it cool.

“I was wondering… Does anyone else know?”

“Apart from Alex and my parents nope. I mean that’s kinda the point?”, the question seemed a bit weird because that was obviously the point for nobody to know about that except people with whom you felt wouldn’t do anything to you because of this. But you “let it slide” because it was probably the first time he was faced with this situation.

“Yes… Sorry I… I’m curious but yeah I should shut up.”

You laughed quietly and went back to your cookie you noticed on a shelve the Attack on Titan manga. You quickly finished to eat the cookie and pointed at the shelve, deciding it would be a good way to change the conversation and make it less awkward.

“You like manga?”

“Ah yes! My mom bought me the 1st tome for me to try and at first I was sceptic but I really enjoyed it! Did you read it?”

“Obviously! It’s like in my top 10 favourite manga!”

You grinned as you found another common interest apparently. You discussed about manga for a good ten minutes before you continued to work on the assignment. You had found maybe like 2 pages of sources when the time came for you to go back home. You started to gather your things and Zach did the same, putting everything on his computer.

You took your backpack and Zach accompanied you downstairs and to the front of his house.

“Hey, I can bring you back to your house if you want?”

“Oh, that would be awesome, really thanks a lot.”

He nodded and took his car keys and you sat next to him in the passenger seat, giving him your address so he could drive you. The ride was spent in discussing contrary to the earlier ride.

Once you arrived in front of your house you took your backpack and got out of the car, Zach doing the same. You looked at him curiously as he fiddled with his car keys.

“So… Y’know I wanted to say that erm… I don’t mind who are…”

“Zach what the fuck does this-“, you frowned at him, clearly he was acting weird and this sentence’s formulation was definitely a bit offensive. You weren’t being yourself for people to mind it.”

“I-I’m sorry. Shit I didn’t mean it like that! What I meant is like… I- fuck that.”

“Wha-?”

He took your face between his hands and kissed you. Your eyes widened comically, you didn’t knew he arbored those kind of feelings toward you. After a few seconds he freed you and was visibly blushing, just like you were feeling your face burning.

“I didn’t knew how to say that so… I really like you and-”

“Me too!”, you blurted and put your hand in front of your mouth as you saw him laugh gently at you.

“I’m really sorry if I hurt you earlier… I really didn’t want to say things like that…”

“I understand.. But be careful next time…”

“Yep I’ll do my searches to avoid any mishaps ever again! Can… I have your number maybe?”

“Of course!”

You took out your phone and exchanged numbers, you were biting your lower lips, happy with the ending of the day. His phone vibrated with what seemed with a message of his mother and he looked sadly at you.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow Zach;”

You smiled at him and he took you once again by surprise by giving you a peck on the lips before getting back in his car, leaving you here with a giddy smile and a fast-paced beating heart.

________________

A/N: Thanks for reading it! I hope you enjoyed my fic don’t hesitate to like and reblog! And if you want to support my writing please think about leaving me a tip on my Kofi

#zach dempsey #zach dempsey x reader #zach dempsey x male reader #male reader #trans male reader #alex standall #13rw x reader #zach dempsey x you #thirteen reasons why #reader insert #x male reader #x trans male reader #x trans reader #zach dempsey x trans reader

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shayyprasad · 6 days

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ᴄʟᴀʏ ᴊᴇɴꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

「 inbox | OPEN 」 ☆ 「 requests | OPEN 」

angst: ✮ fluff: ♡ hurt/comfort: ○ spicy/smut: ➳

series:

none yet!

drabbles/concepts:

none yet!

headcanons:

game - how you and clay became you and clay. (♡)

oneshots:

none yet!

updated 4/21/2024

#clay jensen x y/n #clay jensen fanfic #clay jensen imagine #clay jensen fluff #tom holland x reader #13rw self insert #13rw #13 reasons why #thirteen reasons why

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goattales · 5 years

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Overdue Intro!

Hi! My name for all intents and purposes is Goat, and this is my little slice inside of the male reader side of reader inserts! I take both fic and headcanon requests and I write for a huge variety of shows, but there’s more than listed bellow so if you’re curious about another show or a specific character, just drop an ask and I’ll let you know if I’ll write for them! I will write NS//FW stuff so I would prefer to keep this blog 18+, but at the end of the day if minors follow it’s at their discretion, however I would like to at least have everyone be over 16, please. Much like a couple other male reader blogs do Sinful Sunday, I’m gonna be doing Thirsty Thursday, which is a free-for-all thirst-fest for you to come and confess your deepest, darkest, dirtiest, thoughts to me, and maybe I can thirst along? But anyways! The shows and characters I write for are under the cut, cause this post got long, so feel free to click ‘read more’ and decide if you wanna stick around!

