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mermaidgirl30 · 1 month

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✨Run Rabbit✨

A/N: This idea literally came out of nowhere today, so I had to hurry and write it real quick! This idea is based off the song “Run, Rabbit Run!” by Flanagan and Allen. The song would not leave my head, and then I got this image of Joel chasing reader through an abandoned mansion. This one is a tad bit dark, but I hope you enjoy! If you liked this work, please think of reblogging and leaving me comments 🩷 Thank you to @ozarkthedog for being my beta 🥰

Summary: At the beginning of every month, you meet Joel to play a little game of hide and seek at the abandoned mansion near Jackson. It’s not just any game of hide and seek though. It’s dark and it’s twisted. If he catches you, he gets to do whatever he wants with you.

Pairing: Dom! Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Possessive Joel, hide and seek, cat and mouse, Joel chases reader until he finds her, Jackson! Joel, outbreak! Joel, smut, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v, cream pie, dirty talk

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The air is suffocating, the black walls are covered in regret and years of cigarette stench. The dim lights seem to shine down on you like a spotlight as you run as fast as you can through the lavish house. You can hear him calling you, stalking you in the dark shadows like a starving dog hunting to devour fresh meat.

“Can’t run from me forever, darlin’. You keep on runnin’, but I’ll eventually find you,” he chuckles as his deep voice reverberates around the echoing halls.

You cover your mouth, keeping your body down as you run run run past the expensive statues and monumental paintings of the abandoned mansion. Your throat is on fire the longer you run, your body aching like that of a dying man on his last breath of life. Your legs feel like they’ll give way at any second, but you have to keep going. You can’t give up. Not yet. Not when he’s right on your tail.

Tired. You’re so very tired, yet you keep running. Dragging your hollow body down the vine covered corridors of the wide hallways as you gasp for fresh air in your watered down lungs.

You fly around a narrow corridor and nearly trip yourself on a bed of dark green vines that bite at your ankles, threatening to take you down as Joel draws closer to you.

You can feel his overbearing presence, can taste the whiskey that bleeds inside his thick veins, can feel his large body already crowding yours as if he’s already caught you. He hasn’t caught you yet, but you know he will. He always catches you.

This was all a game. A dark, twisted game that started on a cold night in December. You remember the first time he chased you, the first time he tore through all your clothes the minute he captured you and devoured your entirety on that pitch black night. Now, every first Saturday of each month you’d meet him back at this abandoned mansion to play his little game. He called it hide and seek, you called it a deadly game of cat and mouse because you were the mouse, and cats always caught their prey.

It’s like you two are stuck in a never ending dance, two souls completely consumed in the other as you spin in circles until one of you collapses. You shouldn’t keep coming back, shouldn’t want to play his dark little games, but yet you come. Every single time, you come, unable to face the reality of a month without his touch, his taste, his growls. You’d let the man do as he wanted because how could you resist those charming, big brown eyes? You couldn’t, you just couldn’t. You were a moth drawn to a flame, and he was the brightest, most dangerous flame of all. Something you wanted to forever be branded by.

Joel Miller was a fucking menace of society, but he was your menace. So you’d continue the game until one of you stopped breathing.

“Where are you, little lamb?” he calls as your breath scorches the vine covered walls. You continue running, twisting around dark corners, running down stone steps, and hiding behind crimson curtains.

The next wooden door you come upon is locked tight. No amount of shaking the golden handle or hurling your body into the door will make it budge. You turn your head from side to side. The only way out is from the way you came. The hallway that he is in. Fuck.

You gulp down a silent breath and make a run for it, even though you know he’ll be there waiting like a prowling wolf.

You take careful steps down the marble hallway and sneak around the cold corner until you see his dark silhouette shining against the reflective flooring. You gasp as your eyes go wide, but before you can run he reaches out a long arm and clasps tightly to your wrist.

“There ya are, little lamb. Thought you’d get away from me this time?” he smirks as he wraps his calloused fingers tightly around you and tries to pull you in.

“Haven’t caught me just yet,” you laugh as you somehow manage to slip out of his grip and make a run for it.

You run down some slippery stone steps and end up at the back of the mansion with vine covered long corridors and twisting mazes of green bushes. You run as fast as you can as the wind sweeps through your long hair, letting the brisk wind set your adrenaline on fire.

You manage one glance back and see just how fast he’s creeping up on you. He’s like a lion running after a gazelle, the hunter about to attack the prey with its bare claws. And he will destroy his prey.

You take a few more steps, but then you feel a hand claw at your shoulder. He takes you down on the hard floor as you come crashing down to the pit of your doom. Pain radiates through your body, but you brush it off as you crawl forward, trying to escape the man that will take you as his own.

“Where do ya think you’re goin’, pretty thing?” he asks darkly as he wraps a hand around your ankle and tugs you in his direction. You hear a squeak escape your mouth like a trapped mouse that just got caught by a giant cat.

“I’m running away from you,” you answer back as you kick and try to squirm out of his reach.

He obviously has other plans because he drags you back underneath him and turns you flat on your back as he pins your hands above your head, his hips and large thighs caging you in so you can’t break free. He won this round, like he always did.

“Didn’t think I’d catch you so soon, little lamb,” he chuckles deeply as the weight of his body hangs over yours entirely.

“You just caught me off guard,” you sigh as you see his dark chocolate eyes honing in on yours. They’re so captivating, so damn pretty that you can’t look away. He’s so gorgeous even when you should find him intimidating.

“Now you’re mine,” he smirks as his chocolate eyes become darker, more blown out as he hovers his plush lips over yours. “Just what am I gonna do to you tonight, hmm?” he asks as lust fills the void of his dark eyes, making you squirm with anticipation already. You know what you want. You want him.

“Maybe I should be a little rough with you, hmm? That what you want?” he asks with the tick of his sculpted jaw, his thick eyebrow raising as he looks at you like he just won the most valuable prize in town.

You shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be feeding his sick mind as he plays his dark games, but you can’t help it. You want it just as bad as he does. You want him to be rough with you.

You look at him with wide eyes and smirk right back at him, challenging his dominant side to give in. “So be rough with me,” you whisper back.

You see his dark eyes grow large with need as he huffs out through his nostrils. “Open,” he demands as he grabs a hold of your jaw and squeezes, just enough for your lips to part open slightly. He bends his head down and inhales deeply as he spits into your mouth as you feel the warm spit cover your tongue.

“Swallow,” he growls as you fully oblige. You close your mouth and swallow as you taste his spit slide down your throat. All hot and moist as you taste him in the back of your throat. And somehow you think it’s so goddamn hot.

“Good girl,” he praises as he shifts his weight down and starts unbuttoning your faded denim jeans.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl for me, right?” he asks as he starts to drag the denim down your legs, feeling a wave of slick slide down your lace panties as your adrenaline kicks in.

“Mhm,” you nod as you watch him strip your legs bare, next going to tear off your sticky pink t-shirt while he hovers over the fine lace of your bra, his calloused fingers circling your back as he slowly undoes the clasps.

“Gonna let me taste every inch of you, little lamb? Gonna let me fuck you till you can’t take anymore?” he asks as he undoes the last clap and slowly starts to slide the bra free, leaving your full breasts exposed to the chilly night air. The only thing left is your slick covered panties, and then you'll be completely bare.

“Yes,” you breathe as he cups your breasts and slides his tongue along the crook of your neck, all teeth and tongue as he nips and bites at your flesh.

You can’t help the burn, can’t help the absolute need that courses through your body as his weight encompasses your chest. His hot breath bleeds into your lungs and it’s as if you can breathe fresh air for the first time. His woodsy, whiskey scent makes you dizzy as he slides his wet tongue along your bottom lip as he hovers his weight above you. He’s like a wolf that comes to feed on you in the night, and you’ll gladly let him devour you whole.

He snakes his hand down your abdomen and slides his hand underneath your ruined panties as he presses his thumb in between your folds, collecting slick as you groan at the feel of him spreading you wide.

“Open up, darlin’. Wanna give you a taste,” he whispers. He slides his thumb in your mouth, and you press your tongue around it, tasting the sweet saltiness of your own arousal as you let it slide down your throat.

He opens his mouth and sucks the rest of the slick off as he moans at the taste of you in his system. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, darlin’. Wanna just eat you up,” he groans as he hovers his lips back over yours, inching closer and closer until you’re practically begging him to drop down on your lips.

“Please,” you whine as your hands fist at his green flannel shirt, desperate for him to get closer to you.

“Please what?” he smirks as his dark eyes weigh into yours, pools of lust overflowing the edges as his pupils now expand into complete darkness. A predator about to eat his prey up entirely.

You have to use all your strength to get any words out, desperate for his touch. “Take me, all of me,” you plead as your eyes search his black pits that burn you alive.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take it all,” he smirks.

Before you have time to respond, he drops his lips on yours and fists your hair as he tugs hard and pries your lips apart as he slots in his wet tongue. He glides his tongue against yours and circles your mouth as you moan against him and drink his whiskey breath down.

He breaks apart from your mouth and nips playfully down your neck as he kneads your breasts together. His tongue comes down to circle each nipple, bringing them to life as they harden and pebble for him as you writhe underneath him in pleasure.

His experienced hands are everywhere, burning your skin alive as he skates his calloused fingers up and down your glistening body that’s now caked in sweat. He shoves your legs apart and slides the lace down your legs as he sits back and examines your entire naked body that’s on full display just for him. Glistening skin and slick coated folds splay out in front of him, and he looks like a mad man the way he’s looking at you.

His nostrils flare as his eyes grow wide, the big black pits scavenging your body as he drags a hand through his thick salt-and-pepper scruff as he groans out a heated response. “Goddamn, little lamb. You’re so fuckin’ wet and ready for me. I can hardly stand it,” he moans as he slides between your legs and pushes your thighs apart, his calloused fingers spreading your folds apart as he spits down in between them and starts running meticulously up and down your open folds as he starts circling your clit slowly.

You moan and writhe underneath his fingers, but he just presses a big hand to your stomach and holds you still as he works his fingers up and down your soaked pussy. And it feels so good that you want to crawl out of your own skin as the flames alight in your lower regions.

“Fuck,” you moan as he licks a thick strip from your dripping hole all the way to the top of your clit as his nose brushes against the coarse hair that sits above your clit. He inhales a large whiff of you as he groans and wraps his arms around your thighs as he holds you down against the cool ground.

“That’s right, little lamb. Gonna have you screamin’ my name by the time I get done with you,” he chuckles darkly as he dives back in.

His tongue devours you as he slides it up and down, drawing tight circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves as he sucks you deep into his mouth. He glides his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole and works them in and out as he curls up and hits your spongy walls again and again as his tongue feasts on your clit and his fingers go knuckle deep into your pussy.

Your eyes start to roll back as your head hits the hard floor, your body feeling like it’s floating on a cloud as hot heat starts to slide down the base of your spine. Close, you’re so close. Almost there.

He growls up at you as he demands your attention right now. “LOOK AT ME,” his voice echoes off the vine covered walls as his dominance sheds through the dim light of the hallway.

Your eyes snap up to find blown out dark pupils looking up at you as he sucks you in his mouth expertly. His nail beds dig into your thighs as one of his fists sit knuckle deep in your pussy. You’ve never seen him so wild, so much like a starving wolf that it makes more slick slide down his fingers as he pumps in and out of your drenched walls.

He pops your bundle of nerves out of his mouth as he gives you one more long lick as he growls up at you with pure dominance in his words. “Come for me, little lamb. Want ya to scream my name, tell me just who’s makin’ you feel good. Come on, darlin’. Show me how you break,” he smirks as he quickens the pace of his fingers and drops back on your clit as he circles circles circles until you’re seeing stars in your vision.

“Joel, I’m gonna… gonna,” you whine as you feel your orgasm start to break apart.

“Go on. Come for me. Be a good girl now and obey,” he growls as he pulls you back into his mouth while his fingers press up into the spongy walls as you feel yourself coming hard for him.

You clench up around his fingers and feel slick start to rain down his fingers onto your thighs as you throw your head back and scream his name as your moans echo through the long, dim lit corridor. Your body feels like white noise washing through it as your toes curl and your fingers slide through his tousled curls.

He groans as your fingers dig into his scalp while he licks up every inch of spilt slick in between your thighs. You feel your high start to come down as you take nice, deep breaths and focus on the buzzing in your ears.

Joel sits on his knees and views the mess that he made in between your legs as you splay across the floor with your legs still wide open for him. He must enjoy the view because he can’t keep his hungry eyes off you.

“Such a good girl, you know that? Now, gonna let me take ya all the way? Gonna let me fuck ya now, sweetheart?” he smirks as he starts unbuttoning his green flannel shirt, undoing the buttons quickly as he slides it off his thick arms and throws it in a heap next to the vine covered wall. His rock hard abs sit glistening in the night light while a happy trail of dark, coarse hair sits just above the waist of his jeans in a v shape. It makes you want to get on your hands and knees and crawl to him as you beg to have just a little taste of him.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,” you moan as you push your breasts together as your center feels on fire for him.

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck ya deep, little lamb,” he smirks as he knits his eyebrows together in concentration.

He unbuttons his dark jeans and threads the leather belt through his belt loops while he shoves his jeans and boxers down his legs while he stands and hovers over you with his hard cock hitting the base of his hairy stomach as the tip sits weeping and swollen, just waiting to get inside you.

You lick your lips together and stare at the swollen tip as saliva starts to coat your mouth. You can practically taste the salt on your tongue, can almost feel the precum sliding down your throat as you beg him for just one more taste. He looks so delicious, and you want to just eat him right up.

He smirks down at you as he sees you staring at his thick cock that screams your name. “Want a taste, little lamb?” he smirks as you nod your head mindlessly.

“Get over here then and do somethin’ ‘bout it,” he demands as he pulls you up by your hair and plants you on your knees in front of his large body.

“Go on then. Let me see how good you can choke on this cock, darlin’.” He flashes his pearly whites at you and wraps his fingers around your hair as you take your hand and start sliding it up and down as you spread the precum all over his thick length.

You lick the tip lightly and swirl around slowly as you tease him while your hand works up and down the base of him. “Fuck, there ya go,” he groans as you take him inside your mouth as you taste salty goodness drip down your throat. You take him deeper as you choke on him, feeling the drool coat his cock as you go back and forth on him slowly.

He grabs tighter to your hair and starts to fuck up into your mouth as you feel him bottom out at the base of your throat as it constricts around his thick length. You choke and gag around his length as he deep throats you over and over again. Your vision blurs as the tears lick at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t care. You love when he chokes you out, when his cock is deep in your throat as you hear his stifled moans get caught in his throat the more your mouth deep throats him.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel growls as his thrusts become rougher and deeper, enough to where you’re gagging on your own drool as it coats your mouth as he slips deeper inside.

Before you think you can’t take anymore, he releases his cock from your mouth as a bead of drool connects from his tip to your lower lip as you choke for air with his fingers still firmly wrapped around your hair.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises as he releases you and shoves you back to the ground as your back his the cold floor. “Now spread those legs, sweetheart. Gonna fuck ya nice and deep now,” he instructs as he spreads your legs and gets down on his knees. He throws your legs over his shoulders and lines his cock up with your folds as he slowly slides the tip up and down your folds as your spit on his cock collects with the messy slick in between your legs.

“Jus’ relax now, darlin’. Let me help fill this pretty pussy up,” he smiles as he shoves his cock through your folds and fills you up.

You gasp at the stretch, he’s so fucking big that you never quite get used to the stretch. There’s a tinge of pain, but mostly you’re so full of him that all you can focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He fucks up into you deeper as he bottoms out inside you over and over again.

His body hovers over you as his lips nip against your neck as he slides in and out of you faster faster faster as you start to feel wildlife burn through your whole body. He folds your legs in half like a pancake as he fucks deeper inside you, making your walls squeeze his large length tight as you get close to your second orgasm.

You study his appearance, focusing on his knit eyebrows that are sewn together in concentration as he loses himself in you entirely. Sweat sticks to his forehead as his curls stick together in the glistening sweat. His broad back is flexing and tightening around you as your nails claw his tan skin, making him moan into the shell of your ear as he licks against the edge of your ear with thick pants leaving his mouth.

You kiss along the edge of his jaw, nipping at his scruff as you moan his name eagerly into the base of his ear as he speeds up his thrusts, bottoming out again and again until you can’t take it anymore.

“Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna come,” you pant out as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Let me feel ya,” he commands as he thrusts up inside once twice three more times until you’re squeezing his cock with your walls and pouring yourself all over him. You moan his name and scratch your nails down his back as he moans back in satisfaction.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” he praises as he continues rutting up inside you until he’s choking for air with his own tongue.

“Christ, I’m gonna come. Fuck, I’m gonna…” He doesn’t take long till he’s shooting thick ropes of come inside your walls as you feel warmth bubbling all inside you. He takes a minute to let it all out, releasing all his spend inside you as you breathe in his whiskey coated scent.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. Can’t get enough of that sweet pussy,” he groans as he pulls his cock out of you and lets his spend slide down your milky thighs.

He collapses onto his back and pulls you into his side as you wrap a leg around his waist and inch your head up to the crook of his neck as your arm wraps around his broad chest.

