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chiriwritesstuff · 3 months

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The Girl in IT - 7. The All Hands Meeting

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: A look into a typical day at Miller Construction Group. Chaos ensues (naturally).

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Desk sex, Inappropriate usage of PowerPoint, Tommy fucks around and finds out, No Beta we die like men!

Word Count: 4.4K

A/N: And the hijinks are back! I wanted to try something new this week, and it was the perfect opportunity to showcase all of our fun supporting characters in 'The Girl in IT'! I thought what better way to introduce everyone was to include their commentary, like an episode of 'The Office'! This one is a doozy, and I hope you all enjoy!

#MCG ADMIN 50 members Sarah (HR) Good morning, Team! I hope you're all doing well. I'd like to announce a mandatory All-Hands HR Meeting today at 11 am in Conference Room A, co-facilitated by Tess and me. We'll have a brief presentation, and for those working remotely, please log into Zoom to join the meeting. Following the session, thanks to Bill, we'll have lunch and refreshments provided. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Looking forward to seeing all of you soon! Tommy Sarah, are you gonna bust your Papi's balls in front of everyone for posting that naughty photo? 💀☠️🪦 Frank (Interior Design) Will there be an opportunity for discussion following the presentation? I'm eager to delve into the minds of SlackGate and understand the motivations behind their actions the other day. Connie (Reception) It's clearly because they're fucking, Frank. 🍆🍑🦪 Frank (Interior Design) Who is? Our fearless leader and our shy girl in IT? Until one of them makes it official, it's just hearsay! Is this meeting a hard launch for a new power couple? 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 Sarah (HR) Yes, there will be an open-forum discussion after my presentation but NO, we will not be talking about the events of the other day in detail. Connie, this is a professional space and we will conduct ourselves as such. Connie (Reception) Why am I always being singled out?? Frank started it! Frank (Interior Design) Did I not professionally conduct myself? Geez Connie, I'm not the one sending nudes to our Boss when clearly, he has a girlfriend. Wait. Oops? (Sorry Connie 🤡) Bill (Civil) Frank! What do I have to do to get you to behave for once? Frank (Interior Design) Oh, I could think of a few ways... Why don't you come and find out once you're done handling your bratwurst out there? Sarah (HR) I don't get paid enough for this shit.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming together at such short notice. While I'm aware this all-hands meeting was abrupt, recent events in the past few days have made it essential. Tess and I genuinely appreciate your presence as we address these important matters," Sarah says with a bright smile, handing out materials. "Here's an updated Employee Handbook with a few edits. I thought it would be beneficial for us to go through it together. Are there any questions before we begin?"

"Yeah!" Tommy exclaims from the back of the room, his feet casually resting against the edge of the table. "How long until we get to the part of this meeting where we discuss just how much of a bad boy your Daddy was the other day?"

Tommy Look, I love my brother, I do. He's always so serious, so noble, providing for everyone and all that, making sure we have a roof over our heads. Shit, he's gotten me out of a lot of binds in my life- [He looks a bit uncomfortable and clears his throat, nodding.] ... anyway, it's a rare thing to see my brother slip up like that, you know? Didn't think he had it in him, honestly. It's been a few decades since I've seen his twig and berries, but shit, I know he's packing! He's a Miller, for fucks sake! [he puffs his chest out a little at that, chuckling to himself] But Sugar? She's been a fucking godsend! Never in my life have I seen my big ol brother act a fool, especially over a woman! What can I say? It's great to not be the fuck-up brother for once! I'm gonna milk out SlackGate til the end of time!

"Tommy," Joel warns through his teeth, glaring at his brother. "Cut it out."

Sarah rolls her eyes in response as she fiddles with her laptop, the projector behind her illuminating with her PowerPoint presentation. "Like I was saying, this presentation is just going to go over the changes we have implemented in the last few days, including proper Slack etiquette and conduct. You would think that as grown adults, we would know better than sending inappropriate images and messages through company property and time," she clears her throat, glancing over at Joel, then to Tommy, who winks in her direction knowingly. "...including those who decide to engage and participate in unsanctioned secret channels-"

Frank's hand suddenly shoots up, his face awash in mock outrage. "I'll have you know, the watercooler channel serves a purpose, folks! When I caught wind of this 'secret channel' gossip circulating among the Nosy Nancies in the breakroom, I was appalled! Who would dare to stoop so low—"

"Frank, you invited me to the chat just this morning," Jesse remarks, casually holding up his phone as evidence. "It's titled 'Frank's-secret-slack-chat.' I thought it was some kind of exclusive club or something."

Frank Hi, [waves to you] is this on? Yeah? Hi. I'm Frank. Listen, Sarah was getting a little too vigilant about monitoring Slack ever since Tommy sent us a little treat last year [he laughs] so I had to do something about it, you know? [It pans out to Frank leaning against his desk chair, typing away on his secret Slack Chat.] The chat started as an open forum for discussion on the everyday going-ons of Miller Construction Group. Do we just so happen to discuss the private lives of our peers? Maybe. Do we mean any harm by it? [He gives you a wicked smile] Maybe.

"You guys, you know, the longer I keep getting interrupted, the longer we're all going to stay here in this conference room, and the longer we have to wait to eat Bill's food. You know how he is," She looks outside of the window, the smoke from Bill's grill swirls like a plume as he flips over a juicy steak. "He hates it when he has to serve his food cold. As I was saying, it should be obvious that we shouldn't be sending inappropriate images or photos to one another through Slack or e-mail."

"Hey! It was just one time, and it was an accident!" Tommy retorts, "Besides, it was hardly inappropriate, I was just only trying to show Maria this weird rash I got-"

"What does that mean, anyway?" Connie cuts in, casting a glance your way. "Inappropriate photos? And is there a difference between accidentally sending them or doing it on purpose?"

"Yeah," you shoot her a pointed look. "Sending nude photos to someone who doesn't want them is actually considered sexual harassment," you say, raising your voice a bit and turning in your seat. "I mean, you could get arrested for that, Connie," you add with a sing-song tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you glance at her. "You have nothing to worry about though, right?" you challenge, rolling your chair towards Joel, and taking his hand in his. "Not unless you did send naked photos to my boyfriend?"

Connie Look, I didn't know that Mr. Miller and Sugar were boning. I know how this looks- like I don't believe in girl code or something. I am a girls girl! If Sugar was just forthcoming about who gave her those damn hickeys before SlackGate happened, I wouldn't have sent her boyfriend nude photos of myself! A girl's gotta try, you know? I was only trying to shoot my shot! [She looks a bit uncomfortable, picking at a hangnail.] ... but you have to admit, Mr. Miller is H-O-T hot. God. I love me a graying man in flannel. I always thought to myself, there must be a story here. How does a millionaire who looks like that be single all this time? does he have anyone? is it a sugar baby? does he have a secret love child? I mean- [she looks over her shoulder where Joel is, arms around his chest as he winks at Sugar. There's a hint of jealousy in Connie's eyes.] Is it true, though? Is it really sexual harassment if I send unsolicited photos of myself? Do you think he's gonna press charges?

"It's true. Sending unsolicited photos of yourself to unsuspecting parties is sexual harassment, Connie. Not to mention creepy," Sarah winces, shooting you an apologetic smile. "So please don't be sending any photos of that nature to anyone that you work with, especially not in the admin group Slack."

"Yeah, Joel!" Tommy chides. "Keep that shlong in your pants, brother!"

Sarah You would think that working for my family is a cakewalk? Please. I've been diagnosed with IBS and GAD since I started working here five years ago. I sometimes take half an edible just to make it to lunchtime. [Her head rests on her desk, and as the events of SlackGate unfold, an endless barrage of messages from the admin Slack channel floods her monitor. She can't help but groan in response.] Listen. I love my Dad. I've never really had to worry about his behavior at work before, not like how I have to with Uncle Tommy... but what the hell was he thinking? I can't unsee that! What if Ellie was on that chat? Could you imagine the trauma? My trauma?

"Okay, let's turn to page 12, where we'll go over all the recent updates," Sarah announces, clicking through her PowerPoint. A collective gasp echoes in the room as the slide projects onto the screen, revealing an image – the image of Joel. However, where his exposed package would be, an eggplant emoji tastefully takes its place. It resembles one of those generic memes easily made with a phone app, complete with the semi-imposed words 'Keep Calm and Shlong On!' in big bold letters.

"Shit!" she exclaims, hurriedly pressing the ESC button as she tries to close out her PowerPoint. She slams her laptop shut, the tell-tell sound of a crack echoing throughout the conference room. You hear Tess silently scoff in the distance, and Sarah closes her eyes in embarrassment as the room falls silent.

... and then, all hell breaks loose.

Tommy is beside himself, his face red, and his eyes filled with tears as he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his middle. "Shit, Henry! When I asked you to do this, I honestly didn't think you had the balls to go through with it, but I so owe you, my man!" he exclaims, enthusiastically high-fiving his nephew-in-law. "This is the best fucking day of my life!"

"Henry?!" Sarah exclaims, her face flushed with rage. "This is what you needed to do in the office at 6 am this morning?!"

Henry's expression crumbles as he witnesses his wife's ire, suddenly realizing that he's just dug himself into a deep hole. "Sarah," he stammers, attempting to regain composure. "This isn't what it looks like—"

Henry Yeah, Tommy asked me to put that meme into Sarah's PowerPoint last night. I would have done it at home, but Sarah doesn't like to bring her laptop home, you know, work-life balance? So I had to make an excuse to come to the office this morning. Was it a dumb ass idea? Yeah, probably. Did I kind of want to get back at Sarah's dad for making my life a living hell? [He looks at you awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.] Honestly, when you're like five beers in, drinking with Tommy- everything seems like a good idea. He dared me, you know? Said that I'm such a simp, trying to always please Joel. Called me a fucking pussy and everything! What else was I supposed to do? Sarah's going to kill me, huh? Do you think that she's gonna ask for a divorce?

"It's a meme. A meme of my Dad's dick pic with AN EGGPLANT EMOJI?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??! WHAT DID YOU MEAN FOR IT TO LOOK LIKE?!" she screams, pulling at her hair. "AND YOU, TOMMY MILLER!" she points at her uncle furiously, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!"

"Baby," Henry replies, his hands raised in an attempt to calm her down. "It's just a harmless prank, look—"

"No, you look, Henry! Does it seem like it's just a harmless prank?" she gestures to the room, her eyes wide. "Don't even think about coming to bed tonight. I can't even look at you! How dare you collaborate with Tommy, do you really want to go this way? Because I see you fucking around, and you're about to find out-"

"Oh come on, Sarah! you know these all-hands meetings are dull as fuck, I don't even know why you even bother, no one ever listens anyway!" Tommy exclaims, looking around the room. "Isn't this fun you guys? Come on, lighten up! It's not like y'all haven't seen my dick before! Your Papi's gonna live another day, I think we should all feel as comfortable as we want, fuck the rules!"

"...but Joel's is much bigger than yours!" someone yells amid the chaos, laughter, and banter echoing through the room. Sarah looks around helplessly in a panic, trying to grasp the situation unfolding.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I ain't small!" Tommy yells in retaliation.

"Do you think that this is helping, Uncle Tommy? I'm beginning to believe that the only reason why people don't take me seriously is because of all of the shit that you pull!" Sarah groans, looking like she's at the end of her rope. "I could mention that Tess is helping me facilitate this meeting to scare everyone but she's just off to the side, pretending to not be drinking under the table!"

Tess [She is sitting off to the side, smiling to herself as the chaos ensues, shaking her head.] I am drinking, because who else thinks it's appropriate to call an all-hands meeting first thing in the morning? I don't even want to be here. It's so fucking pointless, trying to get these shitheads to conform to a set of rules. [She witnesses Joel storming up to Tommy, his face full of rage and irritation, finger pointed right at him.] This is the consequence of hiring friends and family, isn't it? I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but who's listening to me? I get it, everyone thinks I'm a bit of a bitch, and well... yeah, I am. Alright, time to rein this in— [She suddenly stands from her seat and walks over to Sarah, who appears to be disassociating into madness.]

"HEY!" Tess bellows, clapping her hands together. The room abruptly falls silent, Joel's hands frozen mid-grab on Tommy's flannel. Forty-eight pairs of eyes pivot towards Tess, a blend of shock and embarrassment spreading across their faces, reminiscent of children caught sneaking cookies from the jar by their mother. "Okay, that's enough!"

Her eyes are narrowed, hands on her hips. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to stop sending each other dick and tit pics through Slack, because as much as it is amusing," she smirks, winking at you, "I would really rather not have to deal with the fallout that comes with it," she shoots a pointed look at Connie, whose eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

"The next time someone tries to fuck around and find out? I'm going to take that dirty photo, print a thousand fucking copies of it and stick that shit all over the office. Every fucking inch, every fucking nook and cranny is just gonna be dick and tit central," she paces around the room, placing a warning hand on Frank's shoulder. "As for this secret Slack chat, I'm going to give you all one chance to come clean. If you don't, and Sugar's report doesn't match who outs themselves right now," She scans the room, a smirk on the corner of her mouth appearing in satisfaction. "Yeah, you didn't think that we were monitoring that shit, huh? Well, I'll throw you all a bone: raise your hands if you are in this secret group chat, and I'll consider not docking your pay for insubordination. Your choice."

Frank [Looking at Tess as she slightly stumbles from where she's standing.] Yeah, she's toast.

The majority of the room begins to raise their hands, except you, Tess, Joel, and surprisingly, Frank.

Tess scoffs. "Really Frank? Really?"

"I have no clue what you're trying to imply, and seriously Tess? Are you really going to play that card? Are you going to dock your pay too?" Frank retorts. "I mean, just last night, you were drunkenly telling me that you heard Joel and Sugar-"

"If you utter another word, I'll fire you on the spot, Frank!" Joel shouts from across the room. "I mean it this time!"

Joel and Sugar [Joel wraps his arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your forehead while gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ears.] There, that's better. Don't hide your face, Mami; you're too beautiful to be hiding all of that, okay? Right, [he clears his throat.] You would think that people would be a little more professional around here, show me a bit of respect— [His gaze shifts to Tommy, who's engaged in laughter and banter with the team, his chest puffed out in triumph. Joel glares at him, shaking his head.] I'd like to think I try really hard to be a good boss. I pay fairly, I allow remote work, and damn it, I take pride in offering the best employee benefits in all of Austin. We even take a company trip to Hawaii every year, for fucks sake! [You squeeze his hand, pressing a kiss to his temple as he takes a frustrated breath.] Papi, if it means anything, I think you're the best boss any of these folks could ever ask for. They don't deserve you. [Joel nods.] Look, I don't know what to tell you. I got the ride of my life that morning, my sweet Mami riding my cock just right, you know? I would have been okay, going into my meeting with blue balls, just as long as Sugar got hers. Your pleasure is my pleasure... but I was just so fucking horny! I started to work out, yeah? Wanted to keep shit tight for my baby, and fuck, I was... what do they young kids say? Feeling yourself? [Joel nods again, smiling at you.] Yeah, 'feeling myself' or whatever. Anyway, I was in the meeting, and you messaged me, right? saying that you weren't going to be in for lunch? and I don't know if was the disappointment, or if I was just too horny, but fuck. I quickly excused myself and took a quick dick pic in my bathroom. I thought I was in the right Slack channel... so I sent it, and then the guys at The H Group asked me a whole bunch of questions, and then an hour later- Chaos. The messages kept flooding in! Frank was asking about how long I was, and Connie was sending me nude photos of herself- in my fucking office! Wait, what? [Your gaze meets Connie's, nervously seated as Frank goes on and on beside her. Her hands twitch like a possum that just got run over by an 18-wheeler. Yeah. Squirm for me, you think to yourself.] Yeah! And I just sat there, in shock, you know? Like this is the kind of shit that Tommy pulls, and I couldn't believe that I was so fucking stupid! Can you imagine the kind of therapy Sarah's gonna need? What if Ellie saw this?

"Who's up for some snacks?" Tommy calls out to the team, holding a basket filled with rather sizable cucumbers, bananas, and eggplants. "Help yourselves, compliments of Joel!"

Ellie [at the job site across town, hard hat fixed crookedly on top of her head.] Yeah, I saw it. There is not enough bleach in this world that could ever erase that image from my existence. [she glares at Sam, who just shrugs.] Thanks a lot, asshole!

"Alright, you degenerates!" Bill booms, bursting through the conference doors wearing a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, tongs in one hand, and a tray piled high with thickly cut steaks in the other. "This steak isn't going to eat itself!"

The team swarms Bill like seagulls spotting a tasty piece of bread on the boardwalk. Tommy grabs a t-bone with his bare hands, biting into it with the enthusiasm of a caveman.

"Hey," Joel whispers to you, his shoulder gently bumping yours. "Want to help me with something?" You nod eagerly as Joel swiftly guides you out of the conference room, heading towards the executive offices. You giggle as Joel ushers you into the room, pulling you into a kiss, his foot playfully kicking the door shut.

He moves the both of you over to where Tommy's desk is, pushing aside its contents off the tabletop in one fell swoop, the items clattering onto the floor. "Papi, what are you doing?" you ask cheekily as he bends you over the desk, lifting your skirt.

Joel growls and shoves you down onto the desk, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. Your arms scramble to find purchase as you knock over a framed photo of Tommy and Maria, watching helplessly as the image of their smiling faces falls onto the floor. His palm travels across your back, pinning you in place as he fiddles with his zipper with his other hand. "Line item 6," Joel murmurs as his hands begin to travel across the globes of your ass, squeezing and spreading and slapping them until you're so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs.

Joel hums in appreciation. "Thats right Mami, get nice and wet for me, okay?" You can feel him pump his cock against you, notching his head at your entrance. "You gonna make a nice mess for me, baby?" he asks through gritted teeth as he strokes through your folds with his dick.

"Yesss," you moan, pushing your ass back toward him.

Joel pushes into you to the hilt in one brutal thrust as you cry out, grabbing onto the edge of the desk as he begins to pound into you in earnest, his thrusts so hard and punishing that the desk begins to rattle. You squeeze your eyes shut as Joel gathers your hair in his hand, pulling you back towards him. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna come so fucking hard, fill this pussy up and watch as it drips out of you, maybe fuck you again if we still have time-"

You gasp, taking a deep breath as his thrusts become so erratic it pushes you up the desk, lifting one leg onto the surface as Joel angles himself higher, hitting a spot so deep within you that you bite your lip from crying out, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. You squeeze around his cock as you chase your high, hoping that Joel can maintain his composure long enough so you both can finish together. "No Mami, stay with me, come with me-"

He leans over you, pressing you onto the desk as he grabs onto your shoulders, pounding into you, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face into it, huffing from exertion. "I'm so close Mami, I'm gonna... Fuck!" He bites your shoulder as he cums in one last brutal stroke, his hands harshly grasping your thighs as you feel his hot spend flow deep into your belly. You rock your hips onto him as his hand goes to your clit, rubbing until you are weak in the knees, your body trembling beneath his. "Fuck Joel," you say a little breathless as you slump onto the table as Joel pulls out of you, his finger probing into you as he pushes his leaking cum back where it belongs. "Come on, lets clean this up and head back before they notice-"

Joel just snorts as he zips up his jeans. "No," he replies nonchalantly as he catches his breath.

"No?" you ask as you straighten yourself up, frowning at him.

"Line item six says I bend you over his desk and leave a little souvenir," he motions to the mess on the floor, pens and papers scattered about.

"He's going to fucking murder you, Joel," you chuckle, pulling him into a kiss.

"Yeah? Well, he shouldn't have fucked around, because he's about to find out." He simply replies, taking your hand in his. "Come on, little Mami, quickly now, before he realizes we're gone..."

You share a laugh as he guides you back into the conference room. Bill raises an eyebrow at both of you, handing over a plate with steaming steak, as if he just finished cooking it. "I thought I'd save your lunches for last, figured you guys needed some extra time," he says, clearing his throat and nodding towards Tommy, who seems entirely oblivious to your brief disappearance. "You know Tommy, can't resist a good piece of steak," Bill continues, gesturing at Joel. "It's like everything around him disappears for a moment; you could rob him blind, and he wouldn't even notice," he adds with a small smile, placing a hand on Joel's shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "Enjoy your lunch, you two."

Bill Look, I wouldn't call myself a nosy person, but I am perceptive. [He glances at Frank whispering and giggling to Connie off to the side, rolling his eyes.] Look at them. They think that they're the eyes and ears of this operation, but what they don't know, is that I. Know. Everything. I am a survivalist. I gather intel on all of my surroundings, even if I am surrounded by absolute morons. [Bill takes another sip of coffee, subtly glancing around him before making eye contact with you, the reader, once more] So if you want to know the real scoop, the real ins-and-outs of this company, and not have to deal with the lunatics in Frank's not-so-secret shit talk club, come to me, I'll set you on the right path. At least I have snacks. [He looks off to you and Joel, giving a curt nod as he starts to cut into his own steak.] As much as I respect Tommy, he's not the one signing my checks at the end of the day. If there's anything that I value more than anything, it's loyalty. I don't like to play around, hate it when people bite the hands that feed them. People like that need to be taught a lesson. Joel's a good man, and sometimes, we fuck up... but it's how we handle ourselves after the fact that matters. If that means I help out an old friend, well- [he smiles as Tommy walks towards the conference room doors, heading back to his office. Bill smiles out into the distance.]

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @gwendibleywrites @brittmb115 @joeldjarin @drewharrisonwriter

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@amyispxnk @untamedheart81 @paleidiot @laurrrra @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@bbiophiliaa @thewiigers (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

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die-pink-maus · 2 months

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📖 Mein Tutor 📖

❤︎ Darawing Credits: @shkretart ❤︎

Synopsis: Reader makes a New Year’s resolution to be more productive, finding herself fascinated with language, she decides to hire an in person tutor to give her the run down on Deutsch. However, turns out that learning German isn’t the only thing on readers mind…or her tutor, König’s 🤭

TW: 18+, MDNI, heavy smut, fluff fluff fluff, MDom, age gap relationship (26/41), dirty talk, female pronouns used, fingering, p in v, eye contact during seggs, size kink, female reader, vanilla seggs

AN: This is a ✨one shot✨ all the goods are here and there aren’t any additional parts. I would say this is a “medium” burn lol, there’s quite a bit of background and dialogue before we get into ITTTT. I’m learning German at the moment and my tutor is really cute, so it made me think hmm…😂 Also, I do tend to write König as a softer character, so this won't be for you if you don't like fluff, but I'm going to try my hand at a more domineering version of him soon. I hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 5,412

❤︎Like & Reblogs Are Greatly Appreciated!❤︎

Enjoy! 💋

I’ve never really been one for New Year’s resolutions, but considering how chaotic my life was last year, I figured setting a goal or two for myself would probably do me some good. I’d been searching for new and productive ways to spend my free time for a while now, and discovered that I really enjoy learning new languages. Language has always been incredibly fascinating, but I never realized just how fascinating it could truly be until now. He’s retired, ex military, and practically everything about him is unknown, down to his name as he only goes by his former callsign which is König. He’s shrouded in mystery with just the right amount of danger — everything from the way he caries himself to the black ski mask he wears during our lessons is telling of his obscure and likely troublesome past. But behind this large secretive wall appears to be an overall happy man, one who chooses to spend his free time teaching people such as myself how to speak in his native tongue — German. He’s an incredible teacher, he’s taught me more than I ever thought was possible in two months. He makes our lessons enjoyable and fun, I’m almost always ready for our next lesson the minute one ends. I practically count down the days of each week, patiently awaiting 7pm on Friday nights when he graces my front door, barely able to walk through the door frame without bumping his head due to his unbelievably tall and brawny stature. I think about him more than I’d like to admit. The sweet praises that escape his lips at the end of each lesson, how the wrinkles around his stunning blue eyes crinkle up when he listens to me say a new word he’s taught me — I assume he’s smiling considering I can’t see anything other than his eyes. “Very good, schatz.” He says as he gives me a playful round of applause. There’s something about him that draws me in. I don’t really know what he looks like, but from what I can see, he’s perfect. Probably the tallest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, a muscular physique that never goes unnoticed even in loose fitting clothing, it’s damn near impossible for my mind not to wander off. I know he’s much older than me, and for all I know he could have an entire family with a wife and children. Considering how sweet he is, it wouldn’t be surprising at all. I’m not too sure if German is considered a language of love by many, or anyone at all, but he has a way of making it sound so sexy. I’m damn near hypnotized by the rough and rugged tone that coats each word he speaks. Even in English, his accent is absolutely endearing, it takes everything in me to keep my composure as my core heats and arousal slowly begins to glaze the soft pink cotton of my panties.

