SYNOPSIS; Weeks upon weeks of research led you to meet what you thought was the devil himself. But when you find that the devil has blonde hair and smokes weed, you might have let your security systems down... just a little bit.
TW; cussing, violence, murder, disgusting description of a corpse, god complex, WIREPLAY/IMPROPER USE OF WIRES, DACRYPHILIA, cunnilingus, porn, pornsites, degradation, praise, MOMMY KINK, vibrator is used, hentai, voyeurism, severe invasion of privacy, hair pulling/grabbing, p in v, taunting
WORD COUNT; 9,214 words
You’ve been at this for weeks.
Type. Enter. Search. Click. Read.
Your mantra.
BEN was— a tragedy. A digital manifestation materializing from the irrational fear of his existence, a counterpart of a little boy that drowned in his father’s back yard years ago. His form finally took itself in full from the infamous legends that are littered in the dark, strange corners of the internet, earning him a reputation nothing short of terrifying.
It didn’t take long for people to start linking his legend to real-life casualties. Humans being humans, this wasn’t so new. But the charm of reading their full-breakdown analyses to all this captivates you. It was fun reading on people finding near-coincidences of BEN’s evidence and presence using only surface-level details you can usually find in articles online. Murders, missing persons, traces that may or may not be planted evidence– people always find something. But never everything.
Speaking of articles, you’re pretty sure you’ve scoured through each and every source you can put your sneaky paws under. Story Summaries on youtube, ARG Analyses, Academic Research (surprisingly), underground Wikis on gaming and horror culture articles, Wikis on character and mythology, and finally, video essays and documentaries.
You’ve scrolled through forums. Fanfiction. Theories. You’ve even played one of the games itself.
You were captured. And you had no intention to stop.
It wasn’t the tragic story that hooked you— you weren’t a sadist. It was just how, if his story ever was real, dangerous for people to poke and prod at is what is literally his home. You’ve seen forums of people trying to find the cartridge he so very makes his realm, entering dark-web chatrooms only for them to get a virus or receive a picture of someone gutted out on hardwood floor.
They tried giving themselves the viruses. Downloading stupid, foreign apps just to never be able to open their phone again.
It isn’t all that bad. Not all people were stupid.
Geniuses, top-notch IT students, professional tech-savvs, they were the ones that inched the closest to communication with the ghost. Cracking open the code of the Majora’s Mask duplicate cartridge (very nicely and intricate duplicate, mind you), rewiring pathways, adding commands and clauses and if-and-what statements, eliminating error after error after error—
To find nothing.
For one of them, it’s a dead end. For another, an irrefutable error that even 20 goddamn years of experience can’t seem to break. Some tried to fight fire with fire: make a virus of your own, release it, watch it eat away, then watch it disappear with little to no explanation.
So close. So close.
If you were asked where you lie in between the idiots and the genius, you’d say you won’t fit anywhere. You’d say you were just— just here.
Watching everything play out and always getting thirsty for whatever new info comes out of somewhere, anywhere.
Today was no different: type, scroll, type, scroll, click, scroll.
Then a notif pops up: New Article— Another One of the Missing Found Dead
Click.
Famous Documentarian Drowned Near Lake. Body Found Hung in a Tree
Fuuuucking hell.
You remember watching this guy on YouTube– one of the geniuses who manage to crack at least a few codes in BEN’s story– in fact, you even communicated with him in a Discord server and he was able to supply you several underground virus-free sources for you to dabble on. You immediately make another tab to open a forum you knew the article already made it to. Scrolling, your eyes furiously scour each and every post: nothing.
Fucking nothing?
You refresh. Scroll again. Nothing again.
Maybe you were too excited. People need to grieve, for fuck’s sake.
Slumping your way back to the article tab, you open the site to read a proper look of the crime scene:
A body– no less than the documentarian’s, hung gruesomely in the tree sitting next to a blue-green-hazed lake. There weren’t any visible wounds. Just gray skin and purple fingernails.
You scroll down some more.
Good fucking–
His face. His fucking face. Twisted in terror, his mouth hung open like hell was opening its door right inside. Clean teeth, but infested by maggots and fly eggs. His eyes were still there– but foggy and dead and empty.
You couldn’t look at it anymore. You closed the tab.
3:14 PM
You tried to forget it. Took a nap. Wearily ate lunch.
And now you’re here, back on your desk again, snug in your chair while you scroll through forums. An active server was open for debates.
You smile and cozy up even more. You watch as the debate flurries into message by message, evidence by evidence, link by link. You smile even more when things started to get heated, insults and roasts thrown here and there, unrelated GIFs by digital passersby being spammed then kicked out of the group, nifty reaction emojis popping up under the chat bubbles.
Your notes app suddenly bounces to life on the screen in front of you. No title. No context. No random memo inside. Just a blinking cursor.
“What the fuck?”
You drag your pointer to the X button and click it closed, only for it to open up again.
“What the fuuuck?”
The cursor blinks at you, one, two, three, four, five times, then— letter by letter, the cursor inches itself more to the right as the words present themselves to you:
You’re persistent.
“What?” you mutter, posture immediately erect and alarmed, immediately going through your app settings window to see if you had anything open. The notes app overrides your request by placing itself on top of your app settings window.
Most people stop when they’ve already played the game and found nothing.
A pause.
Why didn’t you?
Your own breath was choking you. You’ve installed at least five anti-viruses– how could this happen?
who are you
Someone you know, the cursor revealed. someone you know very, very well.
You found yourself typing back before you even knew it.
im talking to myself then
haha
Silence. You calm down a bit more— but even you don’t have an idea why.
You always this reckless?
only on tuesdays
Another pause. Longer, this time.
lol. im gonna hack your playlist
What a change of tone— wait your spotify playlist is open.
One by one, song titles morphed themselves into ridiculous (disgusting) parodies of their actual names. Album covers? Replaced by hentai ahegao. Artist titles? All renamed into yo mama. Your whole playlist name? It’s now Idiots Listen to This
Deadpanning, you started to type once again on the yellow box of the notes app.
seriously? great first impression dude
what can i say im a professional
You lean back onto your chair. Biting your lip, your eyes flick between the notes app and the forum chatroom. The messages stopped flooding in, but that observation was quickly side-lined in cause of this mysterious interaction.
You stare at the screen for a while.
Someone you know. Someone you know very, very well.
A hitch of something boiling balls up in your gut.
are u who i think u r?
Another pause. But no answer.
BEN?
The three letters blinked at you– then vanished.
your security is disappointing
You snicker, half-nervous.
but your wallpaper’s worse.
You giggle a little, noticing your web browser flicker, seemingly in sync of where you take your breaths in.
hey!! dark deception isnt that bad. takes forever for the next chapter but gameplay is peak
A manic, distorted, eerie laugh emanated from your PC speaker. It’s like if pixels were mangled into a voice file. Jumping back a bit, your startle was quickly replaced with a cautious breath of laughter.
wtf was that u
u can talk u know. i can hear u thru that horrible mic u have
Your back met the rest of your chair.