Shows/Characters I write for-

Peaky Blinders -Tommy Shelby -John Shelby

Glee -Sam Evans -Finn Hudson -Blaine Anderson -Will Schuster -Rory Flanagan

Divergent -Four/Tobias Eaton -Eric -Peter Hayes

Teen Wolf -Isaac Lahey -Stiles Stilinski -Danny Mahealani -Ethan Steiner -Aiden Steiner -Derek Hale -Peter Hale -Melissa McCall -Scott McCall

Midnight Texas -Bobo Winthrop -Manfred Bernardo -Joe Strong -Chuy Strong -Fiji Cavanaugh -Olivia Clarity -Lemuel Bridger

The Resident -Conrad Hawkins -Devon Pravesh -Mina Okafor

Chicago Fire -Matthew Casey -Kelly Severide -Brian Zvonecek -Joe Cruz -Christopher Herrmann -Peter Mills

Chicago PD -Jay Halstead -Adam Ruzek -Antonio Dawson -Kevin Atwater -Kim Burgess

House MD -Robert Chase

New Amsterdam -Max Goodwin -Maybe Floyd Reynolds (still not sure of his characterisation) -Helen Sharpe

Shadowhunters -Alec Lightwood -Jace (pick your fave last name tbh) -Magnus Bane -Simon Lewis -Luke Garroway -Raphael Santiago

Hemlock Grove -Peter Rumancek -Roman Godfrey

The Umbrella Academy -Klaus -Diego -Vanya

Shameless US -Lip Gallagher -Steve Wilton/Jimmy Lishman -Tony Markovich -Mickey Milkovich (Season 3 upwards) -Ian Gallagher (Season 3 upwards) -Kevin Ball

13 Reasons Why -Tony Padilla -Clay Jensen -Justin Foley -Tyler Down -Alex Standall -Zach Dempsey

Bones -Seeley Booth -Jack Hodgins -Temperance Brennan -Lance Sweets -Zack Addy -Angela Montenegro

Twilight -Jasper Hale -Emmett Cullen -Edward Cullen -Carlisle Cullen -Esme Cullen -Jacob Black (Breaking Dawn Onwards) -Sam Uley -Charlie Swan -Paul Lahote (Breaking Dawn Onwards)

Scorpion -Sylvester Dodd -Toby Curtis -Happy Quinn -Walter O’Brien

Stranger Things Steve Harrington Billy Hargrove Johnathan Byers

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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

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Thick And Thin (one-shot)

Synopsis: He never thought his wife would ever even think about divorce. They had problems, which is why they were at marriage counselling. But he never knew her heart had broken a long time ago. And he’d been the one to break it before they even got together.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: aaaaaaannnnggggssssttt baby, just wanted to write something that’d rip your heart out :)

Warnings: swearing, pain, kinda depressive (??), can’t think of anything else really, but please let me know if there is, also not my best work lol :D

Word count: 7102 (let’s start off the New Year with loads of pain :) )

Italics are flashbacks

“I want a divorce.”

Never in Harry’s life did he think he’d have to hear those words. Not after everything they’d been through, not after all of the effort he’d been putting in to save their relationship.

Those words had not only stunned him but their marriage councillor, the woman’s mouth open mid-word, as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Harry was fairing even worse. It was like his brain was short-circuiting, synapses broken and no longer sending any signals.

“Mrs Styles, I know it’s difficult,” the therapist tried to diffuse the situation. “But the reason you’re here is to avoid this specifically.”

“I don’t remember how you smell anymore,” Y/N continued not listening to the woman, voice like a black void, but her Y/E/C eyes rimmed with tears. “Or taste. I don’t remember how it feels to have you pressed up against me or what it’s like to hear your voice. I… I don’t have anything to cling onto anymore.”

“It’s why we're here!” he cried through clenched teeth, slipping on his knees before her, hands grasping Y/N’s in a vice-like grip. “It’s why we’re trying.”

The laugh she let out was detached and without any love. “We tried it your way, Harry.” She’d never called him Harry before. It was always Lover. “And it’s not working for me. It hasn’t from the start. We’re… we’re so unhappy. And I don’t want that for you or for me. We deserve happiness. But I don’t think we can give that to one another anymore.” She took in a shaky breath, looking down at Harry’s hands in her lap. “When I thought of it, at first I felt horrible. I wanted to throw myself off somewhere, but the more I sat on that thought, the more relieved I felt.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, didn’t want to believe it. “Relieved?” The word felt like acid in his mouth.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Relieved. Because this choice won’t make us hurt one another anymore. This gives us a chance to have a fresh start.”

“I don’t want a fresh start! We said – we said through thick and thin.” He was grasping onto the last straw he could find. “This is the thin, but we’ll get through it.”

“Harry, I already broke through the thin. And now I’m drowning. And when the thick comes, I’ll either be frozen under it and watch you walk further, or I’ll surface somewhere, and I don’t know on which side of the shore I’m gonna be on and where you’ll be. And if you try to get me, you’ll start drowning too. I don’t want that.”

“But that’s what marriage is! Going through the tough shit together!”

“Harry… I already asked Lionel to draw up the papers. The first draft is done.”

His blood froze in his veins.