Our lesson is almost over for the evening, but I’m feeling a little bold…another thing I promised myself this year is that I won’t allow fear to control my life. I doubt I ever cross his mind. He probably doesn’t look at me or think of me in all the many ways I do with him given our age difference, but I’m old enough to know what I want. Tonight’s the night I start making it clear that I’m interested, and if it’s not reciprocated, at least I tried. He began packing away his notebook and heading towards the foyer when my eye caught a glimpse of a vintage bottle of red wine I’d bought earlier in the week. “Um,” I began hesitantly, my mind sorting through ways in which I could make him stay a little longer. I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the bottle of wine, along with two glasses from the cupboard above. “Any plans for this evening? I was thinking…maybe you’d like to have a glass of wine with me?” I blushed. The look in his eyes was reminiscent of a deer in headlights. Figures he’d be caught off guard, considering we’d never spent time together outside of our lessons. “Well, I don’t have any plans at all,” he laughed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, the wrinkles around his dazzling blue eyes crinkling up. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else you’d rather share that with? Looks like an expensive bottle, don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate you sharing this with the strange masked Austrian man who comes by to teach you German once a week.”

“Well, who said I had a boyfriend?” I giggled, my cheeks ablaze from slight embarrassment at his assumption. “I just assumed that a beautiful young woman such as yourself…” He began as we held each other’s gaze. “So is that a yes or no?” I smirked.

“Alright, wine it is.” He said hesitantly as he removed his boots. “I’ll invoice you for the extra time later.” He teased. We both took a seat on my sofa “Prost!” I smiled after I poured us both a glass, and raised my glass with him. “Sehr gut, Schatz!” He praised before raising the edge of his mask up to his nose and taking a sip. This is more of him than I’ve ever been able to see. His jaw line is strong and chiseled, peppered with an even layer of stubble. “Alright, you have to tell me,” I began. “Why do you wear the mask?”

He paused for a moment, thinking of an answer to a question he probably gets quite frequently. “There are quite a few reasons…” he sighed. “The military has and always will be a large part of my life, I suppose there’s some comfort in it for me. Maybe I just feel a little exposed without it because I’ve worn one almost every day of my life since I was a teenager.” He laughed. “Also, there’s the matter of safety…”

“Why would you need your mask for safety?”

He sighed, “It’s complicated, but there are situations you can sometimes get yourself into that cause you to make enemies out of people you wouldn’t really want to make enemies with.” He said. It hadn’t really occurred to me until just now that he’s more than likely had a hand in ending someone else’s life. It sounds silly, because he was in the military so I should have just assumed, but aside from the mask and his large, intimidating body, it’s kinda hard to picture him as some ruthless assassin. All of our interactions thus far have been so pleasant, and he’s never been anything other than a gentleman, there’s a part of me that wonders… “Are you okay?” I asked, a pang of immediate regret stirring within me as soon as the words left my lips. I guess I just can’t imagine having to do the things he probably had to do. I don’t think I’d be okay, I don’t know how I could cope with taking another life, or watching the life of someone else get taken. He cocked his head to the side, eyes slightly squinted as he let out a brief chuckle. “You know,” he began. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before…” he trailed off. “I would say…I wasn’t always okay, it was very hard in the beginning, but over time I’ve learned to be okay.” He beamed, a softness gleaming in his eyes, almost as if he was glad I asked. “I’m happy to hear that” I smiled.

I’d like to think I was able to gain his trust that night, something I know is probably a challenging task for many others. Since then, we’ve made it somewhat of a tradition to share a bottle of wine after each of our lessons. Sometimes he even cooks dinner and chefs up a few of his favourite Austrian dishes. Nothing makes me melt more than seeing how overjoyed he is that I’ve enjoyed something he made. Another two months have gone by, and it’s safe to say that he and I have been growing…closer, but be has yet to make an actual move. The ball is now in his court, so let’s see what he does with it. It's Saturday and I'm bored as hell. We spoke earlier and since we both aren’t doing anything, we decided maybe it would be a good idea to do something together, so I invited him over. This would be the first time we’d be spending time together where a lesson hasn’t taken place beforehand, so as excited as I am, I’m also feeling quite nervous. I made a small plater of appetizers for us to snack on while we do whatever it is we’re gonna be doing. Ultimately there’s no set plan, so I’m thinking we’ll probably end up watching a movie or two. My doorbell rang a few minutes later, and there he was holding a 6 pack of German beer and an extra large pizza. “You told me you enjoy pizza last time, so I figured I’d bring some for us to share.” He smiled.

“Great choice.” I giggled as I moved aside so he could come in. “I did half meat lovers, and half extra cheese with pineapples.” He said as he opened the box to display the pizza, the look in his eyes hinting at how proud he was for remembering the toppings I like. “Very simple order, but it’s something very few can seem to get right,” I laughed as he placed the pizza on the counter top. “Thank you, König.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his torso. He’s huge so a proper hug just doesn’t work, but no hug in this world compares to a König hug. Those big muscular arms wrapped around me, engulfing me into his strong chest. He always smell amazing, like fragrant musky oud and aftershave. “Natürlich, Schatz.“ he whispers as his hand roams over the back of my head, fingers gently playing in my hair. I could stay in his arms forever, I’ve genuinely never felt safer than I do right here. We haven’t really had a moment quite as intimate as this one. We’ve hugged many times before, but not like this. We pulled away and smiled at each other. I cleared my throat before heading over to my kitchen to grab plates and napkins. "So how has your day been so far?" He asked a he took a took a seat at the breakfast bar. "Honestly, it's been pretty boring thus far, I'm counting on you to entertain me" I teased.

"And how do you expect me to do that?" He smirked.

"That's your job to figure out, not mine." I winked.

"Alright, what's you opinion on horror movies?"

"Love 'em!"

"Paranormal or slasher?"

"Hmm, haven't watched a slasher in a while..." I said as I took a seat on the stool beside him, grabbing a slice of my half of the pizza.

"Okay, I'm gonna count down, we're both gonna say a slasher on three and then go from there."

"Alright."

"Eins, Zwei, Drei..."

"Saw marathon." We both said before proceeding to burst into laugher. "Well that was easy," He laughed. "Never would've pegged you for a Saw type of woman though."

"Hey...ya girl's got good taste alright?" I laughed as I took a bite of my slice. We moved everything to the couch and setup Netflix. Luckily for us, Netflix happens to have all of the saw movies available for streaming. I took a seat on the couch after figuring everything out with the TV. "Why are you so far away?" He asked. I sat frozen for a moment, not sure what to do, the blood rushing to my cheeks as I face him. One of his arms rested gently behind the couch, signalling for me to come closer. I smiled bashfully before sliding closer to him, his large robust arm swinging around me and nuzzling me into his side. I gently placed my hand on his chest, before looking up at him. He looked down at me, the wrinkles around his eyes doing that thing I love so much to give away that he's smiling. He gently rubbed my arm, lifting his mask up to his nose, as he placed his finger underneath my chin. He leaned in close, gently rubbing his nose against mine. "May I kiss you, Schatz?" He whispered.

"Ja." I breathed.

"Sehr gut..." He smiled, taking note of my Deutsch response, as he closed the gap between our lips, enrapturing me in a kiss so deep my body turned to jello. His tongue entered my mouth, taking the kiss to new heights. It was dripping with passion, riddled with fervour and yearning. It was hot. Sensual and inviting, I was practically speechless when he pulled away, a string of spit connecting our swollen lips from the brief make out session a few seconds prior. He pulled me back into his chest, gently placing a kiss on the top of my head. Seems like he’s doing something with that ball after all.

By the time we’d finished watching the movies, it was nearly 2am. We were both slowly beginning to doze off before König took notice of the time. “Schiße,” he groaned as he rubbed his eyes. “When did it get so late?”

“No idea.” I yawned as I gently rose from his chest. Ugh he’s so comfy, I really didn’t want to get up, but I didn’t want to push things too far along by suggesting that he spend the night, no matter how badly I wanted to, and fuck did I want to. That one kiss alone was more than enough to have me practically dripping through my panties and down my thighs. He’s such a phenomenal kisser. For a good hour throughout the first movie, I pretty much had to fight myself to keep my mind off of imagining those lips of his covering my entire body in wet gentle kisses. Feeling them enclosed around my nipples, sucking and nipping at them with his teeth while his large calloused hands roam about my body. Picturing him between my legs, his sweet, rough tongue lapping over my swollen nub and dipping between my folds, blue eyes piercing my gaze as he watches me writhe in pleasure beneath him. I would let him have me all over the house, on every piece of furniture, every corner and crevice, I want to be able to look anywhere in here and remember how hard he fucked me…but I don’t want to come off too eager. We got up from the couch and headed towards the front foyer. “I had a great time tonight.” I blushed. “I’d love to maybe do it again sometime.”

“I agree,” he said. “But maybe, only if you’d like to, I could take you out for dinner somewhere nice?”

“Yes,” I said a little two quickly. “I would love to.”

“What about after our next lesson this week?”

“That works for me.”

“Perfect.” He said as he finished putting on his shoes. “I’ll see you then, Schatz. Guten Nacht” he said, gently pulling me in for a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “Let me know when you make it in.” I said.

“Roger.” He smiled, playfully saluting me as he headed out the front door.

Sundays are what I like to call Self Care Days. I’ll normally do a full deep clean of the entire house, engage in some intensive skincare, play my favourite music, drink my favourite wine and eat my favourite foods. It wasn’t until I was finished washing off my clay face mask that I realized I was missing the wine and food. I quickly slipped into a pair of black leggings and a white hoodie, then grabbed my car keys and headed out to the grocery store a few minutes away to grab a bottle of Chardonnay and a few ingredients I’m missing to make lasagna. The supermarket is relatively empty today, which is quite surprising considering it’s a Sunday, but I have zero complaints. I definitely prefer it this way, there’s less anxiety surrounding finding the things you need as you can simply take your time. After grabbing my favourite jar of tomato sauce, ricotta cheese and big bottle of Chardonnay, I began walking off towards to the cash register. As I mindlessly drifted through the aisle towards the cashier, I caught a glimpse of someone familiar. My eyes trailed over the produce section of the grocery store and I saw him — König…but he wasn’t alone. Beside him, a beautiful statuesque blonde, gently rubbing his arm as a little boy around maybe around 3 or 4 years old sat nestled between his arm and chest. My heart practically sank and fell right out of my body and I froze dead in my tracks. No, nothing is set in stone between he and I, but what the hell is going on? Why spend any time at all with me outside of our lessons? Why kiss me the way he did or ask me out to dinner? It’s not like we sit and talk about German for hours over multiple glasses of wine, watch movies on opposite ends of my couch in complete silence, or conjugate verbs while he cooks me Käsespätzle. I’m no fool, I see the way he looks at me…but if he’s married, I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Once I’d gotten over the initial shock of what I’d seen, I was enraged. I decided the next course of action was going to be absolute pettiness. I began heading over in his direction, a gigantic phoney grin plastered across my face as I approach him and his family. “Oh wow, König!” I exclaimed. “Had no idea you and your family also shopped here too.” I said through nearly gritted teeth. “Yes, I’m surprised I haven’t run into you here before.” He smiled, seemingly oblivious to being caught. “I’m one of König’s students, nice to meet you.” I smiled as I turned to the blonde.

“Karina, likewise.” She smiled.

“She’s my Friday evening student, she’s progressing quite well!” He laughed.

“Ahhh…I’ve heard quite a bit about you actually.” She smirked.

“I’m sure you have…well I just wanted to come over and say hello. Take care” I said before I walked over to self checkout. As angry as I am, more than anything else, I feel foolish. Of course he has an entire family, and of course she’s beautiful. Good thing I grabbed the big bottle of wine today. The first thing I did when I got home, aside from pour myself a glass of wine, was cancel the rest of my lessons with König before blocking his number all together. I feel so disgusting and betrayed. Why wouldn’t he tell me about her? Was he hoping I’d be interested in being some sort of mistress? Considering this is something that was initiated by me on the basis of “I’m gonna get what I want this year”, this is a little embarrassing.

The thunderstorm brewing outside was the perfect addition to this mess of an evening. About 3 glasses of Chardonnay and 3 slices of pizza later, I still can’t get over seeing him with them. I just feel so stupid. I genuinely thought this could have been the beginning of something…special. As mad as I am, I cannot get over how amazing he looked with that baby in his arms. Considering how patient he is with me during our lessons, I just know he’s probably the most amazing father, but I have to just try to move on I guess. I got up to pour myself another glass of wine when my doorbell rang. Very strange seeing as it’s 10pm and I’m not expecting a visit from anyone other than a brutal hangover, but I’m not expecting that till tomorrow morning. I opened my phone to check my Ring camera before going towards the door. It’s him. What the hell is he doing here? Was today not enough? I walked over to the door, taking a very deep breath before proceeding to open. He’s soaking wet from head to toe. His white, crew next t-shirt sticking to his body, revealing a clearly defined chest and sculpted abs. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“You cancelled your lessons…and then I tried calling you and never got through. I thought maybe something happened to you.” He said.

“Really? König, please, spare me the pity party.”

“What? What are you talking about? What pity party?”

“Wasn’t it enough for me to have to see you with her? And then you act as if it’s not weird as hell for me to be interacting with your wife.” I spat. He stared at me for a moment before doing something I never thought he would do. He pulled his mask up and over his head. I stared at him, dumbfounded. I drank him in, assessing all of his features — he’s beautiful. He has a buzz cut, which is different than what I’d always pictured, and a scar the slits through his eyebrow that looks…pretty damn good if I’m being honest. His expression grew soft, mildly amused as he watched me stare at his maskless face. “Schatz,” he said. “That is my sister, Karina, and her 4 year old son Markus.” He laughed.

“Fuck…” I cursed under my breath.

“Can I come in please?” He asked. I nodded as I moved aside to let him through the front door. I really don’t know what’s worse, me assuming that the similarly large blonde hair blue eyed Austrian woman standing beside him was his wife, or the outburst I just had. I would crawl under a rock and live there for the rest of my life if I could, because I genuinely cannot handle the embarrassment. I walked over to the linen closet to grab him a towel to dry off. “Thank you,” he said as he put the towel to his face. “Now, what’s all of this about me having a wife?” He asked, smirking knowingly as he clearly already knows the answer. I’m not at all ready to have this conversation, but here goes. “I guess when I saw all three of you, I just assumed that was your wife and child.” I sighed. Looking back, especially now that I’ve seen his face, I definitely see the resemblance between him and Karina. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together after lessons…that kiss last night…I thought there was something between us.” I blushed.

He stepped closer to me. “Of course there is, I asked you out for a reason.” He laughed in mild disbelief. “But I do have a hard time understanding why you would be interested in me…You are so beautiful, too beautiful, but I’m so much older than you and all the things I’ve done —“

“König, I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is how I feel when I’m with you.”

He smiled as he raised his hand up to my face, cupping my cheek in his palm. My heart began to race at the sensation of his touch. “Why do you think she said she’s heard a lot about you?” He laughed. “I help her out with my nephew while her husband is deployed. Admittedly, you are all I can ever seem to think or talk about these days. I am happiest when I’m with you.” I never thought I’d hear him say these things, but God does it feel so good to hear. He leaned down and I leaned upward to close the gap between our lips. I never understood what people meant before when they said they felt a spark when they kissed someone, that is until he first kissed me. I never want it to end, but I also want more and I can tell he does too. He picks me up, effortlessly walking us both over to the kitchen before placing me on the countertop, his kiss growing hungrier and hungrier by the second. My hands sauntered about his torso through his damp shirt. He pulls away briefly to take it off before returning to my lips. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in closer between my thighs. A small moan escapes my lips as I feel his hardened length push up against my pussy through his grey sweatpants. Fuck, looks like he’s big all around. My pussy weeps at the thought of him splitting me in half with his big stiff rod. His hands slip beneath my oversized shirt, softly massaging and caressing my tits as we continue to kiss, his hips slowly grinding against my sopping wet heat through my panties. Christ. I could cum right here. The motion of his hips alone is enough to send me spiralling out into a fit of intense pleasure. I can’t wait to feel him fill me up, and see the look on his face as he slips into the slick mess he’s created. He begins to roll and pinch my nipples between his fingers as his lips move towards my jawline, slow soft kisses trailing down my neck as I whimper and moan, my sensitive nipples growing harder beneath his touch. I pull my shirt up over my head, allowing his lips access to my exposed chest. His lips continue to trail downward towards my breasts, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, while his hand continues to massage the other. “Oh, König…” I moan quietly as my head falls back, goosebumps slowly decorating my entire body as he takes his time catering to my nipples. “Your body is incredible,” he breathed as he came back up to meet my lips. “I love the way it reacts to me…” he said lowly, his hand trailing along my side until it reaches the hem of my panties. “Oh…I wanna taste you.” he whispered in my ear. I placed both feet on the countertop and leaned back onto my elbows, slowly sliding my panties off and down my legs, flicking them off to the side in one swift little kick. He fell to his knees, spreading my legs apart to admire my sticky wet folds. “Schiße, Schatz…” he moaned as he looked up at me, placing gentle kisses along my inner thighs. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He smirked as he planted slow purposeful kisses against my heat. He nuzzled his face between my folds, his tongue lapping gently at the arousal pouring from my tight cunt. “Ohhh…” I moaned out, my hand resting on his head as he picked up the pace, my clit throbbing uncontrollably as his tongue ferociously flicks against it. “Fuck, König…God, you’re gonna make me cum.” I whimpered, legs beginning to shake as his hands held on tight to my thighs, fingers digging into my plush flesh as I squirmed beneath his lips and tongue. He began sucking my clit while his tongue continued to flick against my swollen nub, my orgasm building as I watched him indulge in me, enjoying and savouring every ounce of my sweet juices. He came up for air, licking his lips as he took in every inch of my naked body. “I could eat your pussy all day, Schatz. Fuck, you taste even better than you look.” He praised.

“Now I want you to cum for me.” He said, slowly sliding two of his fingers inside me, his thumb rubbing swift circles against my clit. My back arches up off the counter as the room fills with the loud, obscene noises of me growing closer to succumbing to my orgasm.

He leans over me, fingers curling upward and into that delightful spongy spot inside me. He kisses me slowly as I cum all over his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. “Sehr Gut.” He smirks as he pulls away, my eyes immediately drawn to the large bulge in his sweatpants. He pulls them, along with his boxers, down, revealing his long, hard, uncut cock. Fuck…he might actually split me in two. He’s gotta be at least 9-10 inches with a fair amount of girth, and a thick vein that embellishes the side of his length. I sat up as he placed his hands on my hips. “Are you sure about this, Schatz? I don’t wanna hurt you…you’re so tight.” He said.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I said, gently taking his hardness in my hand, slowly stroking him as I held his gaze. “I want you, König.” I breathed as I positioned his thick leaky tip at my entrance. “I’ll be gentle.” He breathed against my lips before kissing me , slowly pushing forward. I leaned back onto my hands to allow him more room to go deeper, his hands resting on the counter on either side of me. “König,” I gasped as he went deeper, slowly thrusting in more of himself little by little. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, expression awash with concern as he takes a brief pause. “No. I want more,” I moaned. “I want it all.”

He smiled, “Gutes Mädchen.” He said, holding my gaze as he continued to push into me, my eyes widening at the delicious feel of his fullness. “Fuck.” I moaned.

“Mmm, look at you…” he smirked. “Schiße, you take me so fucking well.” He breathed, watching his fat cock slip in and out of me, letting out a guttural moan as he bottoms out. “Mein Got, you’re so fucking tight.” He said as his thrusts began to pick up pace. “So…big…” I moaned as he thrusted harder, eyes glued to mine, basking in my aroused expression as he continued to fuck me. “Harder.” I panted.

“You sure you can handle it, Schatz?” He asked.

“Yes. Please” I begged. He stood up, gently pulling me towards the edge of the countertop, placing my legs in the air, and wrapping one of his arms around both of my thighs before slamming into me repeatedly. “Oh my God.” I cried out, his thick tip kissing the sweet gummy edge of my cervix over and over. “This is what you wanted, ja?” He taunted.

“Y-yes.” I moaned, barely able to speak.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Schatz? Thought you could handle this?” He smirked, watching as my pussy gushes around this cock, dripping down it’s base. His free hand moved towards my clit, his thumb continuing with those hypnotizing circles as he mercilessly pounds my cunt, his face and chest glistening with sweat. I can feel myself about to come undone. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered. I’ve never been fucked this hard before, or taken anything nearly as big as him. I am completely overwhelmed with pleasure in the best way, and the look and his face let’s me know the feeling is mutual. I damn near explode all over his cock, coating majority of his length in my creaminess. He pulled out, I could tell his orgasm was about to follow mine. I climbed off of the counter top and got on my knees, licking my slick off of his shaft before wrapping my lips around the head of his cock. He grabbed hold of my hair and I began sliding my lips up and down his shaft. “Fuck…” he whimpered. “I’m gonna cum.” He moaned. I picked up the pace, sucking him vigorously. I continued until he couldn’t hold back anymore, shooting ropes of his hot, sticky cum down my throat. I held his gaze as I swallowed. “Fuck….” He exhaled, trying to catch his breath as I rose to my feet. He pulled me into him, kissing me hard as we both came down from our high. “That was incredible.” He smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It was.” I blushed. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

He laughed. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Schatz, especially not after that.”

“Would you like to spend the night?” I asked sheepishly.

“I would love to.” He smiled as he gave me a kiss on the cheek, before scooping me up into his arms bridal style. “Let’s go take a shower, Ja?”

“Lead the way!” I laughed as he headed towards the stairs.