“Some game, huh?” you pant as your exhausted body splays over the entirety of him.

“Some game,” he agrees as he rakes his fingers through your messy hair and kisses the top of your forehead as you relax all your weight into him.

“Think there’s ever gonna be a day where you won’t catch me?” you ask curiously as he smiles down and shakes his head at you.

“No, sweetheart. I’m always gonna catch you. Even if I have to run a couple miles to get to you. I’ll always catch you, my pretty girl.”

You smile as he pulls you tight against his body, and you spend the rest of the night just lying on the floor in the abandoned mansion where this all started in the first place. A twisted game that ended in two lovers running back to each other again and again.

Maybe some games aren’t meant to be played, but this one was specifically made for you and Joel. The cat and the mouse who started off running away from each other, but it ended with both of you falling apart together.

Tagging some mutuals who might want to read🩷 @milla-frenchy @vividispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @jasminedragoon @morallyinept @mountainsandmayhem @dugiioh @pedrostories @syd-djarin @laurrrra @joelmillersblog @joelmillerisapunk @amyispxnk @msjarvis @lotusbxtch @untamedheart81 @littlemisspascal

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becca-e-barnes · 3 months

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thinking about mating press with beefy!bucky. all that weight on top of you, knowing for certain he’s about to breed you?? ughhh

Oh God yes, the thought of this makes me fucking purr 🤤

Just the thought of his thick, slightly curved cock sliding as deep inside as you can take. The feeling of his tip rubbing against your cervix before he withdraws, pulling almost entirely out of you before he glides back in again.

"Good girl, 'm so proud of you. Cum nice and hard for me, I've got you. You're safe." He holds you so close, letting you sob your pleasure against his neck while he works you through another orgasm. It's tender and romantic and loving and you're beyond aware that this man makes you insanely wet.

Your thighs are still trembling as you come down from your high. Each thrust now feels like it's almost too much but with the way Bucky's groaning, he might not be able to keep it up for much longer.

"Fuck, you feel like Heaven. This pretty little pussy was made for me. Made to be mine." His thrusts are punishing but it's an addictive feeling. "I'm going to fill you. I'm not going to pull out. Going to give you a baby."

You're almost surprised how badly you want that but it's very hard to find the words to tell him; not when his thrusts are beginning to stutter and his high seems to get closer and closer.

"I'm going to fuck a baby into you." His hand holds your chin, making sure he can see your eyes. The evidence of pleasure written all over his face might've been enough to convince you that you could handle another orgasm but you'll still not quite sure that's a good idea.

Within a few more seconds, his cock is throbbing inside you, shooting stripes of hot, thick cum right against your cervix. He looks entirely content with his decision, pressing as deep as he can so you can feel him pulse and twitch.

There's not much you need to say to each other for a few seconds. Instead, it's nice to just listen to you both trying to catch your breath while your partner floods your waiting, fluttering sex with his cum.

#asks answered <3 #becca writes spice #beefy!bucky #beefy!bucky smut #the sleepies have hit me hard this week #I had a really productive day today though #Washed and dried all my new tableware and assigned it a cupboard to live in #Had a lovely afternoon just listening to some Hozier and getting my kitchen looking nice #I've had this one really filthy thought that I might just have to find the time to write this week

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tvgals · 1 year

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Could we please get more dad eren? I’ve literally became obsessed with the one you did 🥹🥹

too much dad! eren? no such thing !

dad! eren x black! fem! reader!

ok. let’s backtrack to the birth of you and eren’s first kid. your water broke in the midst of you and eren’s sleep. 1:40 am is what the clock read once you felt the wet and somewhat gooey substance under you. once you were atleast 70% awake and realize what’s going on, you fall into a panic. “eren, eren! wake up!” you shake eren with the most force you can as a pregnant- going into labor - woman. after almost a minute of tears falling down your face and shaking legs and hands, eren groggily wakes up.

“whats wrong, baby?” “i’m going into labor! eren please get up! we need to get in the car!” you plead, trying to get yourself out of bed, groaning while sitting on the edge. “shit shit shit…okay hold on,” eren starts panicking alongside with you. he hands you your shoes while trying to find the overnight bag the two of you agreed on just a week before. “baby please! i can feel her kicking!” you sob, trying to slide on your house shoes. “i know i know, just let me find my glasses.” him and those god damn glasses. “eren!” you squeal. “okay okay.” and with that, eren takes his and yours phones and grabs your hand, guiding you to the door. you groan and whine in pain. “holy shit eren..the hospital is like…ten minutes away! i can’t do it!” you tell him, shaking and crying. “yes you can. you’re the strongest woman i’ve ever met.” eren says, hauling you up the apartment stairs and opening up the door, fleeing down the ramp.

“baby i’m not gonna make it!” you wail, making it to the car without your knowledge. “i know it hurts baby, just get in. we’ll make it, okay?” eren sighs himself, this is stressful and he’s not the one pregnant. “okay okay.” you gasp, sitting yourself down in eren’s seat, remembering to lift your feet onto the dashboard. eren runs around the car and plops into the drivers seat, pushing the key into the engine and reversing. “eren please! go 150 if you have to! i swear to god if i have birth in this god damn car you will sleep on the couch for as long as you’re alive!” you threaten, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “got it. no birth in this car!” eren affirms, speeding down the street. just around the corner from the hospital you feel your contractions getting closer, your eyes grow wide. “eren hurry up,” you plead, eyes closing at the sight of the hospital. “cmon cmon,” eren parks the car right in front and pulls the keys out, immediately hurrying to your side. “let’s go.” he practically runs you into the lobby of the hospital, you gasping and groaning in pain.

“she’s going into labor. we just need a room really fast.” eren says, seeing a nurse come around the corner with a wheelchair. he walks you over and sits you down, the nurse hurrying you to the room. eren isn’t too far behind…due to his running. “please! i can feel her coming! hurry up!” you cry, gripping the handles of the wheelchair. “it’s okay. here’s your room right here, you’ll be okay.” after getting you all situated in the hospital bed, the doctor and multiple nurses are surrounding you, your husband by your side. “just breathe in and out.” the doctor says. after three hours of pushing and grueling work and pain (and the breaking of eren’s hand) your beautiful baby girl was born. a beautiful head of curls being presented. all tests were ran and they made sure she was healthy and safe and gave her to you, a bundle of pink.

“hi baby.” you coo, tears threatening to fall. “eren she’s so pretty.” you mumble, looking up into his emerald eyes, glossy and soft. “i know i know…” you cry, wiping your tears on your shoulder. “here eren, hold her.” you smile, handing eren your daughter. “what if i don’t know how to hold her right? what if she doesn’t like me?” eren babbles. you sush him and hand him her. “now…what name are we feeling?” you ask, tilting your head out of love. “nevaeh..”

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bakubunny · 3 months

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really craving a denki x “but i’m too big for you/for that,” chubby reader fic. that’s all.

#i love my big boys #the ones that make me feel smol for a moment but #denkirot is hitting hard n im tryna put a good attitude on abt it #i won’t say more for fear of -#bye #shitpost #ignore me pls #more matchups now ig lol #Kaminari smut #kaminari denki #x reader #chubby reader #aged up characters

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autism-corner · 5 months

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Sweet tooth, for you

During class you learn an interesting fact about demon teeth, and it takes over your mind for weeks after. What began as pure curiosity grows into something more passionate, but you can't just ask Belphegor to have a feel at his teeth, right?

Belphegor x reader || you/yours pronouns. reader has a dick. reader gets referred to with mr. once but otherwise unspecified gender. || lil bit of both comfort & smut || 3.3K words. || ao3

Usually, anatomy class at RAD discusses the biology of non-demons, striving to educate their demographic on bodies that are different from their own. The bodies and its functions of werewolves, ghosts and even humans have been thoroughly discussed. But, with the upcoming exam, a revision of their own person was needed.

Of course, demon’s anatomy wasn’t the only topic to be revised, so they only spent about two hours on it until they moved on. Still, despite having done a fair share of your own experiments with certain demons’ bodies, there were a few new neat things you picked up on. Their blood gets darker depending on general power and rank, horns need to shed and regrow every couple of centuries, et cetera, et cetera. The one thing that really stuck with you though, was the fact that, apparently, teeth slowly shift into a form closer to their respective animal over the years.

It was strange that you never noticed. Even though Levi rarely opened his mouth (and when he did it went too fast to take a proper look), he did seem to have longer and sharper canines, which closely resembled a snake’s fangs. Satan, although you’d never say this out loud, did also have a rather horsey (unicorny?) teeth, especially evident when he was once again grinding them down in his fits of rage. All the other brothers’ animals didn’t really have teeth at all, so they all have pretty regular mouths. Well, all, aside from Belphie. Cows had teeth for sure.

—

It’s been a couple of weeks. The exam had gone by, and it went okay, you guess. There’s not much reason to care about grades if you’re stuck here anyway. What you do care about is the thing that still hasn’t been able to leave your mind for all those weeks. You watched and watched, but nothing about Belphie’s teeth seemed much more fundamentally different than, say, Beel’s. It kept you constantly awake at night, and your entire search history was filled with research on cow’s teeth. You even tried the oldest books on bovidae you could find in the library. Nothing mentioned how these animals affect an associated demon’s teeth.

What you also didn’t understand was the reason for your fascination with his teeth. You and Belphie had been more than platonic for a good bit now, so it wasn’t like it’s weird to be interested in him. But this enchantment, spending day and night thinking about such a specific part of him, it felt strange. Too strange to just ask him about it.

As days and weeks continued, your interest never diminished. No, it grew stronger the longer you held off simply asking him. Now, anytime he decided to nap near you, you couldn’t keep your eyes off that mouth of his. A few times temptation got the better of you, and you moved closer to get a better look. It wouldn’t be rare to walk into a room where you and him resided, and to find you with a finger in his mouth. Just to get a better look of course. Nothing more. Simple curiosity. Or so you kept telling yourself.

—

You didn’t know how you managed to hide your interest from Belphie for this long. Maybe he was just too stupid, or maybe he was too enamoured with you in turn to notice. Beel picked up though. How could he not. He just didn’t think anything of it. It wouldn’t be the first time he walked in on something strange, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. You don’t know what finally made him bring it up to Belphie, but you did know that a very amused cow is now standing in your doorway, and will not leave until you spill your not-so-secret-anymore passion.

—

“Ugh” You groan. You knew it would eventually come to bite you in the ass, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared.

“Hi!” Cheerfulness is a scary look on Belphegor. You just know he is up to anything but good. “Beel was telling me about a little thing you’ve been doing to me…” The smile turned into a frown, clearly played up. “Why didn’t you ask me about it? I am very hurt you know…. Won’t you comfort me right now?”. Christ. He won’t let you get out of this. If you absolutely had to discuss this with him, better to do it in private. You huffed, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside. After pushing him on the bed, you made a quick trip to lock the door. Better safe than sorry.

When you turned back to the bed, Belphie had made himself plenty comfortable. It’s a mystery how he does it this quick, since the door can’t be more than two metres from your bed, but there he was. Somehow already under the blankets, unashamedly sniffing your pillow. For some reason his boots and pants were already thrown on the floor. You were entirely grateful for choosing to lock the door immediately.

As you stood there, admiring the likely half-naked man in your bed, you had to force yourself to move. Prolonging the topic wouldn’t do you any good, and you were all too keen to reach the ‘good ending’ that has been so clearly presented to you by the demon in your bed. So, you sat down on the edge of your bed, way more nervous than you have ever felt in your own room.

“I-. Look.” Belphie didn’t move. You don’t mind. You needed to have your say, and a pair of piercing eyes on you while you did so was not going to help. “I don’t know how much Beel has actually told you, but all of it is probably true.” You couldn’t bear to look at him either, shame endlessly growing with intensity, but the warm hand that had reached out to hold yours helped. A little.

—

You told him everything. The anatomy class where it all started, your ever-growing curiosity for his teeth specifically, and the eroticism that started to develop for them as well. You decided to let out the details of your nightly pleasures to him, but he got the gist. The idea of big molars, and teeth in general, was very hot to you. Alright.

During your spilling of the embarrassing obsession, small tears had started to form in your eyes. You know Belphegor loved you and he had his own kinks as well, but this felt too weird. You couldn’t find anyone at all that shared your interest, and there were only a few videos online to satisfy your needs. Imagination was becoming harder to use, always having to be more aware that you could just ask the object of interest. But, in a way it felt good. Better. Halfway through your ramblings Belphie had gotten up and next to you, draping a blanket over the two of you. He hadn’t interrupted. He wouldn’t have known what to say anyway. Feelings weren’t really his strong suit.

Once you were finished with most of your difficult feelings, your tears having dried a bit, you gathered the courage to look at your boyfriend. Your voice was a bit sore, but you managed to talk again. “So. Have I turned you off with my weirdness?” It was a half-joke. Something like this couldn’t stop Belphie loving you, but you couldn’t shake the fear off you that easily. Luckily, the one thing regarding feelings that Belphegor was good at, was affirming his admiration to you.

As his fingers continued fidgeting with yours, like they had for the past while, he responded softly. “You really think something like that could stop me from being with you?” His eyes reached yours for the first time today. “Darling. All of us have little secrets like that. If anything, I’m more upset that you've waited this long to tell me.” A small smirk formed on his face. “Do you know how much fun we could’ve had with this already? I know you see me as your little pillow princess, but I do want you to enjoy yourself as well. I am totally not opposed to you getting a feel, yaknow.” His face inched closer, his soft lips pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Are you up to satisfying your curiosities right now?”

You felt a bit stupid for doubting he wouldn’t be eager to please you as well. So, as soon as you gave him a smile and a nod, his coyness dropped and a huge smile came to his face. “Awesome!” Within the next second, he put his arms around your neck in one swift movement, and pulled the both of you down to lay on the bed. In a poor attempt to not put your entire weight on his fragile-looking body, your legs put you in excellent position to straddle Belphegor. He let out a sweet giggle at the feeling.

“So, Mr. Curious-About-Teeth, care to tell me what you want to know?”. The look he gave you was addicting. His arms were still around your neck, keeping you close, and forcing you to put all too much weight on the arms you have braced around his head. Unfortunately, you have a little too much dignity left in you to fall limp all over him by the mere mention of his teeth.

His teeth…

As soon as you were brought back to reality, you returned to being very aware of the situation and everything it held. But, all the fantasies you had really didn’t prepare you for the real thing. Hmm. Where to start?

As you pondered over the next best thing to do, Belphies expression softened. His lustful gaze never lessened, but it became clear to him that this was still difficult for you. Understandably so. Neither of you had ever been this unprepared for a new ‘experiment’.

Finally, you grunted. “Argh. Listen, I don’t know.” The thinking was too energy-consuming, and you begrudgingly let your arms give in, making all of your weight fall onto the man below. If it did hurt, Belphie didn’t let you know. “Just. Let me do my thing. Please?” You had to start somewhere. And thus, comfortably splayed out on your demon, you began where you had left off a couple days ago. Getting your fingers all in that hot mouth of his.

Now finally being awake during your indulgence, Belphie immediately opened up obediently for you. With his mouth wide agape, you finally got to look at that which you so desperately longed for. Your fingers, which were already close to his lips to begin with, were able to properly slither in at last. Your eyes were instantly mesmerised by the look of you, reaching into that holy place.

Your fingers reached his molars before your eyes were able to get a proper look at them. You made sure to remember to ask Belphie again later for another look and proper, non-horny research. Despite the current hard-on that was slowly developing in your pants, you were still fascinated by the entire concept from a scientific standpoint. Not right now though, no. Any logical or reasonable thought had long left your mind.

They were pointy and flat. Anything you thought they would be. Grinding your finger against them, you could only imagine what your dick would feel like in those same dangers. God, they felt divine. Even better than you ever could have hoped. How can a demon like this feel this good? Although that would probably remain a mystery, you were all too keen to keep exploring.

As you marvelled in his sharp wetness, another one of your fingers joined you. They travelled along either side of his jaw. You started at the front, with his smooth incisors. Not too much different from your own teeth. But, continuing to where you would have expected some canines, it turned into a smooth transition to his premolars. The premolars were a bit sharper than the molars farther back, and gave a very nice resistance. At this point though, the two fingers were getting a bit much for Belphegor, spreading his mouth out more than comfortable. Although he was known for his big mouth, you guess that this wasn’t what they meant.

Too entranced to notice, WAY to turned on to stop, you decided that the least you could do was give him something to pay with as well. So, alongside the two already in his mouth, another two fingers went in. It took a bit of shuffling to fit it in proper, but your index and pinky finger were now on either side of his jaw, your ring and middle finger keeping his tongue pressed down.

As you continued, your focus finally able to shift to his molars fully, you let yourself go again. Bephie seemed a bit more contend as well, now leisurely licking and playing with the long forgotten fingers formerly resting on his tongue. You asked yourself later how he was even able to handle so much business in his mouth, but you guess there’s indeed plenty more to learn about demons’ anatomy. For now, back to the teeth.

The molars had been the most fascinating things for you. They are the teeth anyone sees when asked to imagine one. Big, square, pointy bits on the bottom (which were now still in his gums, luckily enough). The classic. Oh how you had longed to feel his like this.