“When you said to sit down and write one thing that makes me happy about the relationship,” Y/N was looking at the therapist now, “about the person, I – I couldn’t. Because I kept thinking back to the start, to the beginning. That’s what made me happy. But now…” She glanced at Harry. “If there was one thing, I couldn’t do to you, not in a moment like this, is lie. I just… I don’t remember how to be happy with you.”

***

They’d started out as the cliché of best-friends-lose-contact-only-to-be-reunited-and-not-let-their-chance-pass-by-and-fall-in-love. She was ten when she’d moved in next door to him and he was twelve when he’d seen the three vans full up to the house, a little girl hopping out from one of them. Harry watched as she rushed up the doorstep and put in a key, unlocking it and a new chapter of her life with it. Little did he know she’d unlocked a new chapter of his life as well.

She was the new kid at school, and despite the fact that he was a year above, he sat down next to her at lunch.

“ ’M ‘arry,” he said through a mouthful of a sandwich. “Saw you move in yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

And that was the start of a blooming friendship.

On her eleventh birthday, he gave her a handmade bracelet. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, making Harry blush all shades of pink and red.

He was thirteen when he had his first real kiss on his birthday. Y/N had simply tried to peck him on the cheek, but he’d turned his head, and her mouth had ended up on his. She’d walked away with a shy smile and ears on fire.

She was thirteen when a boy first asked her out. Harry was the first person she told him about it. That was the first time his heart broke.

When he was fifteen, he got his first girlfriend. Y/N was fourteen when her heart broke for the first time.

And then he'd gone on X-factor and with that forgotten about her. She called him, texted him, messaged him on social media, but usually, she’d maybe get only one picture or a small ‘miss you too’ as a response. So, after a whole year apart, she gave up. What was the point of trying to save anything when he didn’t want to?

He moved on and became an international superstar. Y/N moved on and graduated top of her class, got into her first-choice university, and graduated with a first as well. He had some relationships here and there, while Y/N had had a steady relationship since the second year of uni, but when she decided to go to a different one for her masters they amicably broke up.

Eight years later she was sitting at a café in London, laughing with her ex-boyfriend and catching up, as he explained how what Criminal Minds showed wasn’t really what was taught in his criminology degree classes.

“I’m still saying I dated real-life Spencer Reid,” Y/N chuckled, sipping on her gingerbread latte. “Don’t give a shit, I need something to flex with.”

Harry had then walked inside the café, shaking off the snow from his boots when a familiar laugh he hadn’t heard in ages invaded his senses. It was almost like he’d stepped into a dream.

When his green eyes befell on the owner of the voice, he had to take a double-take. Somehow in his brain, he’d expected the fifteen-year-old teenager, a t-shirt of his face on her body, as she’d cheered him on when he’d gone onto his first concert as part of One Direction to be sitting in the chair, not the grown-up woman.

He’d still checked in with Y/N through what she posted on her social media, but as much as he’d promised not to have the celebrity life sweep him away, it had. Harry sometimes had two concerts a day, and he barely had a moment to take a bite of food. And he hated to admit it, but Y/N simply slipped from his life. And he didn’t bother to put in the effort to pull her back.

A huge wave of guilt and longing rushed through his body as he glanced at the woman, her face lit up by joy as she and the man before her continued on with their conversation.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, making him turn around and face another customer. “You gonna order anything?”

For a moment Harry stuttered. He could walk away without inserting himself back into Y/N’s life, but he didn’t want that. He’d missed her. Harry didn’t even realise how much he’d missed her.

“You go ahead.” He motioned with his hand. “I’m still thinking.”

Harry took in a deep breath and then walked towards where the pair was sitting.

The man’s eyes flitted up to see who was towering over Y/N, only for them to widen, and his mouth hang open.

A sense of pride filled Harry's chest at the reaction and maybe quenched a little bit of the jealousy invading his body. He used to be the one who made Y/N laugh until she had to tell him to stop or she’d pee herself. He was back to take up the role.

“You okay there, Dan?” she chuckled. “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost behind my back. I told him not to walk out of the flat wit –“ Y/N had turned around and almost choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Harry! Oh – hi!” She jumped up hugging him, feeling how his body shook with laughter at her reaction, strong arms weaving around her middle. “Holy shit, it’s really you!”

“Yeah, ‘s me. Who else?”

“I didn’t know you were back in the UK.”

A warmth spread through his chest, as he reluctantly pulled away from the hug. “Been checking in on me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back down, but pulling up a third chair for Harry to sit upon. “Dan’s a huge fan.” She motioned with her head to the man. “When we first started dating, I thought he was only doing it because we used to be friends, and he hoped I’d set you up or something.”

Harry masked the choke of envy by clearing his throat and letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hope I’m not interrupting a date or something.”

“A catch-up date, but not a date date.” Dan lifted his brows at Y/N, who gave him a ‘don’t start this’ look to which he threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You’re being annoying, that’s what you are.” Y/N flicked a crumb from the table towards him.