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igotanidea · 11 months

Text

Cheater - part 2

part 1

Warnings: SMUT -MINORS DNI PLEASE! heavy angst, heartbreak, poor life choices, trauma, drama

A/N: special thanks to @90s-belladonna - I kinda heard your comment :D, and sorry for all the spelling mistakes, it's waayyyy past midnight here but I just had to finish it.

Ok, here we go people. Get ready for angst in 3....2......1.....

***

„You sure as hell moved on pretty fast.”

“Come on, Dick, it’s been three months. Do you seriously expect me to cry over a guy who, may I remind you, cheated on me. And who, may I remind you as well, you wanted to beat to shit cause of that?”

“Hey, I’m just saying” Dick raised his hands in surrendering gesture “it’s just nice to see you smiling again.”

“Besides.” Y/N gave him a warning expression “Kyle and I are just friends. We are having fun together, but he is a freaking green lantern. Here one second and on the other side of the galaxy the other. You cannot quite rely on a guy like that to get into a serious relationship with.”

“Mhm, sure. Someone should probably tell him you think so.”

“Why?”

“Cause I can see the way he looks at you.”

“Which is how exactly?” the girl turned around, facing Dick, her eyes showing nothing more but a confusion.

“Like you are a piece of meat, Y/N. He surely wants something more than friendship.”

“Who? Kyle? He’s a resident flirt. He’s not treating me seriously, and neither do I him.”

“Right, whatever you say.”

“You are being paranoid Dick. I know you want to protect me and I appreciate that, truly” she put a hand on his shoulder making him look straight into her face “but I’m fine, I promise. And if anything wrong were to happen I know where to turn. You may have slightly different judgment, but all I’m asking is a little bit of trust. Can I have that, Dickie?”

“Fine! Fine! Have it your way. But. If he does anything. I mean, anything you don’t like, you tell me, all right?”

“All right, Mr. Vigilante. Even though with all the batman training I could probably kick his ass myself. But I promise.”

“Good. Have a nice date then.” he laughed leaving the room.

“It’s not a date!” he yelled after him

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, sunshine!”

***

After learning what Jason did (who was irrelevant at the moment) Y/N swore to herself she will not succumb into depression and bad thinking. Nope. It was not her fault, she was the victim and there was seriously no reason to dwell on the past. It hurt, sure it did, she loved him after all and such feeling cannot just be turned off, but slowly with Babs, Cass and Steph help she got back on her feet. This entire situation was particularly hard for Dick, since if nothing else Jace was his brother, but he was Y/N’s biggest support as well, helping her get her mind of things by giving her some serious vigilante training and let her join the team on the field. He would never do that under any other circumstances and Y/N appreciated that in every way possible.

So yes, after a month or so, she started to heal and let go, opening herself to life and putting her extra energy into patrols and night work. And that was how she met Kyle. It was actually quite easy. One day, on the titans meeting, while Y/N was discussing the details of newest mission with Donna he just dropped by, apparently because of some mission, and the girl instantly caught his attention. And given the fact that Kyle had a relationship with Wonder Girl it made it easier to push through to Y/N.

“So, who’s your little friend, Donna?” he asked, tilting his head and eyeing Y/N carefully.

“I’m sorry, who are you calling little, green?” Y/N scoffed “just because you ego is sky rocket high, does not mean I will let you diminish me.”

“All right, there’s no need to get defensive. You just seem like the newest member of the team and that makes you …. Well, little. Unexperienced. A greenie if I may say so. ”

“Kyle….” Donna warned the boy, but he let those words go.

“No offence here, little one, but maybe you should just go home and stay safe. Earth has many protectors who are way more qualified to do the job.”

“Ok, that’s it.” Y/N came right at him, before Donna or any other member of the Titans could stop her. He knew exactly what green lanterns were capable of so with just one perfect swing, turn and kick she managed to grab his ring, with which he was recklessly playing. Once her fingers clutched around the source of the boy’s power, taking him completely by surprise, she threw some of her shurikens in his direction, the force of the flying object, pinning Kyle to the wall.

“Hmmmm” he muttered easily breaking free and humming in admiration “I may have underestimated you.” he reached his hands toward her “I don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m Kyle Rayner, and who may you be, sunshine?”

***

Their relationship was rocky. There were teasing and playing on each other’s nerves, but also quiet moments together when no words were needed to fill the silence. There were fights and banters, but also supporting each other and tending to each other wounds. Y/N missed the fact that this was pretty similar to the other relationship she was before. Guess the girl had a type. But still, Kyle was just a friend to her. Maybe even a frenemy. Nothing more. Nothing. And that was why it was so hard for her to believe the truth behind Dick’s words. Did Kyle see more to their talking and meeting than it truly was? Did he want … more?

It was a bit too late to wonder about that, but her mind was just fixed on this thought.

Was that why he asked her out for tonight. Truly, Y/N believed it was just a casual outing, especially when he mentioned the possibility of his female friend joining him. Y/N was convinced, she was supposed to be the wingwoman and said friend was the one Kyle had his eyes on, but now, as she recollected how the guy asked her out, she realized how wrong she was all this time.

“Hey, Y/n” Kyle grabbed her waist from behind and not giving a damn about her kicking and screaming to put her down, spun her in the air “how about we go out next Saturday? Hm? Come on, say yes, you know it’s impossible to deny this handsome face.”

“First of all, get your hands off me, Rayner! And secondly, why would I say yes to you. You are a terrible person.”

“hmmm. You’ll get dinner for free, and perhaps a flower? How is that for an incentive?”

“That sounds better. I may be friends with a billionaire son, but still had to cut on expenses. How unfair is that?” she scoffed

“It’s settled than.” Kyle smirked “I’ll pick you up at 6 p.m., little one.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Not a chance” he bend over and pecked her cheek so quickly it was like it never happened “Oh, and one more thing. I have this one friend, who recently started going out with some new dude. She says there’s a bit awkwardness between them, though she paved over the reason. Anyway, I thought maybe we can show those two how nice and friendly it can be between a man and a woman?”

“Oh, so now I’m a woman?”

“Hush, little one. What I meant was that Artemis and her guy may be joining us, hope you don’t mind? We can still have….. “ he hesitated, his eyes fixed on his face and he had to fight an urge to lick his lips “fun.”

“I don’t really care who joins us.” Y/N waved her hands around dismissively “can I just go now?’

“Sure. I’ll see you soon, pretty.” He threw her directions and took off flying.

“Showoff.” She mumbled under her nose.

BUT WHAT THE HELL DID HE CALL HER?! PRETTY?!

***

Yes, she obviously misjudged Kyle’s intentions over her and that came out painfully clear when he knocked on her door, all dressed up, looking.. well, as much as she hated to admit it, handsome. Thank god, she put on a clear pair of jeans and her best shirt. Otherwise she would fell terribly underdressed.

“Hello, little one.” He smiled his signature flirty smile and handed her a single flower.

“One flower?” she raised an eyebrow taking it from his hand “what am I supposed to do with it? Smell and swoon over your charm?”

“told you it was gonna be a single one. Were you expecting more?”

“No.” she shook her head “let’s just go, all right. I’m actually pretty hungry and the sooner I meet that friend of yours, the sooner I will be free of talking to you.”

“Always a pleasure to be the one to be used by you.” Kyle grinned and motioned her to the car.

“SHUT UP!”

“You look so cute when you are flustered.” He cooed “now come on, get it the car. Are you waiting for me to open the door for you? Cause that may take some time.”

“I’m just reconsidering if my hunger is really worse than the pain of being in your company…..” she pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering what she just got herself into “Fine. Fine, I’ll get in. But just to be clear, I’m ordering the most expensive dish on the menu.”

“Which would probably be a burger and fries, but whatever you say, little one.”

“I HATE YOU, RAYNER!”

“Yeah, I love you too, Y/N.” he teased playfully, but somehow his tone was a bit different than usually.

Oh, she was terribly wrong with judging his intentions, and hell, apparently Dick was right.

***

Once they arrived at the destination, Kyle quickly noticed his friend already sitting in one of the booths. Her red hair were obviously distinctive so there was not a chance to miss the girl.

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Artemis, one of the biggest mischief there is. Artie….”

“Don’t call me Artie!”

“…. This is Y/N, the girl who though she could beat me the first time we met. Hopefully now she realizes how wrong she was.”

“Hi!” Y/N decided to ignore Kyle’s words and focus on the other girl, instead “I’m Y/N. Good to see I’m not the one who gets called by him.”

“That’s annoying, isn’t it? Maybe we should join forces in kicking his ass?” Artemis smiled

“Bet that would be a shame for him. Can you imagine? Beaten by two girls?” both of them laughed. This Artemis girl seemed nice.

“Ok, ladies, enough of your silly dreams. Where did you lost your boyfriend, Arty? Cause my girl mentioned something about trying to leave me broke and I can’t wait to see her try. How long will we have to wait for him?”

“He just went to the bathroom. Something about bracing himself. You can’t possibly realize how much effort I had to put in dragging him out tonight.”

“Girl, can we switch guys?” Y/N laughed “I would kill for a man who’d rather stay at home than make me go out.”

“Hmm, nice try, but I’m not giving up Jason so easily.”

“Jason?” Y/N froze for a second. No. No, this could not be…..

“Oh, there he is. Hey, Jace!” Artemis waved her hand in the direction of a black-haired guy. With a white strand of hair in the middle of the forehead. “We’re here.”

“Rayner.” Jason muttered, slipping into the booth.

“You never mentioned you were going out with Jay Todd!” Kyle laughed loudly “that is a hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Wait, you know each other?” Artemis’ gaze switched between two boys

“Long story full of hate and friendship.” Kyle laughed again. “Anyway, Jason, I’d like you to meet and probably get jealous of the pretty girl I came with tonight. No offence to your girlfriend present.”

“None taken.” Artemis shrugged and snuggled closer to Jason.

Jason, whose gaze travelled toward Y/N.

And then he realized and his eyes turned wide.

And what was even worse, she realized too. The girl who was so nice and sympathetic was also the one, Jason cheated on Y/N with.

“Hey, are you two all right there? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Jason stuttered, not really convincing anyone.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was sure as hell going to be a fucking interesting night.

***

The tension could literally be cut with a knife.

At least for Jason and Y/N since Kyle and Artemis were having so much fun together that if the other two were to disappear and never come back, none of them would even notice. While the lantern and the red head were just talking and talking and talking, the former Robin and the newest Titans member were focused on picking on their food, not even eating, just dragging it all over the plates, eyes down, unable to pretend. All those months of lying to herself and just by seeing him Y/N was falling back into the same trap.

Good thing she caught herself on repeating the same scenario.

“You are being awfully quiet, Y/N” Kyle finally realized whose voice was missing in the conversation “Todd here is a constant growler, but what happened to my little one?” he grabbed her waist pulling her closer and pinched her side, missing the furious glint in Jason’s eyes. Y/N did not and decided to use it.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you, Kyle. And you let me pick my own food, that is sooo kind of you.” she mocked “boys this days, right Artemis?’

“Sure…..” the other girl nodded “we are both lucky I guess, I mean Jace, despite his rather harsh outside is pretty friendly on the inside.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Y/N smiled, her eye travelling to Jason, who at this point was just clenching his jaw. “Kyle, honey! You should have told me you knew each other. I would be much better prepared for this date. Now I feel like I don’t know your friends at all and seem boring.”

“boring? Y/N, love….” Kyle immediately matched Y/N tone, not fully aware why she turned to be like this, but he liked that. “You are everything but boring.”

“Oh, stop it” he laughed in the silliest, girlish smile she could produce and pushed his chest lightly, playfully “you’re making me blush.”

“And that’s the prettiest blush in the galaxy.” Kyle brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, bringing his face closer to hers. “And I would know, I am the green lantern after all.”

That was simply enough for Jason. He could not control himself anymore, standing up abruptly, almost tripping the table and the dishes.

“Jason?” Artemis took his hand, rubbing it gently “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “I need to smoke.” Without any other word of explanation or apology he left the table, heading towards the back exit.

“I’m sorry.” Artemis sighed deeply “I told he’s been acting strange for a while now…..”

“Really?” Y/N sipped on her cocktail innocently “for how long exactly.”

“A few months actually. I’m not really sure what’s got into him…. Maybe I should go and check on him?”

“Leave it, Artie. I’m telling you, Todd is one hell of a strange man…..

“Can’t argue with that….” Y/N mumbled, but no one heard her.

“…. A closed book, you could never open unless he lets you in.”

“Right…..” the red head played with her knife, twisting it between her fingers skillfully. “Kyle, I … I really should talk to you in private later.”

“Whatever you have to say, you can do it in front of Y/N.”

“Nah.” Y/N shook her head “I’ll give you two a minute. I need to go to the bathroom either way.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Artemis eyed her apologetically.

“It’s all right. Just have your talk, I get it.” Oh, she did get it. Guilt was eating Artemis up and Y/N was definitely not going to be the one to sympathize with her. “Just let me know when you’re done.”

“You got it, pretty. I gotta take you back home safe after all.”

Y/N just send him a light smile and headed towards the bathroom, but before she could reach it, she felt a strong grip on her wrist and was dragged outside.

“What the fuck!?” she hissed, twisting her assaulter arm in a well-trained motion, but it backfired on her, once she noticed who the attacker was. “What the fuck, Jason!?”

“What are you doing with him!?”

“Why do you care?!”

“What are you doing with that pimp!?”

“Pimp?! Oh, I’m sorry, are you speaking from experience? Cause sure as hell you would recognize someone to do it that business.”

“Be careful with words now, princess.” Jason hissed

“Oh, you think you can scare me” she cooed “that is just so. damn. Cute. In case you didn’t notice things have changed. I’m not the helpless girl anymore. Dick….”

“Oh, I know what my brother did. I know he trained you and made you join Titans. Is that how you met Rayner? Are you going out with him now?’

“This is none of your damn business!” she yelled

“Isn’t it?” he hissed taking a step forward, pressing her into the building wall, trapping her between it and his body, her hands pinned on her sides.

“I can still kick your ass, you know.” she struggled against his grip. Damn it, he was strong, that one thing surely did not change.”

“Than do it, I dare you.” he mumbled into her ear and it made her shiver.

Focus Y/N - she thought to herself -remember what he did”

“how is it going with Artemis?” she kept her tone cool, not showing how his proximity was affecting her “she’s worried you don’t love her anymore, you know.” she pouted “such a shame. Wasting perfectly good relationship…. AUCH!” she yelled as Jason pressed her further into the wall, the cold stone hurting her back.

“Do you ever shut up?!” he hissed

“At least I’m running my mouth in all the right places!” she yelled trying to push him off “not where they should never wander!”

“How about I show you were they should wander.” His eyes glistened with lust and she shivered under the weight of it. Oh, hell no!

“Don’t even think about it!” she hissed, but he completely ignored her words, getting closer and closer to her face, his grip becoming iron clad, probably leaving bruises “GET THE FUCK OFF ME! KY….”

Before she could finish yelling the other guy’s name Jason’s lips were already on hers, moving rapidly, hungrily with the intensity that made her melt instantly. And hating herself for that. For a moment she was struggling to break free, but once his hands moved over to her waist, pressing her closer to him, wondering over her entire body, touching all the places only he knew about she completely gave up. Fuck, he just knew her body too well to even try to object. At the moment, her brain just stopped functioning, completely giving in to the desire he was igniting in her.

God, his mouth. His soft mouth, moving against her own, biting on the lower lip, causing her to moan involuntarily and let his tongue inside, exploring and claiming her.

“Jason…” she whined, fisting hands into his jacket, pulling him closer.

“Yes, princess. Keep saying my name. Tell me you missed me the way I missed you….” he tangled one hand in her hair, tilting her head and kissing her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and leaving a hickey. "Tell me….” He panted against her skin.

“I… I…..” she whimpered, still fighting not to give in completely, but slowly losing this fight “Fuck….” Poor girl could not hold back a whimper as Jason grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her into the wall once again, but this time making sure she did not feel any pain.

“Why did you came with that fucker, huh?” he mumbled playing with the hem of her shirt “out of every people on the planet it had to be him?” he grinded against her and damn, it reminded her of all the nights they spend together tangled in the sheets, when he was making her feel so good.

“Jace….” She moaned more, grabbing his neck and putting his mouth back down, kissing him back with desperation and need.

“You’re mine.” He hissed, letting go off her thigs, her whole weight leaning onto the wall as he started unzipping her pants “Fuck, you could have wear a skirt for once. But you know what, I’m actually glad you didn’t. Means you weren’t planning on doing anything with him.” He slid her pants and panties down a bit, putting her feet back onto the ground just to get them all the way to her ankles, getting on her knees in front of her, grabbing her ass now. “God I missed this. I missed you.” he breathed, kissing her leg up, slowly, tentatively, getting towards her inside thigh and stopping there for a second.

“Please…. “ she buckled her hips, head falling back and banging against the concrete. She didn’t care if anyone saw them here in quite compromising position. She needed him. She wanted him. She craved the way he always knew how to please her, how to satisfy her hunger “Please Jason….”

“What do you need princess?” he licked on her most sensitive part with the precision no one else could even begin to compete with and she let out that little kitten noise that always made him aware of how good he was doing. Jason Todd had a fucking praise kink and his pants were already tight. “tell me. You already got me on my knees, I’m listening.”

“I…I…. Ah! Jason!”

“Yes, princess?” he smirked, sucking on her clit “you’re so wet for me, and god, you taste just delicious….”

“I need you in me, now!”

“I got you covered.” He raised onto his feet, unzipping his own pants, ready for action, once again lifting her up, spreading her wide and pushing in. Fuck, he was fucking her in a public place and what spurred him on even more was that she let him. He made a mistake of ever letting her go. Of cheating on her. He would do everything to get her back, to make her forgive him, to come back into her life. Anything. Artemis might have been hot and good in bed, but Y/n and him shared a connection, a deep bond, they had history. Surely that must have meant something to her, right? Right?

They were going to talk later and he would explain everything, begging for her but as for now all the was focused on was making her cum, reminding her how good he could make her feel. He. No one else. Not Rayner or any other fucker. He. Jason Todd. The one bound to her, left at her mercy.

God, she felt so good, so tight, so warm around him when he was snapping his hips against her, getting lost in all the sweet sounds she was making for him.

“Baby….” He whispered kissing her with undeniable passion ‘you’re mine….. you’re only mine. Say it. Tell me you still love me. ” he begged slowly losing his mind over the sensations

“I…. Ah! Don’t stop. Jace. Fuck, don’t stop” she pressed herself onto him, picking up the pace, fire inside her begging to be released. “Please, please, oh, please, Jace.” He nails dig into his back and he welcomed that familiar pain.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

“So… close… “ she panted, her breath ragged.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. Make you cum so fast, so hard. No one else. Not a one-night stand and definitely not Rayner.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” she screamed as he finally took her over the edge, her orgasm overwhelming her whole, her body shaking in his arms as he held her tight, caressing her back and sides, whispering praises and sweet nothings into her ear, following soon after, coming inside her. What he didn’t know was that she screamed not only because of the intensity of the orgasm, but also because she realized Kyle was still inside the diner. With Artemis. Artemis with whom Jason cheated Y/N on.

Fuck, he made a terrible mistake.

“Princess” Jason mumbled, still bemused by claiming her like this, pretty sure now that he made her come they would talk and clear things out “I love you….”

“Fuck you, Todd!” much to his surprise she pushed him away, tear gathering in her eyes.

“I don’t …. What….?”

“You fucking idiot! You stupid scumbag!” she cried out, bending for her pants and panties and putting them back on. God, she fell for him again. stupid, stupid, stupid

“Baby….” He reached for her cheek, but she slapped his hand hard

“Get away from me! I’m warning you.”

“But I …. I….. I want you back….” He stuttered “I’m sorry for what I did, I am. Losing you made me realize…”

“Oh just shut the fuck up. You used me. Again .That’s all it was. And fuck, I let you. And hey, you just cheated on your girl, who you previously cheated with. Funny, isn’t it?” she smiled sourly, wiping away the tears. “Guess the history repeat itself. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Anyway, I am going home….”

“At least let me take you.” his eyes were futilely searching hers “We can talk when you calm down, baby.

“Talk!?” she snapped “I don’t ever, ever, ever, want to see you again! And I can go by myself, definitely not with you. Good luck explaining to Kyle and …. Her… where I went.” She turned on her feet, angrily walking away.

He fucked up. Again .

***

“Dick…..” she showed up on her best friend’s doorstep, shaking, crying, freezing to death.

“Y/N? What happened?” Dick instantly pull her into his chest and inside, rubbing her back just to warm her up a bit.

“I…. I did something terrible. I… I let….”

“Shh…” Dick cooed “breathe. Just breathe, all right? I’ll get you something to drink, you will take a shower and some rest and then tell me, ok?”

“O.. ok…” she stuttered

“Whatever happened, whatever Jason did to you, I’m here. I’ll help you.”

“How….how do you know…..?”

“I know you are not shaking like that because of Kyle. He’s a prick but he wouldn’t hurt you. My brother on the other side…” he shook his head “I guess I will have to kill him.”

“No, please, just stay with me.” She clung onto him desperately searching for safety and reassurance "I don;t want to be alone...." her sob was just so terrible it made Dick tighten the hug.

“I’m not going anywhere. At least for now…..”

To be continued?

504 notes · View notes

cr-komi · 4 months

Text

"All's Fair in Love and War"

Summary: You harbored a deep hatred for Jeon Jungkook, your new roommate at Skyline View Apartments. Despite his outward kindness, the constant noise of his nightly activities with different partners fueled your resentment. Envious and frustrated, you couldn't help but wonder if he truly made those women feel as good as they sounded.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6,061

Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), multiple orgasms

Authors Note: This is not proofread. I hope you all enjoy this story, it was fun to write but this is also my first time writing something like this so please be kind!

You hated Jeon Jungkook with every bone in your body.

When given this information, one might ask why you despise a man who has been nothing but nice to you since you became his new roommate at the newly built, Skyline View Apartments, although those who wondered about your dislike for him never had to hear him fucking the daylights of a new girl every single night.

You resented Jeon Jungkook so deeply that it had become an obsession. Day in and day out, the melodic moans and rhythmic thumping from his bedroom invaded your peace, a constant reminder of his promiscuity and your own solitude. Each passionate encounter was like a dagger piercing through the thin walls, leaving you seething with envy and frustration.

I mean, honestly, could he really make all those women feel that good?

---

The apartment was a patchwork of sunlight and shadows, dust motes dancing like tiny fairies in the afternoon glow streaming through the half-closed blinds. You sat on the edge of the secondhand couch that had seen better days, fidgeting with your phone as you checked the time once more.

"Any minute now," You whispered to yourself, the words lost in the quiet expanse of the room.

Your gaze flitted over the ad you'd posted online – 'Roommate Wanted: must be clean, quiet, and okay with late-night baking sessions.' The rent, unyielding in its monthly appearance, had become a specter haunting your bank account. Sharing your space wasn't ideal, but neither was the idea of moving back home to two unsupportive, narcissistic parents.

A knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. You took a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt as if the gesture could iron out your nerves.

You opened the door to reveal a young man with a bright smile and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Jungkook?" You asked tentatively.