They were bigger. Longer. One could have mistaken one of Belphie’s molars for two of a humans. It was hot. You couldn’t help but wonder how far back they went. So, your hand wondered, without any regards to the man whose mouth you were currently evading.

It had gone too far. The molars kept continuing, and your hand wasn’t going to stop by itself. But despite his unusual physique, Belphegor still had a gag reflex. Somewhere far back.

He bit. You thought you heard a bit of a moan, but you weren't sure. It hadn’t ~hurt~ per se. If anything, your pants got impossibly more tight. But it couldn’t have been pleasant for Belphegor. So, regardless of your own burning needs, you retrieved your hands out of his sharp warmth.

You merely looked on while Belphie coughed and tried to get his breath back. You noticed that his eyes were a bit dazed, like they usually were after an eventful night, and was happy it wasn’t all that bad for the other party. Still, he clearly needed some space to wheeze for a moment. While he got his breath back, you got up and quickly slid off your pants. Those would not be necessary for anything that would follow.

—

It’s unclear how you got here. One moment you were hurrying your belt off, and the next moment you were sat on belphie’s chest, the demon under you already licking at your tip. Did he manage to pull you back here somehow? Reaching for a bit of stability in your new-found position, you placed your hands next to his head. As you did so, his eyes reached you once again, and he flashed you a smile. “Ready for the ride?” he asked with a sultry tone. At least, you think he did. Despite the loveliness of it, you couldn’t really focus on his voice. Everything you’ve longed for over the past months was right in front of you, and nothing but those pearly ivories could inhabit your mind at the moment. Belphie didn’t mind your absence, pleased enough to pleasure you for now. This time, he didn’t cover his teeth as his enveloping warmth embraced you once again.

It was rough. The scraping and tugging wasn’t exactly like what you tried to imagine so many times, but it felt good. Way too good. Something you hadn’t considered before but was certainly a plus, was the danger surrounding it all. You knew all the better that if Belphie really wanted to, he could properly bite down right now, and snap off your entire dick. The signs of thrust and love surrounding it all made you appreciate it even more.

Up till now, Belphie had been giving you the regular ol’ blowjob. Definitely nothing wrong with it, especially so with the added roughness of his teeth, but you wanted, no, NEEDED more. You grabbed a handful of his hair and forced him to look up, shifting your hips to be in a position with more controle. “Belphs,” Fuck. His eyes met yours, and you were once again reminded how addicted to him you were. You smiled. “I’m gonna take charge for now, alright?”

He couldn’t respond of course, your dick still halfway in his mouth, but he managed to give a slight nod, accompanied with a little smile. Adorable. “Please, if it gets too much, tap me somewhere twice, alright?” It’s important to set up safeties, especially since you weren’t sure how aware you could be when things got further. He smiled again, a look of determination settling on his face. It’s a shame that in your current position, you weren’t able to kiss his face. Oh well. There were more important things at hand right now.

As your hips slowly started up again, Belphie placed his hands on your thighs. He pulled you closer, encouraging you to let loose. He knew what he was getting himself into.

You manoeuvred your hips a bit, searching for the delicious points and dips of his molars your fingers had explored so well earlier. As you found your place, sandwiched between your lovers teeth, you noticed them bite down on you. As they did so, shivers went up your spine. It didn’t hurt at all. Alright, maybe it did a little bit, but it only added to the pleasure. It made you long for more, harder. Would Belphie like the taste of your blood? That’s something to find out later, you didn’t want to go that far this first time.

While getting used to the frankly weird and strangely hot situation, your hips gained movement again. You couldn’t focus on anything but grinding against this foreign sensation, hoping to remember every nook and cranny, and make them yours. It was delicious.

Belphie’s teeth provided the perfect amount of resistance to rut against. With each movement of your hips the feeling increased, and so did the pressure. As your tip dragged along the sharp edges, you let out moans like you hadn’t ever before. And Belphie’s own grunting, as much as he was able to do so, only spurred you on. Slowly, you felt yourself get lost in the sensation, chasing and relishing in endless pleasure.

—

You don’t know how long you used Belphegor. You came twice, thrice maybe? And he must have swallowed it all, since you definitely did not stop after your first round. Admittedly, all your memories of it are a bit hazy. You remember quick movement and relentless bliss, but not much more. All the more an excuse to do it again someday. But for now you were spent, and the boy sound asleep next to you clearly was as well. Come to think of it, had he even cum? Were you really too lost in your own thrill to care for his needs?? Surely that wouldn’t do, and you made a mental note to make it up to him extensively, once he woke up. Later.

As you pulled your demon closer to you, you placed a sweet kiss on his forehead. “Thank you” you murmured softly. Subconsciously, Belphegor moved closer to you as well, and you closed your eyes. Content after a night well spent you went on your way to join him in his dreams, hoping to give him more love there.

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

HI thank you for reading!! its a pretty niche fetish so I need to make my own contend for it but im pretty happy with how it turned out =w=b just another reminder that I also posted this on ao3, and to comment and like/reblog if you enjoyed my silly lil teeth groping & fucking <3

#obey me belphegor #obey me x reader #obey me #sillyposting #my work #obey me smut #x reader #teeth #ig??#YAY #my first title was 'anatomy class' as a reference to tma bc i love that eps but ig its better to have one that directly references teeth...#so cavetown song it is!! i love that song sm it really hits hard. plus it fits pretty well for this so!!! <3 YAYY #im finally coming out and saying it directly.#dude i just wanna fuck some teeth oml......#oml do NOT get me started......#i just need some pretty boy who has strong molars and lets me put my fingers in his mouth for hours.#augh you wouldnt understand......#anyway =w=bbbb #YIPPEEE finally belphie cowdentrues my love......

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lino-nyangi · 2 years

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💭: minho talking to his cats; them meowing and him just being like "hmm?" like they're going on about something and he's totally invested in the story, makes me think of the extremely inappropriate counterpart of that being when he's fucking you dumb you can't form any coherent words, only messy blabbers and he's just looking down at you with the most loving eyes like "hmm i know baby, feels good, yeah?" & all you can do is stare back at him, lips apart as your body trembles.

#i made myself cry with this one #sorry for making you soft in the beginning just to hit you with the most unhinged shit right after #also sorry to soondoongdori #but your dad is hot #lee know smut #lee know hard hours #lee know hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids minho #stray kids #stray kids smut #lee know

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thegreatwicked · 3 months

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Memories of Chocolate Laced Kisses

It's finally done! And before I overthink it and do another ten edits here it is! The night Obi-Wan and Cressida's son was conceived! This was really hard to get through and it was a struggle to keep a specific tone I set, so I hope you all like it!

Memories of Chocolate Laced Kisses

She had always been particularly gifted in the area of evasion, her years as a sentinel no doubt took what was already a natural talent and sharpened that skill into perfection. With our meeting finished, Cressida, once more, had slipped away, disappearing like a vapor and I found myself standing alone in the practice room. This place had served as a neutral ground for our discussion regarding Solan, it was a location I hadn't frequented in quite some time. Until now, I had little reason to set foot in such a place, I wasn’t a teacher, not like the other masters who possessed the innate ability to connect with small children, it was never something I was particularly good at. However, being back in this room, waves of nostalgia washed over me in my solitude, bringing back a wealth of memories of my own youth.

This very room had been where I once stood as a youngling, learning to harness the Force and master my emotions, just like we all did, some faster than others. Despite the years and countless Jedi who had passed through these doors, the place remained virtually unchanged, it even smelled the same. How that was possible I wasn’t quite certain but the sense of familiarity was both comforting and bittersweet.

Some things never change, and some things must. I was falling into the latter category, I must change.

In contrast to my distant past, the room now felt smaller, almost diminutive whereas once it seemed to loom so large it was difficult to comprehend. I couldn't help but imagine how Solan might have looked donned in the traditional Jedi robes that his mother and I once wore. How he might have looked standing in this room surrounded by his clan, other force-sensitive children like himself, all learning, all a bit afraid. The thought brought a warm smile to my lips.

Getting to know Solan wasn’t going to be without its challenges, it was already becoming evident that he inherited traits from both his mother and me, from what little I had seen. The quick wit, sharp remarks he got from me, and an unwavering determination and calculable observation were among the qualities that were imparted to him from his mother, together they defined him. A blend of the two of us, it was amazing when I thought of it. I had never given much thought to children, certainly never of having any of my own, yet here I was, a father to a young Jedi in training. The notion of seeing Solan as we once were, in robes that may have been a little too large, wearing a training helmet, and wielding a training saber was one that warmed me inside. However, this particular memory was but a fiction—a scenario of what could have been but never was, at least not how I imagined it. In truth, Solan had discovered his connection to the Force through clandestine training sessions with his mother, in dangerous territory, hidden from my knowledge, and my protection.

My smile waned, and I found myself weighed down once more by the reality of my new life, my world grew heavy again feeling as though it were forcing me down, I sat myself on the floor, lost in contemplation. My thoughts swirled around the complexities of my life and how it had all commenced. It hadn't started in this room, but rather in the very quarters I inhabited whenever I was in the temple—my late master Qui-Gon's quarters. I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift back through the sands of time. The memories flowed in reverse, like a river running backward.

Back...

Until I arrived at the precise moment I wished to revisit, a memory I had not permitted myself to visit, one that now pained and confused me—the night when Cressida and I had passionately shared together, the night Solan had been conceived.

With my mind's eye now open, I stood in Qui-Gon's old room, gazing upon the specter of my former self. I was a young, newly anointed Jedi Knight, weighed down by the immense responsibilities of the galaxy, struggling to bear that burden alone.

And I was very alone.

The room seemed to hold echoes of that fateful night, and I couldn't help but wonder how different our lives might have been had we chosen a different path, but as I watched the dance of the ghosts of the past play out before my eyes, I found myself inexplicably grateful that my path had been set as it was and that it now intertwined with Cressida.

~~~

“What will happen to me?"

"You will be a Jedi, I promise,"

When the pyre had burned to nothing and only the ashes of a great Jedi master remained, Obi-wan retired to his fallen Master's quarters for one last night. The council had been kind in letting him remain where his master once called home, a small respite before he had to move on. He sat uncertain of how to proceed, only knowing that he had to. In a few days' time, he would begin training Anakin as his own Padawan. The enormity of the task weighed heavily on his shoulders, physically pulling him down, yet somehow he managed to maintain his composure. After everything that had happened, there was a blissful numbness that settled over him.

~~~

Sunset colored the room with warm shades in an attempt to breathe some life into the small space, which felt more like a tomb as the days had gone by. The whole room seemed dead like a spell, cold and lifeless had been cast upon it, trapping its inhabitant in stasis. Beyond the walls, life continued within the Jedi Order. Within the modest quarters that had been Qui-Gon Jinn's, the final rays of sunlight withdrew from the floor, plunging the room into twilight.

Master Qui-Gon’s pyre had drawn hundreds to the temple grounds and as he watched his master’s final journey into the unknown, he felt lost in a sea of faces. He felt as though he were watching it all happen through someone else’s eyes. A spectator to a day he had never wanted to see. Like no one saw him; no one except for the boy who was as alone as he was.

Anakin.

He’d spent the last few days in the stillness of Master Qui-Gon’s empty quarters, alone. He just needed a bit of time to deal with his grief. To somehow find himself because as soon as he left this room, he would be Obi-wan Kenobi Jedi Knight and Master to the Chosen One. The thought alone was terrifying.

"Master..." The word was a whisper, a ghostly echo of conversations past.

Even though the seat across from him at the table he sat at was empty, it was hard to believe Qui-Gon was truly gone. Harder still to fathom that he was about to step into the role of a Master and train Anakin Skywalker—the Chosen One. How could he teach another when his own heart was adrift in sorrow?

He just needed a little more time. He needed to wake up. But more than that he needed to find the willpower to stop sitting here, at the same table he and Qui-Gon used to share meals with and had countless conversations. Because no one sat across from him anymore.

He just stared at the two meals that had long since gone cold as if the presence of two portions of uneaten food would somehow change things, but despite not eating for days he felt no hunger or thirst.

Would it be this way forever?

He knew realistically the answer was ‘no.’ That he would find a way to pull himself up, that he would rise to the occasion and make his master proud and fulfill his dying wish. He would make Anakin a Jedi, it was just hard knowing that this time he would do it alone. Draped in Qui-Gon's robe, its oversized embrace offered a comforting haven, even though the hem sometimes skimmed the floor, causing a stumble now and then. In spite of its impractical size, the robe carried memories of his former master, making it too precious for Obi-Wan to remove.

Time was purposeless and held no sway over him, sat somewhere between a meditative state and consciousness, he lingered. The mechanical hiss of the doors saw no acknowledgement, nor did the soft light that flooded into the room or the hushed footsteps that stopped behind him. It wasn’t until he felt he was being stared at out of his peripheral vision that he turned for the first time in hours to see who it was that interrupted his solace, and it wasn't a face he expected.

Cressida Vox.

He hadn’t seen her in two years and the passage of time was apparent as it took his shock a few moments to catch up. Regardless of the flow of those two years and all that had changed, her eyes were still the same. Overcast and gray, like a peaceful day with clouds and gentle rain, bringing a sense of tranquility. She sat on her knees next to him saying nothing but the concern on her face communicating everything, reaching in a way words failed.

"Cress…"

As if awakening from a dream, his voice barely rising above a whisper, as if he feared he wasn’t really seeing what he was seeing.

"Hello, Obi-Wan,"

Though he couldn't find the words to respond, a sense of reassurance washed over him at the sight of her well-being. She offered him a muted smile and took his cold hand in hers, gently prying it from his own clasped grip. Taking immediate note of the indentations on his skin left by his own nails, something Obi-Wan hadn't realized until her fingers traced over the angry little lines, she reassured him with a squeeze, her thumb brushing lightly across his knuckles.

It was heart-wrenching to see those pools of blue that had once sparkled with the promise of adventure, camaraderie and compassion, now dulled, lost in the shadows that seemed to cling to the corners of the room.

“I know.”

That was all she said.

His voice quivered with each attempt to speak, and the sorrow that had been accumulating over the past few days surged forward, causing him to slump forward in sheer exhaustion, unable to hold back any longer. She wrapped him in her arms, cradling his head as he shook with grief, a sorrow she was unfortunately too familiar with. She wished so much that he didn't have to share this pain with her now, she’d have given anything to take it from him, but not even in the expanse of the cosmic Force, did such a power exist. Her fingers ran through the short hair at the back of his neck as his hot tears met her skin, and Obi-Wan wept.

The friendships between Padawans were something special in Jedi life, enduring across decades and the vastness of the galaxy. These connections often felt like the Padawans had spent everyday together, even if that wasn't the case. In the case of Obi-Wan and Cressida, their meetings were infrequent, but each one left a profound impact.

Without the strong friendship between their Masters, Obi-Wan and Cressida might never have crossed paths. This realization weighed heavily on Obi-Wan as he held onto Cressida tightly, almost painfully so. She didn't dare move, struck by the jarring sight of Obi-Wan in such a vulnerable state. Known for his confident and warm smile, always ready with a clever remark, seeing him falling apart felt fragile. Through the worst of things, he had always stayed positive. The despair coming from him was unbearable, but she felt uniquely qualified to offer solace.

Two years ago, the tables had turned, and she was the one drowning in tears after her master's brutal death. Back then, Obi-Wan had been her comforting presence, dispelling the frigid void surrounding her. His hands firmly held hers, extending a lifeline, while his arms embraced her as she unraveled.

Now, seated side by side, they shared a silent moment. The echoes of his subdued lament gradually faded away. The intense sobs that had overtaken him earlier subsided, reduced to a mere tremor with each exhale. His breathing settled into a rhythmic cadence, growing more measured with each inhalation and exhalation.

When he finally looked up, his eyes still held a hint of redness, stained by lingering sadness. Yet, within the weariness of his gaze, a faint glimmer of Obi-Wan Kenobi emerged. A subtle nod followed—an unspoken assurance that he wasn't okay, but he would be alright. He was on the path to recovery. Despite the brokenness of his smile, there was a visible effort to reclaim himself, one piece at a time, starting with that smile. While the corners of his mouth didn't entirely turn upwards, the initial attempt proved somewhat successful. It marked a gradual return of the Obi-Wan she knew, a testament to his resilience and the slow resurgence of his inner strength.

"Your hair is longer," he remarked, his voice carrying a soft, tired undertone, yet a warmth returning to his words.

She tilted her head, looking for the long braid she used to tug on incessantly. "And you're missing a braid," A subdued burst of laughter escaped him. "How will I grab your attention now?"

Their laughter, though tinged with a sense of forced lightness, echoed in the room. Obi-Wan chuckled, a newfound appreciation for their shared history of pranks, and shrugged. "I suppose we'll have to resort to communicating like responsible adults." Her raised eyebrow conveyed skepticism.

"Are we even capable of that?" she questioned, her doubt evident. He responded with a nonchalant shrug.