“Hello?”
there u go
You giggle again. This can’t be real. Your eyes flicker from your notes app back to the dead chatroom and back to the app again. The cursor was still blinking. You’re still breathing. And whatever– whoever it was in your system right now is still there.
“If you can hear me, why don’t you talk?” Crossing your arms, you stare at the screen questioningly. “Prove to me you’re real. I don’t feel like talking to some stupidly coded AI.” Your screens flicker again: one, two, three times.
Then all at once, like a heavy salute or a chanting choir, your phone, your ipad, your laptop, and what you think is your fucking microwave, all beeped to life:
“hi.”
“That’s fucking— holy shit,” your head swivels back from your ajar door to the screen once again. “Yeah, yeah that’s– that’s enough.” you’re terrified. But also impressed. Mostly terrified.
Your fingers hover over your keyboard, but the pads of your fingers don’t seem to connect with any of the keys. Taking a breath, you sigh and relax against the backrest of your chair. (Or at least, try to.)
“You’re really in here,” you watch as your notes app expands itself to a full screen. “Aren’t you?”
cant be disappointing my biggest fan now can i??
Biggest fan. Sucking in a breath too small, your lips quiver. “How much do you know about me?”
i know you like prying into shit you really shouldnt be prying into, for one
i know where you went to college. the names of your friends. where and how you like your coffee.
“Yeah?” your soul feels like it gathered up in your brain and dropped down to your feet all at once. “How do I like my coffee?” you’re testing the waters. You’re testing the waters and you’re about to drown.
mocha. with whipped cream on top and dark chocolate shavings.
Well, shit.
You stay quiet. Why does he know so much about you? Why did he even choose to know? What is he going to do to you?
“What do you want with me?”
i guess nobodys made this far
A pause.
and ur kinda cute ngl
Cute? “You can see me?”
What a stupid question– of course he can see you– if one can hear, one can see.
yeah LMAO ur cute as fuck when ur scared
That’s it. You’re done for the day.
“Asshole,” almost tripping over a charger, you reach behind your desk and pull the plug. You force power-off everything you have that has a screen. (You pulled the plug on your microwave too.)
9:38 AM
You haven’t slept a wink. It was still on your mind– everything was still on your mind.
The dead chatroom. Your notes app. Your spotify playlist. The hi message. Your microwave. The coffee.
ur cute as fuck when ur scared.
You’re cute as fuck when you’re scared.
when you're scared.
scared.
He knew you were terrified. And that was enough for you to live offline for a total of about 9 hours. It didn’t make it any better that your whole setup was facing the foot of your bed, just touching the right corner of your room. Meanwhile, your devices, your phone, your ipad, your laptop, were all piled up on the left side of your desk, resting on the floor.
Like a sad pile of paranoia.
You made dinner at 6. Gone to bed at 8. Slept lightly until 12– awake since 1 AM and grabbed coffee at 7.
mocha with whipped cream and chocolate shavings mocha mocha mocha–
You wanted it plain black today. In fact you wanted it so much you barely took a sip of it. The sad cup of black coffee sat on your left, steam from the heat slowly simmering out into the air less and lesser the more time goes on.
You catch a glimpse of yourself on the dark screen of black on your PC. You look at yourself. Then at your coffee. Back to yourself. Then to the pile of temporarily-abandoned electronics. Then back at yourself again.
A laugh haphazardly escapes your dry throat. Dark circles hang under your eyes. Your hair stuck up in awkward ways. You swallow, but that doesn’t seem to soothe the barbed wires of what is your throat. Was it a fever dream? Were you dead? You sure look like it.
Beyond better judgement, a stubborn force in you traveled from your heavy-beating heart to your fingers. Plugging in the goddamn PC once again, you wait for the system to whir to life and finally blink your lock screen into place.
That isn’t your lock screen.
What greeted you in place instead, was a bright green, flickering screen that you definitely did not remember opening before you shut it all down. Thin horizontal, robotic lines decorated the entirety of your screen, left to right, up to down.
But that wasn’t what made you want to vomit your guts out.
In the middle of the screen– perfect center– were seven words bolded black. It stood out almost perfectly intentional against the bright flickering mess of raw code.
ARE YOU DONE WITH YOUR TANTRUM NOW?
Tantrum? He thinks you’re having a tantrum?
“Are you done!? It feels like you’ve been watching me all damn night–”
Letter by letter, the words backspaced to an empty slate, as if someone was typing this out. Then, the letters reappeared.
PROBS COS I WAS. U HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT?
You weren’t sure where to glare at: the screen entirely, or at the webcam that’s supposedly watching you.
“You’re a fucking freak,” you spat. “Either fess up who you really are or I call the fucking cops.”
There it was. That manic laughter again. You swear it’s louder this time.
COPS WONT DO JACK SHIT. BUT I LIKE IT WHEN U CALL ME A FREAK.
You were about to reach for your phone, long-pressing the power button— but you freeze.
This is how they die. The missing documentarian. This is how he died– you’re sure of it– investigating for the mysterious, encountering it, trying to fight back—
And lose.
If you call the cops, they’d arrive late. They’d find you dead. Dead in the tree. Drowned brutally, with maggots and fly eggs in your mouth while your eyes hung open lifeless—
You’ll be nothing but another article to litter the news and a theory for the internet.
Hands shaking, you set your phone down without a word.
THANKS MOMMY
What?
You’re speechless and annoyed and livid–
“What the fuck are you trying to do?” you could see rings of hot white corner your eyes, the lack of sleep catching up and adding to your fury. He’s playing— you’re not in the mood for a game. “First you fucking hack into my PC for god knows what, ding up all my shit, threaten me, and now you’re calling me fucking mommy?”
DONT ACT LIKE UR NOT INTO IT. I SCROLLED THRU UR TWITTER FEED.
Backspaced again. Then new words.
IM INTO IT TOO 😛😛
“This… this can’t be fucking real,” you feel an unwelcome warmth envelope your face, grinding your teeth while your hands gripped on the edges of the desk like death.
But like a bad daydream, the green code disappears and flickers back to your lock screen. You tense up for a moment, the heat from your face fizzling out. Has he finally left you alone?
Nope. Your lockscreen slides up, before a chrome tab explodes in full, filling your screen corner to corner. A link starts to embed itself on the search bar, the first few words after the HTTP encryption were enough to have you scrambling to spam your esc key.
In a span of what felt like 5 seconds, a page opened in XVIDEOS.com began playing porn— not the super hardcore stuff– but it was definitely loud enough for people in a 10-mile radius to hear.
The woman in the video was on her knees, straddling her male partner under her while she rode him like a death sentence. You could hear the skin slapping when their hips collided, the somewhat skinny guy gripping onto the girl’s ass in a death grip, head thrown back with eyes screwed shut while he moaned his brains out. Tears were dripping down his face and onto the bed.