"That's me, you must be Y/N," he replied, his voice carrying the warmth of a summer breeze. "I hope I'm not too early or anything."

"Right on time, actually." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. "Welcome to what might be your new home, I guess."

"Thank you," Jungkook said, stepping past the threshold. He surveyed the room with an appreciative nod. "You've got a great place here. The ad didn't do it justice."

"Photography isn't really my strong suit," You admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Jungkook set his duffel down, careful not to disturb the arrangement of magazines on the coffee table. "I'm pretty easy-going. As long as I have somewhere to sleep and cook some simple meals, I'm set."

"Ah, you cook?" You perked up, interest piqued. "That's definitely a point in your favor."

"Nothing too fancy," Jungkook confessed, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "But I can manage well enough not to starve."

You laughed, the sound more relaxed than you felt. "I tend to bake when I'm stressed. So, between your cooking and my baking, we might not be the healthiest household."

"Sounds perfect to me," Jungkook grinned.

"Listen," you started, suddenly serious, "I really need someone to split the rent with. And you seem nice enough. But are you sure you're okay with the rules? My work schedule is kind of erratic, and I need quiet to focus when I'm at home."

"Totally understand," Jungkook assured you.

"I keep odd hours myself sometimes. For the record, I'm clean and respectful of shared spaces. I would want the same if the roles were reversed."

"Guess it's settled then." You extended her hand, feeling the strange mix of relief and trepidation churn within you. "You're welcome to be my roommate, as long as you want to."

"Well I wouldn't be here if I wasn't interested, now, would I?" Jungkook replied, his handshake firm and reassuring.

You nodded, laughing quietly, "I guess you're right. Let me show you around."

---

As the days turned into weeks, your initial reservations about Jeon Jungkook began to dissipate. Contrary to the image you had built up in your mind, he turned out to be an ideal roommate. He was considerate, always cleaning up after himself, and never complained about your late-night baking sessions that sometimes left the kitchen a mess. He was quiet and respectful of your space.

You found yourself growing closer to him, drawn in by his infectious laughter and the genuine interest he showed in your life. It was as if a friendship had blossomed from the ashes of animosity. You began sharing meals together, chatting about everything from work to your dreams for the future. For the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone.

That is, until about two weeks ago when Jungkook started banging every girl that he found within a 5 mile radius.

---

The clock struck midnight, and you lay in your bed, the moonlight casting ghostly shadows across your room.

You had been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but the hope of rest was dashed each time a new wave of noise crashed through the walls from Jungkook’s side of the apartment.

"Ugh, not again..." you muttered under your breath, pulling the pillow over your ears as if it could shield you from the cacophony next door.

A rhythmic thumping against the shared wall set a maddening tempo, accompanied by the high-pitched squeal of bedsprings in protest.

You could hear Jungkook's voice, a melodic baritone, now moaning without any hint of restraint or concern for his roommate.

"Seriously, does he have to be so loud?" You grumbled, annoyance simmering as you kicked off your tangled sheets.

It wasn't just the volume; it was the frequency. This had become an all too familiar soundtrack to your nights, and with every encounter audible through the paper-thin walls, your patience wore thinner.

"God, do they ever get tired?" The thought came unbidden, as you sat up, clenching your fists in frustration.

You paced back and forth, considering banging on the wall or maybe even screaming into your pillow. Each stifled cry and laugh from the other side felt like an invasion of your already cramped personal space.

"Okay, think... headphones. Where are my headphones?" You whispered to yourself, fumbling through your nightstand drawer in desperation.

Stressed and sleep deprived, you froze with a sudden realization: your headphones were in Jungkook's room.

You mentally cursed yourself for leaving them there, how could you be so damn forgetful?

"Are you fucking serious?" You groaned, mentally debating on whether you should interrupt Jungkook's late-night escapade or not.

"Tomorrow," you vowed silently, "I'm buying earplugs. Or soundproofing. Or moving to the moon."

As the seconds dragged on, punctuated by the occasional 'Yes!' and 'Right there!' from next door, your initial irritation gave way to a begrudging resignation. You knew this wouldn't be the last night spent battling for sleep against the symphony of Jungkook's indiscretions.

"It's now or never, Y/N. Just get it over with."

Summoning a newfound resolve, you rose from your bed and marched determinedly towards Jungkook's room. The hallway was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a cracked doorway that spilled out a warm, amber glow.

With every step, your anger fueling your actions, you were prepared to confront him about the disruption he was causing.

Clenching your fists tightly, you hesitated for a brief moment before knocking forcefully on his door.

The sounds from within abruptly ceased, replaced by an eerie silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Your heart raced in anticipation as you waited for a response. After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open slowly, revealing a disheveled Jungkook standing on the other side, bare chested with a sheet hanging loosely around his waist. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, clearly caught off guard.

As you stood at the threshold of his room, you were met with clothes strewn across the floor. The air was heavy with the scent of passion, mixing with a tinge of regret that hung in the air like an unanswered question.

"What the hell do you want, Y/N? Can't you see I'm busy?"

He gestured with his hand towards the inner parts of his room revealing a girl who seemed to be about your age, wide eyed and clearly uncomfortable with the situation that was playing out before her.

Your anger flared, the frustration of sleepless nights fueling your words. "I want some peace and quiet, Jungkook! This is not the first time this has happened, and I'm tired of being subjected to your...activities." You couldn't help but glare at the girl, her presence only amplifying your annoyance. "And who is she? Another one of your conquests?"

Jungkook's expression hardened, a mixture of annoyance and frustration crossing his features,"Y/N, you shouldn't come barging in like this! The stuff that I do in my time is none of your fucking business. And besides, we were just catching up."

"Catching up?" Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Is that what you call it? Because I've heard more than enough catching up these past few weeks."

The girl let out a whimper, her eyes wide with fear, as if she was suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation.

Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair. Turning to the girl tangled in the covers he stared with apologetic eyes, "Look maybe you should just leave for now. We can finish what we started another time, yeah?"

The girl nodded, hastily gathering her clothes and making a beeline for the door, completely avoiding your gaze.

With a scoff, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, taking in his frustrated expression, "There, are you happy now? She's gone."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, his voice low and controlled. "You know, Y/N, you don't have to be so judgmental. Just because my lifestyle doesn't align with yours doesn't give you the right to invade my privacy and shame me for it."

Your anger flared even hotter at his words. "Invade your privacy? You've been invading mine, night after night! This is my home too, Jungkook. I deserve some peace and quiet."

He scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. "And what about the peace and quiet I deserve? What if I told you that you're not the easiest person to live with either?"

The words stung, but you refused to back down. "I'm not the easiest person to live with!? That's bullshit! This is my apartment, or did you forget?"

He shook his head, frustrated by your accusations. "You act as if this place belongs only to you. Don't forget, Y/N, we agreed to this living arrangement equally. I have just as much right to live here as you do."

You threw your hands in the air, frustration finally starting to boil over, "Of course you fucking do! I don't care whether you have sex or not, or with who for that matter! I just wish you could be a little quieter. Is that too much to ask for?"

Jungkook laughed harshly, "If you don't care who I fuck or when I do it, then why are you standing outside my door right now, getting mad at me for that exact reason?"

If murder wasn't illegal, you would strangle Jeon Jungkook with your bare hands right fucking now, no regrets.

But instead of giving in to the violent urge that bubbled within you, you took a step back, trying to regain your composure. It was clear that this argument was going nowhere, and you knew that escalating the situation further would only make matters worse.

"I came here to address the noise issue, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, your voice strained with frustration. "I've been struggling to sleep because of the constant disruptions, and I wanted to talk it out like adults. But clearly, that's not possible."

Jungkook scoffed, "Are you saying I'm not mature enough to handle this situation?"

Oh fuck, someone should restrain you before things get violent.

"What?? When did I say th--" You paused for a moment, thinking before allowing a sly smile to spread across your features, "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Jungkook's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, his eyes narrowing in anger. "You think you're so high and mighty, don't you? Always acting like you're better than everyone else," he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

You smirked, the tension between the two of you crackling in the air. "Well, at least I have some self-control. Unlike you, who can't seem to keep it in your pants long enough for me to get a good night's sleep."

His face flushed red, a mixture of embarrassment and rage contorting his features. "You don't know anything about me."

"Oh please," you scoffed. "Enlighten me then, Jeon Jungkook. I'd love to hear your story that justifies keeping the whole apartment complex awake every damn night."

Jungkook's jaw clenched, and you could see the anger flickering in his gaze. But instead of retaliating with harsh words or escalating the tension further, he surprised you by exhaling slowly, seemingly calming himself down before suddenly leaning in close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face.

"Are you sure you're angry because it's too loud for you to sleep?" He whispered, a devilish smirk etched into his features, "are you sure it's not just because you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" You sputtered, taken aback by his change in demeanor, "of what? Of the fact that you're fucking every girl and their mother?"

Jungkook nodded slowly, "Do you want some of the action, Y/N? Do you want me to fuck you so good you see stars?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at Jungkook, his words hanging in the air between you, the tension between the two of you reaching its peak. A part of you was shocked, but another part was aroused by his audacity.

"What the hell are you suggesting?" You hissed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You really think I'd let you do that to me?"

Jungkook smirked, a predatory gleam flaring up in his eyes. "Don't tell me you're not curious. You've seen me with other girls, you've heard the noises... do you ever wonder what it's like for them? To be in my arms, to be with me?"

Your breath hitched as you processed his words. Was this really happening? Was he really saying these things to you?

"You know, Y/N, you keep complaining about all the girls I've brought home these past few weeks, but you've never once stopped to ask me why."

"Because you have the same sex drive as a horny teenager?" You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

He took a step closer, his body language commanding your attention, "I was home that night." He whispered, eyes sparkling at your retort, a twinkle of mischief in his gaze.

"W-what do you mean? Which night?"

Jungkook's voice lowered, dangerous and seductive, "The night you came home with Taehyung."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," You stammered, feeling your body heat up as his gaze lingered on you.

Jungkook's smirk widened, "Oh, I think you do, Y/N. You came home that night, tipsy and flushed, your hair still wet from the rain that had been pounding on the windows."

You laughed nervously, trying to act innocent despite the fact that you knew exactly what he was talking about, "What...what do you mean?"

"I heard every noise you made that night, Y/N. Every cry, every scream, every moan, every whimper."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl, "And I watched you. I watched you give yourself to that boy, your eyes closed tight, your body arching back and forth in rhythmic motions. I saw every flush of color, every quiver of your lips, your nails digging into his back as you came undone."

You froze. If you had known Jungkook was home that day, there was no way in hell you would have left the door open as Taehyung fucked you into oblivion. At least...that's what you want Jungkook to think.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but at the same time, a part of you was yearning for more.

"Jungkook what are you--"

You couldn't finish your sentence before he was upon you, his mouth devouring yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless.

You knew you should stop him, that you should push him away, but the arousal that Jungkook had stirred within you overcame any rational thought. You moaned into his mouth, your body arching into his, desire and want consuming your whole being.

He gently pushed you against the wall, his body caging yours in. Your lips met in a passionate collision that sent sparks flying between the two of you. Jungkook's tongue darted out to taste you, delving deep into your mouth with a groan. You welcomed him eagerly, your hands running through his messy hair before moving to his back, nails scratching lightly against his skin, leaving trails of desire.

He pulled away for a moment to run his nose along your jaw, inhaling deeply. To him, you tasted like cherry lip-gloss and wine, and Jungkook loved it. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it softly before whispering hoarsely against it, "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted this. How long I've wanted you."

His hands slid down your body, caressing your curves, making their way to your hips.

He lifted you up just enough that you wrapped your legs around his waist, arching into him.

Jungkook's free hand found its way under your shirt, tracing circles on your stomach before working its way up to cup your breast.

You moaned into the kiss, your head spinning from the mix of emotions coursing through your body. You've never been this intoxicated by someone before.

The scent of his cologne filled your senses, making you dizzy with want and need. You pressed your body against his hard length, feeling him stir against you. Your heart skipped a beat at his arousal, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of you.

You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air as you looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Take me to your room." Your voice came out husky, a mere whisper.

Jungkook didn't need to be asked twice, pulling you closer towards his room. As the two of you moved, he nipped at your neck, causing you to gasp and squirm in his arms.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, the sound of your passionate breathing filling the air. His room is only a few steps away, and he stumbled through the door, out of breath.

The two of you tumbled onto the bed together, your bodies entwined in a sea of need.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he murmured against your skin before kissing his way down your neck towards your clothed breasts. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your softness as his mouth traced a trail of fire across your collarbone. Your bodies moved together sensuously, practically in unison.

You paused for a moment, looking down at the obvious erection he was sporting beneath the sheet that was somehow still wrapped around his waist.

You could feel the warmth of Jungkook's body as you sat next to him, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with his breaths.

You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; You reached your hand out to touch the bulge in the sheet that covered his waist. Boldly, You slid your fingers over the fabric, teasing him as you dragged the seets downwards to reveal a hard, hot shaft.

Jungkook groaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your hand around it, encasing it within your warm, soft palm. It twitched in response, pulsing slightly under your touch.

Jungkook moaned softly, his lips parting as he watched your every move, hunger burning in his eyes. You had never felt so powerful before, so in control.

"You're going to drive me crazy, Y/N." Jungkook whispered, a hint of warning in his voice.

You grinned, happy to have succeeded in your goal, "But you know I love pushing buttons." you replied, voice thick with desire.

"Keep going." His voice was ragged, broken. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together, guiding your hand up and down his length. The fabric of the sheet brushed against your knuckles as it lay draped against his thighs.

You began to stroke him in sync with his movements, your breath hitching slightly at the feel of him. You took in the scent of his skin, warm and slightly salty with arousal, and the sound of your entwined fingers rubbing against the sheet, rustling softly.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his neck as you continued to stroke him. His skin was warm against your mouth, and you savored the taste of his sweat.

You nipped at his earlobe, delighting in the way he shivered beneath your touch. "Jungkook, can I suck your dick? Please?" You asked, your tongue dancing along his jawline.

He nodded against your lips, his hips bucking slightly, seeking more contact. You slid your other hand down to caress his balls, gently cupping them in your palm. They were heavy and full, and you couldn't help but wonder what they'd feel like in your hand when they were covered in your juices. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through your core, and you found yourself growing wetter and wetter by the minute.

"Y/N..." he moaned, his voice hoarse. "Please..."

You slipped the sheet away from him to allow yourself better access, quickly falling to your knees in front of him, and boy, did Jungkook love the sight.

You marvelled at the size of his cock, large and thick, glistening with pre-cum. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you wrapped your lips around the head, feeling his warm skin against your tongue.

Jungkook moaned deeply at the sensation, his fingers tangling in your hair as he felt the hot wetness envelop him. You licked and nuzzled the underside of his shaft with your tongue, teasing the sensitive skin with each flick before taking more of him in your mouth. You pulled back slowly, the head of Jungkook's cock slipping from your lips with an audible sucking sound, and then slid back down, taking him to the root with a loud gulp. Jungkook's hips bucked up off the mattress involuntarily, craving more.

You hummed in approval, cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head up and down, creating a rhythm that sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. You cupped one of Jungkook's balls in your hand, massaging gently as you continued to deep throat him. Jungkook's taste exploded on your tongue, filling the room with a musky scent that made the both of you shudder. Each time you withdrew, you flicked the sensitive tip with his tongue, driving Jungkook insane with lust.

"Fuck baby...just like that." He moaned, threading his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer to him.

Jungkook's muscles tensed under your touch, his thighs trembling with the effort to hold still. He felt himself growing closer to his peak, his cock throbbing in your mouth. The sounds of your breathing grew louder, faster, and the room was filled with wet, slurping noises as you sucked harder. His eyes fluttered open when he felt your teeth graze against the sensitive skin at the base of his cock, and he cried out, arching into the touch.

"Ahh, shit, that mouth feels so good.”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, a smirk gracing your lips. "Like that?" You asked, voice rough with desire.

Jungkook nodded, unable to form words as his body was consumed by pleasure. He reached down to stroke your hair, feeling the silky strands between his fingers as you moved faster, taking more of him into your mouth. Jungkook's hips bucked wildly now, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head. He could feel the familiar tingle spreading through his body, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-- shit, I'm close."

With one final thrust forward, Jungkook came, his release hot and thick in your mouth. He groaned loudly, almost giving out as he lost control.

You welcomed every drop, swallowing greedily as you continued to stroke Jungkook's length.

The room fell into silence, the only sound being their ragged breathing. Eventually, you pulled away, a satisfied smile on you face.

"That was amazing," Jungkook whispered, his cheeks flushed with arousal.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His hands cupped the back of your head, holding you close as you tasted your own handiwork. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you whispered, your voice still thick with desire.

Jungkook nodded before fiddling with the hem of your shorts, "Let me make you feel good too, Y/N. I wanna taste you."

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as he began to run his fingers up and down your thighs, his touch sending shivers coursing through your body.

"Jungkook, I'm all yours," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his as he continued to explore your body.

He smiled softly before slowly kissing his way up your inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path that sent a rush of excitement coursing through your body. He paused for a moment, his knees brushing against your legs as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire.

"Just tell me what you want, babe," he rasped, his voice low and full of lust.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You had never felt this exposed before, never this vulnerable. But you knew that this was what you wanted, this connection with him, and you trusted him implicitly.

"I-I want you, Jungkook. Please, just touch me."

Jungkook nodded moving himself slightly have have better access to your dripping pussy.

Smiling, he slowly pulled your shorts down your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to him.

You part your legs slightly, inviting him in as he pressed his lips to you slit, exploring with soft little licks and kisses. His warm breath bathed you sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Oh fuck..." You let out, arching your back slightly into his touch.

His tongue dove in, tracing your folds and flicking against your clit, lapping at your juices like a hungry animal. Your hips jerked forward involuntarily as he began to suck on your sensitive bud, drawing out a moan from the depths of your throat. "Jungkook..." you panted, gripping onto his hair tightly. He sucked harder, pulling on your clit between his teeth, and you gasped, feeling your whole body tense up.

"You taste so good," he mumbled against your entrance, tongue darting around inside of you.

To him, you tasted both sweet and salty, driving him wild.

Your breath hitched as he started thrusting his tongue in and out, in sync with his fingers that are now rubbing your entrance. His other hand squeezed your ass cheek, pulling you closer, and you whimpered, unable to focus on anything but the sensations coursing through you. Each thrust of his tongue hit your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you cried out, throwing your head back, hair falling in front of your face as you lost control.

You tried to push him away, needing a moment to catch your breath, but he didn't budge. His tongue pushed deeper, exploring every inch of you, and you can't help but whimper

"I'm so close!" You warned, voice thin and breaking.

Jungkook smirked, feeling a sense of power in being able to bring you this close so quickly. He quickened his pace, his tongue flicking and thrusting inside of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips bucked wildly, your back arched, and you cried out, your whole body trembling with pleasure.

When you could finally take no more, you cried out his name, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your orgasm gripping his tongue and clenching around him. Jungkook continued to lick and suckle at your sensitive folds, drawing out every last drop of pleasure that he could, until you finally collapsed back down onto the bed, spent and breathless.

He gently pulled away, giving you space to recover, his own breath coming out ragged as he stared down at you, awe written across his face.

"Y/N. That was incredible. You're incredible." He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair.

You leaned back slightly to meet his eyes, "I want you inside of me, Jungkook. Please."

"But...don't you want to take a break?" He asked, concern clear in his voice as he looked into your eyes. You smiled softly, understanding the concern behind his words.

"No. Please, Jungkook, I need you."

"Fuck..." He lowered his head and you found his dick, hard again after eating you out.

You gave him a few swift strokes, eliciting a moan followed by a string of curses.

You guided him towards your entrance, slowly opening your legs to expose yourself to him. You wanted him, needed him, and began taking him in slowly, inch by inch.

A low growl escaped his throat as you enveloped him fully, the two of you moving in perfect sync. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you closer, deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good," he groaned, chest heaving.

Jungkook thrust into you with a steady rhythm. His hips slapping against your ass as the two of you moaned in unison. The bed creaked with your movements, filling the air with an erotic melody. Your nails dug into Jungkook's back, leaving red marks visible against his perfect skin. He growled, biting down on your neck as he lifted you up and slammed you down onto him with more force. Your breasts swayed with each movement of his hips, nipples hardening against his chest.

"You feel so damn good," he growled, his hips bucking faster with each thrust, his eyes never leaving yours.

You moaned softly, meeting his thrusts with fervor. His breaths came out ragged, panting as he continued to move inside of you.

Your bodies moved together in perfect sync as he pinned you down, not wanting to lose the feeling of being this close to you. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that left you gasping for air.

To him, you tasted of both of your combined sweat and his essence as he nipped at your bottom lip before devouring it once more.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, urging him to go deeper. He groaned into the kiss and complied, slamming into you harder as he felt your inner walls clench around him.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, the word lingering there as you both pulled apart to gasp for air. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N." He slammed into you again, his pace quickening as he lost control. His fingers dug into your hips, marking your flesh with his nails.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, echoing in the silence. Your head hit the headboard with every powerful thrust, eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You whimpered Jungkook's name, voice hoarse from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You felt everything, each inch of him inside of you, and every touch that sent shivers down your spine.

You gripped onto his hair, pulling him closer for another deep kiss. Your tongues tangled together, hearts racing as the both of you lost yourselves in this moment. With every stroke of his hips, you felt the burning sensation between your legs intensify.

It was as if he was setting you on fire, and you couldn't get enough of it. His cock hit your G-spot over and over again, driving you wild with desire.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" You screamed, "I'm close!"

Your nails dug deeper into his skin, Jungkook hissed but didn't pull away, instead, he growled low in his throat and took your lip between his teeth, marking you.

You responded by biting his neck, hard enough to leave a mark of your own.

"Ah, Jungkook!" As Jungkook slammed into you harder and harder, a familiar coil began to build inside of you, bubbling up until finally waves of pleasure crashed over you, one after the other as you found your release.

Your moans and gasps filled the room, drowning out everything else, and Jungkook followed suit, his orgasm overtaking him not long after yours.

"Holy shit, Y/N, I'm gonna-- fuck!"

With one final thrust, Jungkook groaned and his hips stuttered, his warmth filling you up completely.

Your tongues tangled as the two of you kissed, your hearts beating together.

As you caught your breath and lay there together, your bodies still intertwined, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of completion. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sex and sweat, and your skin was slick with a sheen of perspiration.

Jungkook stroked your hair softly, his fingers gentle against your skin, and you could hear the ragged rhythm of his breathing. Your gaze met his, his eyes filled with vulnerability.

You leaned forward, lips brushing against his cheek, and whispered, "So, was all of that earlier...just to make me jealous? So I would give in and take the initiative?"

Jungkook's cheeks tinged a shade of pink, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, "You have no idea how long I've been into you. When I saw you with Taehyung, I just...I don't know. I saw the way you were with him, and I realized that I wanted to be the only one to make you scream like that."

Woah, that was some confession.

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of surprise, joy, and confusion wash over you. "What do you mean, you've been into me for a long time? For how long?"