"I believe we can manage," he asserted. Obi-Wan leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, and whispered, "Welcome home." The dynamic in the room shifted as the sadness retreated to the shadows; with Cressida's presence, it seemed to stand no chance. Laughter, less forced, infused the air, carrying a hint of relief at their reunion.

~~~

"The refectory tells me that you request plates of food daily– two of them, and consistently, they remain untouched," Obi-Wan avoided her gaze, providing no explanation. "You know he wouldn't want this."

"I'd give anything to have one more meal with him, maybe somehow if I could, then I'd be more prepared for what comes next. I suppose that's why I keep calling for two plates. I know he's gone, but—" He trailed off, then like a burst damn, blurted it out. “How can I do this? How can I train a padawan? What if I fail him? What I-”

His gaze fell on the lightsaber and the untouched food. Before he could retreat into his thoughts, Cressida's hand squeezing pulled him back.

“You will be what Anakin needs, see the way clear, Obi-Wan. Trust in the Force, and you can’t fail.”

"Sometimes, it feels like a nightmare I can't wake from, Cress. Other times, it's like I'm seeing it happen to someone else." Observing Cressida's subtle nod, the one she did without meaning to. This prompted a question he had never asked but often wondered about, "How did you do it? How did you recover from this?"

With a deep and introspective breath, she responded in a tone reminiscent of a confession, her gaze fixated on Qui-Gon’s lightsaber. "I don’t suppose I ever did," she admitted.

His expression mirrored diminished hope, as if he were anticipating some morsel of wisdom.

“Does it ever get any easier?”

She gave a hesitant shrug, her response filled with uncertainty, as if the question had caught her off guard, or maybe she hadn't fully sorted through her thoughts.

"Yes. And no." Her words carried an ambivalent tone. "Some days, it feels like I can still hear his voice. Other days, I can't even remember what it sounded like. I don’t think there is recovery, only acceptance. It won't ever fade, but with time, it gets a bit easier to bear. Living makes it harder to dwell on the ones we've lost." Her gaze shifted to the empty space where Qui-Gon used to sit. "The memory always lingers; no one truly vanishes."

Obi-Wan remained silent, his eyes fixed on the food in front of him, as if caught between the urge to eat and an inner struggle. She reached for one of the plates, pulling it closer. When he didn't respond, she offered a piece of now-cold bread, extending it toward him. However, he showed no interest in taking it. His focus barely shifted, even when Cressida playfully joked about the bread not being poisoned and lightly poked him in the face with it. She had hoped for a laugh or a smile, but the best he managed was a less melancholic frown and furrowed brow.

"If you want to keep pace with a padawan, you'll need your strength,"

The reference to Anakin appeared to cut through Obi-Wan's preoccupation. Anakin, much like Obi-Wan, grappled with the difficulties of being alone. The burden of his commitment to both Qui-Gon and Anakin pressed heavily on him. "Do it for me." Her smile carried a blend of gentle pleading, and it appeared to touch him at last. With the slightest of smiles, he took the bread.

"Thank you," he whispered, then took a disinterested bite.

At first, he chewed slowly, almost as if struggling with himself to eat. However, as the act of chewing continued, his body seemed to awaken from its stupor, reacquainting itself with the taste of food. Gradually, his appetite rekindled.

She nudged his plate back toward him, and he resumed eating slowly. Offering some of his meal to Cressida, she accepted more out of a desire to ensure he didn't stop eating than genuine hunger. With deliberate restraint, she savored small bites, recalling the days when a younger Obi-Wan would consume his body weight, much to the horror of Master Deva L’Rue. The thought brought a smile to her face, reminiscing about those lighter moments.

As they shared the meal, it brought back memories of better days when their paths crossed, and both masters and their padawans enjoyed shared meals and stories. This was the first time in two years that they had dined together. The previous occasion had followed the passing of Cressida's master, Deva L'Rue, adding a layer of somber reflection to their gathering. While the absence of their masters meant fewer conversations and embarrassing stories, the simple act of breaking bread brought comfort. Turning to Cressida, Obi-Wan, as though contemplating the question throughout the meal, finally asked:

"Where have you been?"

The question arose from a mix of curiosity and a lingering yearning that endured two years of silence. Obi-Wan understood the slim odds of receiving a direct answer, given the mystery surrounding Cressida's actions after her master's death. She had simply disappeared, leaving behind uncertainty that haunted him for a while. Despite the slim chances, he couldn't resist asking.

Her lips formed the kind of smile that carried the weight of untold secrets and extraordinary tales destined to remain unspoken. Instead of words, she raised her lightsaber, and with a vibrant yellow blade, it pierced through the shadows, casting a radiant glow.

She was a sentinel—a guardian of the Jedi Order, tasked with navigating the enigmatic realms beyond the well-trodden trails of traditional Jedi.

As her lightsaber hummed, the once-darkened room transformed into a space bathed in its brilliant illumination. The two-year silence suddenly made more sense and it saddened him further. Their destinies were set on divergent paths, and he couldn't help but wonder how many years might pass before their paths crossed again.

The secretive and independent role of a sentinel explained where she had been all this time and also brought up more questions, fortunately he knew better than to ask.

“Our masters would have been proud of you."

“They would be proud of us.”

Trying to infuse a bit of levity into the atmosphere, Obi-Wan interjected humor into their conversation, inquiring:

"Any extraordinary stories you can regale me with?"

Cressida, as though on the brink of revealing some hidden knowledge or secret anecdotes reserved solely for Obi-Wan, scanned their surroundings and playfully motioned for him to draw nearer. Her unexpected compliance surprised him, prompting him to shift closer, intrigued by the prospect that she might actually unveil something to him.

“Two may keep a secret if one is dead,” she whispered with a wink, leaving Obi-Wan to chuckle in response, he should have known better. "And we can’t deny the galaxy a face as handsome as yours,"

The unexpected compliment caught him by surprise, a delightful twist that brought a genuine smile to his face. Though no stranger to compliments on his good looks, there was a unique charm in the way Cressida delivered her words. It prompted him to cast a bashful glance at the ground, a soft chuckle escaping him as if to downplay the noticeable blush coloring his cheeks.

"Keep your secrets then; I won't pry them from you," he responded, sidestepping a direct acknowledgment of the complement while allowing a subtle warmth to touch the tips of his ears.

With Obi-Wan's plate finally cleared, life and color returned to him, prompting a relieved sigh from Cressida. The table, however, wasn't entirely empty. A lone dish remained—a small bowl of soup favored by Qui-Gon and Yoda. This root stew, resembling brackish water, held a special place in the hearts of the seasoned Jedi Masters. Despite its unappealing appearance, Qui-Gon and Yoda found delight in it, engaging in many conversations over the bowl during chance encounters on the temple grounds. They insisted it wasn't just tasty but also beneficial for one's well-being. Numerous attempts were made to persuade Obi-Wan and Cressida to try it, but even Master Deva L’Rue, delicately toeing the line between respect and tactlessness, kept his distance, declaring it smelled like swamp water.

Dodging this particular dish created an odd bond between Obi-Wan and Cressida, leading them to playfully call it that whenever it appeared. Qui-Gon, being fair, acknowledged it was an acquired taste, its prevalence tied to circumstances on an assignment. Under different circumstances, he might have never given it a second thought. Yoda's unbridled enthusiasm for the stew, coupled with grumbles about younglings being too picky, and his subsequent dive into the dish with an appetite bordering on ravenous, added a humorous twist to the culinary escapade in retrospect. Despite Obi-Wan and Cressida being far from younglings, in the eyes of a Jedi Master who had lived over 900 years, all Jedi, regardless of age, could be considered as such.

Obi-Wan and Cressida found themselves for the first time in several years face to face with the dreaded Swamp Water. A playful standoff ensued, with exchanged knowing glances and an unspoken challenge lingering in the air. With each daring the other to take the first taste, their expressions shifting between soft chuckles and head-shaking disbelief at the unappetizing bowl before them. Two Jedi knights, grappling with the burdens of the galaxy, found themselves in a lighthearted stalemate of stubbornness, and pride.

The passage of time had softened Cressida's recollection, and perhaps it wasn't as dreadful as she had remembered? After all, years had passed, and they were undeniably adults now. What better way to courageously face the future than with a ceremonial taste of the stew in Qui-Gon's honor? Naturally, she decided to let Obi-Wan take the first bite. Reaching forward, she stirred the contents of the bowl. The scent, even more unpleasant when cold, made her wrinkle her nose in a comically exaggerated display of distaste. Without missing a beat, she extended the spoon to Obi-Wan, who responded with an emphatic head shake and a resolute rejection of the utensil.

"Don't you think we're a little old for these games?"

Obi-Wan deftly evaded Cressida's attempts to feed him the dreaded swamp water stew, ducking his head from side to side. Her persistent and somewhat childish antics managed to coax a genuine smile from the Jedi Knight, filling the room with the rich resonance of his chuckles. Yet, Cressida wasn't satisfied with mere smiles—she wanted unrestrained, hearty laughter,s he would accept nothing less.

"You’re exactly right, we’re far too old for these games. We’re adults. We're Jedi Knights, right?” She put the spoon back into the bowl and Obi-wan nodded, “Guardians of the Force, Keepers of the Peace." Obi-Wan nodded again in agreement, but a lingering skepticism still colored his expression, as if he anticipated a punchline he might not appreciate. "I think we've grown enough to triumph over a bowl of soup, don't you?"

"I suppose..." Obi-Wan chose to maintain a dubious stance, making no effort to hide it.

"You first." She pushed the bowl towards him

"What? Why me?" He blinked rapidly, sounding somewhat offended, shoving it back to her. "Ladies first."

“You’re the one with a padawan... who hasn’t eaten in a week,” she teased, determined to escalate their playful skirmish, pushing it with greater force. "It'll be good for you!"

"It’ll make me sick… Do you really want to witness me regurgitate what little sustenance I’ve managed?" Obi-Wan countered, injecting a playful tone into his words as they engaged in a lighthearted skirmish over who would summon the courage to taste the infamous stew. He gave it another shove, causing some of its contents to slosh out onto the table "Absolutely not!"

“Come now, Obi-Wan, make Qui-Gon proud, drink the swamp water.”

“You’re the sentry; I thought sentinels were known for their fearlessness,” He teased, playfully prodding at the pride associated with her sentinel status.

Unfazed, she shook her head, playfully accusing him, “Coward,” before boldly bringing the spoon to her lips and sampling the stew. Regret was instantaneous.

As her face contorted into a look of sheer disgust, she groaned, biting her lips inward to keep from expelling the substance. Her defensive posture resembled a creature recoiling from an unpleasant surprise as she dropped the spoon into the murky swamp water, a culinary nemesis that seemed to take personal offense. Obi-Wan couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled up within him rivaling the roar of a Wookiee. It erupted like a geyser, a release of pent-up tension, and the laughter poured out of him in uncontrollable waves, echoing through the room. The sheer absurdity of the situation fueled his amusement, and he found himself leaning on the table for support, laughing harder than he had in weeks. With wide eyes and an audible groan, she valiantly attempted to wrestle the offensive taste into submission, which only made him laugh harder.

With wide eyes and an exaggerated groan of displeasure, Cressida dropped the offending spoon into the swamp water as if it had bitten her, her eyes desperately searching for salvation. Meanwhile, in the midst of this gastronomic chaos, Obi-Wan, now sprawled on the floor, held his sides as if trying to contain his laughter within the confines of his body. It was as if the sheer force of his amusement had rendered him unable to sit upright. The scene unfolded like a comedic masterpiece, with Cressida's struggles and Obi-Wan's uncontrollable laughter creating a tableau of pure mirth.

Despite the daunting challenge, Cressida summoned her physical training outside the influence of the Force, conquering the spoonful of the culinary concoction in several determined swallows. Her victory was marked by a post-swallow shudder that rippled through her entire being, and she couldn't help but let her tongue hang out in a comical display. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan, still clutching his sides, had tears streamed down his face as he watched Cressida's valiant effort, finding immense amusement in the unexpected respite from the prevailing heaviness that had haunted them for days.

"It's vile!"

In her desperate attempt to banish the unpleasant taste, she continually opened and closed her mouth, her eyes fixed on Obi-Wan's cup of water, revealing a desperate thirst for relief. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Obi-Wan beat her to it and held the water just out of her reach, goading her until she practically scaled the table in pursuit. Amused by her antics, he continued to laugh at her desperation.

In the past, she would have resorted to tugging on his braid, a playful gesture no longer available since it was now gone. Instead, she opted for his collar, giving it a firm tug that pulled him back and caused the water to splash on the table. Unable to allow her to suffer any longer, Obi-Wan surrendered the coveted drink. As she took generous sips, hoping in vain for respite, she groaned between gulps

"This is not fit for human consumption!"

"Did the water help?" Obi-Wan asked, still chuckling, his laughter unabated, fully aware of the predictable answer.

In response, Cressida forcefully exhaled in his direction, unleashing an aroma that hit him like a gust of wind from the darkest corners of the galaxy. Obi-Wan recoiled, a look of sheer horror on his face, as if he had just faced a Sith Lord's malevolent Force attack. Fortunately, the odor passed quicker than the taste, leaving him only with the memory of the unpleasant aroma. Meanwhile, Cressida's suffering continued, and his laughter returned. It had been years since he had seen this side of Cressida—funny, at ease, and thoroughly disgusted.

Her expression turned sharp, and she shot him a glare that could have cut through Durasteel.

"If you don't stop laughing, I'm going to leave you."

Her threat was delivered with a playful undertone, a joke. Truth be told, she was happy to see him enjoying a good laugh, even if it came at the cost of her culinary misadventure. His smile had a way of brightening the room, and she wouldn't trade that for anything.

Obi-Wan, toeing the line of good humor, decided to playfully throw in the towel. He raised his hands in mock defeat, after all, the Jedi were known for bringing balance to the galaxy—time to live up to that reputation. He reached for the dreaded spoon in solidarity, giving it a comical salute before bravely taking a bite in an act of penance. Attempting to swallow it in one gulp didn't quite work out, but, credit to Obi-Wan, he only hesitated briefly, a quizzical expression on his face as he pondered whether anything could be worse than what he had already endured.

Obi-Wan's response was immediate—a full-fledged gag reflex that far surpassed Cressida's, leading him to cover his mouth in a desperate attempt to avoid the impending upheaval caused by the foul concoction. As he contorted in exaggerated gestures of what seemed like a mix of disgust and pain, Cressida couldn't help but burst into laughter, and it felt as if the Force itself found amusement, sharing a cosmic chuckle at their expense. Despite their roles as Jedi, in that comical moment, they reveled in the realization that even the mighty Jedi Knight could be reduced to animated hilarity by a simple bowl of swamp stew. She pictured the amused spirits of their late masters having a hearty laugh from their celestial vantage point in the Force.

Here stood the man who had bested a Sith Lord, a Jedi Padawan of fearless courage, charm, and unwavering determination. Yet, the current spectacle before her was a stark departure—a tongue hanging out, portraying a kicked puppy facing an unjust penalty. The contrast between these two versions of Obi-Wan, the valiant Jedi and the humorously defeated one, created a comical scene that had her rolling with laughter.

As Obi-Wan grappled with the lingering aftertaste of the dreadful stew, Cressida couldn't resist teasing him, holding the glass of water just beyond his reach in a karmic twist. Despite momentarily forgetting about the glass, Obi-Wan swiftly focused on it. Intent on not letting her win, he summoned it with the Force, sending it toward him like a streak of lightning. With a triumphant gulp, he downed what little was left, only to be immediately assaulted by the infamous aftertaste. Panting like a dog, he struggled to exhale the foul flavor.

“How is it possible that it gets worse?” He groaned in exasperation, shuddering as Cressida did.

“Surprise.”

Pleased with the outcome and relishing in his laughter, along with the added amusement of witnessing his struggle with the repulsive dish, she couldn't help but flash a triumphant grin. Her mission to hear his genuine laughter, had succeeded, making the endeavor worthwhile.

She delved into her pocket, a carefree smile playing on her lips. With a shake of her head, a sense of familiar lightheartedness enveloped her as she pulled out a small bar of chocolate. The wrapper crinkled as she snapped off a piece, savoring the sweet and smooth relief it offered, countering the lingering aftertaste of the dubious stew. A sigh of contentment escaped her.

The sound of the crinkling wrapper drew Obi-Wan's attention, and he extended his hand expectantly. She noticed his puppy-eyed expression, silently pleading for a share. Momentarily indifferent, she watched him with amusement. However, true to their shared history of banter and pranks, she mischievously kept the chocolate just out of his reach, maintaining the playful spirit of their ongoing games.

"Are you truly so heartless, to let me suffer through the torment of this aftertaste?" His face twisted in misery, desperate for relief.

"Maybe," she replied with a sly grin.

"Cressida, please," he implored, injecting a touch of mock desperation into his plea.

Her amusement deepened. "You call that begging?"

“I beg of you, please, have mercy on my poor taste buds.” His words sought respite, even if there was a lightheartedness in his voice. However, it was the unbridled body-rocking laughter that she truly aimed to provoke. She chuckled and extended a piece to him, which he eagerly popped into his mouth, sighing in relief as the sweetness coated his tongue, banishing the lingering memory of the foul stew.

"That’s what you get for laughing at me," she teased, popping another piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"You wanted me to laugh," he countered, a playful glint in his eyes.

As their laughter faded, Cressida relented, and the two indulged in the sweet escape of chocolate, leaving the taste of the earlier dreadful stew as a distant memory. A light smile graced Obi-Wan's face.

"I did," she admitted with a genuine smile, handing him another piece of chocolate. He accepted it with a smile that held more light than dark. In that moment, she caught a glimpse of the Obi-Wan she knew, gradually emerging from the shadows that had veiled him. “So, are you man enough for another bite?” she playfully challenged, holding out the spoon as if it were a weapon and the soup was a battle. “Or are you still a padawan?”

Hands raised in surrender, Obi-Wan, with a twinkle in his eye, conjured an impression of Yoda, proclaiming, “Padawans to the will of the force we all are.” Her chuckle signaled her own surrender, and she set her spoon down. Once more, the two of them had been bested by the swamp water soup.

As their laughter subsided, a warmth settled in the room, replacing the earlier somberness. With a genuine expression, Obi-Wan shared.

"It's good to see you again." Obi-Wan leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes as he inquired, "How long are you home for?" Cressida's initial radiant smile underwent a subtle transformation, burdened by unspoken secrets and hidden sorrows—layers she couldn't unveil, not even to him.

"I managed to delay my next assignment until after Qui-Gon's pyre," she answered, her tone suggesting a reluctance to delve into the topic. The gesture was kind, and Obi-Wan understood it wasn't solely for him. Qui-Gon had played a pivotal role in Cressida's life, especially after the death of her own master, Deva L’Rue. She had always spoken of Qui-Gon's kind eyes and the warmth that could dispel even the coldest nights. "I wanted to be here for him, to say goodbye, and I wanted to see you."

“I didn’t see you there.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Would you?” She replied in a shadowy tone, a hint of a smirk.

It wasn't the wisest question, and deep down, Obi-Wan was aware of that fact. Still, he couldn't resist the urge to inquire about Cressida's next destination. Her response was met with a quiet, contemplative look, revealing nothing more than the simple truth that she would depart come morning. The weight of her impending departure struck him, but what she revealed next hit even harder.

With an expression bathed with pain, she uttered words that sent a shiver through him:

"I can't tell you where I'm going, but if you see me, you must act as though I'm a stranger. It has to be as if I don't exist."

The notion of treating her as though she didn't exist felt almost unbearable, a heavy burden on his heart. The harsh reality sank in – the likelihood of their paths crossing again was slim at best and even if they did, it was likely that she would see him but he wouldn’t see her. Beyond the confines of this room, the prospect of seeing her again seemed distant, and the awareness of this truth was a poignant pang of sadness in his chest.

He would miss the warmth of her smile, the shared pranks that brought laughter, and the stories they wove together – moments that were uniquely theirs. As the impending farewell loomed, Obi-Wan grappled with the ache of knowing he would never experience those cherished connections again. The sorrow cut deep, akin to the pain of losing Master Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon was gone, one with the Force, while Cressida would remain alive but lost to him, existing in a realm unreachable. And that was somehow much worse.

"Promise me you’ll be safe and you won’t give in to the darkness," Obi-Wan pleaded, his voice a gentle yet earnest melody, woven with a hint of vulnerability that only those close to him could discern. He was aware of the apparent futility of such a request, but the weight of his concern overpowered any logical restraint.

“Only fools make promises they can’t keep,” Cressida replied, her words resonating in the air like a melancholic melody. The truth within her response bore a potent sting, emphasizing the harsh reality they faced. “But I won’t go down without a fight.”

She wanted to tell him not to forget her, but that would defeat the purpose – she needed to be forgotten. A mere rumor, a hint of deja vu at best and just as easily brushed aside.

Her eyes, brimming with unspoken feelings, quickly blinked against the ambient light. A hasty attempt to shield herself from the approaching sadness as she shifted her gaze toward the door. Leaving now seemed the smart choice, a way to dodge any further pain they might endure.

Following the sensible choice, she slowly rose to her feet, facing Obi-Wan with a mixture of longing and sorrow. Silently, she wished to conjure words that could make their impending farewell more bearable, knowing deep down that no verbal solace existed for such heartache. As she prepared to take her leave, Obi-Wan's hand shot out, enveloping hers in a desperate grip. His eyes, once again shrouded in darkness and fragility, conveyed a plea that transcended mere words.

“Cress!” She froze looking at the death grip he had on her hand.

“I know it’s silly, that it’s selfish, but I’m not ready to go out there, yet.” His voice echoed with a genuine urgency, a plea for a reprieve from the impending separation. "Stay for a while longer, please,"

The vulnerability in his gaze exposing the depth of his need for companionship amidst the storm of emotions. In response, she nodded, acquiescing, and settled back into her seat. It would be fair to say she did it for him, but in truth she sat back down for her sake too. More than content to spend some more time by his side.