The girl, meanwhile, leaned part of her weight onto her hands planted on his chest, using it as an anchor while her frame bounced up and down on the guy’s porn-approved cock, her face right above his, focused and looking into his eyes while she rode him to sex-hell.
Their moans traveled like waves and bounced off and through the walls and out your window, and of course, you were sure it reached your upstairs neighbors.
Still spamming the esc key, you try spamming F7 to bring the volume down, and it worked, yes it did– but for about 2 seconds before it rose up the max bar once again. You tried your scroller– still went up again.
You panic in dreadful silence, forcing yourself not to make a sound as to not add any more imagination of what your neighbors might think you’re doing what they think you’re really doing– and it’s all in the hands of an internet legend that goes by in a mockery of a popular adventure game.
And, to add to your horror, a notification appears flatly on the corner-right of the screen:
could be us but ur angry at me for no reason
“No reason!? You’re playing porn on my PC!”
as if u dont do that shit already LMAOO
Like it wasn’t at its maximum, the volume turned up louder.
You’re desperate to get the noise down. You could already imagine the noise complaints flooding your door.
“Okay– okay jesus–” you’re almost yelling. “What the fuck do you want?”
In a sudden flash the whole web browser folds in on itself, closing back into logo. A moment of silence ensues when you spot a random file folder on the right side of your screen: CLICK ME
Your cursor was moving faster than your mind could comprehend.
In an instant the file expanded the screen in full: black. All black. Nothing else.
“Hello?” you cringe, feeling like the stupid main character in the horror movies you’ve watched on pirated movie sites. Lips quivering, you dared to try and call a name you were sure you were dealing with: “Ben…?”
“‘Bout time you accepted it,” a voice called out. Boyish, a little raspy– but it felt like it was echoing off the walls of your PC. But you still couldn’t see him. Following a hunch in your gut, you reach for your mouse and hold the right click.
As expected, you could point at anywhere in this… digital dimension you’re currently in. Left, black. To the right, still black. Then,
“Over here, girlie.”
You suck a breath in and swivel your view point backwards.
There he was. BEN. In all his glory. But it isn’t at all what you expected.
Instead of being a scratchy, polygon-textured stature of Link from Zelda with a forced, manufactured smile on his face— you were met with something far more charming. He’s still blonde, yes– but it’s shaggy– more human, if you will. That shaggy hair was adorned with a wool-woven green beanie.
His ears were still elf-like, but now his earlobes were stretched by ear gauges, bright green, with black helix piercings adorning his ears. His eyes were eerily still– but still so real. Bright, blood-red pupils bore into yours, surrounded by black voids of his scleras. His eyelashes were beautifully long, somehow unstained by the blood dripping from his waterline down to his jaw.
Speaking of his jaw, it was gently sharp and strong, like it was structured from years of clenching it under pressure— or pure curiosity.
BEN notices your eyes trailing him. He grins, showing off perfectly-white square teeth, before he floats back— wait, float?
He floats backwards, his body positioned as if he was laying on a hammock, frame turned slightly sideways to face you.
His body– or at least what you could see through his baggy clothes– weren’t… bad. He had muscle– but not enough to pass as a crazy buff guy ready to punt someone. BEN’s shirt lifted up just enough to show a bit of his V-line. He was lean. Lean but sturdy in all the right ways. He had the type of body to hide under bags and bags of clothes, but had enough strength to fend someone off if he had to.
Maybe enough strength to overpower you as well.
The thought should have terrified you more than it did. You don’t think you would have minded it if that happened—
Shut the fuck up
It was when he threw his head back to cackle at your face when you saw a small mole on the side of his jaw. It fit him.
“You sure talk a lot of shit for someone who stares at strangers on screen.” out of nowhere, he pulls out a blunt (that he probably made himself), and takes a drag. (You’re not sure how it remained lighted in whatever pocket it was in.)
“Are… are you gonna kill me?” your voice came out quieter than you intended.
BEN’s face was still. But his lazy smirk remained plastered on his face. “Nah,” another drag. “I’m too high for that right now.”
You deadpan. “Then what do you want? You never answer me,” he throws the barely-finished blunt somewhere in the void, not caring to even step on it before speaking. “I want you to play a game,” he pauses, shifting in his shirt while he faces you fully. “It’s somethin’ I’ve been working on. Nothing special– just need a little… input.”
BEN shifts closer. “After all, you love sticking your cute little nose into shit you shouldn’t even be looking at, right?” he winks. In a flash of pixels, the void in your PC suddenly consumes BEN’s form and takes you to a starter screen. On first impression it was— janky. The px sizes of each button was a slightly different size, undone hentai GIFs were littered in every space that would have been deemed awkward if not for the more awkward placing of the moving little pictures of lewdness, a bimbo hot-pink theme slapped on the UI. There was no title, just the uneven buttons and the GIFs.
“You’re fucking ridiculous.” you stare at the screen in annoyance. “This is what you’ve been working on? A hentai game?”
A notification that leads back to no apps in your PC pops up again.
not just a sex game, its fucking heaven ill tell you that
“I’m not fucking testing this.” you spat, reaching for your ice-cold bitter coffee as an attempt to have even something to do before clicking X on the notif.
cmonnnn just one round ill play with u
“You’re already playing with me you fucking— fine, fine!”
Your inner morality begs for help the moment you click the start button, screen switching to a selection:
CHOOSE YOUR GENDER
“Come on,” you roll your eyes before clicking female.
In all of what you expected in the world, you would have never anticipated BEN in front of you, on a digital 3D-sculpted bed, shirtless with the rest of his body cut off by the bottom of your PC. He’s on his elbows, fully facing you, with a sly grin and half-high eyes, eyebrows wiggling up and down.
A chatbox under the name BEN pops up just at the bottom of your screen just like in the fucking visual novels on itch.io. His “voice” talked in 8-bit pixels, syncing with how fast the letters appeared inside the box.
u like it?
BEN wiggles his eyebrows two times before you shut your whole PC down without a word.
1:49 AM
The blush that swallowed your face earlier still stained your cheeks like ink.
And the wet slick that coated your cunt stuck like honey.
You didn’t mean to be turned on by anything, not him of all people. Both the fear and horniness mixed inside your brain like slush. Every now and then, you’re reminded of the horrors the entity you had just seen shirtless caused. You had started looking for him God knows how many weeks ago, disregarding this as just urban legend shit the internet made up yet once again.
But this wasn’t just urban legend shit anymore— no, this was mass murder shit. Real-life crime documentary shit. Talking to a serial killer shit.
It was after that interaction you remembered just how much BEN really knew about you.
hi. hi. hi.
ur cute as fuck when ur scared. hi.
mocha? want a mocha? whipped cream, chocolate shavings?
BEN probably knows where you are. Your exact location. Your family. Your friends. Your school your college your life your joys and your fears—
ur cute as fuck when ur scared.