Jungkook took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a blend of fear and love. "Since the first time I saw you. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just couldn't resist you. You're everything I've ever wanted, and I knew I had to have you, Y/N."

You felt your heart flutter at his words, and you gently caressed his cheek. "I...I've had feelings for you too, Jungkook."

"Although this absolutely fucking pains me to admit, I knew you were home that day. You know, the day with uh, Taehyung. I did that on purpose. I was...I was t-trying to make you jealous."

Jungkook laughed, continuing to stroke your hair, "Well it fucking worked."

You chuckled softly at his admission, your heart swelling with affection as you traced his jawline with your fingers.

"As long as we're honest with each other, it's all good. And honestly, I don't think I would have been able to resist you either," you admitted, a shy smile playing on your lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I want to make sure we get this right, Y/N. I don't want to rush into anything, and I want to make sure we're both happy."

You nodded, understanding the importance of taking things slow. "I agree, Jungkook. We can take our time, and we'll figure this out together."

As you lay entwined, your sweaty bodies still glistening from your passionate encounter, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. This was just the beginning of your journey together and you knew that, as long as you had each other, you could face anything that came your way. The world had just opened up in the most unexpected way, and the two of you were ready to explore it together, side by side.

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glitterjay · 4 days

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I need popular heeseung and unpopular y/n who has a crush on him but gets rejected when she tries and confesses but later on gets drunk and ends up in his bed

⭒ popular!heeseung, unpopular!reader, rejection, mention of alcohol / getting drunk, they dont fuck!!

⭒ c's note: it would hurt my following lives if heeseung rejected me

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @kissestoenha

lee heeseung, the captain of the basketball team and the man who has been your crush for as long as you can remember, was hosting a party this upcoming weekend to celebrate the team making it to nationals.

of course, the whole institute was invited because he's popular like that, and he knew his friends would want to invite others anyway.

your very own friends have been encouraging you for the past year to finally confess your feelings to heeseung. it wasn't that hard to talk to him at all. he wasn't a jerk type of popular.

"you won't know what could happen if you never try. what if he likes you back?" one of your friends said.

"and what if he rejects me?"

"then you'll be able to finally move on!"

you shook your head, still unsure. you always think you're ready to tell him how you feel, but you can't help but think that to him, you're just another girl who finds him attractive.

and you were right. you grew tired of your circle pestering you to go talk to him, saying how you could even have a chance to hook up with heeseung at the party. so you gathered the courage to approach him during your study hall while he was switching classes.

"heeseung, you've got a second?" you called.

he waved his friends off, shooting a kind smile that always melted you on the spot. "for sure! got questions about the party?"

you balanced on your heels, your hands playing with the hem of your shirt as you prepared yourself mentally.

"look, i know this is crazy and sudden," you started. "but i've liked you for quite some time now. i know you don't even know who i am; i'm just a phantom or whatever, but i just wanted you to know."

his smile never left his face, which was actually making you more nervous. he let out a giggle and ruffled your hair. "i appreciate it, really. there's no day where i don't get something like this told to me, so it's not sudden at all. i'm sorry i can't tell you my feelings, but what i can tell you is that i do know who you are. i've seen you a few times hanging out by the bleachers, and you were in my english class last semester! at least you aren't like those girls who are always on top of my ass." he shivered.

the entire world fell on your shoulders. it's true that you were expecting a rejection, but him actually knowing you left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

"regardless of what just happened, make sure to have fun, mkay? see you at the party?"

"yeah, see you at the party..."

"i dont want to go!"

"but you told heeseung you'd see him there!"

"and!?"

your friend was trying to get you out of bed, desperately throwing things at you—which you were dodging by being under the covers—so you could start getting ready.

"i don't want to humiliate myself like that."

"it'll be more humiliating if you stay here like a loser. c'mon!"

"ugh, fine!"

it took you about an hour to get ready, considering you had been crying since the encounter with the boy.

once ready, you and your friends headed straight to the party's location. to be honest, you did not want to see heeseung at all, but you deserved to have fun after getting rejected.

but it was not your day at all. you saw him, everywhere. every time you wanted a mew drink, on the dance floor, with his friends, he was in every corner you looked at.

this made you get drunk quite fast, drinking bottle after bottle to help you distract yourself from the thoughts flooding your mind.

later through the night, your friends scattered all over the place. you could feel your head spinning, and you wanted to go home.

you got up from where you were sitting, holding on to anything you could as to not fall.

the amount of people was making it even harder to walk, and in the blink of an eye, you bumped into someone. when you looked up, you saw no other than lee heeseung himself holding on to your waist.

you weren't going to lie, he looked hot. maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you felt like you could kiss him right there.

"are you okay?"

you didnt answer. you kept staring right at his face. his hair slicked back made his face features a lot more noticeable. he should start styling his hair that way more often.

heeseung dragged you with him to his room. it was the safest place he could think of since it was locked and only he had he key.

he sat you down on his bed and gave you a water bottle he had on his nightstand.

the water was able to sober you up a bit, and now you were aware of your surroundings. still, you had the urge to kiss heeseung's gorgeous face, something you would not think of if you were in your right mind.

"hey, heeseung?"

"hmm?"

"can i kiss you?"

"only if you sober up."

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #engene #kpop #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen imagine #enha imagine #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung

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uyuartik · 3 months

Text

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader) part ii

tags: same as before except more unhinged, (slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT), idiots in love, friends with benefits though it is more than that, oral sex (fem and male receiving), fingering, piv sex, overstimulation, thigh riding, dom!obi?, ANGST AT SOME POINT(S), tension so high that they should be on medication, me shortening every uncle-in-law phrase to uncle bcs english sucks in family terms, overuse of commas because editing 42 pages is hard

a/n: HELLO AGAIN, thank you all so much for all the love you've shown, i couldn't be more grateful. sorry for the *long* wait, i just thought the story needed a little longer than a week to do its trick, and frankly i am a busy person so 7 day gap wouldn't work for me. but i hope you can forgive me with this beast of a chapter, it is my first time writing such a long one. hope you enjoy it, and see you all again soon!

also not so fun fact: i totally misunderstood the "season", thinking it should be around summer- early autumn but it was the other way around, sorry, all the historical babes (i can no longer call myself that) for the frustration. but this timetable suits this story much better, does it not?

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

part one | part two | part three

enjoy!!!

word count: 19.7K

chapter two: it's a bad idea, right?

The morning or to be exact, the noon, is when you finally feel refreshed, ready for the challenges of the day. Lucky, because your relatives are more than understanding, has always been. They would scold you for going about your day as a ghost rather than miss breakfast or join only halfway to their other activities. You always try to honor their kindness, not to take advantage of the privileges as a guest, and do your best to spend time with your cousin Carolina, (The young girl has all the benefits of her young age, full of energy and excitement, fascinated by the stories she hears (from you, mostly)), and also avoid bringing a man into your room under their roof and absolutely ravaging each other-

The last one is an exception, which you are not proud of, yet not a single drop of guilt muddies your soul. None, considering the enjoyment or strengthened bonds.

Speaking of it, something tells you that you'd have been late anyways if you woke up early, thanks to him. There's indeed a mark on the side of your neck, just where it meets your shoulder. Also, your thighs share the same fate, though lightly, a few small bruises and red, irritated areas thanks to his neat beard. Thankfully, they're quite hidden except the one that's not that has you cursing at him. For how good it felt, and for his daredevil nature.

You're scared to admit your fear for your future with him, not in the romantic expectations aspect, you would never, but for the simpler stuff like how are you going to look at his face and not be reminded of its presence between your legs. Or the unending tease he’ll become, even more so than usual, rightfully so. Make no mistake, you had pretty high expectations, and an overall picture of your relationships past it. Yet, last night was its own entity, reducing you to a mess in the most beautiful way, plucking every thought from your mind, yet dropping seeds of doubt like this.

Still, there’s a foolish smile on your face, and some soreness in between your legs, a welcomed ache.

Nonetheless, you’re not sure how to react when you descend the stairs, and he’s there, sharing tea with your aunt and uncle.

Obi Wan stands up in a blink, even before your aunt has the chance to react to your entry.

“Oh, here you are, sweetie! Just in time to join us in the gardens, and look, who’s here!”

“Hello, auntie. Uncle.” For what’s worth, you like being here, with them, and nothing changes that. You can feel the adamantine warm cloud of love in your chest. The reason you never doubted coming here.

“Lord Kenobi.” You greet him as well, though not with that big smile and sincerity you’ve just shown.

“My Lady.” His indifferent tone is interesting. Indifferent, yet indifferent as any other time, respectful and overly sympathetic. Maybe the situation isn’t as bad as you think? Yet, he’s here, isn’t he? His very presence is questionable enough.

“How good of the young man to join us, don’t you think? Though I fear it’s only due to work issues, and not out of courtesy.”

Yes, how good! And definitely not out of courtesy.

“You hurt me, Madam.” He objects, frowning his brows. “I must say this house, with its amiable hosts, has always had a great place in my heart. Last night once again proved it right, it was the best ball I’ve ever been to all summer. In fact, I was thinking of learning your contacts for the band and the cook, you inspired me to throw my own.”

You really, really try to not roll your eyes, and drop the tea that’s being offered to you now.

“Oh, no problem at all! I’ll write them down when we finish the paperwork in my study.” Your uncle says, and the absolute charmed look and excitation in his eyes have your stomach sinking. “And how are you, my dear? Haven’t you shaken out the morning chill yet?” He points to your shawl, wrapped tightly around your neck. You powdered the marks, and put on a big necklace, but then decided you couldn’t be too careful, and put on the fabric too.

“Yes, I think the weather change wasn’t quite easy on me this time.” You reach for the honey, making a show of it so they don’t put you in the center of attention.

“Did you sleep well last night?”So, it doesn’t work. And that’s about the one question you hoped to avoid.

“Despite the exertion taking place-“ Kenobi’s eyes widen, exaggerated by the teacup basically covering other parts of his face, and for a second you think he may choke on his tea. “downstairs, I say it was the best sleep I could’ve ever had.”

You hope your acting inspires the same in him too. He suppresses that little cough well, and the blush settling in his cheeks is faint, easily blamed on the warmth of the drink.

Strike one.

Irritation grows in you, rather than anxiety. Does he really think you’re that crude? That dumb? You make a point of not looking his way after that, an attitude clearly noticed by him in no time. It’s not like he has any chance of talking about it, but the alarm bell in his head rings continuously, busying his mind ‘til the opportune moment comes to talk about it.

Then, a gleeful screech of your name fills the room. In a blink, your cousin is right next to you, wrapping her arms tightly around your shoulder that you can’t properly stand up and hug her back in a normal way.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up all day long!” She says, hands reaching to hold yours, almost causing you to lose control of the fabric covering your neck. “We’ve got so much to do! And you were going to tell me all about Naboo! Did you really get to see the lions?”

“Sweetie-“ Despite the wildness of the affection you are given, there’s a huge smile on your face, and you almost make her sit on your lap- an old habit from her younger years.

“Come now- you promised to go riding with me. I want to show you how much I improved.”

“Well-“ your poor, poor legs are in no condition for that kind of activity. “I think it’s best if we do that tomorrow. You see, I had enough of it yesterday, I’ve been in a carriage all day.”

His smirking, twinkling eyes.

Strike two.

Your furious gaze kills that gleam quickly though. The faint smirk disappears, and he straightens his back, clearing his throat.

“Carolina, can’t you see we have a guest? Where are your manners? And give your poor cousin some space, for God’s sake!” Your aunt exaggerates like any mother of her generation, that high pitched voice screeching every ear in the room.

You should be glad to see the subject changed, but the condition of it is bitter. She bows her head down, taking a few steps away from you, but you hold onto her hand, keeping her near.

“Hello, young lady. I am Obi Wan Kenobi.” He sounds- sympathetic, though not overly. It is this sweet balance between respecting their being without the prejudices of age, but compassionate enough not to crush them under expectations they are yet to achieve. Interpreting this from just a couple of words seems a bit of a stretch, you know, still, his whole attitude screams he’s got some experience talking to kids, or considerable knowledge about the human psyche.

“He’s a friend of mine.” You explain further, trying to ease her.

“Welcome, Lord Kenobi.” She curtsies, yeah, she’s perfected that, you observe with proud eyes.

“I didn’t see you at the ball last night, I’m afraid.” Like he was there longer than an hour.

“It was past my bedtime.” The look she gives her parents tells him all he needs to know about her character, or precisely who influences her. He wonders if it was any similar to yours. “I hope you had a wonderful time. You must’ve, because she’s an excellent dancer.” She turns at you, smiling so innocently that you can’t blame her for complicating things. “She taught me all about it, even better than my tutors.”

“Oh, no, we didn’t-“ The sentence synchronically rolls from both of your tongues, but you stop as you realize. There’s an abrupt silence in the room for a few seconds, causing anger to bubble up in you once more, and forcing you to make up an excuse to break free from this atmosphere.

“Hey,” You tug on her arm, “I’ve brought candy.” And just like that, she’s jumping all over you, bouncing with joy, “Sshh,” You warn. “First we need to go somewhere unseen.”

===

You see him again, days after, when he’s clearly learned his lesson, and gave you a window to breathe, calm your fury. The worst thing? It works. You can imagine (or in other words daydream) the next time you two see each other, which you desperately wish for it to be soon, and picture keeping yourself from stepping onto his feet, or shoving your finger into his chest. It all could not be forgotten but worked out through little warnings and explanations. Communication, basically.

And it turns out, you don't have to imagine any longer, and have the perfect opportunity to test your temper.

In a cafe. Where you sit alone. Blissfully ignorant of the couples (or to-be-couples) surrounding you. But most importantly, unchaperoned. (You had your tongue to defy any unwanted presence, and it's not like people came here alone like yourself. They came here for dates. And if anything, your presence was a litmus paper. What was to happen in marriage, if one couldn’t even keep their eyes from others in those little flirtatious rendezvous?)

(Though you knew some didn’t see it that way. A temptress, their choice of word to describe you.)

Obi Wan walks up to your table in quick, big steps that somehow don’t capture the attention of anyone but you. A further proof of that magic dust he sprinkles. He’s dressed in browns today. It is a welcomed change. The smile on his face is unbeatably prominent, even as he follows the guide of manners, bowing his head and removing his hat before he sits in front of you. There’s no indication of his previous whereabouts in his looks and you wonder how he found you. Was he simply passing by the establishment before noticing your presence, or did he inquire about your engagements today, asking around?

"You shouldn't be here." It’s that sweet tone of yours, an alarm said in the softest of inclinations. “I have no company.” While it is redundant to both of your mindsets, the need of a chaperone for every conversation you have with strangers, you like to be cautious.

Then let me be it, he would’ve said, if it wasn’t literally the first time after your distasteful encounter. He’s not going to throw away that lesson for a shot of comedy. Or the fact that it’s hardly a request, but again- It’s not worth it. “I just wanted to say how sorry I was for the last time. It was- unadvisable to say the least.”

That- feels so good to hear, somehow. Far better than expected. You lean back in your chair, a sly smile on your face that you can’t help, and a subtle blush, a total contrast to your attitude.

“What can I say though? I don’t know if it’s still possible to be unsatisfied, but I sure felt like that if I didn’t see you again.”

Your fingers grasp the fork far too tightly, considering you have no appetite left for the desert in front of you. It’s the flashbacks from that night, and the undeniable effects it had on both of you.

“Well, apology accepted.”

He releases a breath after your words, visibly relaxed, amusing you further. You focus your gaze on the plate, in hopes of blending this conversation into the atmosphere around.

You add. “Then again, don’t take my forgiveness for granted. None of my partners were this careless, and I seriously expected better from you.”

(You're quite aware this is not the sort of conversation fit here.)

The interruption of “Oh, that will never even cross my mind.”, turns into “Partners?”, thankfully in a whisper, but sharp enough that it holds the same value as a shriek. He plays it off like it’s a frivolous question, a part of your ongoing banter, a mere thread to spin the conversation.

As if you gave the perfect impression of a blushing virgin that night. You flutter your lashes, as you take a bite. The silence is absolutely deafening, before you can continue. “There’s a reason I like traveling that much. Naboo. Correlia. Alderaan. God, even Hoth.” The discomfort in his face grows, and you fight it with an explanation, hoping that’s the reason. “Never at the same time, though, if it wasn’t obvious. It was just about having good company if I was to spend months in a city.”

“Yes, yes of course.” He shakes his head, an act of his nonjudgemental nature. “So, am I the Coruscant part of your little play?”

“No. You're the exception.” You laugh. “I haven’t- not here. I wouldn’t dare. Too little privacy. No trust. Above all, not a single soul that felt like a match of my own. Til I met you.” He deserves to hear that, right? “However I must say, the rules would be a little different here. Requires more caution. Fine work. For example, you couldn’t come and see me like this whenever you desire."

"Fair enough." He agrees, though makes little effort to follow the lesson. Actually, not even little, none. He just sits there, moulding into his chair further, a pleasant grin as he takes the world in, entertaining himself with the surrounding people. And you, of course. His piercing gaze travels back to you, every time.

Well, right. Not like you wanted him off of your table. "What do you want, Lord Kenobi?" And how did you know I would be here anyway?

"Are you coming to the picnic on Saturday, in the Perlemian Park?"

You were certainly thinking about it. "Possibly."

"I'm only going if you are joining too." He wets his lips, an action you don't miss, and you continue to watch it long after he's done and see the next words coming out, before your brain can comprehend their meaning. "So, I'll need a better answer."

The same lips that mapped out your entire body, whispered all those dirty things, tasted your hidden corners, drinking in the pleasure it provided…

He clears his throat, and you break out of the trance. He looks at you with a brow lifted, but the twinkles behind his blue eyes tell you it's not out of boredom. More like the exact opposite.

"I'll be there."

This is his cue to leave, with excitement for the said event, and a tinge of sadness for this interaction ending. You mirror his manners as he bids you a good day.

Then, you're left alone, exactly as merely half an hour ago. Yet, the dessert in front of you is unsavory, nowhere near enough to satisfy your sweet tooth.

It is still completely the same.

===

Comes Saturday, and does it come slower than possible… The weather seems like it's making one last show before the summer ends and scorches the earth, leaving everyone a sweating mess, little to no words coming out of their mouth, sprawled on the nearest surface. You seriously debate whether calling the offer off, the choice of fanning yourself to a lazy nap sounding better and better. It is in these extensive relaxations that you uncover the horrid truth- your fingers fell short in bringing you pleasure now, making you an even more sweaty, frustrated mess rather than the relaxed, drowsy mess you want to be. It is an awful revelation, bringing along many questions that haunt your every waking hour. You fear it's got something to do with him- and the best prescription for you is to stay away.

Alas, you keep true to your promise and show up.

Thankfully the air has calmed down on said day, and sorbets are refreshing, making it more than a bearable experience. Bearable is actually an insult in this case, for it is more than that. These people are some of your oldest friends, close to your age, and share your opinions. It is hard not having fun when you are allowed to be free (just a little more than normal, though it is enough). None cares about the obscene gossip, or juices of fruit staining faces, dripping onto the expensive fabrics you all are adorned in. Laughs are loud and constant, never letting three minutes go without them. Hands are all flying around, hitting each other as a joke, reaching for the last piece of cake, taking the very dangerous road back without spilling a drop of the drink (which is, once again, a target of pranks).

Obi Wan enjoys it as much as you do, despite the fact that he doesn’t know them like you do. His life doesn’t allow much leisure time, and his choice of friends is mostly unfitting to these kinds of events, but he doesn’t have a problem finding joy in these kinds of events. Maybe it is mostly due to you, watching you in your nature, admiring the way you handle yourself among the crossfire of jokes, or what foods you prefer the most, making silly expressions as the taste of them hits just right. With every little thing he learns about you, he’s drawn closer to you. Once, he would name you a mystery, yet that would indicate the thrill was all in revelation. Now, it is the exact opposite. He gets more excited with each new question, like what is the actual story behind the “donkey joke” you are hinting at, or why do you pick some of the seemingly perfectly looking strawberries aside and pick others- or why you blush when you catch him looking at you, only to do the same yourself?

It is only in the afternoon that the buzz leaves its place for something serene. Conversations diminish, replies take longer, bodies sag and lean on the nearest surface, be the tree trunks or picnic baskets or their loved ones.

C’mon then, let’s take a walk. One proposes, and others follow, albeit slowly and with protests. You are among the latter, every cell in your body refusing to produce or use energy.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons you end up at the very back of the group with Lord Kenobi, and while you manage to stick with him unlike your friends, the distance between you and them grows and now, you can safely say that you’ve lost the sight of them. Twenty minutes ago.

So yes, you’ve been walking alongside him in silence. Far away that you don’t brush hands, yet so close that it would raise questions if someone were to see.

“I don’t think this is doing much for my somnolence.” He basically yawns.

"Should I take that as an insult, my Lord?"

"Why would you- what did I say to make you think so?" He shakes his head, as stubborn as he's apologetic, ready to accept the accusation if your reasons are firm. Still, his heart is already pacing up, distressed. That must be the wine taking over.

"Well, am I not the only reason for your presence? And I must be boring you, if you are still feeling drowsy."

"No- Absolutely untrue- “ He stutters, a panic to find the right words, not to be buried under your claims, he is not going to lose his chance to be by your side- only to realize the grin on your face too late.

"You little minx." He breathes out, and is rewarded by the sound of your tempting giggle.

"Seems like I successfully rid you of your problem." You take pride. "And now, I suggest walking by the lake, to ensure its permeance."

"You mean to dip my feet in the water?" Again, he shakes his head, already rejecting the proposition.

"If you don't do it I shall." You skip, prancing like a nymph before he grabs you by the arm.

“I don’t think that is safe.”

“It perfectly is.” You state, bewildered by his anxious urge. One look into his hand, and he remembers to let you go. The said hand flies to his hair, with an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, but – let me be by your side. And make it quick.”

The fact that he thinks you need his approval is downright funny, though you’d take issue with it any other time. Now, you are amused by his good intended worries and don’t have it in your conscience to break his heart over it, or bring up a quarrel.

So, you start undressing. Only your socks and shoes.

Still, the blush settles on his cheeks, and the light behind his eyes burns brighter as he sees the skin just above your knees naked. Not for the first time- still, he feels like turning his back on you, but does no such thing. And that is not because it defeats the purpose of his presence.

God, how could you even make you believe he wasn’t planning on having these impure thoughts?

You feel your temperature rising, and it has nothing to do with the sun. You meet his hypnotized eyes, and can still feel it focused on you. After days of dissatisfaction, its effect is multiplied by ten, making your heart race. You pray none of it is visible on your face. the last thing you need is for him to know.

He laughs when you lay the white fabric in the old woods of the docks, like the spoiled child you are. It is more than likely to stain, but more importantly, it is definitely old, creacking under every step, hence his aversion to sit beside you with a head shake. You shrug in return, and pull your skirt slightly above your knees, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Oh, this is lovely!” You say, sprawling your toes in the water. “Truly, you are missing out.”

“I believe you, my Lady.” His tone is joyful, just the right combination of trust and mockery.