It was in that moment that it truly hit how much he’d missed, and it hit him hard he no longer knew the person who once was his best friend.

“You’re different,” Harry said, looking over at her trying to keep the lump in his throat from making his voice break.

Y/N shrugged, eyes twinkling. “I mean it has been almost a decade. I do hope I don’t look the same as I did then. Otherwise, the pain of braces was of no use.”

“No,” he chuckled shaking his head. “’S not that… It’s like you’re a different person.”

“I grew up,” she said, sipping on the last bits of her drink. “ ’M not the same fifteen-year-old you saw last.”

He nodded and bit his lip. But the thing was, Harry wasn’t the stupid sixteen-year-old that left the fifteen-year-old her either. This time, he wouldn’t let the chance at happiness pass him by when he could’ve had it all along.

***

He sat across from Y/N at the large marble table and watched, heart bleeding out in his chest as she put her signature on the papers, her attorney fishing out something from his briefcase and handing it to her under the table. He saw her shoulders shudder before she placed a maroon rectangle with a golden inscription on it in her own purse. Harry wanted to vomit. It was her new passport, where her surname no longer matched his, where he no longer existed, inscribed into the document as her spouse.

“Mr Styles?” Y/N’s lawyer pushed the papers his way, the pen laying atop them. “’S your turn.”

‘Your turn’, as if it was a game of spin the bottle or UNO.

“Don’t make me,” he choked out, pleading with Y/N one last time. “Please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me give up on us.”

Her words were worse than a knife to his soul. “You can’t give up on something that’s no longer there.”

When they’d been at the stage of negotiation, he’d kept pushing for giving her at least half of his income, to give her one of the houses they owned together, but she’d turned everything down.

“I didn’t marry you for your money, Harry.” He’d expected her voice to be full of venom, but it wasn’t. It was sad, resigned. “I don’t want what you’ve earned.”

“Let me give you at least something.”

“I don’t want anything from you. If it makes you feel any better, you can donate whatever amount you wanted to give me. I don’t care. All I want from this is for you to sign the papers.”

“And if I can’t?”

Y/N sighed, looking down at the table. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

That’s when her attorney had cleared his throat. “Mrs Sty – Y/L/N. Legally, according to the prenup, you are entitled to half of Mr Styles estate as well as twenty percent of all his earnings.”

But Y/N just shook her head. “I only signed those documents because that’s what he and his agent wanted. I never asked for it or anything or the sort. Donate it, for all I care. Buy a new house, Harry I literally don’t want to know what you do with your money.” Y/N took in a sharp breath and calmed herself down. It’d been the first time Harry had heard any sort of emotion from her since she'd spoken those horrible words. “I just want this over with.”

And now, he was at the moment of the end. He just never thought their story would end with broken hearts and ripped up futures.

His handwriting was barely legible at best of times, but right now it seemed as if a toddler had tried to forge it with how much his hand shook. When the pen dropped, so did his shoulders, and he saw Y/N’s drop as well.

Harry’s with weight from the love lost, Y/N’s with relief, for now their broken hearts wouldn’t hurt one another no longer.

His lawyer handed him over a new passport as well, where Y/N was no longer written as his spouse. The urge to rip it to shreds was almost uncontainable. He hated it more than the divorce papers.

***

They’d been dating for a little over two years when he decided to propose, only every plan he had was miserably ruined by some outside force.

The first time he’d decided he’d do it at a romantic dinner. Harry had found out Y/N wasn’t a fan of huge romantic gestures, so he wouldn’t get on one knee and draw everyone’s attention. He’d simply take her hand in his, kiss her fingers and ask.

But as they’d sat at the table enjoying their meal and talking, he noticed Y/N become quieter and quieter. A frown morphed on his face.

“You alright, Lovie?”

“Umm,” Y/N’s brow creased even more, and she dropped her fork. “I umm I don’t know. ‘M feeling kind of funky?”

“What’dya mean?”

“I – “ Y/N opened her mouth but didn’t manage to get anything else out as she jumped up and rushed towards the ladies room.

Harry quickly dropped his own utensils and rushed after her, not bothering with the yells of the woman who was looking at herself in the mirror, while his girlfriend threw up her guts inside one of the toilets.

A member of the staff had run to see what all the commotion was about, but when he saw Y/N half inside a stall, half outside, Harry’s hands keeping her hair away from her face, he went back out and immediately grabbed the first aid kit they had in the kitchen, handing it to Harry along with a cold wet towel.

Y/N shuddered, leaning against the stall wall sweat glistening on her face, as he pressed the damp cloth against her skin. She gave him half a smile. “Told you not to get the shrimp.”

“I’ll get the cab, Lovie.” He smoothed away the once meticulously styled hair, which was now stuck to her damp skin.

But she shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to puke again.”

In the end, she threw up two more times, her stomach really not agreeing with the entrée. The waiters kept apologising the whole time, and the chef had stopped cooking, the restaurant immediately taking action and refunding everyone who’d ordered anything with shrimps in them.