As they rested side by side, she laid her head on his shoulder, their hands clasped together naturally, fingers not quite lacing, and a tranquility enveloped them.

An unspoken change seemed to occur between them, a subtle shift in their connection that lingered in the air for the past two hours. They both sensed it but couldn't quite grasp its nature or how to address it, then there was also the possibility that it didn’t need addressing. Some things could simply be.

He couldn’t envision a world where if he saw her, he could say nothing, do nothing, one where he would have to simply watch her go. The weight of the thought was unbearable.

“I’m going to miss our conversations,” Obi-Wan murmured, she nodded, responding with a despondent "me too."

Obi-Wan looked down at Cressida, his thoughts meandering in the silence. Her padawan braid too, was absent yet he wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to it, he followed the path it once took intertwined with the rest of her hair. The strands cascaded freely around her shoulders, a departure from the neatly woven braid she usually wore.

“You–,”

He wasn't sure why he suddenly intended to express his amazement at her beauty, but he halted mid-sentence, realizing the danger of his words. A subtle smile played on her lips as she reached up to the spot where his padawan braid used to be, giving the short strands a playful tug; it was far less effective. He was going to leave a trail of broken hearts across the galaxy, starting with hers.

“Are you afraid?”

She replied softly, almost reluctantly, “Yes,” her voice carrying a vulnerability that echoed in the dimly lit room. She continued, “The thought of being on my own for the first time, truly on my own—it feels like standing on the edge of the galaxy, facing something vast and unknown. And I feel like I’m a Padawan again, and it all feels suffocating.” With those words, she pulled her knees up onto the bed, cradling them close to her chest.

His heart ached, and without hesitation, he lifted his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. In the solace of that embrace, she curled into him, inhaling deeply.

The fabric of his robes carried the same scent — a gentle blend of soft linen, reminiscent of incense wafting through the temple corridors, intertwined with the faint aroma of propulsion engines humming from passing ships. It was an olfactory symphony that felt like home.

She tried not to think about how much she would miss that smell.

“I’ll miss your smile and your jokes,” She murmured, punctuating her words with a gentle tap on his nose, coaxing forth that familiar, brilliant smile.

“I’ll miss your wit; delightfully dry but very warm and forgiving at the same time,”

Goodbye was inevitable, a looming storm on the horizon, and with each passing moment, they only delayed the impending downpour of pain. Obi-Wan felt the weight of the parting settling on his shoulders, sorrow he wished to stave off for just a little longer, he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

As if the word ‘yet’ could somehow serve as a buffer against the stark reality that awaited them.

Nestled comfortably in the circle of his embrace, she seemed so small, her knees drawn up to her chest, seeking solace within the haven of his arms. Sensing his lingering gaze, she looked up, and like a force beyond their control, a magnetic pull drew them closer. Their foreheads meeting, creating an intimate cocoon, noses brushing against each other in shared breaths that spoke of the intimacy they sought to prolong.

A gentle current passed between them, weaving an unseen thread that pulled them closer still, until a delicate adjustment on both their ends, saw their lips just barely brushing. In that fragile moment, a final delicate tilt led to a soft collision of lips—a kiss so tender it felt like a mere, featherlight caress, leaving behind a tingling sensation.

The fragile nature of the kiss spoke volumes, leaving a stillness in the room. After the span of a heartbeat, as if testing the waters.

Over the span of two years since their last encounter, Obi-Wan underwent a metamorphosis, elevating him beyond mere roguish charm to undeniably handsome. His essence, once a portrayal of youthful exuberance, had undergone a nuanced evolution that she almost missed. It was like revisiting a piece of art after a few years and seeing it in a new light, where new brushstrokes and colors revealed themselves, now discernible to a more mature gaze.

A strength now emanated from him, his shoulders broad and commanding, bearing the weight of accumulated experience and a more defined muscular frame. His jawline, once soft and smooth, had become chiseled and shadowed by a hint of stubble—a departure from the meticulous grooming of his earlier days. Even the hand clasping hers was marked by the disciplined use of a lightsaber, now carried a seasoned ruggedness, evidence of a weapon wielded not just in defense but in the heat of anger.

At the same time, beside him, the quiet symphony of the last two years unfolded, reminiscent of a familiar melody with newfound nuances to savor. The auburn cascade of her hair had departed from its habitual braid, flowing freely around her shoulders, appearing longer, darker, and richer. Her eyes, once vivid and expressive, now seemed stormier and grayer than usual, as if they already held the weight of countless secrets. They mirrored the tumult within, adding a layer of complexity to the evolving beauty that captivated his gaze. The subtle coral tint of her lips whispered an understated allure, and as his focus shifted, he traced the delicate curve of her neck. No longer possessing the innocence of a teenage girl, her form embraced the grace of womanhood. Soft curves delicately outlining an hourglass silhouette.

They leaned in again. This time, slightly firmer, the tingling sensation less intense but replaced by a growing warmth that enveloped them. Instead of breaking apart, they remained, savoring the connection.

Something shifted in the air when their lips met a third time, it wasn't a fleeting brush; it was a deliberate connection, a subtle acknowledgment of the emotions swirling around them.

As the older of the two Jedi, it perhaps fell into the scope of Obi-Wan’s responsibility to remind them both of their commitment to the Jedi Code and how what this was quickly becoming was drifting into a very gray territory. But he didn’t. All reason, logic and common sense demanded that he take his hands off Cressida, remind her of their ideals, wish her well and send her on her way, knowing he’d never to see her again.

Yet, he couldn't do it. He didn’t want to.

He hadn’t felt good in weeks and a stubborn resolve settled in, hadn’t they both been through enough to warrant just this one little indulgence? It would be their secret. He trusted Cressida to keep it.

Similar meetings and rendezvous between other Jedi were commonplace, this was no different, except somehow it was different. Words were unnecessary, but the very essence of their longstanding relationship teetered on the edge of transformation and neither seemed bothered by it.

"Never again," He whispered, his voice a soft caress that barely concealed the lingering uncertainty. They hovered on the precipice, lips nearly touching, both craving more, her face briefly contorted in confusion. "Do you agree? Beyond these walls, who knows if our paths will ever cross again?"

Her response was a hesitant nod, understanding what he was alluding to. "Even if they did, we couldn’t reach out to one another."

"Exactly," he exhaled, a sigh of relief that carried warmth, the atmosphere around them deepening like a smoldering ember.

"Your journey leads to Anakin." Cressida murmured, attuned to the subtle signals he conveyed. She dared another brush of lips, and he didn't pull away, in fact his arm around her shoulders drew her in more.

"And you'll serve the Council of First Knowledge in the shadows," Their coded responses granting them permission to explore the yearning that lingered between them.

"The Council doesn't explicitly prohibit physical connections," Her lips hovering just shy of his but aching to touch his again. "Only attachments."

This was dangerous, what they were saying, what they were doing, but it wasn't completely unreasonable. The idea hung in the air and they weren’t the first Jedi to entertain it, a place where physical closeness could happen without deeply connecting the soul—a tacit understanding within the Jedi Order, shared but unacknowledged.

"Only attachments,"

"We wouldn't be the first Jedi to—" Her sentence was lost beneath the weight of his more assertive kiss, his calloused hand cradling the gentle curve of her neck.

"And certainly not the last," he declared with more confidence, inviting a deeper exploration with the soft, lingering brush of his tongue against her lips.

"I have until morning,"

The ticking clock, counting down to their inevitable parting, stirred a quiet desperation in Obi-Wan. Sensing her already leaning into his touch, a gentle nudge on her back prompted a fluid response — she swiftly climbed into his lap, fingers weaving up his chest and twining around his neck.

Left with only a precious few hours, a fleeting pocket of time, really, it wasn't enough to satiate their hunger for each other's presence, but it would suffice. They both craved a deeper connection, a touch that went beyond the ordinary. While neither was inexperienced in the realm of sexuality, this felt new, an intimate bond unlike anything before. And who better for this exploration? Bound by years of friendship and deep trust, they offered a comfort the other could find nowhere else.

He led her into another kiss, skipping all subtleties, coaxing her mouth open to him with the finesse of a skilled lover. It wasn't reserved or ambiguous; it was a bold manifestation of touch-starved desires; a profound need etched in every shared breath.

Cradled in Obi-Wan's lap as if it were her rightful place, her fingers ran through his hair while their mouths engaged in a dance, relishing every tender touch of lips and the caress of tongues. The lingering taste of chocolate resurfaced in waves, weaving throughout the kiss with every roll of their tongues against one another, adding a layer of sweetness. This shared flavor, this secret bond, forged in chocolate-laced kisses, would resurface in their memories for years to come, whenever the taste or scent danced across their palettes.

Suddenly captivated by the allure that she possessed, painted in this new light as a lover. An unexpected yearning welled up within him, blending seamlessly with a growing desire that defied his initial expectations. The sight of her in this intimate moment no longer felt unfamiliar; it flowed as a natural progression in the intricate dance of their evolving relationship.

As his hand firmly pressed against the curve of her hip, drawing her into a closer embrace, the ambient temperature in the room seemed to escalate, creating an almost stifling warmth. The weight of his Jedi robes, once a symbol of order and duty, now felt burdensome and confining in the charged atmosphere.

A subtle exhale escaped him, a sigh of relief, as her skilled hands navigated the labyrinth of intricate knots, ties, and fastenings that held the layers of his attire together. Guided by a well-practiced muscle memory, her fingers moved with a nimble precision, each deliberate motion filled with a growing sense of urgency. The anticipation hummed in the air, creating an electrifying tension that resonated through every touch. The soft sounds of loosened fabric rustling in the room, adding a tactile rhythm to the charged atmosphere. It was as if the very act of undressing became a dance, a prelude to an intimate connection that transcended the boundaries of their usual roles.

But the soft click of his lightsaber clasp being freed of his belt resonated like a branch snapping. It found its place on a nearby table, guided gracefully by the unseen hand of the Force. As their lips briefly parted, their eyes met, silently probing for any flicker of hesitation or doubt. It was like a suspended dance, each metallic sound echoing the unspoken question lingering in the air. With nothing but the soft click of Obi-Wan's saber belt filling the space, it felt like an unspoken conversation happening amidst the sounds of undressing, each click asking, ‘Are we sure about this?’

The realization hit her that this wasn’t some fleeting or faceless lover; it was Obi-Wan. Somehow that knowledge made her more certain than ever, any lingering traces of guilt over the forbidden nature of this physical entanglement and its closeness to the rule regarding attachment faded.

He ceased to be just a trusted friend in that moment; he became a source of warmth, strength, and desire. A physical presence she craved, one who could offer not just comfort but also pleasure.

The ever-present storms swirling within Cressida's gaze were now tranquil and gentle, while the crystalline blue of Obi-Wan's eyes remained unwavering, shimmering with contentment and serenity. They both knew there was no turning back, and strangely, it brought them peace.

With the belt absent, his tunic hung looser, now unrestrained, her delicate hands made their way up the expanse of his chest. With a final tug, the linen fabric slipped off his shoulders, fluttering lifelessly to join the discarded belt.

Her eyes first traversed the canvas of Obi-Wan's body, starting from their shared eye contact before drifting down the length of his neck to his collar and the smooth expanse of his chest, and down his stomach. Appreciating the unblemished contours that spoke of youth and untarnished strength. Unmarred by the scars time would imbue on him. It was a captivating display of vitality, the hard, well-defined lines held her attention, ultimately leading her gaze down to the laces of his trousers.

Her fingers, possessed by a tactile curiosity of their own, followed the path her eyes had taken, eliciting a subtle reaction from Obi-Wan's muscles flexing under her touch. She followed the soft trail of light-colored hair that descended into his trousers, this Obi-Wan was different from the one she had known in her youth. He had transcended the realm of being just a boy, a mere padawan; now before her as a man, a Jedi Knight. These titles, only mere words, were devoid of meaning in the grand scheme of the cosmos, somehow only made her want him more.

Despite the years of their enduring friendship, she had never seen him out of his robes, never witnessed him in any state of undress. The revelation of his robust physical form unfolded before her like a long-awaited revelation, and it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that she found herself momentarily captivated by the sight before her.

The self-assured essence of Obi-Wan's renowned smirk subtly resurfaced with the slightest upturn of his lips. In that brief pause, he basked in the way she gazed at him. He knew he shouldn’t be vain, but he couldn't deny the satisfaction derived from witnessing her captivated stare.

With a tender encouragement, he drew her into another kiss, skillfully navigating past her lips with a practiced ease. His mouth moving against hers, slanting in a hungry kiss that savored every trace of sweetness he could find. Cressida's soft breathing played like a sweet melody, her constant featherlight touches and caresses along his neck and sternum, sent goosebumps racing across his skin, prompting a delightful murmur of contentment through his lips to hers. Studying his reactions and adjusting her approach accordingly, growing bolder and uninhibited, from soft, and ticklish that made him shudder, to the light sting of her nails leaving red lines down his stomach, each touch elicited a distinct response.

In lives dedicated to serving the galaxy, such indulgences were rare and often frowned upon, sacrifices made in the pursuit of duty. Yet, in this intimate moment, a different kind of service unfolded—one that went beyond expectations and quieted lingering doubts. A service to each other.

The weight of a single kiss was minuscule but as they grew more passionate and more frequent, they began to build up and Obi-Wan’s body responded. He gave a groan when a smooth rock of Cressida’s hips against this growing erection made him painfully aware of just how much of an effect they were having on one another.

His breath hitched at her touch, and his lips trembled, as if holding back unspoken words. Disengaging from the kiss, he circled his arm around her thigh while the other secured her lower back. With a seamless motion, he executed a flip, reversing their positions. As Cressida descended into the bed, Obi-Wan now loomed over her. His arms formed a cage on either side of her head, locked in place as he sank down for another kiss.

A deep, guttural sound escaped him as she skillfully wrapped her leg around his hips, drawing him in with a subtle and inviting roll. The ease with which she moved, exuding an innate intimacy, took him by surprise, as if they shared the familiarity of long-term lovers rather than the reality of their connection. An urgent energy coursed through both of them, and he sensed her fingers eagerly seeking the laces of his trousers.

Smirking against her lips, he left a lingering kiss before straightening up at the foot of the bed. He found amusement and intrigue in her slightly tousled appearance, paying particular attention to the way her gaze remained fixated not on his face but on the skilled movements of his hands as he worked on the laces of his trousers.

His fingers moved with a practiced grace, effortlessly unraveling the familiar knots while keeping his gaze locked onto hers. The air around them crackled with an electric charge, a mix of desire and a playful spark that danced between them. With the laces loose, he worked off his boots, each soft thud adding to the rhythm of their shared moment.

Obi-Wan's eyes held a fiery intensity, a playful smile playing on his lips. The way he looked at her, coupled with the easy progression of their actions, made everything feel just right.

She moved to the end of the bed, on her knees, bringing her only to align herself with the level of his chest, her fingers blazing a tantalizing path that stirred a visceral response, each touch sending shivers through him. When she cupped his erection through the fabric of his trousers, the room hummed with intense energy as his hips instinctively responded, rocking into her hand, finding pleasure in the firm petting, moving in tandem with the deliberate, unhurried rhythm of her caresses.

His eyes drifted shut in contentment as he felt a soft guiding pull on his trousers, coaxing him forward. He complied without hesitation, moving until one knee brushed against the mattress edge taking some of his weight, lowering himself slightly.

He surrendered to the sensations her caresses evoked, a ripple of pleasure surged through his body. His hips moved instinctually, pressing into the warmth of her palm, seeking out the pressure that sparked such intense delight.

With a gentle but insistent tug, his trousers gave way, the cool kiss of air against his heated skin contrasted with the warmth of her touch. Her fingers wrapped around him firmly, their steeliness belying the tenderness within her grasp, and from his parted lips escaped an involuntary exhale, sharp and laden with relief and want.

He watched her through half-lidded eyes as she began to slowly stroke him. Exploring him with purpose, each touch an experiment, an objective to learn what he liked, studying the language of his body. With a steadying breath, Obi-Wan reached down to overlay her hand with his own. His touch, suggesting rather than demanding, teaching her a rhythm that he liked—slow, but firm purposeful strokes that coaxed forth waves of pleasure.

His world narrowed to the slide of her skin against his, the pressure of her fingers, a tide of bliss rose within him, cresting with each deliberate caress, and his head fell back. His grip on her hand relaxed, arm descending heavily to his side.

“Yes, like that,” He breathed out, his voice barely a whisper thick with desire, accompanied by gentle breaths escaping in relaxed huffs.

She paused, just for a moment, to take in the sight before her. His chest rose and fell with a languid ease, the tension that had once claimed his shoulders now dissipated into the ether. Her gaze traveled across his handsome features softened in bliss, the arch of relaxation that bowed his brow, the serene slope of his cheeks, and the gentle parting of lips.

Bringing him pleasure filled her with profound satisfaction, to see him so undone. Completely relaxed and unburdened, knowing she was the reason for it, felt more rewarding than any thought of climax. She craved more of this power over his state of being, desiring to keep him in serenity and pleasure, wanting to make the most of it before their time ran out.

A sharper inhalation escaped him, replaced by a low groan as Cressida embarked on a heated journey down his stomach, mapping every contour and ridge of muscle, each press of her lips a deeper etch into the canvas of his body. A crescendo of sensation built as she explored him, teeth grazing his flesh in love bites that spoke of primal urges and the craving to claim and be claimed.

“Cress…”

Her lips left a trail pulsating with cosmic energy, fingers, attuned to the unspoken cues he'd shown her, continued to stroke him, causing his cock to throb under her skilled touch. Pearlescent precum beaded at the tip, a temptation she couldn't resist. With the pad of her thumb, she smeared the slick essence in lazy circles around the crown, her movements deliberate and languid. The sound that escaped Obi-Wan was pure pleasure—raw and unrestrained—as her thumb moved in a hypnotic dance, spreading the liquid fire that seeped from him.

As the circle of her thumb continued its leisurely glide over his sensitive flesh, he leaned into it, his chest heaved in deep and shaky breaths, the rhythm of his breaths growing erratic. He let loose a deep groan and gasp when she sank onto the bed and her lips closed over his weeping tip. The depth of the warmth of her mouth was a velvet glove around his length. Her tongue painted strokes of sheer pleasure with every swirl, causing many a deep stumbling moan and a visible shudder rippled across his entire being.

Her movements were unhurried, each lap of her tongue against him, coaxing forth more of his essence which she greeted with eager acceptance. With each inch she took in, she paused, allowing him to feel the heat, the moisture, the snug embrace of her mouth before retreating and returning with equal fervor. Obi-Wan's fingers twitched at his sides, slowly finding their way to thread through Cressida's auburn hair, gently tugging with each pulse of desire that shot through him.

The rhythmic movement of her head drew him deeper into a haze, his hips canting forward in an involuntary plea for more of her enveloping warmth. Taking what she could, but unable to swallow him completely, but what she couldn’t, her hands continued to stroke, caress and squeeze. He felt like he was falling into a thick fog, as he met the back of her throat and he moaned as she pressed a bit further.

She indulged him offering soft, sweet, indulgent suckles, lapping up more of the substance as it dripped from his cock. Lavishing attention on him, taking more of him into her mouth, basking in his ungentlemanly moans, making sure to leave no part of him unpleasured.

The vibrations from a moan—it was unclear whose—sent electrifying shockwaves through him. The blissful wet warmth of her mouth enveloping the length of his shaft, the soft flick of her tongue over his slit swirling, tasting. The instinctive thrusts of his hips, coupled with the crescendo of his thundering heart rate and hurried breathing signaled the rapid approach of an uncontrolled descent into pleasure. The precipice loomed, a sweet descent into abandon, and he edged ever closer, a hair's breadth from falling into oblivion.

He released her hair, his palm cradled her jaw, a silent signal that stalled the rhythm of their intimate dance. With a gentle insistence, he coaxed his hips away from the seductive embers of her mouth, refusing to be a selfish lover.

Gasping softly, Cressida lifted her gaze, her breath a warm caress against his sensitized skin. Her lips, glistening with saliva, parted slightly as Obi-Wan's thumb traced the soft curve with a painter’s precision. A faint shake of his head, subtle but meaningful, conveyed his message clearer than any word could: this was about them, not just him. She kissed his thumb, her teeth captured the pad gently, while her tongue played a teasing game, flicking over it with a playful intimacy that tested his resolve.

"Enough," he whispered, the word barely a breath yet heavy with intent. Obi-Wan's hands were tender as they guided Cressida in one fluid motion, she was on her feet, caught within the circle of his arms.

The kiss came without hesitation, fiery and demanding leaving no room for restraint. As the kiss deepened, Obi-Wan began a descent of passion along her neck, the warmth of his breath acting like a narcotic, bringing about a pleasant haze.

Each kiss was like a starburst, its heat searing her sensitized skin, leaving behind a trail of stardust. Her head tilted back, offering him more space to explore, to claim.

“You’ll bring a man to his knees with that mouth,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. The vibrations of his voice tickled her flesh, sending waves of anticipation through her core.

His lips found her pulse, latching onto the rhythm that hammered beneath her skin—a testament to the arousal coursing through her veins. It was a moment of surrender, of giving in to the torrential pull between them, and she could only clutch at his shoulders, grounded only by his strong embrace and the relentless pursuit of his mouth against her neck.