You turn to look at him, a big mistake. The excess part of your dress brushes the surface, wetting the fabric, though it is the last thing you care. He is looking at you, with that charming grin, and subtle hunger etched into his gaze, screaming worship, in complete awe of the scene he's beholding, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, holding his hand, her dress bunched up like in those ancient paintings of fairies, and endless passion for the leading role of it. It swirls the emotions deep inside your belly, the only reaction you want to avoid. Yet, you’re not immune to it. your heart skips a beat, the tingles overtaking your skin.

“Look- I see fishes!” You whip your head, the one thing you can do in hopes of breaking the tension. You lean forward, trying to get a clear view, or try to do so because you are stopped by his grip.

“That’s enough.” The command sends a shiver down your spine. “You shouldn’t go any further.”

“Fine.” You huff, the simplest protest you can manage. His touch softens as he realizes you’re going to follow his words, though takes long to let go.

A few minutes pass in the silence of nature.

“How long are you going to stand like this?” You ask, exasperated that this isn’t going anything like you imagined.

“What?”

“I feel like I’m also standing, this is hardly fun.”

“That is only the result of your own choice.”

Narrowing your eyes, you huff and climb back on your feet, disregarding the objections of the offended dock. Then, you push past him-

He suddenly pulls you back, promptly disrupting your balance, a tactic he uses to pick you up into his arms. You scream as your feet meet the air, hands grabbing anything they can reach which ends up being his clothes.

“What are you doing?!” You yell, burying your fingers into him. With how strong your grip is, you can feel every muscle tensing under your touch.

“I’m not gonna let you walk in that mud, after all.” He explains like it was the problem you were referring to.”

“My shoes! – and-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get them.”

He adores the pout you have as he fetches them.

He leans his back on the tree, and you rest your arms on your knees, propped up.

“So, we are to sit here and sulk?”

“If you name it so.” His smile is borderline insulting, ear to ear. With one look, he points at the reason- your wet feet. There’s literally no choice but to wait for them to dry up. But by proposing the only solution, he infuriates you further.

“Very interesting.” You snark. “I would’ve just stood back if I knew this was what we would be doing.”

“And now it is I who might take those words as an insult. Have I somehow proven my companionship to be loathsome in the times we spent together?”

Times you spent together… The flashbacks are, as implied in their name, flash before your eyes at such great speed that by the time you realize it is not something you should ponder upon now, your heart rate is already up, the flame deep in your belly ignited once again, and even the sounds of the past are echoing in your ears. You turn your head away from him, cursing at the color blooming on your cheeks.

Oh, but the action is enough to let him know exactly what you are feeling, a song of “I thought so” on his tongue- yet he doesn’t sing it yet, realizing the underestimation of his own emotions. He brings it upon himself- a glance at you, taking in your red face (as much as possible) and bare legs, let out to the sun to dry up.

“Well, I’ll think that’s the case if you don’t say anything.” He opts to say this instead, loving to taunt you further.

“It’s not.” You mumble, still turned to the other side, fingernails digging at your palm.

“I can’t hear you, dear.”

“I said-“

The moment you move your head, you are met with his face, so close to yours, a distance he promptly closes by placing a hand at your neck, and tugging at it, ‘til your lips crash. You lose your balance once more, gripping his collars to not fully crush him with your weight. You gasp, the only protest you have in yourself, because for all your resolve to stay away, here you are, falling right into his arms. And it feels so damn good.

You gasp, pushing him. He laughs as his back hits the tree, never once breaking eye contact.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You whisper-scream, suddenly aware of the fact that while you are all alone on this field, your friends are still very much around.

“Oh, what am I doing? It is you, darling, don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you were looking at me.”

You direct your gaze to the ground, embarrassment getting the better of you.

“What is it?” He questions your lack of defiance. “You had no problem before. Don’t tell me you’re scared of being seen. They should at least be like, a mile away.”

Yeah. That’s absolutely correct. Besides, you’re shielded from any unwanted visitors by the thick line of trees, and the sheer distance between there and the path. It is a secluded corner of the lakeside.

“Or is there something else that’s bothering you?” This, is said in a more suggestive tone, and its effect is only amplified by the way he holds your chin to refocus your attention. You burn under his grasp and insistent watch.

Say farewell to your pride.

You let yourself fall over him once more, kissing him with a whimper you can’t quite suppress. You feel his smirk at that, but neither of you dwells on it, for he too lets out a sound of desperation, panting as he pulls you close, placing you on his thigh. (You hear your dress positively rubbing against the grass, and dare not to imagine the green blotch that may appear.) You don’t know whether to celebrate your newfound closeness or chastise your weak will, for it creates a new wave of desire in you as you delve your fingers into his beard. Your skin lights up against his coarse hair, so familiar yet so unyielding under your touch, and to be holding his face in your hands like this only blinds you more. So blind that you only realize the movement of your hips, seeking pleasure, when he holds them.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” A kiss right on the left corner of your lips. “Are you haunted by that night so deeply that you are unable to satisfy your needs on your own, like me? Or hell, with another?” Even in the midst of haze, you don’t miss the way his eyes darken at the mention of a third party.

“No- only you.” You whisper, too afraid of things ending.

“Fuck.” He can’t help but burst at your surrender. “That’s my girl. Lift your hips a little for me, darling.”

You oblige without question, raising yourself on your trembling thighs. Holding your breath, imagining all the things he can do to you… He is bewitched by your neediness, the way you moan at the first contact his hand makes with your skin after lifting your skirt just above your knees so you have more freedom to move, and can directly sit on his thigh.

Speaking of it, why? Your eyebrows scrunch as he pushes you down like that, though the actual questioning part comes a second after your clit rubs against the fabric, not his cock, the first jolt of true ecstasy you experienced in a while, but that can’t be the case for him, right? “What are you-?”

“Trust me.” He takes his sweet time to relish the expense of your neck, so close for his taking, partly to ease your nerves, and frankly it is too much fun for his own good to feel you twitch in anticipation, and your breath getting stolen away at his open-mouthed kisses, panting when he lingers on a spot for too long at the fear of him leaving a bruise. “No marks, I perfectly remember.” He has to confess after a point, and only after that point, you begin to truly relax, and have your heart beating so fast at the same time, noticing your wetness is positively seeping into his clothes.

Your jaw hangs open with a silent pant as he decides it’s enough, and guides your body, rocking onto his. It’s not something you haven’t done before, but there’s something so unique about now, maybe the scandalous location, or your depraved state, or simply everything regarding him, that you are convinced it looks like your first time. Shit, it may even be your first time, considering the previous examples are nowhere close to this, the stakes, the desperation, the payoff… You’re holding onto his shoulders like a fucking virgin, pressed so close to receive every bit of affection he's giving. It’s the damn heat, the greatest excuse on your lips for the last couple of weeks, invalidated by the nonexistence of space between you and him. It only causes sweat to pour out of both of you, like the constant drip out of your cunt, sabotaging all your attempts to gain control, and create the slightest of frustration.

“Obi Wan.” You chant his name, unable to form any other word, and he drinks it all in, valiantly ignoring the ache in his cock. It is a hard task, a growing challenge as your knee brushes against it from time to time, especially when you try to take initiative and escape the rhythm he’s trying to create.

“Ah-ah-ah- Let me take over. You know we’re short on time, darling.”

Then, he does justice to his words as he bounces his leg, the added pressure claiming a gasp from you.

“Do that again.” What your efforts can't get you, maybe your pleads can. After all, you're just as stubborn as him, giving up easily is not on your book.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

You roll your eyes, though it is totally due to annoyance, and let out a moan, throwing your head back. The fresh air does nothing for your lungs anymore, just an outlet for your scandalous noises. Which, he has no complaints too, your erratic breaths warmed his neck enough, and blessed him with those sweet sounds, right under his ear. Oh, but in any other case, this was anywhere else, and he had to silence you, also which he has no complaints too. Perhaps the sole problem is missing the blissed out expressions of your pretty face, and the light in your eyes, burning for him.

“Are you close?” Like he even needs to ask, like he’s not aware of your moans turned whimpers.

“Hmmh.” Is all the answer he gets, and that’s enough for him, laughing quietly, as you feel the vibrations of his chest.

When you cum, it is indeed an earth-shattering moment, and an end to your misery, the first drop of water after thirst- so much so that you don’t care about it happening in such a short time. Your legs squeeze his firm thigh, shaking over them like the rest of you. His one hand travels to your waist, holding you steady and pressed against him. You swear you can feel every aspect of his hand over three layers of fabric, yet he’s not actually exerting that much power, treating you like a delicate flower, afraid to crush the silky petals.

You sigh as the trembles die down, your senses coming back to you one by one- the first and foremost the tension in the body beneath you. Your fingers loosen from his collars, and travel the expanse of his torso slowly, a kiss to his throat in the meantime.

“Don’t you worry about me.” His voice is slightly shaky, though it may very well be due to his exertion.

“I think I should.” Its trueness is further proven when you palm him, and he groans. Though he is insistent.

“Look at you, you sweet thing, concerned with me walking around with a hard-on.”

That has you rolling your eyes, and removing your hand. Removing your entire body, even. You settle on the grass, leaning on your elbows. Your dress is already ruined, so you’re past the point of worrying.

“On the other hand, you may want to think about this.” He points to his wet trousers, the dark stain visible even though the fabric is black.

Uh oh. That is indeed a problem, if you are to return soon. Unfortunately, your brain can’t grasp the danger, coming up with solutions like soaking him entirely in the lake…

So, it’s no wonder that your next words are a joke.“You marked me, I marked you. We're even.”

To your surprise, it works. His laughter fills the entire forest, yours a whisper in comparison. The idea that maybe, just maybe this can be repeated every now and then, that it wouldn't harm anyone fills your chest with a different kind of cheer, a hopeful sensation that suits the summer. He's proven his carefulness, making the best of the situation without risking either of you. The rising hope in you should scare you, but it doesn't. It only makes you sprawl under the sun like a cat enjoying the heat, and join his laughter with a big grin.

“Fair. Absolutely fair.”

===

The next time you see each other again, things seem to cool down a bit. It is entirely a civil dinner, always at a respectable distance, the number of times you lock eyes are countable on one hand (though some border the edge of being a little too long), and it is all not so surprisingly, plain. Maybe it is about both of you trying to contain one’s self, so much so that the other core aspect of both of you, the humorous side is buried that night and no other person can live up to its ghost. Perhaps it is due to the upcoming end of summer, bringing out a tinge of melancholy, already mourning the past, thus your impulses dwindle down, the sparkles absent.

That is, ‘til, you are the only occupants in the saloon, after the other guests have left, and your aunts retreated to their rooms. You are reading a book, barely aware of the fact when he, sitting next to you in that single armchair drops whatever pen he’s holding, just by your feet. You’re pulled out of your trance by the sound it creates, raising your gaze from the page just in time to see him bending over to retrieve it or- ending up completely kneeling in front of your legs.

He raises his head, and you watch the way his face softly being illuminated by the candlelight, a smile you can’t decide whether charming or devilish, long abandoning his mission.

That’s the moment the air shifts, and the room feels hotter like the cheminee is lit, the heat wave has returned, and taken both of you to that lakeside, and the week before it, the frustration and despair that came with being unable to take care of yourself. You haven’t felt such a thing after, perhaps, it’s due to your fulfilled state and therefore lack of trial, but now, the need returns, like adding more to an already full cup, realization only hitting after the drops spill from the sides. The cup demands to be emptied, - translation: your soul demands whatever pleasure you can get your hands on- and the image of him causing it is certainly a preference.

(Again, it is your soul that’s demanding it- your brain would very much like to lock you away in the furthest corner of this house, or kick him, if that’s all you can manage.)

“Excuse me?”

“I just remembered how I failed to say how beautiful you look tonight.”

“Thank you.” Your mouth speaks before you can protest the improperness of your situation. Color settles on your cheeks for accepting his compliment first. “What are you doing?”

“Collecting my pen.” He shrugs, and demonstratively takes it to his hand, yet it is once more left to the ground instead of the nearest table, with the rest of his papers. He adds, “I admire how you are an expert in navigating every social situation, whether it's a boring dinner like this, or a ball.

Your eyebrows raise at the boring part, after all, it's hosted by your relatives, and it wasn't exactly boring, maybe a little uneventful. “Not every occasion has to be full of adventure, Lord Kenobi. Slow nights like this are beneficial for the soul. Gives the mind some rest.”

He purses his lips, like he’s been told on his bluff, the one part he emphasized to sound strong. Because, he is. He had fun tonight, the type that fills one’s heart with sweet lethargy. “I suppose you’re correct. But you’re missing out on an important detail.”

“And what is that?”

“The right company.”

You’re glad that your hands were pressing against the book, holding the page, because if they weren’t, they would be visibly shaking.

“I have underestimated how much I missed you, that much is clear to me now.” Barely speaking, or barely speaking anything important with you throughout the evening, yet he feels rejuvenated, the ache in his chest becoming prominent as it starts the heal. He doesn’t say the last part, but the sentiment is reflected in the soft sparkle behind his eyes, the hypnotic storm, pulling you towards unknown chaos, but beautiful, and promising safety in its center. That’s why you don’t protest as his hand reaches for yours, brushing your knee (he wanted to do that for some time, to feel the soft fabric that basically decorates your body), interlocking fingers, and reluctantly retreating them in favor of taking the book that sits in your lap, setting it aside. You don’t protest, despite the screams in your head, saying he’s right there why is he still there-

“And the other thing I missed terribly, the sight of your legs.”

Your shaky inhale echoes.

His fingers gently close over your ankles, and travel upwards slowly, lifting your dress alongside. “Though I’ve only seen them twice, they might be my favorite view, ever.”

“Is that so?” You are perplexed by the confession, with a lazy grin, very much enjoying the seduction. His way with words seems like a constant threat to your sanity, but damn do you adore it dearly, a voluntary victim to its spell.

“Why would I ever lie to you?” He whispers, hands tightening. “I like them very much. But I think I would like them better around my shoulders.” He pulls your knees slightly, causing you to yelp as your back caves in, and grasps your ankles once more, proceeding to demonstrate exactly his words.

“What are you doing?” You ask, like you don’t know the answer. It is a statement, an acknowledgment, the last chance to bring some sense into any of you. You’re in the living room, in a house that is not your own, filled with people who are still very well awake, and can just decide to come in.

“Having a second dessert, if I may?” And how can you refuse, after the image is served to you on a golden plate?

“But at the lake - You were-”

“You think I'm doing this for recompensation?”

“No, I didn't mean to imply that.” God, this is embarrassing. “I just wanted to say I might miss having my way with you.”

“I’ll be glad to take that as a promise.”

Then, it is settled.

Still, he waits for your small nod and takes in the way you bite your lip, wishing he was the one to do so, but- priorities. Time is a valuable asset, especially now, and he has to honor his offer. That’s why he opts for a few small, open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, actively fighting the desire to leave bruises, evidence, a memory. Judging by the rapidness of your breath, it seems he has reached his goal in some way. It’s the beard- scratching your skin even when his mouth is not doing something, sensitizing the flesh and making it all too susceptible to the incoming assault. Your hand flies up, absentmindedly reaching for his hair, yet stopping a second before, landing on the couch instead- if you messed up his hair, there’s no coming back from it. He chuckles at your struggle, the warm breath making you squirm. Even if you don’t, he’s maddened by action, despite the laugh. He has you- but not really. He’s enveloped in your heat, taking in your scent, and seconds away from tasting you, but is not able to be blessed with the slight pain he'd felt if you tugged on his strands, or the untamed sounds you’d have sung in a more private setting.

So yes, he’s as torn and desperate as you. Slow nights, you said?

Truth be told, it doesn’t matter what adjective comes before the word; slow or fast, boring or exciting as hell, freezing or hellishly hot; if it is with you, it is a good night. Otherwise, it is lacking. The world may be painted gray forever, considering you two mostly don’t get the chance to spend more than two occasions together in a week, but there can be no comparison to colorful scene of those moments.

And this is the night Obi Wan admits that fact.

You both moan, when his tongue finally meets your cunt, licking a messy stripe. It is more of a vibration than a noise- possibly for the best. It makes you jolt, and his hold tightens, and again, it is for the best, because when he decides to pay attention to your clit after his time exploring your folds is done, your limbs start to shake, threatening to fall. Your eyes roll back when things settle, and pleasure starts to build up, your juices flowing, and he drinks it all in before they have the chance to make a mess of your dress.

That is the first time he takes a break. “Eyes on me, darling.”

What is with him and that special request?

Your whine doesn’t mean anything to him, except make his cock twitch in his now tight trousers- but that has other reasons too. He waits ‘til your eyelids open once more, and you meet his gaze, and a second longer, unable to resist the urge to get lost in your hazy expression. Then, he dives back in, swirling the muscle around your bundle of nerves. In any other circumstance, you’d have thought this would be too indelicate, so straight to the point, no fun or respect, yet his way to do so is anything but those qualities. His movements are precisely designed for you, slow enough to not cause discomfort, fast enough to make the best of your unknown time limit. You’re afraid to deduce that one time was enough for him to learn you, one time to turn your world upside down, and leave you to deal with the memory of it.

“Sweetie?” That’s the first time your eye contact is broken. The world freezes for a second before it does, and your head whips to the direction the sound has come from, to find your aunt by the door. Miraculously, she continues to stand there, unbothered by the long and protective distance which compromises of the dining table and the back of your couch, a perfect cover for the scandal that is taking place. Obi Wan stills, perhaps even stops breathing, yet he’s the one to snap you out of your shock with his grip around your skin. It is ridiculously encouraging, knowing he's not abandoning you on your own, even at the expense of getting caught, and the dread it would surely follow.

“Yes, auntie?” You gulp. Trying not to sound breathless is a clear effort.

“Have you seen Lord Kenobi?”

Your reputable smartness lags, the answer of yeah, he’s right here IN BETWEEN MY LEGS, occupying your mind. “I think he went out to get some air, I haven’t seen him for some time.”

“How odd.” She comments, “And what are you doing there on your own?”

“Reading my book.” You smile, and hope your cheeks’ tremble isn’t too noticeable. “It’s quite good- couldn’t tell the time.”

She scorns. “Oh, now I see- he must’ve gotten bored as you were buried in your book. You truly should work on your guest etiquette, dear. And Lord Kenobi, of all people!”

“Auntie!” Your eyes widen, and you squeal a little, and feel Obi Wan giggling quietly.

“I’m just saying, that you should treat him better- he’s a good person, and obviously fancies you.”

“Auntie!”

“I mean, I like him? Don’t you like him?”

The urge the scream has never been stronger.

To escape the subsequent questions should you answer otherwise, you give in, and sag.” I do.” And the worst thing is, you actually do. Objectively, you like him, all his little jokes and sweet tongue (no pun intended), the elegant form he carries himself in, and the kind nature he never fails to live up to. Except for the dangerous extent your relationship is getting into, there’s nothing about him that you don’t like. And truthfully, even that is barely a matter you care about, proven by your current situation.

You can feel him smile, the coarse facial hair biting into your skin, rubbing like a cat, and the sensation is followed by a kiss on your thigh.

“Then you know what I am saying is the truth.” She raises her eyebrows in a motherly manner, a loving attempt of intervention. “Don’t stay up too late, no matter how absorbing that book is. We are invited for breakfast to the Mon’s Estate.”

Thankfully, she’s gone like that, saving you the act.

When you turn to your front again you find the need to come up with a warning to make him shut up unnecessary for he kisses you, silencing both of you. The action brings color to your cheeks more than ever in this entire evening. The fact that you can taste yourself on his tongue aside, he’s so gentle about it, like congratulating your success, or admiring your talent, pouring out his affection for you. You can’t help but wrap your legs around his wide torso, it is how good it feels. When you two part, the lack of breath gets the best of you, only then do the swarming butterflies in your stomach begin to disturb you again.

But you’re not so quick to forget the last couple of minutes. Perhaps you've spoken too soon back then at the lake, thinking this could be continued. You’d imagined the rest of this scene a little differently, letting him follow you to your room, returning the favor, but that scare has only helped you to brew a storm inside you.

“Obi Wan…” You whisper, brows cinched in concentration as he towers over you, claiming all your senses. “We can’t- we have to stop…”

“Sshh, calm down.” His thumb draws circles on your skin, trying to soothe you in one aspect, if not every. He’s not going to let you go to your bed shaken like this, for starters. “Take a deep breath.”

You try, twice before you can manage to fill your lungs in their entirety, and your achievement is rewarded with a peck to your neck. Some of the air leaves you in an abrupt exhale because of it, and he curses himself for it.

“Follow my lead.” He tries again, reclining on his knees, giving you space. It is another challenge to look into his ocean eyes, and match his pattern, but you manage, your heart beat semi-regular after a minute or so.

Semi, for said eyes and your bare pussy are face to face, and all common sense loses its importance, burned by the fire inside you.

“Obi Wan- please…”

“You sure?” He will be very disappointed if you change your mind, but he has to ask, play the sensible part. And ignore the constant throb in his trousers that has become even more unbearable after you confessed your feelings.

“Just… make it quick.” Oh, are you seriously requesting an orgasm like ordering a cake in a café?

“As you wish, love.”

He starts out the same, just playing his game a little faster, and he holds your hand as he does so, the small detail as efficient as his moves. But, the final blow is his other hand, prodding against your entrance. The flood of memories doesn’t help either, as you remember that night. A loud moan threatens to leave you, and you slap your palm against your mouth. He stops ‘til you are secured, praise in his eyes, and pushes the two digits in, stretching you out in the way. Your fingers are nothing in comparison, and he notices it immediately, the way your walls hug him.

Though, he’s an expert, and can absolutely manage to take care of you properly, so there’s nothing but pleasure, your slick channel welcoming the intrusion. It is not long before he feels the resistance fading and returning in a new form, as your climax approaches, and your muscles begin to quiver.

With your noises secured in your throat, the only form of communication is your connected hands, squeezing each other sometimes enough to risk breaking fingers. He understands what you mean perfectly, reaching up to a certain speed, then keeping it the same ‘til you start trashing, legs violently shaking around his body, and juices dripping, this time more than he can clean up. If any other time, he wouldn’t stop ‘til he feasted on every drop of it, but he withholds himself, respecting the clouds of danger. He’s glad to have helped with your anxiety, yet he doesn’t want to carry the ease to dangerous level and make you susceptible to be swayed in whatever direction.

Well, the image of his messy, wet beard certainly sends you through the wrong one, but already your nerves are not able to take more risks tonight, so you just bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, and lower your legs to the ground as he starts by cleaning out his fingers. It is hard to believe any man would try this much to indulge in your every aspect, but here he is, careful about even the smallest part.

Damn, you want to take him to your room and let him have his way with you so bad- but this is enough adventure for a night.

“Good night, Lord Kenobi.” You say, fixing your skirt, and standing up on shaky legs with your book clutched in the tightest grip against your belly.

“Good night, darling.” He nods, a content smile. “Send my compliments to the chef. “

===

“Lord Kenobi?”

You’re justified in your shock, enough to express it out loud in the middle of the jewelry shop, the last place you’d expect to run into him. Of course, he’s a neat and subtle man, and his appearance reflects his statue, though in a very calculated yet effortless manner. His pocketwatch is a family heirloom, so you’ve been told, a chic piece he takes great care of, and while his cufflinks are always elegant, it is never that eye-catching. It only compliments its wearer, you dare say, a final addition to an already completed painting.