He knows you're scared.
But you didn’t even try to hide it. He knew you more than you knew him, after all, he is just a digital entity that haunts people’s server boards and kill them then hang their body up in a tree right after.
maggots. fly eggs.
Will he kill you? Nah. Was he lying when he said that? Nah? It sounded too casual for him. A threatened, scared innocent person comes up to you and asks will you kill me and all you could say is nah?
You pondered on that thought for a while. If he wasn’t as much as bothered by the question or his answer, BEN was lying. Yet you couldn’t even guarantee you’ll be alive tomorrow before cops eventually find your body, so even if he was lying, you wouldn’t know. His pants weren’t on fire, were they?
It was after thinking about how to make him disappear from your PC that you’d realized you had been lying to yourself. Your plans seemed fruitless. Which is ironic from how hard and long you plotted, eventually coming to a dead-end named what if he’s already ahead of you?
You had been lying to yourself the moment you felt the heat soak your panties when you saw him like that. He was beautiful, unreal. But he was very much real. Real enough to know what turns you on and what scares you all at the same time. You told yourself you’d hire a private investigator– a really good one, then banish this virus from your life forever.
But we lie best when we lie to ourselves.
Despite your inner judgement screaming once again, your hands slid down your panties, the pads of your middle finger kissing the peak of your clit. In slow, deep circles you felt yourself leaking more slick the longer you kept it up. Your teeth pinched the pillow in a tight grip, slow drool puddling on the pillowcase while your eyes kept lidded.
Eventually your fingers found its way circling your hole, teasing your warm folds for a bit before plunging in. You sigh and whine, going slowly but quietly on yourself. Your palms find your breasts, rubbing your nipples while you work your way into your orgasm.
The room was filled with nothing but whimpers that were kept as quiet as possible, along with the embarrassingly louder schlickschlickschlick of your wet cunt. You’d remember his body, how he laid there like a fallen angel, with the body that seems too perfect to be real, faint abs and lean but strong biceps—
Lean but sturdy in all the right ways. He had the type of body to hide under bags and bags of clothes, but had enough strength to fend someone off if he had to. Maybe enough strength to overpower you as well.
Maybe enough strength to overpower you as well.
Maybe enough strength to overpower you as well.
Your orgasm rips through you with fervor, your hips spasming upwards when the peak hits, a small but long moan pressed into the cotton of your pillow reverberates on your ears.
For a moment, you just laid there. Then, like lightning, your PC beeps up for a millisecond, flashing a white screen, then shuts off again.
You immediately pull your covers over your naked body, the blanket immediately warming your shivering body. You stare at the PC for a while. Quiet again.
A small blush dusts your cheeks while your brain flips through possible explanations as to why your PC suddenly sprung into life just to shut off again. Had he been watching you?
You look around the room, your eyes landing on your sad pile of paranoia, waiting for a few seconds, then let your body relax down once again onto the sheets. Your eyes stuck on the ceiling over you. Huffing, you turn over on your side and drifted off to sleep.
11:08 PM
Here you are again.
The PC whirrs on like a ghost coming to life again. Dust had started to collect on the mug of coffee you had long since forgotten.
As if expecting a visit, BEN greets you, almost bored with one hand supporting his chin, head tilted while his eyes were half-closed. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.
Almost snickering, you grin a little. “Do you not take showers, or?”
BEN stares at you, still a little deadpanned. “I’m a god, baby. I don’t need to take showers. But if you wanted to see me wet naked and warm you just hafta’ tell me,” he winks at you, the sly little smirk appearing on his face again. “Just promise me you’re not gonna run away like you did last time. You left lil’ ol’ Ben wondering if he’s even worth it.”
He fakes a pout, his head now resting sideways on his two folded arms, still eyeing you– seemingly through the screen. It was like a window.
“Dude, seriously? You literally almost flashed me with that stupid sex game of yours.” BEN grins wider, his pearly whites showing in full, now. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like the view. I saw how much you were blushing.”
Your eyes look away, trying to keep your face emotionless and unreadable.
Jesus, your wires are a mess.
BEN speaks again. “You wanna play another game?”
Your head snaps back to the screen. “Hell no.”
“C’monnn, it’s good this time. No sex games.”
“I said no, Ben, and that’s final.” you stern, furrowing your eyes at him.
A pause of silence. Then, BEN sighs and leans back on the invisible chair he seems to be sitting on.
“Okay, mommy. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” his voice had a slight whimpering tone to them, and you hated how it did things— unholy, unwelcome things to your body— immediately squirming in an uncomfortable twist, face heating up as quickly as it did.
“Stop–” you took a breath. “Stop calling me that.”
BEN grins, tilting his head teasingly once again. “You don’t like it, mommy? Your Tumblr likes tell me otherwise.” His voice sing-songs on the last word.
You snap. “Stop digging through my shit you fucking—”
“I wouldn’t have dug through it in the first place if you hadn't dug through mine. You crossed a line, I crossed another. Tit for tat. Stop whining and watch your mouth.”
The sudden change of his tone left you frigid and speechless. It was so sudden, so fast and so sharp. You felt your hands grow ice-cold. Eyes widening, you force your lips to open and your voice to utter out.
“I–... I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?”
BEN’s once sudden cold, unforgiving face switches back to his usual lazy smile. “It’s okay, mommy. I forgive ya.” he winks again.
Trying to find an out, you utter once more. “So… what do you–”
“You really do have blowjob-lips, don’t you?”
You flinch back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
BEN shrugs. “You do. Like, actually.”
You stay quiet, the blush getting impossibly hot now. Desperate to find something for your hands to do, you start carefully untangling the loose wires adorning the corner of your desk. “Silent treatment? Really?” his voice drags out on the really, almost taunting you. “Well, I have an idea on how to make you talk.”
Still nothing from you.
“Wanna see it?”
Nothing.
BEN shrugs. “Alright, fine.”
Like sick, twisted substitute for tendrils, the wires from your hands pull back and shoot out, slinking and slithering its way around your wrists— tight.
An extension cord around your ankles. Thick USB-type wires around both your wrists, holding them up above your head. You sputter. “What– what the fu–”
BEN interrupts. “Shh. You wanted to play silent treatment, right? So stay quiet unless you have something worth hearing out of that ungrateful mouth of yours.”
Slowly, a yellow TRS type wire slips its cold metal in, sending goosebumps on your stomach, up to your chest, then—
Your tits bounce awkwardly out of your lifted shirt and into the cold air, giving BEN a full view of what you were hiding. He chuckles, pixel-like crashing sounds heard in his voice. “No bra? Thank you, mommy.” The little shit licks his lips at the sight of your nipple tightening.
“Fuckin– let me go,” you struggle against the wires, twinging at the rubber twisting against your effort. “How the hell are you doing this?”