"Need these off," he murmured, his voice low and husky, eyes glinting with desire as they took in the unfamiliar sight of her clothing - an unusual departure from the usual Jedi robes.

The utilitarian style of her outfit, he thought, would have blended perfectly with the crowd outside of the temple, a far cry from the typical aesthetic within these hallowed halls. It hugged her figure elegantly; it molded against her curves, accentuating her feminine form. He couldn't help but admire how well it highlighted every enticing aspect of her physique.

His heart raced in anticipation of what lay beneath. As their lips met in a heated kiss, his fingers trailed down her back, feeling the soft fabric of her camisole, pulling the garment off over her head before his own hands roamed freely over her bare skin. He reveled in the contrast between her delicate form and his rough hands, savoring every moment of skin-on-skin contact. The discarded camisole joined the pile of clothes scattered on the floor, forgotten in their passion.

As his fingers traced along her body, he marveled at the softness of her curves, a stark contrast to the sharp edges and defined muscles he was used to. He explored every inch of her, from the gentle rise of her breasts to the smooth expanse of her stomach and the small dip of her navel. Every curve and contour entranced him as he moved lower, relishing in the feel of her under his touch.

While the visual allure had been captivating, Obi-Wan desired more than mere sight; he craved an exploration that engaged all five senses. He ushered her onto her back, embracing the softness of the bed, and for a minute she lay there under his gaze. Until now the sensual exchange of teasing and pleasure had reached its zenith, remaining largely one sided, and now the time for reciprocity had arrived.

His desire burned to taste and savor every inch of her body, an urgent need to dive deeper into their shared passion. Without hesitation, he joined her on the bed, crawling over her and covering her body with his own. Dropping to capture her lips in a searing kiss, opening his mouth to enjoy the lazy, sensual strokes of her tongue.

He blazed a path marked by faint red marks down the hollow of her throat, creating a deliberate descent to accommodate his exploration. Her skin was now completely exposed to him, inviting touch and tasting. Each movement of his lips and tongue was deliberate, making for an enticing descent that only intensified her anticipation. With every kiss and lick, she felt a rush of warmth and desire spread throughout her body. His gentle caresses were like sparks of electricity, igniting passion within her. The taste of her skin lingered on his lips, drawing him in with its sweetness and addictiveness. She trembled with pleasure at his touch, yearning for more of his skillful exploration.

With a sense of familiarity born from past experiences, he moved lower, his mouth finding the swell of her breast in a delicate dance. The sound of her breath quickened and her body arched in response to his attentions. Emboldened by her reactions, he proceeded with purpose and skill, exploring every inch of her skin with his lips and tongue. Each gentle suction on her nipple sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body, causing her mind to short-circuit in pure bliss.

She couldn't even finish saying his name before he was kissing and teasing his way down the plane of her stomach. A roguish glint danced in his eyes as he surveyed the damp trail his mouth had left on her skin, before trailing his tongue just above the waistband of her trousers. Locking gazes for a lingering moment, he blew a soft breath against the damp skin, reveling in the sight of goosebumps rising on her flushed skin. The intensity between them continued to grow as they explored each other's bodies with reckless abandon

“Obi-”

A smirk played on his lips. His fingers curled around the leather of her boot, tugging it off and flinging it carelessly over his shoulder. The sound of impact echoed in the room as the second boot joined its mate against the wall. With a graceful ease, he moved back up the bed towards her. His movements were slow and calculated, like a predator stalking its prey. He reached for her waistband, deftly undoing the clasp and pulling her trousers down her legs. Each inch of skin that was revealed was met with fiery kisses, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Her skin was warm silk under his palms, “Close your eyes.” His voice sounded different, lower, darker, heavier with lust. Impossible to ignore, so she complied.

The silence between them stretched on, the air thick with tension and anticipation. She could feel his warm breath placing a soft kiss that sent little electric shocks through her skin. Slowly, he made his way up her legs, leaving a trail of kisses along the way - her ankle, knee, thigh, and finally her hip. A shiver ran down her spine as he dipped his tongue into her navel, teasing and tantalizing. She wanted to open her eyes and take in the sight of him, but she resisted, focusing instead on short controlled breaths to maintain some semblance of calmness.

Just when she thought she had found her center again, Obi-Wan shattered it with a fluttering of his eyelids and a tender kiss between her legs. As his tongue traced the seam of her lips, a rush of desire washed over her, melting away any remaining resistance. In that moment, she was completely lost in the sensations he created with each gentle flick and stroke of his tongue.

Her calm broke instantly, her lips parted but not real sound came out right away, only a desperate, mewling cry. His fingers traced delicate patterns along her inner thighs, adding to the sensations created by his skilled tongue. She couldn't control herself, her hips moving against him in search of more pleasure.

Searching for purpose, her hands tangled with the linens, gripping them between her fingers, desperate for something to occupy themselves with. The lines of the sheets granted her mind a momentary easement, their softness offering a tactile anchor. But they were a poor substitute for the warmth of Obi-Wan's skin; she wanted to touch him, her fingers began to cramp from her grip on the linens and she reached for him.

Reveling in the soft texture of Obi-Wan's hair. With a sense of relief, she combed her fingers through the short strands, savoring the sensation of them brushing against her palms. Occasionally, stroking the tips of his ears, eliciting a pleasurable shiver from Obi-Wan. He visibly melted into her touch, silently pleading for more of her soothing caress.

The warmth of his breath, the soft wetness of his tongue and the occasional featherlight strokes of his fingers offering exploratory touches over her skin continued to stir up a crucible of competent sensations working towards a boiling point of inevitable pleasure. His pace was lazy and relaxed, offering the same intimate attention she’d given him finding a profound satisfaction in the way she writhed against his mouth and into his touch. Seeking out and easily honing in on that little delicate pearl of nerves he offered gentle licks and wet open mouthed kisses that had her seeing the stars behind closed eyes. She could scarcely breathe, much less barely able to utter a single syllable that didn’t turn into a moan or a whimper, speech was simply impossible under Obi-Wan’s ministrations.

Her gentle caresses of his ears being the only power she had over him, and it was an odd thing that such a simple touch yielded such a reaction. When he stumbled, it was just enough of a lull for her to regain her ability to think and speak, the need in her voice when she called his name, drew his gaze from her weeping pussy.

“Obi-Wan, please.”

He took in deep breaths, his expression focused as if he was deep in thought. It was a side of Obi-Wan she had never seen before, one that seemed to revel in giving pleasure instead of receiving it. She placed her hand around the back of his neck and used just enough pressure to make him abandon what he was doing and sink into her mouth. She couldn't resist the urge to taste his lips, now flavored with her own essence.

His aching desire was evident as his erection brushed against her stomach, causing both of them to shudder with pleasure. He wanted to take her right then and there, but he wasn't sure if she was ready.

"Open your mouth," he whispered, tracing her lips with his fingers and sending shivers down her spine.

She hesitated at his request, but quickly gave in when she saw the concern in his eyes. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss, savoring the taste of his moan. Her hips rolled against his hard cock, showing him just how much she wanted him.

"It’s alright, I don't need it," she said, taking his finger into her mouth and sucking on it like she had done to his cock not long ago. "I need you."

She sucked gently, feeling him stiffen further against her, an embodiment of their shared longing.

His reaction was immediate; his eyes flared wide, a visceral response to the intimate caress. She felt his chest rise and fall with a heavy breath, his heart racing beneath the warm skin.

With a reluctant shake of his head, as if to dispel the haze of overwhelming arousal, he withdrew his finger from the wet warmth of her mouth. The slick path it traced over her skin was a silent tease, a fleeting promise before dipping lower. His touch was feather-light, barely there, yet enough to elicit shivers of anticipation. Then, with precision and an almost unbearable gentleness, he slipped between her legs, venturing into the heat that beckoned him with unspoken pleas for fulfillment.

"I know," he whispered against the velvet of her lips.

His words were a silken thread weaving through the heightened tension between them, binding her to the moment. She offered no resistance as his index finger slipped inside her, a gasp escaping her lips that was quickly swallowed by his mouth descending upon hers once more. Her back arched instinctively, pressing her closer into the heat of his body as she moaned with burgeoning desire.

The sensation of his thumb drawing lazy circles over her sensitive flesh sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her. Each circle was a promise, each gentle stroke a tease coaxing her toward an edge she was all too eager to tumble over.

His finger was soon joined by another, both moving within her with an intimacy that had her inner muscles clenching around him. It was a gripping sensation, holding him captive just as much as it promised sweet release. He swelled with anticipation, the thought of being enveloped entirely by her warmth stoking the hunger that simmered within him.

"Want you to come undone for me first," he murmured, his voice a husky timbre that vibrated through her. The rhythm he set with his thumb and fingers was unyielding, a steady pace that was relentless in its pursuit of her climax. Each motion pushed her further, her body responding with mounting urgency to the dance they performed together.

"Come for me, Cress," he coaxed, his breath hot against her skin as kisses peppered her neck, her jaw, returning again and again to claim her mouth. The sound of her name on his lips was a catalyst, fueling the fire within her, propelling her toward the precipice she stood upon. His desire was her command, and she could no more stop the oncoming storm than she could cease the beating of her own heart.

Obi-Wan's breath hitched in his throat, a shudder rippling through him as Cressida arched beneath the attentive ministrations of his hand. With each tender caress, she writhed, her body singing a symphony of pleasure that resonated in the stillness of the room. Her whimpers and moans filled the air, the sweet sounds of surrender mingling with the rhythmic creak of the bed. Shocks of delight traced the pathways of her nerves, her every muscle tensing and releasing in euphoric waves.

As the crescendo of her ecstasy ebbed, she lay quivering beneath his touch—a testament to the depths of pleasure he had coaxed from the core of her being. Her chest rose and fell with the heavy breaths of satisfaction, eyes glazed with an afterglow that spoke more than words ever could.

With only a hint of encouragement, she reached for the fastening of his trousers—an eager accomplice in their mutual undressing. The fabric whispered against his skin as she peeled it away, casting it aside without care. They lay forgotten on the floor, a casualty of their fervent desire.

“You’re so beautiful,”

He’d refrained from the comment earlier, feeling it would only make things harder but at this point it was irrelevant, the pain would come later, for now they would relish in the pleasure as long as it was theirs to claim. For a moment they hesitated but not from fear, not from nervousness, there was just a gentle lull that passed between them. There was peace, warmth and closeness. A subtle shift, a tender adjustment, and Cressida's leg draped over his waist, the gesture as inviting as the crescent moon's arch. It was all the encouragement he needed. Obi-Wan's resolve crumbled like ancient ruins under the caress of time, his hips descending to meet hers with deliberate care.

Cressida's breath caught as Obi-Wan stilled within her, his body taut with restraint. It hadn’t been so long that the sensation was marred by discomfort; rather, it was the realization that Obi-Wan — this man who had been her friend, at times her protector, her unexpected source of solace — was now her lover.

A shared silence hung heavy as he allowed the tremors that wracked her form to ebb away, leaving in their wake a raw openness she had never before experienced. His gaze locked with hers, a silent question lingering within the depths of his eyes, seeking permission to continue this dance of passion.

With a subtle shift of her hips, Cressida answered him more eloquently than words ever could; a silent plea for more, urging him on. He pulled back, only to rock into her again with a slow, deliberate motion that spoke volumes of his control

“Kriff!” He’d never heard her swear before the harsh sound made his cock twitch in response.

Seeking her mouth again, he set a slow rhythm, a little too slow for Cressida’s liking and she tried to nudge him into a faster pace but he resisted, instead compromising by punctuating his thrusts with a bit more force. This seemed to satisfy Cressida and she purred his name, laying siege to his exposed neck, taking care not to leave any marks that would send tongues wagging but also strong enough to leave a lasting impression.

“Cress, let me kiss you.” The neediness in his voice accompanied by his deeper thrusts, prompted her to abandon her pursuits on his skin and she embraced his mouth instead, wrapping her arms around his neck.

The bed gave a subtle creak but neither noticed it, the room filled with murmurs and desperate breaths in between kisses. There were no barriers between them, physical or otherwise and as the warmth of his skin radiated onto hers, she saw something no one else did.

And there he was—Obi-Wan the man—stripped of the Jedi mantle that cloaked his humanity.

Warm, soft, tender, sensual, a bit on the aggressive side but that suited her just fine, every rock of his hips forward saw a wealth of pleasure surging forward as powerful as the force itself and she felt like in that moment with their bodies joined, she could move the very alignment of the planets themselves.

It had always been of the hard and fast nature with her other lovers but with Obi-Wan, it felt like the force was speaking to her, telling her to slow down and what kind of fool argues with the Force itself?

She wrapped her legs around him and held him back with a little bit of pressure on his hips, stalling his rhythm.

A softer kiss much like their first seemed to hold his attention and allay his confusion, and when she gave a gentle shove on his chest, he didn’t fight it, falling over onto his side then rolling to his back. Cushioned against the pillow he lay there looking up, letting his breathing even out, she resumed the position he’d held over her, straddling his hips, fingers gliding up his chest, to his lips. Greater than any piece of art that any museum could ever hold, she wanted to enjoy him from this superior angle.

His lips parted maybe to speak, maybe not but the featherlight touch of her fingers over them stopped any potential words, his tongue darted out to wet his lips and to put a stop to the maddening tingling sensation she was creating as it was growing to be too much. She shushed him gently and kissed her way up his chest taking all the time she wanted.

The Jedi were not just mere followers of the Force; they were its devout servants. Their strict code governed every aspect of their lives, from their daily habits to their relationships and even their capacity for joy. However, there was one area that the Jedi Council had overlooked: intimacy. Despite the Council's decrees on denying oneself such physical connections, the Force still spoke through this sacred act of creation. She felt no remorse for giving in, as she knew the will of the Force was greater than any man-made rules.

She closed her eyes and reached for his temple creating a physical bond to strengthen what they were sharing, he at first seemed confused by her actions but with a quick adjustment of their positions, she sank down on him. And a surge of something washed over him, more than sex, more than pleasure, more than a bond or a mental connection. Wanting him to experience what she was and the way his eyes went wide saw her intention met. She began a soft rock of her hips and his eyes fluttered closed, letting this new experience take over him. Letting it permeate every inch of his body, all the way down to his bones, he lay content and at peace in tune with the cosmic thrumming of the universe until she broke contact.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her as though he’d seen the soul of force itself, like for the briefest moment he’d held all the answers and all the questions ever possible to behold. He smiled and rested his hands on her hips urging her to move a little more, and she did. Raising herself up slowly before easing back down, his chest rumbled with a groan. This slow sensual pace was perfect, hitting places deep within her, she swayed slightly each time she sank back down on him, and he began thrusting upwards, refusing to close his eyes, not wanting to miss a moment of what he was seeing.

The softness of the rising moonlight cast shadows through the room that cloaked Cressida in shadows, perhaps all too fitting of a metaphor for this night and the future. But he pushed past and chose to ignore that, instead focusing on what he was seeing, she was beautiful, and even if it was just for the night, those few hours that no one would ever know about; she was his.

The slow pace brought about an appreciation he had overlooked when it came to sex, until now it had been a physical release, a fun one but nothing more. Was this what they called love making? It didn’t make sense, how could that be if there was no love between them? Affection? Yes, certainly. Trust? Implicitly. But love?

No.

He decided not to dwell too deeply on such thoughts and to simply enjoy this, pulling her hips forward with a bit of a jerk and a sharper thrust up, the pace remaining unchanged but punctuated by a bit more force.

He pushed himself into a seated position, spreading his legs to give himself a bit more leverage and wrapping his arms around her, not deterring her rocking hips but to have another kiss and to keep her close. Close enough that he could feel her breath, see the quiver of her lips, pick apart all the shades of gray and ‘almost blue’ in her eyes, close enough to kiss her wherever he wanted. A wayward hand tangled in her hair pulling her mouth against his, swallowing the sound she made when he thrust his hips up sharply. He liked this position, they both held power, he could feel every little jolt of her body, keep her squeezed to him tightly, feel the beat of her heart. It was good but not without its flaws, he could already feel the strain on his back and the ache in his legs but he could hold out for just a little bit longer.

“Obi-Wan…”

She wasn’t aware she'd said his name, not until his movements stilled and he gripped her chin to bring her to look at him. His eyes filled with concern but it was fleeting until he realized his name had been uttered in rapture and it satisfied him to no end.

“Trust me?” She nodded, of course she did.

He held her tightly in his arms as he thrust up, feeling her tightening around him. He could feel himself throbbing with pleasure. A gentle kiss and the caress of their tongues led Obi-Wan to roll them again so they were lying on their sides, with him behind her. Planting kisses on the back of her neck, he brought her leg up over his hip. "Just like this," he guided before slowly sliding back into her warmth, eliciting a groan from both of them. His arms wrapped around her hips, keeping her close as he continued to thrust at this new angle that seemed to bring them both immense pleasure.

“Stars!” She exclaimed.

“I’ll show you the stars, I promise.” His breathy response as he increased his pace, thrusting faster.

“You already have.” She replied, slightly out of breath.

“Close your eyes and see even more.”

Without questioning him or his intentions, she closed her eyes and let Obi-Wan lead them to a perfect climax. Behind her closed eyelids, there were tiny twinkling lights dancing, soft and gentle. When his hand found its way between her legs, those little orbs exploded like bright shooting stars. He grunted as she tightened around him, causing his steady rhythm to falter slightly.

“See them?” He gritted through clenched teeth.

“Show me more!” She demanded.

He nodded against the back of her neck and began thrusting harder and faster, putting all his weight behind each movement and stealing small gasps of air with each one. His hand never stopped its steady stroking, turning those soft orbs of light into blazing supernovas that lit up the darkness they had both been consumed by, driving it away.

His breathing became erratic, and the crushing weight that had been on his shoulders for days seemed to dissipate. He desperately needed one last thing: a final burst of stimulus.

His left hand remained between her legs, determined not to move until she cried out in ecstasy. As his right hand found her temple and he gently bit down on her earlobe, their years of friendship and intense bond bridged the gap between them. With each rhythmic thrust, they faltered again, until the touch of his hand pushed them over the edge and they were enveloped in a cosmic wave of pure bliss. She cried his name, begged him for more, pleaded for him to take her harder, moving in perfect harmony with him as his body spasmed and he too reached the pinnacle of pleasure, calling out her name in guttural cries. His hold on her temple was too much to maintain, and he lost all sense of rhythm.

In one last feat of agility, he shifted their positions while still inside her, looming over her as he drove into her with all his remaining strength. Thrusting wildly, each movement accompanied by her cries echoing through the room. Then, she pulled him into a passionate kiss, their lips and tongues meeting in a messy tangle of desire and need. Finally, as the electric shocks running through his body began to subside, they both collapsed in complete exhaustion.

Her chest heaved, eyes finally opening, the storms calmed into a soft overcast, Obi-Wan’s eyes were devoid of any turmoil, swimming with serenity.

“You’re shaking,” She whispered, he smiled at the observation, as if he could bring himself to stop trembling after that.

“I’ll be fine. Are you alright?” She kissed him deeply, drawing a contented murmur from Obi-wan, he waited for her answer but as the seconds ticked by her lips showed little sign of stopping, moving down his neck. “Cress…”

“I'm fine, Obi-Wan,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice strained with determination.

She met his gaze, her legs wrapping tightly around his as their bodies rolled over in a tangled mess of limbs. Obi-Wan's muscles screamed for relief but he couldn't resist her, his body too weak and exhausted in the aftermath of his climax. He looked at her with burning curiosity, knowing that whatever was to come would push him to his limits.

"Tell me if it's too much," she whispered breathlessly, her fingers digging into his skin.

"If what's too much?" he gasped, already feeling the strain and pain building within him. But he welcomed it, craving the intensity and challenge.

His words were cut off as she slid him out of her heat and moved down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. Realization dawned on him when she reached his hips and before he could utter another word, her lips were once again wrapped around his cock. A deep groan rumbled from his chest, a combination of the visual pleasure, the knowledge that she was tasting their combined release, and the tingling sensitivity that clawed at him, rendering him truly speechless.

As she devoured him with her mouth, his eyes rolled back into his head and he couldn't help but moan in ecstasy. The sensation of her velvet lips and insatiable hunger reignited his desire, causing his body to respond once again. His quickly grew hard and thick again, aching for more of her touch.

"We have all night," Cress purred in between licks, her hand expertly stroking his length just as he had shown her earlier. "And I can sleep on the ship."

Her words only fueled his fire, knowing that they could continue this pleasurable torment until the sun rose.

The night blurred into a haze of sex, pleasure, and indulgence that few Jedi spoke of or experienced. Wave after wave of carnal release washed over them, pushing them to the brink of pleasure and beyond. As they embraced each other in the throes of passion, the night disappeared into oblivion.