(You never denied his handsomeness, and this is an objective opinion. Don’t read much into it.)

His supposed loneliness coupled with the fact that he looks utterly lost and bored, your curiosity is aggravated further.

Also, bumping into each other? What is this, a trick of fate?

“Madame.” He bows, and moves to press a kiss to your hand, the tradition not forgotten. His shock is easily ridden, unlike yours. The small blush on his cheeks and the wide grin on his lips tell contradictory stories, not that you’re judging, but the evident thing is his excitement.

“What are you doing he-”

“What a coincidence-“ His interruption is most unexpected, along with the high pitch in his voice.

You tilt your head, further dazed, but before the suspicion creeps in (you would be terrified to turn your gaze and find women’s accessories laid out for his picking on the table, for somebody else or for you; the latter being the lesser evil, but still disturbing), another joins, though he doesn’t seem to notice you at first.

“How helpful you are being, Obi Wan!” The tall young man with light brown hair calls out, necklaces hanging from both hands. You have a feeling that if he wasn’t busy, there would’ve been a physical reaction as well, a friendly pat on his shoulder, perhaps. “Don’t you know this is important? I need-“

His sentence is broken when he catches your attentive gaze, and realizes you are a part of this conversation as well. You’re amused by how glass-like he is, full of emotions and not afraid to show them. He looks at you, and back to Obi Wan, who finally decides it’s time for an introduction. The expression of recognition flashes through his face in a second as your name is revealed, but you can’t reflect it back fully. You have heard of Kenobi’s best friend or as some call it, brother, although barely from the man himself. You've witnessed how Kenobi's eyes lighten up with pride whenever Skywalker was mentioned, and stories- summaries of their adventures together that he told. The shortness of them wasn't a result of his unwillingness to tell them, but the circumstances of your company, never long or alone enough to visit them in their deserved entirety.

To be honest, Anakin doesn't know much about you either. He and Padme prefer the countryside by the sea, especially during the summer, thus he and Obi Wan hadn't had the means to talk often lately. He senses the situation, by the slight tension in the older man's voice; this strong, confident man crumbling into pieces for some unknown reason.

“Pleased to meet you, my Lady.” He makes a small cursty, which you mirror.

“Likewise, Lord Skywalker.”

“I’m afraid I’ll need my friend back to keep his promise.” The chains in his hands shake as he speaks, reminding the absurdity of it all. You’re not disturbed by it though, for all is concealed under his charismatic voice and mimics. He’s pretty and he knows it, which gives him all the tools to captivate others. Now you understand why people speak about him like that, moved by hearing his name alone.

“Oh, not a problem at all. We were just saying hello.” Entertained by the interaction, your anxiety is somewhat diminished, enough to let him go without an explanation. Also, the way that he rolls his eyes, and clenches his jaw is very cute, you dare say.

“Promise? I never promised anything.” He murmurs, but it is still audible for you as he follows his friend. And the rest, which makes you laugh whenever you remember it. “Anakin- she's your wife, you know her better than me. How exactly do you expect me to help you?”

“You always had a vision when it comes to beautiful things. Not like my eyes, which are only accustomed to the dirt and grease of machinery.”

You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop grinning, while you start talking with the salesman about the bracelet you’ve given them to restore. They make you sit and wait for a couple of minutes, all of which you spend trying to not spy on them. Fortunately, the shop is quite crowded, and their conversation is a part of the low grumble. A cup of tea is placed in front of you, as well as some new pieces they think you might like.

The one that catches your attention is not among them, however. It is a ring with a blue stone, the tone too similar to something you can’t put your finger on. It is too big to be for a woman, clearly designed for the other sex, but you admire its elegance nonetheless.

“Here is your piece, Madame.” The young salesman returns with a package, just in time to stop you from reaching it.

“Thank you.” You take the precious item back into your hands and inspect the handwork. It is shining once again, polished, and the place you accidentally broke it is now attached, the handwork barely visible.

You release a deep breath, praying graces. You would’ve never forgiven yourself if the family heirloom was forever damaged from the incident. You almost cried when it happened, a stupid game you were playing with Carolina before a ball, when you had already gotten ready and she was counting the minutes to her bedtime.

“That is beautiful.” Obi Wan joins you once more, now looking more relaxed. Your eyes search for Anakin and find him waiting for a package, reaching for his wallet. Mission accomplished. “May I?”

The chain slides into his hands, and wraps around your wrist under the watch of the young boy with a wholesome smile. He must think you two are engaged in some way, and there’s no turning back from it.

“Would that be all, Madame?”

“Actaully I-“ You remember about the ring, and even if you just want to unravel the mystery around it, the words have already left your mouth, and the entire tray is placed on the table.

Oh. Oh. With him next to you, suddenly it all makes sense. You’re holding the color of his eyes on your palm.

“That is beautiful too.” He remarks, embracing his role a little too much.

“I think it would suit you.” Now it is your turn to accessorize him. He is silent while you do so, taken aback by the unorthodoxty of it all.

“I’m not sure-“ Is all he manages to say, though can’t stop looking at it. It is ridiculously so well fitted around his finger, the fate pulling all strings to give a message.

“It compliments your eyes.” You defend yourself, perhaps a little too lively but you have no shame. It is the truth.

“The Lady is correct.” The boy joins your side, or does his job. “It is a most excellent match.”

“I might think about it.” Is how far he budges, returning it, and checking up on Anakin from where he’s standing.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, allow me-“

The audacity? The though is reflected in your face, which makes him blush at his unnecessary offer.

“With the ring.” You add, and it is all said and done ‘til he has time to get rid of his embarrassment and intervene.

Then, you make him take the package from you, your fingers wrapping around his. “You’re allowed to have nice things, you know?” There’s not an ounce of sarcasm in your tone, only gentle suggestion. “You don’t have to wear it, but I want you to have it.”

“Thank you.”

And you’re gone before Skywalker can catch up.

===

You truly don’t expect to see him wearing it, you really don’t.

But you’re proven wrong so, so badly.

He doesn’t take it off.

When he takes on his promise, and actually starts working on the ball he’s supposed to throw, the first thing he does is request for your uncle’s help. Then your uncle entrusts the job on you, and you’re spending hours with him like that, securing the musicians, bargaining for the food supplies, preparing invitation lists… Truly, that’s it. You too are surprised to accompany him that much and engage in nothing outside of the mission. Truthfully, a little concerning in the grand scheme of things, the inevitable result of your relationship improving, real sincerity. Although you have zero problems with the fact, enjoying it far too much. You don't care about how your contributions are secret, for your efforts surpass the limits of help that are considered friendly, and fully acknowledge that it is gonna be a damn good ball.

Also, while you hate to see him distressed, it is a look on him that you are guilty of adoring. The nervousness is like a little crack in his shell, a way to see a part of him that rarely sees the daylight. And it is for something so feeble? Only half of his effort would be enough for a wonderful ball, and he still tries to do more, and gets agitated over that? You are cruel for laughing at that, you confess. But it is more of a balancing act, rather than a mock. Somebody's gotta play the sane part, lower the tension.

You're ready to help with that, too.

“Do you think I should hire-”

You're at his study, the place you've been sitting since the morning. Time flies with every cup of tea, and plates of biscuits, but after a while, things inevitably get boring. For you, at least. He's quite focused, brows scrunched, tie slightly loosened. You see him looking at the list that you've put together in the beginning, the possible ways to entertain his guest.

You've already arranged the services of more than half of them. Twice the amount that would be considered enough.

And he's still going over it?

“That's enough!” Your open palm lands on the surface.

Obi Wan doesn't expect your outburst. He doesn't flinch, but his mimics change in an equivalent way. His lips part, causing him to relax that clenched jaw -oh, you might have a point.

“You. Need. To. Relax.” You’re now less frantic, due to his irresistibly clueless expression, though still firm in your cause. Fuck, how can he look at you with those doe eyes and expect you to… do anything!

You get up, and reach for the papers, sending them in a far corner of the desk. While you do so, you are basically halfway in between him and the table. Putting the teacups and the pot back on the tray (it has grown cold a long time ago), you turn to him, almost sitting at the desk in order to fit that narrow space. The bashful smile on his face (as if he wasn’t enjoying the perfect view of your ass seconds before) breaks your heart once more.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, you mirror his emotion. “It’s gonna be a splendid night. The kind that people will talk about it for years. And I’m not exaggerating on that one. I would’ve said the same thing days ago, all before the last additions, too.”

It is a challenge to feel the warmth of your skin, and not lean against it. “You’re right.” He tugs on his collar, taking a deep breath. “But you know- I’ve never planned a ball in my life, and- I just need it to be perfect.”

You giggle, and replace your hand on his cheek that is colored with the confession of his little perfection obsession. You welcome the slight sting of his beard, like a habit, and caress his cheekbone. He dares not move, or even take a breath, only watching your pretty face focused on his, and relish the feeling of your thumb across his features.

“It’s going to be just that.” You might’ve said, or a joke about his troubles, but words scurry off of your mind as you stay like that, squished in place as you try your best to comfort him.

“Can you kiss me?” The thought seems lunatic when uttered on a whim, but it has crossed your mind too, you must admit.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” There's an undeniable urge to use his words back at him.

Your back has to bend in an uncomfortable way for your lips to touch, but you have no complaints about it. The touch is so soft, laden with affection in the purest kind. It is obvious in every way, the movement of your mouths, determined to preserve the sweetness and sweetness alone, and the itch in your palms, mapping each other out over and over again, and the determination of your lungs, using every last drop of oxygen before demanding an exchange.

“T-thank you for that, dear.” His eyes open after a few seconds, with a sheepish smile that causes him to speak in whispers.

It’s about to get real dangerous for you, if he keeps being this cute.

“I’m not about to say we should've done it sooner, for it is a complete waste of our time repeating a truth well known, and I've already used that trick before, but maybe we should do it again.”

Okay, but how does that kind of sass sound cute from your perspective?

“Don't push your luck.” You say, fingers smoothing his hair, and his complaint dies on his throat visibly. He purrs, eyelids closing. That's the moment you decide to press a small peck to his lips for all his troubles. It lasts longer than intended, and while it's definitely different than the previous one, him gripping your waist telling a different story. The weight of them is welcome nonetheless, and it serves as an anchor, like you two could be molded into a statue if he held it long enough.

However, he is the one to break the stillness, shifting in his chair- first of all, how dare he, you're doing the acrobatics here-

Oh.

He notices that you've noticed it. Clearing his throat, Obi Wan lets his hands slide to the table, just a centimeter away from your body. “It’s been some time.” His face remains focused on the floor.

Didn't he even take care of himself?

You push his shoulder back, and he takes it a step further without a blink, sliding away with his chair.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to stay exactly where you are, only this time on your knees. He has to gulp once, then twice, because he finally looks at your face, smiling back at him.

“May I help?” Admittedly, your fluttering gaze was unnecessary, and tips him even more. You don't miss the way he stabilizes his hands.

“By all means.”

You start by unfastening the buttons of his tan trousers, letting your forearms rest on his thighs. He aids your quests by lifting his hips a little, being freed from the constraints of the fabric-

There he is.

You bite your lip at the sight, and the sight is not just his huge cock, already hard and weeping for you. It is about him, and the redness that creeps up his neck, the way he hisses and bites his knuckles at the cool air hitting his sensitive skin, how he claws at the armrest waiting for your touch. His head nearly hits the back of the chair when you finally do, a small moan leaving his exposed throat.

Well. You really should’ve done this sooner.

Your thumb swirls around his head, more fluid leaking out as you do so. Thus your fingers slide down his shaft easily, and he is coated in his slick in no time, along with your palm. It twists around him without rush, leaving him to wander in that dream like state without mentioning a finish line. You want to ask him, ask him how he likes it, or make him cover your hand with his, guiding you, but you also want him to stay just like this, eyes fixed with that heavy lidded gaze, partially obscured by that infamous strand of hair that refuses to be tamed like others. His mouth hangs open with loud breaths and sometimes graces you with sounds of his pleasure.

“Harder.” The only instruction you need.

You clasp tighter and shudder like him, taking pride in your work. He can feel the strain in his muscles fading second by second, the problems in his mind are plucked out one after the other, replaced by your soothing words you repeated constantly for days at this point, and expert hands, creating the same effect on his body.

“Like this, Lord Kenobi?” You require you still acquire his opinion, a feedback, and his title rolls off of your tongue unintentionally. Honestly, there’s no explanation you can make even to yourself, but you are already over it as his cock twitches under your palm, and his groan fills the room.

“Y-yes. You’re doing- so good.”

That must be some sort of karma, for he is above the concept of revenge, but you’re left with an itch to grind your legs together at his praise. If you do that, you’ll probably feel your wetness smearing all over your skin, you’re sure of it.

And you’re determined not to be distracted.

Your other hand joins the game too, starting to massage his balls. That makes him tense under you for a moment, but the tension dissolves quickly, leaving him dizzier.

“Fuck-“ Even the simplest swear word sounds hypnotizing on his lips, “you’re perfect. Don’t stop.”

Like you had any intention to do that.

On the contrary, your intentions evolve in the direction after his words, perhaps even a little bit further. You lean in and lick a stripe up his length, the tip of your tongue dancing around his head, fully tasting him, before you take him to your mouth fully.

His hand flies up, shaking as it comes down, held back by the strongest of wills from delving into your hair. Instead, it inches closer to your cheek, and returns to the position before (because he may have just lost five years of his life feeling the way you swallow him), half-stabilized over the armrest. His head rolls back once more, unashamed to release his moans with your every move. The most sinful one comes out when you use your throat, gagging around his thickness. You repeat it, and he whimpers, earning an equal sound from you too.

This time, you don’t have to ask him anything. The eye contact as you recover your breath, and continue to stroke him tells you everything you need to know, tells how much he enjoys it.

“Please- darling-“

You don’t try to choke on him again, but keep a rhythm with your tongue and your palm. He reaches climax quickly nonetheless, throbbing in your mouth and coating it white. Obi Wan feels sorry for not warning you, a sense of guilt rising alongside that pleasure, but it once again came over with lust as you gulp it down without a blink. He even fears he might go hard in a second, against all the rules of nature. You provoke that in all ways possible, pressing small kisses to his shaft, occasionally licking it, and letting your head rest on his thigh.

“Thank you.” It is so out of place to say that for this kind of act, but it is the sentence that is spoken, breaking the silence.

“You’re welcome, my Lord.” Thankfully, you raise your gaze just in time to miss the way his cock moves. You straighten your back and throw your shoulders back, stretching like you’ve just woken up.

So cute and so filthy.

“I’d like to return the favor.” He says, the action fueled only by his kind and generous soul.

“Some other time.” Your smile reflects the acknowledgment, not mocking his advances. “I am expected from home.”

“Ah, pity. Send my regards to your family.” He can’t help but feel envious of them. Do they know to treasure your company, not take a second of it for granted? Do they know what you did to him, before joining them? Would they be as accepting as ever, aware of your scandalous affairs?

Of course not.

But even then, you’d deserve much better than what they would treat you like. Your courage alone is enough to make the world bow down to you.

And what if your family means something other than your blood, your relatives? What if it was a stranger, a man undeserving, but had you to himself every night, when you returned home from your daily activities? A lucky fool who had the blessing of knowing you’d be by his side soon, every damn day.

His fingers turn into fists as you clean yourself up, so pretty in your ignorance to his gaze, brows slightly furrowed as you smooth out the wrinkles on your dress.

“Shall do.” And with your cheery voice, he doesn’t even notice his grip is unclenched.

===

Red isn’t his color. Some say it suits him well, that the stark contrast is eye-catching, but he doesn’t like to carry it. At this point of his life, it’s not even about his clothing choices, he prefers anything over that pigment in every possible scenario; the sheets, the carpets, the flowers… He makes a point of avoiding that powerful color.

Not today, though.

He has no word over how you dress and for once, tries very hard to stay neutral, not verbalize his choices when you mention the outfit you’ll be wearing in his ball, and it is a successful endeavor. (Knowing you and your stubbornness, it would probably only damage the bond between the two of you, something you’ll quip for years, or God forbid, keep you from attending at all.)

In the end, you wear it, and he ends up where he doesn’t want to be. Drowning in that bloody cloud. Without remorse, for the first time in his life.

For once, he finds himself chasing after it, taking joy in its liveliness, surrendering to the dangerous promises it makes. Your presence brings energy to every room you enter. The candles seem to burn brighter, and the warmth in his chest is not solely a result of both of your accomplishment of the spectacle. Obi Wan smiles ear to ear, eyes almost closed because of it, and he wants nothing more than to dance with you all night long, bury his hands in that expensive fabric and feel the burn in your cheeks, painted with the same color. He doesn’t even mean it in a perverse way. He wants to celebrate the payoff of your efforts, let the pride be felt, and enjoy the treats like all the guests, or even more than them (it would be more than fair to do so), together.

Alas, the society you both live in isn’t the type to accept such things. In order to not taint the event with the bitterness reserved for that principle, he doesn’t ask for more than six dances, or follow you around the saloon like a lost puppy. While it is never enough, he counts and cherishes the accidental eye contacts, and your hands holding his in dances, or the different circles you ran into each other and have snippets of various conversations. He accepts every compliment with your name tied behind his tongue and feels relieved with each passing hour, realizing how perfect everything is going, thanks to your pieces of advice and restrictions. He is light as a feather underneath all those layers he had to put on for the evening, without the pressing intention of taking it all off as soon as possible.

But, there are two sides to every coin, and here comes the other side, halfway through the night, the prejudice he had returning sinisterly.

He does a decent job of suppressing his jealousy, for all the purposes he’s thought of before. He can glance over when you dance with a stranger, or two, ricocheting on the stage and putting on a show for everyone. He chooses to admire the beauty you’re radiating, shining like a rose after the rain. It keeps him occupied for a while. But when an hour passes and you’re not even looking at his general direction, way too engulfed in your conversation with them, he feels a distaste rising in him. The red bleeds into his heart, poisoning him. It slowly takes over, and by the time you throw your head back with a burst of laughter that echoes in the room, he’s entirely filled with it. His hands twitch with every dream of ripping the source of that poison from your skin in a cove meant for just the two of you, away from all the vultures that eat and drink and savor his doings and yet ready to crucify him at his slightest flaw.

Obi Wan is one step away from sending everyone to their homes when you escort that man to the garden. Honestly, the only reason he doesn’t is because you return in a minute or two, the tip of your nose giving away all he needs to know- it’s chilly.

And he didn’t even give you his jacket?

On the second thought, it’s best that he didn’t, because then Obi Wan wouldn’t even bother to get rid of the crowd to have his way with him.

“Lord Kenobi.” You manage to catch him alone, on the balcony. He’s up there to calm his nerves, over you, unbeknownst to you. Unfortunately, his progress is lost the second he hears your voice, and it is truly an effort to act otherwise.

The night is on the brink of ruin for him, and it doesn’t have to be that way for you. This is why he tries so hard.

“I must congratulate you on this beautiful ball. It is a night to remember.”

“Don't say it like the honor doesn't belong to us both.”

You shrug, as if whisking all the credit away. But your eyes twinkle with pride.

“I haven't had this much fun in ages,” You chirp, “I would've begged for another one already, if I hadn't witnessed the toll it took on you.” He covers his face at the mention of the state he has been in for the last couple of weeks. “Oh God, don't.”

“Oh God, you just didn't expose yourself like that! When will you start enjoying this?” Your laugh is a hidden giveaway of how many glasses you had tonight. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed for those who may inquire.” Your lips. Wrapped around his cock. Mapping out his neck. Keeping his secrets. “Remember that every word that comes out of my mouth is said by a person who attended all types of feasts all over the continent for a decade now. I grew up around these circles.” Shrugging, you add. “Perhaps that was my undoing.”

“Undoing? I could never call you “undone”.” Ironic, how you make him forget about before and continue to concern him with totally different subjects.

“You’re right.” Thoughts come out a little slow, but your effort is evident on your face. “I just had too many opportunities to start over in new places, experience everything that I was curious about, and that all led me to discover exactly what I liked, what I wanted from life.”

“How’s that a bad thing?”

“I’m not willing to let that go anytime soon.” You can’t help but notice that it sounds like some sort of prison of your will, but that’s not a discussion you can have tonight. “Anyways, Obi Wan. I must be going now, just wanted to pay my compliments and wish you good night.”

“I thought you’d stay the night-“Well, that’s definitely not the case, “But it is so early?”

“You know our houses are not so close, any later than this and I’m going to fall asleep on the road out of habit.”

Yeah, that’s why he thought it would be perfectly reasonable for you to stay over.

“I see.” And he wishes he had gone blind and deaf. “Then, allow me to bid you good night, my Lady.”

He takes your hand, placing a kiss you can very much feel despite the fabric. What he doesn’t expect, is for you to press your palm against his chest in return, because he doesn’t know of the urge you have to not leave. It is a split second of override, before you can command your feet to move again, blissfully unaware how tender that moment was.

===

A day. A full day. That’s how long he can refrain from seeing you. Funny, the meetings have become a habit for him, and although he needed you back then, he needs you more now, for completely different reasons, and you’re not there that morning- and why would you be? There’s no arrangement that demands your assistance anymore. Your praises are all said and done, and if to be repeated, it wouldn’t certainly be a matter that required urgency for you to show up at his door.

And maybe, you have other places to be, other doors to knock. Perhaps you’d enjoy a change of air.

So, he has come to yours.

Naboo. Aldreaan. Correlia. The cities churn in his mind, alongside your image in every one of them. The flowers in your hand as you roam the fields of Naboo, the coat that doesn’t do much for the redness on the tip of your nose while you lodge in the mountains of Alderaan. The exquisite jewelry you wear to a Correlian masquerade, outshining every debutante in the room. He imagines the people hypnotized by your presence (what can they be, other than blessed), or you gliding among them (after all, discretion was your powerful suit). And the worst of all, he thinks of the man escorting you, claiming their dances, bringing you a glass of their rare wines, walking with you in the natural scene, their savage arms around you, their hands groping your curves, pulling sweet sounds from you.

(No, the purpose of his visit was not that. )

He invites himself in from your open balcony, catching you as you start your nightly routine. You’re taking off your hairpins, when he does the courtesy of knocking on the glass, startling you just a little. You jump, but thankfully do not scream, the reflex somehow suppressed. Truth be told, it’s not because your shock actually dwindles. If anything, it is redirected into a different question, going from “What the fuck was that?” to “Why the fuck is he here?”

“Good night, darling.” He gestures for you to sit again, and you do, returning to your chair in front of the vanity. Your head has to crane in a strange way for you to see him, but thankfully, he comes closer and solves the problem, eyes meeting through the mirror. And his face lights up as he sets foot in the room, like he too has forgotten everything but this moment, his jealousy and desperation left behind the walls. That’s how the question of “What are you doing here?” is not immediately articulated.

Instead, you say, “Good night, Obi Wan.”