BEN grins wider. “With all this research you’ve been doing on me I’m surprised you aren’t aware of what I’m capable of.” a few more wires came out to pinch and prod at your nipples, wrapping themselves around the tight buds, earning whimpers from you. You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the whole situation.
Then, another wire, one of your type-B USBs, slips its way into the garter of your panties, bypassing the smooth silk and kissing your clit. You breathe in sharply, hissing when the cold metal presses against the sensitive nub.
“Fuck! – fuck,” you’re squirming now. Waist rotating and twitching in all ways, the rubbers coating the wires keeping your skin in friction— in place. “Just– come on,” you beg, you beg for nothing.
“Go on,” BEN’s voice was calculating, cold. Meticulously paced like a robot, a machine. “Tell me you want to stop. Tell me you want me to disappear. Tell me you don’t want to do this— go on.” his eyes glinted at every flinch.
You stayed quiet. Of all things, of all the scenarios your fear and nightmares warned you– you stayed quiet.
“Just like I fucking thought,” without another word BEN twitches his eyebrow—something starts buzzing in your bedside table. Fighting through the haze and heat, your eyes widen in terror, watching as a white cable reaches all the way to the back of your room, around the knob of your table, and pulls. In your drawer, your vibrator rattles at its maximum power, being held and brought over by the white cable. The vibrator, pink and alive and yours, lowered itself ever so slowly on your dripping cunt. The USB pulls back— like a snake, alive and watching— as the tip of the vibrator, violently buzzing of life, presses against your clit.
Your legs try to flinch close, but rough, thick plugs wrap around your thighs and pull them apart. You could already feel the welts and indents your skin is harboring. Meanwhile, inside of the screen, BEN watches with calculating interest. Red, intense eyes follow yours, then down to your tits, your waist— your leaking cunt.
You stare at him with heavy, lust-ridden eyes, breath heavy and almost steaming with how hot your room is right now. (Did he turn off the AC?)
“You’re the first variable I haven’t been able to predict.” He stares with an almost clinical interest. “Guess you’re special, huh, pixie?” BEN tilts his head to the side, a small grin on his (irritatingly handsome) face.
His mole was in view again.
You keep staring at him, high out of your mind and bucking your hips toward the vibrator. Like sick, twisted mercy, the vibrator inserts itself into the heat of your cunt, requiring a little more effort to push in with how tight you were. The toy finally slips in with a filthy pop!
You feel all your power pour out all at once when your body tenses and stretches against the wires, a long moan escaping your mouth. Your arms were suspended in the air, while your ankles burned against the plastic of your chair.
That’s when you remember it.
Urban legend shit. Mass murder— serial killer shit.
It was a fact to you both that BEN could turn this around in one little moment– reaching a thicker cable around your throat and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until all the life out of you was gone. Then they’d all find your naked body strangled and dead inside your room.
A shiver of fear travels in the ribs of your chest.
BEN’s voice booms out of the speakers. “Your heart rate’s exceeding,” you use whatever strength your neck had left to look down. He had one of your micro-mics against your chest, right in the center where your heart is, and by the expression on his face, he was listening. Listening closely. “Aw, mommy. You really feel this way? For me?”
He laughs mockingly, glitch-crashes accompanying his cackles, simmering down eventually when he looks into your eyes once more.
BEN was amused. He was amused and he isn’t going to stop. His eyebrow is cocked high, over-confident in all the wrong notions. The fear inside you was still there— but something, goddamnit, it always had to be something— burns in your chest, igniting like fire beneath all the cold, damp, terrifying fear.
Something aching like a scandalous rumor— something you shouldn’t be listening to, but you lend your ears anyway.
The orgasm inside you keeps building up on itself, like a boulder ready to fall, moans and sighs and gasps and begging growing more intense, faster, desperate. The fear inside you flickers, closely replaced by hot-white desperation, your spine flinches, your ribs flare, BEN huffs through the screen—
through the screen?
Breaths of hot air meet your sweat-slick skin when you gaze at BEN, his head hung low. Red pupils bore into whatever state your existence was in.
Existence, in its traditional sense, was turned to fog the moment your moans start echoing back to you. There was no true meaning to what existence is to you right now, whether your bundled up in wires naked and afraid in front of your PC made into a home for an entity you never knew really did exist, or you’re hung in a tree, drowned and stripped of your life and humanity, gums drained and made into a home for maggots and fly eggs to live in—
Existence was once a room with locked doors and familiar walls. Then BEN arrived, smiling like an unanswered prayer, and every wall became a window. You could no longer tell whether you were falling out of yourself or being invited somewhere deeper. Fear hollowed your bones. Want filled the empty spaces. Between the two, you ceased to recognize the shape of your own soul.
Existence was a screen— a barrier waiting to be broken by the person in front of it— until BEN crawled out of the PC pixels connecting his torso and the blinking code—
right in front of you.
Your eyes widened— in fear or in sex– you don’t know. You can feel the heat his skin radiated from his face to yours. In an act of derangement, you open your mouth, inviting him in–
BEN’s tongue swirled in with yours, reaching the depths of your own mouth you never knew anyone could reach. His hand, cold and frigid, held your cheeks, thumb rubbing where the pink of your skin puddled up. Your orgasm grows nearer and nearer, shaping into something unrecognizable within your comprehension.
White ragged heat rips you apart. The disconnect of yours and his lips caused by your head throwing back, spine arching to unimaginable measures, the warm sticky slick of your cunt coating more than half of your vibrator, body grinding against BEN’s.
You felt it. His body. His lean waist. The faint hard-on in his pants.
Mewling from the intense orgasm and its leftovers, you pull against the wires holding your arms up and try to reach for him– for BEN, desperate for closure. He clicks his tongue, grinning. “I knew you liked me,”
With one swift motion, he carries himself with his arms planted on your desk, bringing his whole frame down and in front of you. The vibrator had long since died inside of you, and he gazes down at it. Flashing a toothy grin, he reaches down—
The toy pops out of your cunt lewdly, a wet pop! sound reverberating from the walls louder than it should’ve. You tremble at the sudden loss of fullness, whimpering. Without a word and still staring at you, BEN brings up the vibrator to his mouth, and drags his tongue over the warm, creamy residue left on the toy, moaning the moment his tongue lolls back inside his mouth.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he throws the toy away somewhere on the floor without care, bony but accurate hands flying to his sweatpants and impatiently pulling it down.
You feel a breath of fresh air enter your lungs when you feel your wrists and ankles let free, slight bruises and burns adorning your skin. Your body flunks down against the chair like a ragdoll, chest heaving breaths heavier than your head.
A hand grips your jaw out of unconsciousness. “Don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” BEN’s voice wasn’t accompanied by broken glitches anymore– it was real, inside your ears and echoing inside the walls of your skull.
“Kiss me,” you mewl, thighs already pressing against each other for any kind of friction. “Please—Ben–” you’re gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling yourself up like a pathetic dog, desperately craving any kind of skin-to-skin contact.