~~~

Morning's rays crept across the bed, a golden snare that caught Obi-Wan's tired lids and pried them open against their will. A groan escaped his lips as he shifted beneath the sheets, the world outside pressing into the fog of his groggy mind. Muscles that had known countless battles now throbbed with an unfamiliar pain—an intimate ache—each movement igniting a cascade of hyperawareness that rippled across his skin.

For a moment, he lingered in the half-light of dawn, floating on the edge of consciousness. He grappled with the tendrils of sleep, trying to recall the events that led to such soreness, such profound fatigue. But memory was elusive, slipping through his mental grasp like sand through fingers.

His breath hitched as clarity struck, ice water in the veins, and Obi-Wan bolted upright. The room spun briefly before settling into its mundane familiarity: the stoic walls, the simple furnishings—a refuge from a galaxy in turmoil. Yet something was amiss, a disturbance that sent his heart skittering.

He scanned the space, eyes landing with a dull ache on the untouched expanse beside him. The sheets there were cool, meticulously straightened, void of the warmth of another's presence. A pang of loss clutched at Obi-Wan, an echo of the coldness of that vacant place.

His gaze drifted, taking in the tidiness of the room—the orderliness that spoke of solitude. His boots, once haphazardly discarded in the throes of passion, now stood sentinel by the wall. His robes, their folds speaking of careful hands, rested on the chair alongside his lightsaber, a silent guardian within arm's reach.

Silence hung heavy where laughter and whispered confidences should have filled the air. The table, now barren, gave no sign of the shared meal it had hosted—no crumbs, no lingering scent of spice or sweetness. It was as though the night prior had been carefully erased, leaving behind only the tangible tokens of his own existence.

Obi-Wan's throat tightened, the emptiness in the room mirroring the hollow sensation within his chest. Where warmth had been, there was now only the stark reminder of isolation—a contrast as sharp as the blade he wielded. His hands clenched into fists, the ghost of another's touch still haunting his skin, as he faced the day alone.

She was gone.

He lay there for a moment, the weight of her absence settling over him like a shroud. The room seemed to echo with the remnants of their passion, a tangible thing that he could almost reach out and touch. It hadn't been romantic – no, such things were not for Jedi – but it had been real.

Obi-Wan rose and dressed silently, his movements mechanical. His fingers brushed over the spot where her lightsaber had rested, and he wondered if the yellow blade felt as cold and alone as he did now.

Despite everything, he couldn't regret what had transpired. Last night, they had shed their roles and simply existed as two beings seeking solace in one another. There was beauty in that, he thought, and a connection that went beyond the physical.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Time to reforge his resolve, to take up the mantle of mentor to Anakin.

But first, he allowed himself one final indulgence – a lingering touch on the pillow where her head had lain, a silent promise to remember the feel of her lips, the sound of her laughter mingling with his own.

Then, just as the first rays of dawn splashed gold across the floor, Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out into the day. Alone, yet forever altered. He looked out to the rising sun that shed its light over Coruscant and murmured to the stillness knowing she would never hear it.