When they’d gotten back home, Y/N was so tired and felt so sick, Harry could only help her get out of the dress, clean her up with a warm towel and wrap her up in her favourite pyjamas before curling up together on his bed and falling asleep, making sure if there was a moment, she felt nauseous again, he was by her side. She needed his help more than he needed to propose.

***

He threw himself into his work like a madman. Day and night, he was either at a studio, on a filming lot, in between meetings or interviews. The media buzzed about how his marriage had fallen apart, even though Y/N hadn’t made a statement or spoken a word to anyone, and neither had Harry. But he guessed the emptiness of his ring finger gave everything away.

He refused, however, to speak on it. As painful as it was, he was still in love with Y/N. She hadn’t chosen to be in the spotlight, it was Harry’s world, not hers, so he respected her decision to be quiet and remained so himself, save for one single post his management had asked for him to put up. It'd also been the last time he'd spoken to her.

All he received was a simple text message 'do what you have to do'.

A couple of months down the line though, something came up, and Harry couldn’t keep his tongue behind his teeth.

It was an article in The Sun, a photograph of Y/N plastered all over the front page with the words ‘Gold-digger Y/L/N finally seen out after divorce with Harry Styles.” He’d snatched the paper right off the stand and flipped it open, frantic green eyes scanning the words.

‘Despite it only being two months since the two childhood ex-best friends broke up, Y/N Y/L/N was already seen in the company of a man, sharing a drink, and giving one another flirtatious smiles. An inside source tells us, how she hadn’t even been that upset about the divorce and has been going out and having fun with many male companions, one of them being her ex-boyfriend from university times.’

‘Harry Styles, known for his time in the pop boyband One Direction and for his solo endeavours in music as well as dabbling in acting, broke everyone’s belief in true love after being seen in public without a ring. This prompted an announcement that the four-year relationship and two-year marriage to who was once his best friend had ended and the two had decided to get a divorce. Although the post showed a picture of their silhouettes holding one another with their foreheads together, and his statement showed nothing but love and respect for his then-wife, sources say Y/N had been controlling and obsessive over her then-husband and hadn’t wanted him to leave to pursue his career, stifling his growth.’

He didn’t bother to read any further, as he pulled out his phone, calling Jeff immediately to figure out how to make all of it go away, how to do at least one thing right.

“They’re dragging her name through the mud!” he sneered, not even caring he was bumping shoulders with people, and if the paparazzi would dare spin a story of the state he was in at that moment, he’d sue each and every one of them personally. “I have to do something. Fuck, Jeff, I love her! I can’t let them paint her like this. Y/N – “ he choked back a lump. “She never asked for this. Didn’t ask for anything. And that man – that was Dan, okay. I know him. Yes, he’s her ex, but they don’t know anything!”

“Harry I’ve sent them cease-and-desist letters already.” Jeff tried to ease him. “But… she’s no longer your concern Har.”

The words hit him like a bullet and ripped a hole in his chest just like one of them would. “You might still love her,” Jeff’s voice was solemn. “But Y/N is no longer yours to protect.”

“I can’t just let them talk shit about her,” Harry whispered back.

His friend sighed on the other side of the line. “I know. Which is why we’ll deal with it. But you have to start letting her go.”

***

The second time Harry wanted to propose was about a month later, and Christmas was right around the corner. They’d decided that Christmas Eve would be spent with his sister, her boyfriend and Anne, while Christmas Day they’d go to Y/N’s side of the family.

Although they’d settled on one gift each, Harry had been carrying around that small box for what felt like an eternity. And it wouldn’t really be a gift, given how he’d wrap it and hang it in the tree.

“It’s an ornament,” he’d say to her, a smug smile on his lips, as Y/N would roll her eyes at him. “Just because it has your name on it, doesn’t mean it’s immediately a present.”

And then she’d open it, and would gasp, and Harry would slide down on his knee, press a kiss to her ring-free finger before asking that fateful question.

But just like before, his plan didn’t come to fruition.

He’d asked his mother to hang up the little box, so there was no chance of Y/N seeing it in his hands, but what he hadn’t thought of was Gemma’s boyfriend had decided on the exact same plan of action.

When Michal had dropped down on his knee, Harry’s sister’s trembling hand in his, he couldn’t do that to them. As much as he wanted to marry Y/N, he couldn’t take away Gemma’s moment. So while Y/N was preoccupied with looking at the gleaming diamond on Gemma’s finger, Harry plucked down the box from where it’d hung and placed it on the side no one could see, before he could put it in his bag.

“ ’M sorry, honey,” Anne had said to him over coffee the next morning. “I didn’t know Michal would do that.”

He’d just shaken his head, no hurt in his heart. “Great minds think alike. Our moment will come. ‘M happy for Gem. Besides, if he hadn’t done that anytime soon, I would’ve needed to have a stern talking.”