BEN laughs, boyish and raspy, before crashing his lips onto yours once again— this time you really paid attention: his lips weren’t like the warm fuzzy heat that enveloped your lips anymore— no, they were warm still, but unexpectedly softer than you’d ever expected. He tasted like sour gummies and weed.
He pulls away, breaking a string of spit that connects your lips together, earning a hazed, dizzy giggle from you. BEN grins back. He points to your bed.
“On the bed,” he commands, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m gonna wreck all your security controls baby.”
The pick-up line snaps you out of your complete haze, making you giggle dizzily. “Seriously? After you just made me almost see god?”
BEN grins wider. “You are seeing god,” his smile drops as suddenly as it came. A wave of fear flashes over you once again. “He’s right in front of you.”
Those arms you once fantasized about were now hauling your limp, adrenaline-ridden body, and eventually pushed on the bed, a muffled squeal received by the mattress. You immediately scramble to sit up, but are pushed down by both BEN’s strength and weight, feeling him straddle your naked hips. He was in his boxers now.
BEN grins in your face, intention riddling his red eyes with want, trailing from your eyes down to your exposed tits. He licks his lips.
“Stay there,” he breathes, sitting up and lifting his shirt over his head— oh my god.
His faint abs looked ethereal in the faint light of the approaching midnight, PC screen still on and flickering faintly, like a portal surpassed. His collarbones were quite deep– but still strong. His biceps were just like how you imagined– lean, but strong enough to–
overpower you.
You started to think he really might be an angel as much as you think he might also be the devil himself.
He notices you staring. Of course he does. “Like what you see, pixie?” BEN fake-flexes his muscles, sticking the tip of his tongue out in between his teeth.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you huff impatiently. “Just… just do it already,” BEN tilts his head. “Do what?” he’s tilting his head again, teasing you. He likes seeing you struggle– scared.
ur cute as fuck when ur scared.
A tear escapes your eyelashes– not only because you’re scared, but you’re so overwhelmed and desperate and he’s taking so long to get on with it.
“Fuck me,” you whine, thighs rubbing against his, her frame squirming and twisting, trying to get any kind of movement. BEN clicks his tongue, shaking his head, taunting. “You really want me to do that to you? To fuck the shit out of you?”
You nod, frantically.
“That’s fucked up shit, you know that? You’re fucked up shit.” He grins, dimples poking themselves on his skin. “But lucky for you, pixie,” he leans in closer, his blonde hair brushing against your neck while his thumb presses against your throat to feel you gulp. He runs his tongue from the base of your neck to the back of your ear– before biting the creamy skin, pulling just a tiny bit, then let go.
You tremble. You can feel him grin against you.
“I love fucked up shit.”
Moving your thighs to the side of his hips, BEN gets rid of his boxers and throws them to nowhere in the room, pumping himself a few more times, his own pre-cum coating his hand and his cock. Looking down, you bite your lip at the view: his cock was long and fairly thick, the tip being a nice pretty pink color with cum beading at the top of his slit.
“Whatcha think, pixie? ‘S it big?” God, you can practically hear the arrogance in his voice. You roll your eyes. “Nah. I’ve seen bigger.” you smile slyly. And for a second, his features drop. Then—
The tip of his cock meets its way inside in your cervix, bruising the poor spongy flesh, grounding your body with his forearms behind your back, locking you against him while your spine arches back deep against the plush of the mattress. You squeal, eyes rolling back into your skull while your mouth runs agape, mewls escaping ever so sweetly like honey.
BEN dips down to your ear, voice low and commanding. “Liar.”
With no hesitation, he starts pistoning in and out of your weeping cunt, hips hitting each other like concrete colliding with each other— over and over and over again.
“Mnn– fuck! Ah, shit– fuck!” your head remains pressed backwards, spine starting to ache bluntly from the mean arch your body is forced in. “More! Please–”
BEN shivers, his whole frame quivering before he settles his shoulders steady against your chest, lips touching your wheezing throat. “Not as good as your fingers feel, huh pixie? Ah, fuck–... Your tiny little fingers couldn’t reach this deep, can they?”
“No–” you squeak, “No, fuck no,” your hands fly to his back, nails digging crescent-shaped indents on his smooth skin.
In a sudden instant, BEN pulls back, large hand gripping your hair and forcing your head down—
Right where you’re getting fucked.
His cock was beating in and out of you mercilessly, sloppy and sticky and filthy, strings of pre-cum and slick. Lewd sounds of schlapschlapschlap coated your ears like think syrup, the sound making you dizzier– tighter.
BEN’s grip holds your head in place, there, forcing immobility against his grasp.
He was forcing you to watch. To see how hard and how filthy you’re being destroyed. To see how easily you gave up for him. How easily you gave up for someone who probably killed hundreds.
“Watch it,” he groans under his breath, short gasps and sharp breaths blowing on your skin. “Watch how hard I fuck you. Nobody’s gonna do it like I did to you, never again,” he laughs, short-breathed and short-lived. “The next time you decide to fuck somebody else— you’ll remember me. You’ll remember this dick. You’ll remember me.”
BEN’s hips were trembling now, his thrusts sloppily getting more uneven and uneven the more he quivered— but you were no different. You watched, you watched as his cock disappeared fully into your pussy, and then back out again, drenched in your juices, then inside again.
You can feel him in your lungs.
Your breath is forced out every time BEN pushes in, your moans thinning out to little whimpers and whines and everything he gets out of you. For a moment, you felt like you were floating, head in the clouds, the weight of your shoulders lifted up and brought to what you think heaven must be like.
His breaths are now shakier. Heavier. He’s fucking into you not just hard— reckless, frantic— craving. You can hear the bed squeaking under the both of you.
BEN’s grip on your hair wanes, his head dropping down to the base of your neck, taking in your scent, mouth open and moaning impossibly loud against your skin, a plethora of fuuuuck yesss’s and pleaseee’s.
A familiar ache balls up in your gut once again, and immediately, you squirm– refusing to let him see you break apart once again– pushing his arms back and pulling your body backwards away from him—
“Where you goin’? Huh?” BEN laughs, half-high on sex. “Where ya goin’, pixie? Huh?”
With minimal effort, he pulls you back with one swift drag— how is he so strong— forcing your cunt to take him in full so harshly, making you scream in pure bliss when your clit meets the base of his cock.
As if he couldn’t have been any more harsher, BEN intensifies his pace: harder, sharper, crueller. His hand finds a way to your hair again–
“You’re gonna lay here and fucking watch,” he groans in between moans. “Sit pretty and watch.”
You squeal through tears, scratching like a kitten on his arms, thighs shaking crazily. “Ben! —” he interrupts, “No.”