"May the Force be with you, Cressida."

~~~

Phew! Well, hope that gives you guys a little of what you were looking for and some more insight into Obi-Wan and Cressida's past! If you like this then please feel free to reblog, like, comment, and let me know your thoughts! Alright! Now we can get back to getting these two crazy kids back together! @heyhawtdawgs. @split-spectrum(because you're a fan of the man! I thought you'd like this too!) @pickleprickle @burnthecheshirewitch

You guys are the best cheer readers I could ask for! See you in the next chapter!

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sanjithesimp · 2 years

Text

imagine doing a lap dance to zoro, feeling his hardness on you as he watches your body swinging and moving to the rhythm of the deafening sexy music, his lips graze your soft skin, his hands travel all over your body. leaving him needy and breathless at how much he wants to take you to a dark room to rip your clothes off and fuck you.

#damn #those dirty thoughts hitting wayyy to hard #i mean why am i thinking about this before going to sleep #zorororonoa #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro smut #one piece smut #op smut #op #one piece

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sunnys-sonnets · 7 months

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Where is the sonnets, sunny

Listen listen, you have some excellent points there, but have you considered--

runs away

#sunny's answers #I am both ashamed and proud of my sins in this fandom #somehow there was a tumblr post disgusted and angry about one of my stupid Atreussy sonnets #and not about any of the insane Heimtreus smut fics I've written #like I'm pretty sure that means I haven't made it or they don't think I'm worth the time to read the degeneracy I have written and posted #and like wth that shit hurts #like what in the pillsbury dough boy fuck do you mean that you're not leaving hateful comments on my Heimtreus fics?? Those are MASTERPIECE #Masterpieces of toxicity and co-dependency and twisted love and adoration for something completing opposing each other #it's gorgeous and grotesque and it is up on Ao3 FOR FREE you Assholes!#Fucking READ my hard work #like damn hand over the HITS AND COMMENTS even if they are just saying how I'm a sinner and going to hell for this because that is legit #what those comments look like #because what in the puritanical fuck is that about #if I wanted to hear that shit I'd go to church but no instead I get to see my friends deal with it online for drawing fictional characters #making out or something i don't know #what was I talking about? Sonnets? No.... I'm distracting you instead

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mermaidgirl30 · 1 month

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could you write a drabble of Joel x reader and it’s their first date anniversary she completely forgot about. Joel is on a work trip away and he door dashed a dozen roses to her and she was so impressed by his tech savviness and sweetness she surprised him with the best sex face time ever?! thank uuuu 🥰🥰🥰

Hello! Just whipped this up last night so I hope you like it 🥰 Special thanks to @mountainsandmayhem for hyping me up with this one 🩷

✨Happy One Year, Baby✨

Summary: You forget your one year anniversary with Joel and don’t remember until you see a dozen roses with a love note left on your doorstep. Since he’s away on a work trip, you decide to get all dolled up to give him a little show over FaceTime

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Porn with Plot, phone sex, masturbation, fingering, sweet words, flirting, Joel and reader being in love, love notes, Joel sends reader flowers, One Year Anniversary

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You slam the shiny car door closed and hit the lock button as you tread up the driveway, dragging your heavy heels against the hot concrete as you take a sigh of relief that you made it home from a hectic day at work. When you turn the corner onto the porch, you stop in your tracks, almost slipping on your high heels.

Flowers? Who got you flowers?

Right in the middle of the open porch is a glass vase full of a dozen ruby red roses, all dewy and glistening from the heat rays of the Austin sun. You grab up the flower vase and unlock the door, hurrying to set them down on the glossy kitchen counter as you go to grab the little note that’s tucked inside the roses.

Happy one year anniversary, sweetheart. Sorry I can’t be there in person. Hope this will help brighten your day. Can’t wait to come home to you.

- Love always, Your Joel

Anniversary? No. It couldn’t be. You run over to the calendar and place your finger over the date. A big red heart sits marking the day, April eighteenth, your one year anniversary with Joel. Fuck!

You didn’t remember. How could you have not remembered? This date was so important, you knew it was coming up. You knew.

You run down the long wooden hallway and throw off your work clothes in a rush, slipping out of your business attire as you open the top drawer of the solid white dresser. When you open it, you find the delicate set of lingerie you’d been saving for Joel.

You run your hands over the see-through pink lace as you take in the sewn flowers on the delicate material. These were supposed to be for when he got back, but you’d make an exception. He got you something for your one year anniversary and this would be his surprise. You had to make it up to him somehow for forgetting, so why not now?

You run your fingers through your curls, letting them fall to your shoulders as you swipe some fresh deep red lipstick over your silky lips. You purse your lips and then slip on the lingerie, turning around in the mirror to assess your sexy outfit. Joel is going to love this.

Grabbing the phone off the shelf, you scroll to find Joel’s number and then FaceTime him as you sit on the edge of the bed with only your face in view. The phone rings and rings until he finally answers on the fourth ring. His face comes into view as you put a big smile on just for him.

“Hi, gorgeous. Just get home from work?” he asks as you take in his blue button-up jean shirt. The one where he always rolls the sleeves up to his elbows which makes his corded, thick veins sweep down his forearms. God, you wish you could feel those arms right now, feel them wrapped around your thighs…

“Yep, just got home a few minutes ago,” you nod, trying your hardest not to ruin the surprise as you keep your blush to a minimum.

“Find anything waitin’ for ya?” he asks with one brow raised in question.

“I sure did,” you giggle. “The flowers are beautiful, babe. Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Just wish I could be there with ya today to celebrate. Can you believe it? One year already?” he asks incredibly, a small smile slipping over his mouth as a dimple sinks deep into his cheek.

God, he’s so handsome.

“I can’t believe it either. Seems like just yesterday you were asking me on our first date. Remember the popcorn at the movie theater and how you spilled it on my lap?” you laugh, letting your voice carry through the bright room with soft green walls.

He chuckles, his voice echoing through the phone as you can’t help but smile back at that beautiful sound. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are ya?”

“Never,” you smirk.

“Just what am I gonna do with ya, darlin’? Hmm?” he asks as he runs a hand through his tousled curls of dark hair.

“I don’t know, but I can think of something I can do for you. You know, since you’re not here and all. Thought I could give you a little anniversary surprise,” you smile as you bite your bottom lip, nervous from the building adrenaline in your body.

“Oh yeah? What’s that, darlin?”

“Why don’t you take a look for yourself.”

You drag one silky bra strap down your shoulder and tip the phone to your cleavage, giving him a show as you press your breasts together and expose the pretty lace you bought just for him.

“Shit, I’m still at work, baby,” he whispers with a tight throat, his eyes already widening as you hear Tommy quickly approaching him.

“Hey, is that your girl on the phone? Let me tell her happy anniversary.” Tommy reaches for the phone, but Joel quickly snaps it against his broad chest and gives him a heavily coated excuse.

“Uhh, sure. I’ll tell her, Tommy. Service is kinda shitty in here, so I’m just gonna go out to my truck for a few minutes,” he says shakily as you hear his leather boots hitting gravel as he steps outside.

“Gonna go out to your truck, huh?” you giggle as you push yourself up from the silky sheets and pad over to the dresser, hanging in front of it as you fix a flyaway hair.

“Mhm. Gotta talk to my girl properly, and I can’t be doin’ that in front of the boys now, can I?”

You see him climb into his white Chevy as he sits in the passenger seat, making the door slam shut as you finally get a view of his beautiful face again. But you notice one thing in particular, his cheeks are flushed red.

“Did I make you nervous, Mr. Miller? Or is that just the sun on your cheeks?” you tease as pull at the straps of the lacy bra, letting the material stick to your glowing skin.

“Yeah, yeah. Quit teasin’ me and show me what you have on, baby. C’mon, you know you want to,” he responds with a flashy smirk, one that nearly sends your head spinning.

You set the phone down on the dresser as you stand back, doing a slow turn as you show off all your curves and soft lace. You hear him whistle low as you give him a show, pushing your breasts together as you bite your lower lip.

“You like what you see?” you ask, all lilty and inviting.

“Fuckin’ love it, baby. You look so fuckin’ good in that little outfit. Wish I wasn’t in Arkansas so I could put my hands all over that skimpy lingerie,” he says as his eyes darken, his pupils starting to expand as you see the lust growing over his rugged features. You knew this would work, you knew he’d love it.

“Yeah? You really like it? Picked it out just for you. Why don’t I show you a better angle?” you tease.

You crawl onto the end of the bed, letting your ass hang in the air for a few seconds before you turn and end on your knees, your fingers sliding up and down your thighs seductively as you push your breasts together and crawl on all fours.

You hear Joel suck in a breath and see his face is wrecked, his breathing heavy as he focuses solely on you and not losing control of himself. “Goddamn it, baby. You gotta quit teasin’ me. I’m already…”

You interrupt his sentence. “You’re already what? Hard? Is that it?”

You hear him huff, his nostrils flaring as you see him grip the side of the door with large fingers holding tight, his jaw going from relaxed to flexed repeatedly. Yeah, he’s hard.

“Darlin’, now if you don’t stop I’ll…”

“You’ll what, Joel? Cum? Oh, I want you to cum. Please, I want to hear those sweet grunts of yours through the phone as you call my name. Wanna hear you getting yourself off on that hard cock of yours,” you chuckle, biting your lip as you torture him with your words. You’re having way too much fun with this.

He huffs out evenly before he speaks again with calm words flowing through the phone. “Now I want you to listen to me, sweetheart. I want you to show me exactly how you’re gonna get me hard. Go ahead, lay on the bed. Be a good girl for me now,” he instructs, his deep voice even as his ragged breaths blow into the speaker. He’s already so hard. “Go on now.”

You smirk and lean back against your elbows, playing with your hardening nipples under the sheer material of the bra as you open your legs and let him take in the already damp pink panties. You unhook the bra and throw it to the floor as you knead your breasts together, stifling out a groan as the cool air hits your exposed nipples just right.

“Goddamn,” Joel groans as he rakes a hand through his salt and pepper scruff, fighting everything in him to leave the worksite and drive straight home to you. He wants to, he wants to so badly. “You’re not makin’ this easy on me, baby. I’m about to say fuck it and drive home to ya. Wanna get my hands on that perfect body of yours,” he growls, eyes as black as the dark sea at dusk.

“I wish you could,” you say with a huff, your body relaxing as your legs splay across the bed, giving him the best view of your clothed pussy. He groans at the inviting sight. “Best I can do right now is this.”

You slip your fingers down your stomach, working them slowly over your folds as you start to rub your aching center, making your panties sticky with slick and wetness. You sigh at the contact, itching for more.

Joel watches you with hungry eyes, his lips twitching as you swear you see a bit of drool on the edge of his plush lips. God, what you’d give to have his fingers on you right now.

You tease him more, sliding the material back and forth against your clit as you choke on a moan, the lace hitting just the right spot as you tug at the lacy bottoms.

“Shit, baby. Let me see ya. Let me see that pretty pussy. Don’t be shy now. Show me,” he growls, his words hungry for more as you hear him unbuckle his leather belt, the zipper being pulled down as you hear him slide his cock out of his denim jeans. Fuck.

You slowly pull the wet lace down your soft legs and let them fall to the floor as you smirk up at him behind fluttering eyelashes and wink as you spread your legs wide, giving him exactly what he wants.

“Goddamn, baby. You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans as he wraps his hand tight around his thick cock, slowly starting to slide the precum up and down slowly as he focuses solely on you.

“This what you wanted, cowboy? Wanted to see me touch myself while you watch?” you smirk, letting your fingers start to circle slowly around your clit as you hold in a moan.

“Fuck, yes it is,” he growls as he spits in his hand and brings it back down to his leaking cock, fisting himself as you hear the wet sounds of his fingers sliding up and down his slick cock. Fuck. It sounds like music to your ears.

“Wanna feel you inside me, Joel. Wanna taste your cock as it slides in and out of my mouth,” you groan as you speed up the tight circles on your throbbing bundle of nerves. More slick pools in between your thighs as you think of his thick cock driving in and out of you until you get your fill of him. He makes you so full, he always does.

“Christ, you’ve got a dirty mouth, baby. Don’t worry. When I get home I’m gonna give ya just what ya need. Gonna taste that pretty pink pussy as I make you cum again and again. Gonna fill ya up with my cum as I fuck you deep into the mattress. Gonna take what’s mine,” he growls as you hear his breathing go ragged, his brows knitting together as he works at his slippery cock. You know he’s close, you can tell by the way his tattered breaths come in and out like he just got done running a marathon. He’s wrecked.

“Oh yeah,” you moan as you slip your middle finger inside your dripping hole as you continue to meticulously circle your aching clit. You’re so fucking stimulated that you can barely think straight. The pressure’s building, almost there.

“Go on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Let me hear those pretty moans,” he says with lust filled eyes.

You circle once, twice, three times more and then you’re done for. Your entire body shakes as your eyes roll back, the slick gushing out onto the now ruined sheets as you feel your body float off the ground.

“Oh, that’s a good girl. That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he growls as he speeds up his hand movements, the slick noises filling the speaker as he sounds so fucking delicious.

“Let me help you out,” you purr as you place two fingers at your entrance, slowly dipping inside as your mind goes numb.

“Oh shit, you gonna give me another one, baby?” he asks with a wrecked voice, beads of sweat sticking to his glistening forehead as he works at his large erection.

“Mhm, just for you. Wanna hear you fall apart for me,” you giggle as you choke on another moan when you hit that sweet spongy area that makes you see falling stars.

You know what will make him fall apart. You know exactly what will make him come undone. So you do it, silently giggling to yourself as you know this will make him break.

“Oh, Joel?” you ask sweetly as you gather up some slick on your fingers.

“Yeah?” he asks with a tortured look, the furrowed brows forming deep lines on his forehead as he concentrates on not falling apart just yet. He wants to make it last, but you want to watch him break.

“Think I found something sweet for you to eat,” you smirk as you take two slick coated fingers and place them slowly in your mouth as you seductively suck them nice and slow, feeling the sweetness coat your tongue as his mouth drops open.

“So fucking sweet,” you purr, and that makes him lose it.

He groans out and continuously fists himself until you see his head falling back and his bulging muscles in his neck tightening up. He hisses out with furrowed brows, and then you see his lips part as he moans out your name nice and slow. His hand stills as he takes nice deep breaths, his body exhausted as he lets his spend slide down the palm of his hand. Fuck, is it pretty.

He takes a second to compose himself, catching his breath as he breathes out a request. “One more. Give me one more, baby. Do it for me.”

You smile and happily oblige as you sink two fingers inside your dripping pussy, leaving the heel of your hand digging into your clit. Fuck, it feels so good.

“Joel,” you moan out as you fuck your fingers up up up until you’re hitting that sweet spongy sponge that has you right on the edge again.

“One more. Put one more finger in, sweetheart. You can do it,” he encourages as his deep voice reverberates off the walls.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you stretch yourself, feeding one more finger inside as you move all three in sync, feeling your walls spasm around you as you near your sweet orgasm.

“That’s a good girl, shit,” he groans as he leans forward and stares right at you through the camera, his black pits large as he feeds on watching you fuck yourself over and over again, wishing it was his thick fingers inside you.

“There ya go, pretend it’s me, baby. Think how full, how good I make you feel. C’mon, darlin’. Spill for me. Wanna hear you scream my name, wanna know just who makes you feel good,” he growls.

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back as you feel the hot heat slide down your spine, ending in slick spilling out onto the drenched sheets as you scream Joel’s name all high pitched and needy. “Joellllll.”

“Such a good fuckin’ girl. Goddamn, baby. Look at that mess you made. So fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” he purrs as you let your tired body collapse onto the silky sheets, letting your heartbeat ride out the waves as you let yourself come back down to earth.

You feel your muscles tingling, your legs so tired from shaking as the orgasms were pulled from your body. You’re so so tired, you want Joel. You need Joel.

“Joel?” you call out, your voice cracking as your heart races in your chest. You want his strong arms around you, want his soft lips kissing your head as you come down from the high. You just want him.

“What is it, pretty girl?” he asks as his warm voice takes over the speaker, making it sound like a soothing lullaby that could put you right to sleep.

“Need you,” you whisper, just enough for him to hear over the hollow breaths in your chest.

“Oh, baby. I’ll be home in a couple days. Just two more days than I can hold you in my arms. Can you come pick up the phone? Wanna see your face,”he lulls as you crawl to the edge of the mattress, your legs shaking behind you.

“I’m so tired,” you whine, your bottom lip pouting out as you sigh heavily.

“I know, baby. I know. Just try okay? C’mon, love. Get up,” he coaxes with his gentle, soothing voice. He’s so good at sweet talking you, always has been.

“Okay,” you nod.

You push your exhausted body up, barely able to walk straight as you grip the edge of the dresser and grab the phone, hauling it back to the bed as you collapse back into soft sheets.

“There ya go. There’s those pretty eyes I love so much. Did so good for me, my sweet girl,” he smiles, his eyes now that syrupy honey color you so desperately crave to see in person. He’s so pretty.

“I miss you,” you pout, eyes lingering on his as you let out a deep sigh. “I want you home, Joel.”

“I know, baby. I miss you, too. So very much…” he whispers as he smiles softly at you through the bright screen. You can almost smell the woodsy scent of his shirt, can taste the coffee that sits pressed into his tongue like a permanent tattoo. He’s your favorite person, your best friend.

“Happy anniversary,” you hum out, letting your smile stay pressed against your red matte lipstick.

“Happy anniversary, baby. You gave me the best gift,” he winks as you giggle in response.

“Well, I guess I should let you get back to work. I’m sure they’re wondering where you went,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up the phone.

“Yeah… guess I better,” he huffs as he takes his hand and rakes it through his scruff, trying to prolong the inevitable. “Just two more days, baby. Promise I’ll make it up to you when I get home. Gonna go nice and slow with ya, sweet girl,” he purrs as a large smile takes over his shining face. He looks like magic, like the love of your life.

“I’m counting on it,” you giggle as you let your head lay back into the cotton pillow.

“I bet you are,” he chuckles out as he zips his pants back into place and buckles his belt.

“Well, I gotta go. I love you, sweetheart. Happy anniversary, my love,” he smiles, a vision that knocks you to the floor.

“I love you, too. And happy anniversary, handsome. Can’t wait till you come home.”

He blows a kiss into the screen and then hangs up as you watch the line go dead. You plunge into the pillow and tangle yourself into the soft sheets, letting your body relax as you close your eyes and get settled in.

“Hurry home, Joel. I’ll be waiting.”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller pedro pascal #soft dom joel #dom!joel miller #the smut hits hard with this one #joel smut #joel miller one shot #pedrostories #pedro pascal

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