***

What his sister said to him made him think he had to be living in a simulation, because it couldn’t be true. Y/N couldn’t be getting married. Not this soon. Not ever. Not to someone who wasn’t him. It had been barely a year since he’d signed the death sentence to his own happiness.

Harry shook his head. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying, Gem.”

“I’m not.” Her voice broke as she said it. “I saw her at a café. Saw the ring… the man who gave it to her. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

His mind reeled with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. Was that why she’d really divorced him? Had she been cheating on him and just needed an excuse out of their relationship to jump into the new one? He was away so much on their relationship, he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone else had swooped in and tried to win her heart.

Harry’s mind was one of the greatest things he’d been blessed him, but also one of the worst curses bestowed upon him, as it weaved a story of Y/N and the man who’d now put a gleaming ring on her finger.

He was away, like always, doing something he could do another time. She was on her own, keeping their bed warm with just her body, fighting for their relationship on her own, while he made plans once more to go to a different part of the world and leave her behind again.

Y/N pulled herself out of the bed, sighing and rubbing her face. She opened their closet only to be greeted with Harry’s half empty. Maybe that was the moment she decided to find someone who’d fill it and wouldn’t leave it permanently empty, Harry conjured up.

She’d dress in a soft jumper and some jeans, a large cardigan hanging over her body and would go to a café for her morning drink. And that’s where she’d meet him. The stranger that would take her out of the lonely life she’d been living. The stranger that would make a smile bloom on her face and her heart stutter once more. The stranger who would show her the love Y/N deserved to have.

Harry had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts before they ventured into a worse territory.

No. Y/N wasn’t like that. No matter what, she would never cheat on him. She had enough dignity for herself and respect for him, even though in his own mind, Harry didn’t think he deserved it.

Although he didn’t have a right to, nor was it the sanest move (and if someone saw him doing it, there would probably be a slew of articles), Harry got into his car and drove to where Y/N’s apartment was, and when she opened the door after hearing seven loud knocks, he stepped inside without even waiting for her to invite him.

“You’re getting married?”

She crossed her arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

“It’s been barely a year! I refuse to believe you’ve moved on so fast.”

Maybe he was kidding himself, and Y/N truly had, but as much as their marriage had fallen apart, he did have the honour of having known her and having figured some things out deeper than others would.

Y//N scoffed. “I was proposed to. And I said yes.” The words were like venom entering his veins. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t have agreed to it. And as I already said – it is none of your concern.”

Harry stood there, watching as she dragged a hand down her face, eyes flitting everywhere he wasn’t. It told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re not happy,” he whispered stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I know how you shine when you’re truly happy. This isn’t it. Why are you doing this?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Harry was so confused, at a complete loss at what Y/N was saying. “So, you’ll what? Get married to him and be miserable? Why the hell did you divorce me then?”

Y/N sighed. “Being unhappy with him isn’t as unbearable as being unhappy with you. Because with you, I know what it feels like to truly fully loved. Which is why it broke me when you stopped.”

“I never stopped!” Harry whisper yelled, anger coursing through his veins at her words, because they were lies. “Why do you think I dragged us to marriage counselling? Why do you think I kept fighting for us? For you?! You were the one that gave up!”

“You weren’t there when I needed you.”

Harry blinked rapidly, not understanding what she meant.

“You left me for ten years. You forgot all about me until that day at the café. Not once did you message me or call me or even send fucking snail mail. I was the one putting in all the effort, I was the one who was trying to keep you in my life, but you didn’t want it. Just like it was when we were married.”

Rage bubbled under the surface, but he kept it at bay. That was not how he’d get Y/N back. “How?” he asked calmly. “How did I not want it?”

She scoffed shaking her head. “It was the same as it was ten years ago. With the movie, the new album... You were always at the studio or hanging out with your castmates. When I asked for you to free up one night, one single night, you didn’t come back until three AM, drunk off your ass, and I had to take care of you. I asked for one night. And you didn’t even give me that. So forgive me for not feeling like you still loved me.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?!”

“I did!” This was the first time he’d ever heard Y/N yell, before kneading her lips tightly together and then continuing more quietly. “But you never heard me. Not really. You heard what I asked, and promised to be there, but when the time came… something more important always came up. Something that always deserved to have the promise you gave me to be broken.” Y/N gave him a sad smile. “Do you remember when you first asked me out? And I said no?”

Harry nodded. “You said that we just got one another back and didn’t want to have anything rip us apart again. Didn’t even want to chance it.”

“And you said it was exactly why I should give us a chance. That we’d finally found one another again and shouldn’t let the opportunity go…” She tilted her head. “Guess we should’ve listened to me. I included.”

He couldn’t believe her. “Is that really your takeaway here? You were right?”

“But I was.” Y/N shrugged. “Look at where we are now. You forgot me for basically ten years.” She shrugged, stepping away. “Give it some time, and you’ll forget me for the rest of your life. Besides, we’ve not known one another longer than we have. So, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Why did you then? Go out with me?” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “Get married to me?”