You couldn’t do anything but sob messily on his cock, the pleasure and slight pain becoming too much for you to handle anymore. And as if the humiliation isn’t enough–
“Y’know– ugh, you were pretty cute when you were scared as shit,” he laughs through his moans. “But you’re fucking gorgeous when you’re cryin’ on my dick–”
You answered with another squeal– one that you were sure shot through the walls this time. You were shaking, shaking, shaking. And undeniably, impossibly hot with sex.
“Come on,” BEN taunts, “Cum on my cock— cum on it, baby–” he throws his head back with a noise somewhere between a grunt and— a whine?
“Cum on it, come on, fuckin’ do it–”
You can feel your body charge with white heat and pure euphoria rush in your veins, eyes rolling back with a cry, legs trembling intensely, your hands gripping on his arms. Your body gave out against his.
BEN moans long and loud, his head throwing back in the sudden intense shock of pleasure, hips pulling back—
A warm fluid stains the inner of your thighs, hips spasming against yours while you rode your orgasm out on his wet, twitching dick.
He’s still hard.
Hips sloppily moving up and down, you tried to ride whatever’s left of your orgasm, before snapping out of your haze by BEN lifting your thighs and pushing your knees near your chest–
He drops down steady on his knees.
You lift your head up. “Wait– wait what are you doin–”
A long, wet stripe of his tongue licks up your folds and presses against your clit. You shiver, jolts of another orgasm already stinging its way into your system.
“Gotta clean you up,” BEN mutters against the sides of your thighs. “Plus you taste fuckin’ good.” You feel his tongue slip inside your cunt again, his thumb pressing firmly on your clit. He slips two more fingers inside you—
And you were so very sure the devil himself was showing you around the gates of heaven.
BEN was deep and fast and desperate, his tongue plunging in and out of your heat, rubbing against your tight, warm pussy. His eyes remain lidded, as if he was lost in the taste of you and looking for more. His fingers pump in and out, long and sturdy from years of coding and gaming, knuckles deep inside of you. You feel him hum every time you feel yourself leak a little more of your slick on his tongue.
It wasn’t long until you came again, another orgasm ripping through you— but deeper this time, firmer.
You came with one final long mewl, then your body limps back on the mattress.
Then, breaking the silence, BEN snickers. “I told ya I’d break your security systems,” He grins over you, stupid and boyish and accomplished with himself.
You turn over, exhausted and sexed out. “You’re ridiculous.”
1:43 PM
“Are you sure it isn’t another sex game?” you deadpan at him through the screen, a VR headset hung haphazardly on your forehead.
“Nahh, it’s something for you. Like, promise.” you roll your eyes at his response.
The VR headset was shipped to your house ever so suddenly on a random Saturday morning such as today. After arguing with BEN about shipping random shit to your house, he has finally convinced you to give it a try.
“How’d you even get money for this thing?” you sigh. “You didn’t use my card, did you?”
BEN acts offended with a gasp and a hand on his chest. “Whaaat? Of course not,” he grins. “I use crypto for all my stuff, yadda yadda– just put the thing on already, come on!”
You shake your head before doing as he said. The UI greets you with a green background. No hentai GIFs, and all the buttons were equal in size now.
“Not bad,” you shrug, selecting the start button. A black void greets you once again, and your stomach churns. “Ben…” you call out, daringly.
In a flash, the whole void glitches—
Multiple screen-like GIFs of hentai ahegao with sound starts playing in all dimensions of this world you’re in, volume turned up to the max with high pitched moans and repeated voice lines of onii-chan! In every earshot.
“What the fuck– Ben!!”
BEN pops out into existence in front of you, now in 3D digital-classic VR style, grinning at you in a cartoonish fervor. “Isn’t it just fuckin’ great? That one’s my favorite,” he points to a shoujo-style GIF with the anime girl being plowed from behind. You didn’t bother looking. You raised your digital hand and slapped him squarely in the face.
“Ow!?” was all you heard before you took off the VR and threw the whole set on the bed.
You were standing in front of your microwave 4 hours later, staring deadpanningly on where the timer should be.
IM SORRY :(
You still deadpanned.
Then, another message rolls onto the screen sideways: COME BACK TO BED
You raise an eyebrow.
I MISS U SO MUCH MOMMY
You laugh quietly, setting the bowl of egg dip down before making your way back to the bedroom.
Meanwhile, your phone, left abandoned on the countertop, beeps with one message:
Warnings: alcohol (specifics not given), drinking, tipsy sex, takes place between AOTC and ROTS, reader can blush/get red, reader wears a nightgown, pwp, the force (kind of) used during sex, protected sex, dirty talk, nipple/boob stimulation, oral (f!recieving), aftercare
Summary: You and your boyfriend spend a night drinking spiked coffee in your kitchen, which ultimately leads to both of you feeling some sort of way towards eachother that leads you to the bedroom.
♬: Agora Hills - Doja Cat
A/N:
"And at the peak of the fight, Anakin and I stood at the edge of the cliff, ready to strike, when the edge gave out under us and we fell all the way down the mountain."
You laugh at Obi-Wan's story, your head hitting your dining table. Your laugh is... loud and overdramatic. But you blame the alcohol. You're about three mugs in, and Obi-Wan is just finishing his second one. You two have about two shots in each mug.
You're still laughing.
"Breathe, darling."
That made you laugh more.
Obi-Wan starts laughing with you, putting a hand on his forehead and his elbow on the table. Your arm is on the table in front of you, your forehead against the table. You sit straight and lean to the side, your head now on his shoulder.
"You're so funny," you say in a fit of giggles.
"Am I so funny, or is it the coffee?" He straightens up and looks down at you.
"Mmmm... both."
"Both." He repeats and chuckles, and kisses your head. "Can you do me a favor, dear?"
"Mhm."
"Pour some more coffee for me?"
You nod and he turns his head to look at you, your noses touching. You peck his lips a couple of times. You sit straight. You pour some more coffee into his mug, then grab the bottle and pour about two shots into it. You shove the mug towards him. He grabs it by the handle and you grab yours.
"Cheers." He grins.
"Cheers." Your smile is a little lopsided.
Your mugs clank together, and you two drink. You chug the rest of your drink while Obi-Wan just takes a gulp of it. You cringe at the taste. Black coffee and alcohol do not mix well, but hey, the goal is to get drunk. You pour more coffee and more alcohol into your cup.
Obi-Wan stares at you, his eyes drooping. You drink in silence, occasionally giggling at nothing. After a couple of minutes of silence, you look up at him.
"What are you looking at?" You slur slightly.
"The love of my life."
Your face flushes, and you rest your chin on his shoulder, your eyes never leaving him.
"You're so sweet to me."
"It's the bare minimum, my dear."
He reaches over with his opposite hand and holds onto the back of your head, and slowly leans forward, pressing his lips against yours. You moan against his lips, both of his hands now holding onto your head. Your hands trail up his arms to his biceps.
The kiss is slow but passionate and full of tongue and desperate grabbing. His eyes are half lidded while yours are closed. One of his hands stays on the back of your head while the other rests on your hip. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck. You two pull away, panting.