“I see I managed to visit you just in time.” Look at him, fixing his beard, laughing nervously. He just climbed to the second floor, and his heart only got racing now.

“Lucky you.” Honestly, you don't think there's a “wrong time” in his perspective, at least when it comes to you. A few minutes later, and he'd see you in your nightgown. Would that deter him from setting his foot in here? Most, most, most likely, no. Don't dwell on that thought, though. “And what do I owe the pleasure?” You try not to focus too much on the fact that you have him and your bed in the same frame, through the reflection.

“I thought I would see you today.” Is that sarcasm in his tone, or a little bit of self-humiliation?

This must be some sort of a Shakespeare play, right?

Oh my God, it is.

“Ah.” You fiddle with your hairbrush, the eye contact broken, your attempt to stop any matter from escalating this night. Any matter. Not that you had any questions when it came to his morals, he probably was the one person you’d never doubt, but in terms of his intentions to be here tonight startled you in a much different light. “I slept in late today. Didn’t even leave the house.”

Oh. That makes quite the sense.

“Actually I still feel a little bit exhausted.”

“That’s because you had too much fun without me last night.” A treacherous scoff falls from his lips as he shakes his head. The moment that the tides turn. The one that brings back all the crude questions.

“What? No? What do you mean?” For all your effort to remain calm, you look alarmed, that tired face with doe eyes showing it all, and he feels sorry for a second, troubling you over his overthinking ass.

Then, he spots the bracelet you wore last night, lying haphazardly over a piece of paper on the corner of the table. It looks very much like a letter.

It’s not hard for him to advance his speculations.

“I think you know it already.”

“Obi Wan.” You twist to actually face him, your arm on the back of the chair. “Why are you here?”

He takes a few steps back, as if the air is stolen from the short distance between the two of you. He runs a hand through his hair, undisturbed by its messy result. You can see him biting into his cheeks, trying to select the right words. In the end, all that effort seems unnecessary, because when he speaks, the sentence can’t be any simpler. “Who was the man you spent an hour with last night?”

Wincing, you take a few seconds to process. It’s not about the answer, but his motive, his audacity that irks you. You stand up and speak. This time, your voice is sharp as ice. “That’s none of your business.”

He blinks a few times, so sure of his righteousness, and determined. “You were in my house, at our ball, dancing and talking with strangers and not even glancing in my direction for the better half of the night. I think it’s some of my business.”

“I was by your side for much longer than it is acceptable, Kenobi, do I need to remind you? We danced six times and greeted the majority of guests together.” You’ll not let the truth be ignored. “Any longer than that and there would be rumors all over the society today, and even I would’ve heard about it despite staying here all day. I didn’t come this much by pushing boundaries at every fucking chance I get. I picked my battles, the thing you seem incapable of.”

“So, am I to understand, this thing between us,” The look on his face dares you to deny the existence of it, “is not worth picking?”

This is the possibility that scared you. And for good reason, it seems. You close your eyes, in order to not roll them, and purse your lips. He uses the moment to reach for your arms, like he could appeal for an answer from you. “Don’t you love what we have?”

You couldn’t feel any worse under the warmth of his hands, affection pouring out of them despite the rage in him. “I love what we had.”

“Had?”

“It’s obvious that we can’t keep doing this, is it not?”

Confusion leaves its place to anger once more, for all the wrong reasons and his face darkens. “Oh, I see. You secured yourself a new entertainment, and now you have to get rid of the old one.”

You shrug out of his hold, distancing yourself from him. The source of the problem is not what he claims it to be, and it infuriates you, along with the accusations he taints you with. “Don't you dare reflect your own degeneration on me like that! It’s not about my damn cousin’s damn friend, it’s about you!” It is nearly a scream, the highest pitch that wouldn’t grab attention. Still, reflectively, you turn your head to the door, which you had luckily locked. “Leave now, you bastard!”

Honoring the part he was assigned in that theatre play, he focuses on the wrong part of the words, the crumbles of information giving him hope, and dim his doubts. “So there's nothing between you and him?”

Seething, you are red with fury, taking a sharp breath, pointing your finger at him like a gun. “Get. Out.”

“Is there?”

Your tongue is determined not to let him hear your words, despite the truth in them. It will not lead to any good.

But so will his closeness.

When did he get so close?

The moment you look into his ocean eyes, the decision to say anything is deemed impossible. The decision to do anything, actually. His arms cage you against the cluttered table, and yours end up on his chest, though without any intention of pushing him away.

“Answer my question, and I will.”

How could you? How can you be able to resist his utmost sincerity, the desperation in his behaviors and the brutality of his words contrasted in the way he looks at you, the caging without actually touching you. Your suffocation is only a result of your inner turmoil, the desire to spit out the truths, clear his heart and give in to the love he's handing out, but terrified of the places it will take the two of you.

“I’m waiting, darling.” You can’t help but watch his perfect lips move, his voice licking your skin.

You gulp, an action he doesn’t miss, and dares to laugh at it. Obi Wan can see the exact moment your gaze returns to being that of an eris, though the flames remind him of a different time.

A very different time.

“I hate you.” It is perhaps the most childish thing you’ve ever said in years, and it shows.

So, that’s his cue to kiss you.

For all your claims, still, he doesn’t miss the small moan you let out, swallowing it with pride. Your soft lips move against his like a habit, anticipating every move and the next, a choreography you both know all too well albeit in a much swifter tempo. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer but his stay in the same spot, afraid to disturb you, though gripping the edges hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Though, when he tugs at your bottom lip, asking for more, you grant him that, your tongues joining the dance. You whimper, the action triggering your inhibitions to loosen up, like each second wipes the doubts away. It is a sugared water, only serving to increase the thirst instead of quenching it. So you don't stop drinking it.

Not til you absolutely have to.

“No, you don’t.”

Two seconds have to pass for you to understand his response. With his breath still warming your cheeks, even brushing them with his nose, yes he dares now, the statement is the undeniable truth.

However, not that you're ready to admit it. He already knows too much, all the things you like, all your weak spots, all of your soul.

“Yes, I- oh” And he's not the one to endure your lies. His fingers delve into your scalp, putting traction into your hair ‘til you have to tilt your head back to release the tension, forcing you to look at him through your lashes. Still, eye contact is not what he seeks, for he has as much a chance of getting lost in it as you. He uses the expanse of skin you offer, and dives in for that specific spot that has your legs going limp. It has two consequences: Firstly, you are stuck between him and the table, the latter supporting you too little that the weight rests almost entirely on his body, every plane of him touching yours. Secondly, the angle puts the mirror in the corner of your sight, and you have a maddening view of what’s happening. It is enough to make old ladies screech and faint, and artists to slave to immortalize the scene.

“You’re a bastard.” You murmur the last bit of objection, solely for the object of throwing it out of the tip of your tongue. He hears, though quite unbothered, the retort to break you further leaves his mouth readily.

“Call me whatever you want, dear, you’re the one begging for it.”

Of course, you only pant in return. Even when he threatens to nip and bite at the sensitive nerves, you don’t stop him. Furthermore, your calf twists around his as much as it is able in that impossible posture. An invitation.

“And what else would you let me do to you? Would you let me take you to your bed?”

You nod, frantically. “Yes, please Obi Wan- take me”

That’s a sentence straight out of his dreams.

The second your feet touch the ground, both of you gather the ends of your dress, yanking it out to throw it haphazardly on the floor. Your stays and chemise follow the same fate, then it is his jacket and shirt. He taps on your thigh, like he would let you walk the five meter distance between there and the bed, you jump, a little shakily (not that you ever had questions about his strength). Fuck, it excites you how easily and softly he lands you on the edge of it. You reach for his trousers, but he stops you and urges for you to scoot back, and lay down.

Because that’s the best way he can rid you of your shoes and stockings.

Your knees stick together as he works on one foot, and the other. The shoes drop with a loud thud, making you bite your lip, close your eyes for a moment and pray nobody investigates. It’s no wonder that after that small break, your pupils meet once more. How ironic that it is the cause of your concern, and the only solution.

You can feel his fingertips skimming the top of the only clothing left on you. While the touch is stimulating enough, it is the fact that you have to spread your legs a little to allow him to undress you, giving him a view of your wet pussy.

Nothing that he hasn’t seen before, but that doesn’t affect the way you tremble.

Throwing your head back, you let him slide the stretchy fabric down. Slowly. Like his piercing gaze isn’t enough. You’re squirming by the end of it, all thoughts of getting him out of his outfit gone (-or delayed, should you still believe yourself.)

Thankfully, he takes care of it, the sounds of his buttons unfastened echo in the room.

Though he has no rush to join you.

You turn your face to search for what's taking him so long, a whine in your throat when he kneels. That's unlike him.

You feel cold without his body looming over yours. And he has a hard time not to do that, not falling for the flush of red and your hard nipples. Especially when you're so gone that you may come undone just from that.

He'd like to see that.

But he has to make you understand how you keep him in that state, ignorant of his troubles, even as the solution is obvious and wanted by both sides, however the other can't accept it out of simple stubbornness.

Thus, he plays the deaf now, as he grips the supple flesh of your thighs, squeeze and move as he pleases, exposing your core to air while he busies himself with other parts. He claims you with his lips, mapping out, pushing you down to the mattress every time you jolt because he’s so close just a little to the left- But perhaps the worst is his vulgar taunts, whispered, to himself mostly, a way to speak out the anger.

“Are you this wet for all the men you hate?”

“No.” You cry, not able to stand the accusations. “It’s you.” And it is the truth. There are no other men on the planet that you would bear being treated like this by, or attempt to change their opinion of you. But now, you need him to know that. You can’t imagine a future with his back always turned to you, or be subject to his very much forced small talk with empty, or worse, hatred filled eyes. It is a reveal of a side of you that you had to keep hidden and downplay, to be free at the end of the day, give both of you an opportunity to walk out, but it doesn’t matter if the said fallout leaves his judgment of you sour. You care about his perception, and would do your best to change it should it be mixed with lies. Truth, and nothing less, is what he deserves.

A wave of relief floods his heart, that simple answer is all he wishes to hear. There’s also a bit of rage, for knowing you’d never admit it in any other circumstance. Alas, the smile appearing on his face is unstoppable. Even as he finally begins to eat you out.

A moan leaves your mouth at the first contact, which is nothing more than a small kiss. That bad, uh? As he licks everything he can reach, it turns into a whine, because it is evident he has no concern about making you cum quickly, or in a normal amount of time. He just continues to do whatever he was doing before, exploring every nook and cranny, and marking, like he intends to commit this moment to his memory. It may not have been his first time, (or the second), but he’s doing it for himself now, your desperation sadly not a priority. You also suspect he’s doing it to drive you mad, using his previous experience and remembering how sensitive you got when his beard rubbed against your skin.

“Obi Wan-“ Your back arches, a hand reaching for his hair. He stops it all by jostling your legs with a hold that could leave imprints. It takes half of your willpower to stay in the place he put you in, and that means you only have the other half to process the indescribable pleasure he’s giving. It is gonna be fast, whether he plans it or not.

“Could you actually throw this away? How can you pick anything else over this?” You knew it would be a hard transition. The magic he created is haunting and ready to jump on you in those dark corners, even after many years. There is no cure for ghosts, after all. The thought now seems impossible, the last thing that could cross your mind. Simply impossible. He emphasizes by nudging your clit, every single movement forcing a sound out of you. “That's right. I’m going to remind you how good we are together, make you feel so good that you'll forget anything but us.”

The passion in his words scares you, but it would be a lie to say they don't excite you in some way, making your heart flutter in your chest at his devotion and to be able to still feel safe only supported by the honest bond you two have. You chant his name as he smothers himself in your folds, sucking and flicking your raw bundle of nerves. He loves to feel you twitch when you are overwhelmed, but not enough to climax.

Then, he scrapes your clit with his teeth, and you're gushing, head thrown back, a silent scream in your mouth. The hot lava inside you doesn't cool down, paying its visit to every part of you, making stars explode behind your eyes and body trash against the sheets. To be perfectly honest, he didn't expect this much either, his strong muscles tightened to keep you from closing your legs, a string of curses muttered at the obscenity of it all. As always, your bliss only augments his own, especially at the sight of your essence flowing out of you. He has to drink it all in. Thus, he doesn’t stop, unbothered by the subtle sway of your hips, or the slight tug at his strands. He has no objection to them, on the contrary, he would encourage them if he didn't have to abandon his task to say the words. The slow movements of his tongue create constant stimulation in your already delicate nerves. Your second orgasm crashes you like a clap of thunder, leaves you sobbing and shaking. It uses all the energy in your already spent muscles, wipes every argument from your mind and removes those troubling emotions from your soul. The interesting thing, is that you have no oppositions to the matter. Why would there be? Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Isn’t it better than a dream? You speak the truths, and he worships you. You pay him the respect he deserves, and he tries to honor it in every chance. You don't complete his personality, you enhance it, and in return, he uses everything in his power to make your day better.

It is not that simple, a voice speaks from the back of your head, but it's too silent to have an importance.

Likewise, some of his ideas are dismayed just as easily. Pity. He had every intention of taking you from behind, not letting you get away before painting your ass red, and watch you crawl back to him still even when he teased you that badly, but you seem too gone, too weak to lift your hips up. And it is not a big deal anymore, because he's equally excited to have you like this, lying on your back, legs hugging his torso. Like your first time. The parallel is unintentional, but more than welcomed. How much and how little has changed since then? He leans in for a kiss, and fuck, your mouth is greets him too purely, like he's not covered in your slick. There's something more than lust that drives you, evident in the way you move, like you’re carving out a promise on his lips. The sounds that you produce are not in desperation, but gratitude, not weary of the periods of suspense but glad that it is over. His fingers travel the length of your abdomen, all blame on him for the coldness of your skin and the way you shiver. When he circles your nipples with his thumb, you sigh, and press yourself to him.

“You take care of me like no other, Obi Wan.” You whisper as you cup his cheek. You should’ve told him sooner. It was the least you could do.

He has no answer, and he doesn’t need one. Holding your wrist at the sides of your head angrily and meeting with your tongue is more than enough of an explanation, just like the one you made a little too late, beautiful controversies. You both are unaware of how your hips rub against each other, without hurry, ‘til his cock catches your entrance. Your breathing becomes erratic, considering you didn’t get a prep or had any in some while, and he’s big.

“Are you gonna let me in, sweetheart?”

“I need you.” You almost wail, despite knowing it will be too much. It’s not about pleasing him, either, for these things are not given up as sacrifices, ever. What matters is that you’re together, and that is always good. “Please, I want you.”

Could he ever refuse?

He takes his time, relishing the surrender of your tight walls, and brave noises, replied with his own moans. Your pants are guiding as much as they are troubling, making him even harder. He swears he’s about to burst when you outright sob while he brushes your areolas. Your back raises, an attempt to get his fingers a little higher, and your eyelids flutter close with the movement.

Make no mistake, your face scrunched up in delight is a sight to behold, but he can’t compromise having your eyes closed, sparing him from that glossy, burning gaze you have when he tears you apart. He needs to see them lose all coherent thought, see those doubts fly away and light up with pleasure.

“Look at me, dearest.” Right, aren’t you more than acquainted with his most important wish? He pleads, the softest tone that spilled from his lips tonight. Your heart skips a beat although you’re not exactly capable of processing that information. Needless to say, you don’t oblige to his wish, not when you are so spent.

Obi Wan groans, his hand flying up to turn your chin. At that moment, all fall silent. You get lost in his stormy eyes, and so does he. Though his cock twitches in your quivering channel, that’s not the point.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He blurts. Then, the other truths demand to be told too. “I don't like the way they look at you. I don't like how they don't know how blessed they are by your presence. Shit, I hate it when they know it too. I hate to think those who got to memorize you this closely, even those you knew before me.”

Even those you knew before me. “Obi Wan, you're-”

“Crazy? I'll admit, I am crazy when it comes to you.”

“I never-” You have to drown a whimper as he continues his deep, slow strokes, “asked for any of it.”

“Of course, dear. I know, I know it's not you, but them. But I can hardly stop myself from reaching out and pulling you out from their sigh. Or wrap my hands around you, let them see what we share. They wouldn't dare anymore, if they knew the lines you left on my back.” It takes an incredible amount of will not to thrust into you faster, with where his ideas lead him to. “Would you let me mark you from the inside?”

Fuck, why does his words make their way into your heart without ringing those alarm bells you have ready at all times? How does he move past them so easily?

Or do you let him, and take those rings as a cheery tune of his nearing presence, and not a warning as they must be?

“Yes!” The feeling of him finishing anywhere but in you suddenly sounds so disgusting. You want his warmth, even though you're burning already.

His lips find yours, kissing you so hard that you'd thought he wanted to silence you. But surely, you know better, that's definitely not the case. You get to drink his sweet moans as his hands envelope you further (like it's possible). In return, he's right there to swallow your gasps, the proof of how you push yourself for him. The rest of the world stops, the urge to fill your lungs no longer necessary, nothing but the rhythm you've created, and clouds you've climbed on.

He senses your peak before you do and gives you a brief space to breathe, praises falling from his lips that you can't hear, as you shake and let out whimpers, quite loud, for you've grown used to him muffling them. He follows suit, not able to resist your walls clamping down on him, painting your insides with a heavenly moan.

It takes a second for both of your bearings to return, for the night to evolve into a chilly summer night it was simply meant to be. The coldness is especially remarkable as sweat cools down. A towel wipes them rather quickly, but it's never as warm as having the other around. Your usual remedy, a nightgown, is no use either, even if he helps you put it on. It is such a whiplash that makes you question everything about the last hour. You're left with burning cheeks as he collects your clothes from the floor, hanging them on the divider, then his- but he does the same to them?

“What are you doing?” You croak, a minute of silence for your vocal cords. “I don't cuddle.” That's a harsh sentence, but it's the truth.

“And I don't leave the person I love in the middle of the night to freeze.” He's holding a candle, the only lit candle in the room, and his face is illuminated beyond anything else and it could be said that he is the source of light.

The person I love. His words break down the last resolve you have, and you're left to figure out how you feel about it as he kills the flame, and slides into the sheets behind you. You'd think the sensation of his chest pressed to your back would keep you wide awake, but no, it's weirdly new yet familiar, enough to lull to sleep. Also, his scent is mesmerizing, and you never had it this close and constant.

And for him, he had no trouble whatsoever from the start, but this is far better than expected, that he is sure he is living the best moment of his fate. The softness of you, in his arms, drifting into heavy dreams. It is a treasure for him to see that you can relax beside him, allow him to feel the regularity of breaths, showing your most natural self.

But the morning is anything like the night.

You wake up from the orange lights of the rising sun, when he gently combs your hair out of your face. There's a fatigue in your muscles, alongside that sweet tinge of pleasure still lingering, making it all bearable. Your skin runs hot where he holds you, your back, your waist, your intertwined legs… The slight prickle of his beard is not pronounced when it's rolling on your shoulder, especially as it's followed by small pecks. He's unable to resist, your intoxicating smell pronounced in the cove of your neck, right under his nose. Only when he feels somewhat satisfied, and you seem a little more conscious, the tonus of your body increasing, he talks.

You weren't ready for his morning voice.

“Good morning, love.” His hand rises to soothe the redness rising where his chin was pressed. Delicate all over. “I’m afraid I must get going, for both of us’ sake.”

You give an affirming hum, and swiftly roll out. Your body betrays you without delay, a shiver seizing you, protesting the lack of his heat. You shake your shoulders, not so subtly but it's not like you can cringe. It is your band aid, and you're ripping it out.

You reach for a robe and put it on rather easily for your questionable nerves and state of mind.

“Darling?”

“Yes, you should really get going, Obi Wan.” Fuck, that sounds still more aggressive than you are, or you ever intended, a mirror of the storms in your mind.

“What's the matter?” He's awfully quick to put on his trousers and come near you once again. He looks into your eyes, unobscured by your hair, and then there's that look of reveal on his face, the point of no return. He says your name, a final plead and a warning.

“You must leave soon.” This time, you’re a little softer, but it is nowhere near normal, considering what you shared.

“You think last night was a mistake.” He’s never sounded colder, and you have to focus not to bite your lip. The stern expression on his face is unbecoming of him, but it’s also a great reflection of his fidelity. Now, the other side of the coin shows itself, with his icy eyes and clenched jaw.

“I never-“ said that. Though, is there any possibility of you explaining what you feel? The doubts, the unfamiliarity of these feelings. Could you say, I’m not sure about this thing in between us, without creating the same effect of his claimed words?

There’s a second of silence, as he’s giving you one last chance to speak up. You know, you know that the moment you try, he’s going to break that heartless look, and put his loving hand out.

“For someone who thinks it was a mistake, you don't seem regretful at all.”

“Because it's not, and I don’t!” The confession is for him, but it is hard on you. But that doesn’t mean you’re willing to repeat it. “But it can become one. This has to stop. We can’t go further than this.”

“Why?” He’s trying his best not to raise his voice in this quiet, quiet hour.

“Because this is just- just an infatuation. It will go away. And to remember this time as a good one, we have to be careful, and we’re starting to lose that sense.”

An infatuation. That is the strangest insult he’s ever heard, but the worst nonetheless. An infatuation. The more he repeats the word in his mind, the more his anger grows, with a goal to show you otherwise.

“This is not what happened last night, and you know it.” He was as clear as day, and you honored that likewise. There was no lie. “If this is about you getting pregnant, I swear -”

“No, that's not it.” For once, you show something about the bond you have. “I have no concerns about you, or the whole society, should that happen. I’d even happily move away somewhere nobody knows my name and raise them.”

Why is that option uttered, when there are far easier choices to make? “You’d rather build a new life than marry me?”

You remain silent once more, owning the coward you are. This is exactly why this wouldn’t work, anyways. He shakes his head, catching himself still thinking of ways to convince you, to work through the problem. He even thinks of walking out of the main door, and running into your father's study, forcing your hand in marriage.

You can see that thought play in his head as his gaze becomes fixated on the door.

"See. That's why.” You beg. “This is just an obsession, and you are maddened with it. You can't see reason, or listen to the sound of it, and I can't watch you make decisions like this. Is this how you actually want to treat me? Blackmail your way into marrying me?”

“So, this is what you think of me.” Blackmail.

“No, Obi Wan, are you even listening to me?” You cover your face with your hands, a moment to recollect yourself. “Do you know when my next trip is scheduled?”

Oh. You and your infamous life on the roads.

“In three days. And do you know I already postponed it once?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we have very different lifestyles, and they are not compatible.”

“Or maybe, you are running from something so long that it has become a habit.”

“I do it because I like it. Because I promised people that I would see them before the end of autumn.” The latter part of your answer is not in your favor, but his, a product of overthinking. You discover that a little too late. He sees it too, along with the fragile curl of your lips, but doesn’t use it against you. Not anymore.

“I wish you a safe trip, then.” That’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to regret your preferences, as he takes a step back, and dresses himself in a blink with perfection. It causes you to feel vulnerable, like his stoic face and impeccable outfit which somehow looks even more put together than yesterday, when he was helped to put it on, paints him like a statue of a Greek god who is putting you on trial.

A trial that you fail.

Yet, by not punishing you, he gives you the worst sentence: Incarceration with your conscience.

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