For a moment Y/N just looked at him, Y/E/C eyes boring into his green ones. “Because I’d once again convinced myself I was important to you, just like I did when we were teens. And in my head, I had dreamt up that maybe I’d be important enough for you not to forget me.”

***

The third time did the charm though.

They were both sleepy, under the covers of Harry’s bed, eyes barely keeping open as they were determined to finish Elf.

Y/N had her cheek pressed against his chest, bare body next to his naked one. She hated sleeping in pyjamas (unless they were staying over at one of their parent’s places,) because she said it made her feel like the clothes were suffocating her. Harry didn’t like sleeping with pyjamas because all he wanted was to fully feel the skin of his lover next to his.

Snow fell behind the large windows of his London penthouse apartment, covering the city in a white blanket. It rarely snowed there, so he watched with warmth in his heart as the flakes fluttered to the ground.

It was all so calm, so serene, that Harry realised that’d been the moment he’d been waiting for. No need for fancy dinners or present it as a loud gift. Being together was a gift enough.

“Lovie?” he asked, nose hidden in her hair. “You awake?”

All he received in answer was a small hum. She was on the verge of passing out, but this was the moment, so, he whispered the question, voice so low as if he was asking the dark to marry him not Y/N.

He couldn’t look at her, afraid of what she might say, afraid she might say no, think back to the times he wasn’t there for her, think of all the reasons why he wasn’t good enough for her, and would only bring her sorrow.

“Lover.” Her voice was as soft as a summer’s morning. “Look at me. Please.”

It was one of the most frightening things in his life, as he did so.

Y/E/C eyes met green. What he saw on her face allowed his heart to calm down a little.

“Is the Sun the closest star to us?”

That he hadn’t expected. “What?”

“Does it rise in the East and set in the West?”

“Y-yes?”

Her hand cupped his cheek, and he melted against her. “Then why are you asking me a question you know the answer will be the same as to those?”

“Can I put the ring on your finger then?” He was more excited than about anything in his life.

Y/N shook her head, bringing his lips to brush against hers. “Don’t need a ring. Just need you to kiss me.”

***

The wedding was far away from the city so that no one from the press could even think about following her or her entourage. The guest list was small, compared to the three hundred people Harry’s and her wedding had had.

Anne had told him not to go. He wasn’t invited, and neither was she or Gemma, for obvious reasons. As much as Y/N loved them, she knew it’d hurt the two women, but it would hurt Harry more. So seeing her stepping out of the car, dressed in a cream wedding gown, a veil covering her face, made flashbacks appear behind Harry’s eyelids.

She’d worn an off-white gown before as well, dusty rose to be exact. And Harry’s bow tie had matched it. Y/N had never liked the thought of wearing white at her wedding.

“Listen, if it’s white, I’ll most definitely spill something on it,” she’d told him as both of them had been flipping through some wedding magazines. “You know me. But if it’s some other colour, there’s a bigger chance no one will notice when that happens.”

It didn’t seem right to him. It was like a bad fever-dream like he’d had that one time, and Y/N had had to listen to him babble about the hallucinations dancing in front of him because of the high temperature.

Her gaze remained on the ground, or maybe on the bucket of white roses in her hands. She hated white roses.

A woman in a pale blue dress straightened out the back of Y/N’s dress and the train of it, and he watched as her mother came to stand beside her daughter, giving her an elbow to grasp onto.

All he wanted was for Y/N to be happy, and it hurt to think it wasn’t with him because Harry believed it was supposed to be him.

He took in a shaky breath and got out of the car just as Y/N had walked up the steps and disappeared behind the double doors.

It was going to be him.

***

Harry knew he wasn’t the best husband in the world. He was away for a lot of time, and as conceited of an excuse it was, his job did entail going out to parties, mingling with other people living the high life, and being seen with certain celebs.

Y/N was never one for it. She always supported Harry, but she didn’t like going out and spending time with people who didn’t care for her existence. Well, maybe they did, but only in a sense that she’d been the lucky bitch who’d snagged up the Harry Styles.

But if there was something Harry did was love, and he loved wholeheartedly, which is why it absolutely destroyed him when he’d gotten back home one evening and heard Y/N crying in their bathroom.

She’d never tell him, but it was because no longer did his pillow smell like him. Harry had been away for so long, that the essence of him that’d soaked into their sheets was no longer there. And it broke her to pieces.

When he’d get home, he’d be so tired, he’d crash on the couch, only tiptoeing his way into their shared room to go to his closet and get some clean clothes in the morning. He’d look over at his sleeping wife and allow a blissful smile to bloom on his face at the sight.

He was so lucky to have Y/N back in his life. He was so lucky she’d accepted him and fallen for him as he’d fallen for her. He’d silently move over and press a kiss to her temple, before going back down and off to work once more. Only he wouldn’t see the dried tears on her cheeks.

So, when he’d found her curled up in the tub, hands in her hair, face hidden by her knees, frame trembling like leaves in a storm, he instantly dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his bones, as he pulled Y/N into him.

“I can’t, Harry,” she choked out, shaking her head. He knew it was bad. She never called him by his name. “I can’t do this. I’m so alone. Even when you’re here, I’m alone.”

Harry had had his heart broken before, and always he wondered afterwards if someone took it out of his chest at that moment, what kind of a sound would it make. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it’d be as silent as the tears running down his face at Y/N’s confession.

“Maybe,” he swallowed harshly trying to keep his whole body from shaking, from showing the fear her statement instilled in him. “Maybe we need couple’s therapy.”

“What?” her eyebrows had shot up to the middle of the forehead.

“Y/N, we’re clearly having problems. I – I know I need to work on things, but you’re also not telling me how you’re feeling. Maybe we just need some help.”

She didn’t really know what to respond. In her mind, Y/N had somehow conjured up an image that if she ever got married, they’d be happy. Sure, they’d fight and have rows, but they’d always be able to work things out on their own. Not once in her life, did she ever think she’d need to go and see a marriage counsellor to help her save her marriage.

Her own parents much like Harry’s had gotten divorced. Hers had tried therapy. It’d been their last resort. It didn't work. So, when he’d mentioned it to her, that’s what made her decide it was truly over.

Y/N nodded, bringing him in for a hug, and felt his body melt into hers with relief.

She’d try, for Harry, but her mind was already made up.

***

So he stood outside the doors, listening for the line of ‘if there is anyone who opposes this union speak up now, or forever hold your peace’. His hand grasped the handle, ready to push, but… he couldn’t. He’d ruined her happy ever after once before. He couldn’t do that again to her.

Tears streamed down his face as he pocketed his hands and ventured away from the ceremony. The ceremony where the love of his life was promising to cherish someone else, to fight through thick and thin with someone else, to make someone else happy, while her own happiness suffered.

Harry sat in his car, waiting for her to exit, a smile on her face as she’d hold the hand of who now was her husband. That'd be the moment he'd let go of her. But when the doors sprung open, she was alone, hands clutching onto the front of her dress, as she rushed down the steps and back inside the car she’d arrived in.

For a second he sat in his vehicle, stunned beyond belief at what had happened, at what, as horrible as it sounded, he hoped had happened. When a man, hand in his hair ran outside as well, the same woman in the pale blue dress rushing out with him, Harry knew.

He was basically a madman on the road, breaking almost every possible law as he tried to catch up to the car Y/N had jumped in.

His mind raced with the possibilities of where she could’ve gone. The airport, her family’s summer house in Winchester, honestly anywhere in the world, but Harry shut up his mind, and allowed his heart to make the decision.

It didn’t seem like Y/N had premeditated fleeing from her wedding, which meant she’d need her stuff. And that meant going to her apartment as quickly as possible before someone came to look for her.

The way he parked was probably illegal leaving the car basically in the middle of the road, but Harry didn’t care much as he frantically rushed up the steps of her apartment complex. He was scared that if he knocked, she wouldn’t open, thinking it might be someone from the wedding, but he didn’t need to be afraid of it, as he saw Y/N, her hair still styled as it had been for the ceremony, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a suitcase in hand exiting from the flat.

“Why didn’t you do it?” he breathlessly asked, startling her and making her drop the keys.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped closer, hand cupping her cheek, insides trembling from all of the emotions coursing through his body. “Why didn’t you do it? Marry him? Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I – “ Y/N choked on her words. “I couldn’t say yes. It didn’t feel right.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t you, I was saying yes to.”

That was all Harry needed to kiss her like he'd done once before. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go. He’d made that mistake twice. He would never repeat it again.

“I love you,” he cried through a laugh. “I love you. I love you. I love you. And I’m never letting you slip through my fingers ever again.”

“How can you even think about loving me again after what I did to us?” she asked, pulling away from his lips.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re talking like I ever stopped. Through thick and thin. It’s what we promised. Think and thin, my Lovie."

***

A sixteen-year-old Harry and a fifteen-year-old Y/N laid outside in the grass of Harry’s garden; eyes trained onto the dark night starlit sky above. It was the day before his life changed forever as did hers.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Harry asked, trying to catch a glimpse of a shooting star.

Y/N scrunched up her nose. “No. I don’t think I do. And I don’t think I want one.”

“Why not?”

“What if they’re old and in their thirties? Or dead?”

Harry snorted at her response.

“And you?” Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Do you believe in soulmates?

He bit his lip and nodded. “I think I do. I think it’s two people who’ve been brought together, and no matter what happens will find their way to one another. Through thick and thin.”

"And what if one of them breaks the other's heart?"

"That's the thin." He looked at her. "And you don't give up then. It's when you need to love them even more."

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

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Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: Happy 2021 everyone! Hopefully things are better this year, and everyone stays safe and sound.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my fics on other platforms without specific written permission. Reblogs are a okay :)