"Our coffee will get cold."
"But..." You speak between kisses. "...I want... to keep kissing you..."
"Come."
He lightly pulls your arm towards him. You let yourself be pulled and almost fall off your chair, making it tilt and almost fall too.
"Oh, I'm sorry, beautiful." Obi-Wan catches the chair.
"Mm-mm..."
You don't take your lips off him as you get off of your chair and climb onto his lap, each knee on either side of his thighs.
One of your arms wrap around his neck, your other hand on his running through his hair. Your hand on his opposite shoulder slips under the collar of his tunic as you make out. One of his arms wraps around your waist, gripping onto the fabric of your nightgown, the other hand holding your ass gently.
The coffee is long forgotten. Obi-Wan's lips trail from your lips down to your jawline and neck. He lightly bites and kisses the crook of your neck. You moan softly and grip onto his hair and shoulder.
"You don't care about the coffee anymore, hm?" You giggle and tilt your head back.
Obi-Wan looks up at you, panting, silent for a good second. "What coffee?"
He grins and pulls you back in, kissing you again. The kiss is loud, full of noises from your tongues dancing and your lips connecting. You pull away and stare into each other's eyes for a solid minute.
"Bedroom...?" You break the silence, your lips centimeters away from his.
"We're intoxicated, beautiful."
"But... but we fuck so good when we're drunk," you pout.
"How vulgar."
He leans in and presses a soft kiss on your lips, on the contrary to the other kisses– which were more like devoring eachother.
"Let's go to the bedroom, Obi... come on..."
"... you know I can never deny you, darling."
You let out a squeal of excitement and kiss him again.
"Mmm... you're really hungry, aren't you?"
"Hungry for you."
You lean in and kiss him again. He mutters a soft "Let's go" against your lips. You hop off his lap, your hands still around his neck. He stands up with his hands on your hips. He trips a little over the chair leg as he backs up and holds onto the back of the chair to catch himself. You bend over in laughter, and Obi-Wan laughs with you but softer.
Hand in hand, you walk to the bedroom. You're still giggling, and Obi-Wan is just smiling. You walk in and spin on your heel to look at Obi-Wan behind you. He shuts the door behind him and lunges at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He picks you up and spins you as you let out small laughs. He sits on the bed, and you sit on his lap.
He leans in and kisses your lips, which you return immediately. His lips stay locked onto yours as he keeps one of his arms around your waist as he lays down on the bed. With his free hand, he reaches up and grabs a pillow. He pulls it down and flips you two over, your head now on the pillow. Your arms tighten around his neck as the kiss continues.
Obi-Wan tries to pull away, his hand holding onto the edge of his shirt to take it off. You don't let him.
"My love-" Obi-Wan tries to speak, but you keep his lips against yours.
"Mm-mm."
"Let me strip-" you keep cutting him off.
Finally, he successfully pulls away. He pulls his shirt off and combs his fingers through his hair. Your hands trail down his bare torso, your nails lightly grazing old scars and healed bruises.
"You look like a statue from down here," you slur slightly.
"Statue?"
"Mhm... like a god..."
You trail your nails down his fit torso again, making him shiver.
Obi-Wan leans down and presses his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, resting the kiss. He fumbles with his pants, pulling them and his boxers down and kicks them off his feet.
"Excuse me, darling..." he speaks against your lips. He pushes your nightgown up and carefully but quickly pulls off your panties. "I'm feeling rather..." he kisses your neck, "...impatient..."
He keeps kissing your neck as he outstretches his hand towards the nightstand. The drawer opens and a condom comes out of the drawer, and landing in his hand.
He pulls away from your neck and presses the condom wrapper to your lips. Your teeth bite down onto the wrapper and he tugs on it, your teeth opening it. You spit out the wrapper bit in your mouth as Obi-Wan takes out the condom and slips it on.
He presses his lips against yours, the head of his dick pressing against your clit. He guides it inside of you with his hand, and you moan softly against his lips. It feels like the alcohol makes the sensation ten times greater.
He pulls away, moaning softly as he starts moving in and out of you slowly. Your hands cling onto his biceps, holding on tightly as you moan with him. Every thrust in and out, you both can hear your pussy squelch.
"Ah... You're so... wet..." Obi-Wan whispers, his lips inches from yours, his eyes never oeeling away from your face.
You let out a giggle that melts into a moan. "That's the condom, dummy."
He lets out a scoff and leans down, kissing your cheek and jawline. He straightens up to look down at your pleasure-ridden face.
"The condom does not make me anaptic, beautiful..." he leans in close to your ear and whispers, "I can feel you."
His hands trail down to your waist, pressing you down onto the sheets under your hips. Your boobs and nightgown– which is pulled up right below your boobs– both bouncing with every thrust.
Alcohol makes both of you more talkative. Especially in sex.
"Mmm... I feel you so deep..." you whimper out, your holds grabbing into his on your waist.
Obi-Wan doesn't reply, just stares down at you as his thrusts continue. He lets out small moans, but most of them are drowned out by your much louder moans.
"I won't be able to hold on much longer, beautiful..."
"Nooo..." you pout and loosely wrap around his neck, "not yet... you feel so good."
He leans down and pecks your nose, his thrusts getting faster. Your heels dig into his lower back harder. His nose presses against yours, and your foreheads press together as you both moan louder. You close your eyes.
"Right there.. oh my... f- mmm..." you open your eyes, looking into his blue ones.
"Keep on talking to me, my love... your voice... turns me on so badly."
"You're so big, Obi..." you cup his face with both of your hands. "I feel you so deep..." you kiss him. "Ugh... I feel you in my stomach." You let out a small laugh.
Obi-Wan's thrusts slow down, and he pushes deeper against you, reaching deeper into you. You let a noise that is the mix of a groan and a moan with every slam against you. Your eyes widen, staring into his. His brows frown in concentration, feeling how deep he's going inside of you.
Your toes curl and legs shake. He hands move from your waist to your inner knees and presses your legs flat against the mattress. The change in position changes the feeling of the penetration. Your moans get shakier as you get wetter. Obi-Wan moans too, feeling you clench and unclench around him.
"G-go faster, Obi, I'm close..."
"Mhm..." he mutters and does exactly what you ask him to do.
Your hands trail up to grip onto his hair as his thrusts get faster, the squelching sounds from your pussy getting louder.
As you reach your peak, your moans get louder. You grip onto his hair so hard it hurts as you shake in his hold, reaching your orgasm. He brings one of his hands down, his thumb slowly rubbing against your clit as he continues, his pace slowing down, going back to his deeper thrusts.
"Just hold on, Darling... just a bit more... I know you can hold... on..."
"Oh god yeah... anything for you..." you gasp out.
With a couple more thrusts, he reaches his peak. He lets out a moan but muffled it with a kiss on your lips. You two make out as you feel him fill up the condom. You run your fingers through his hair, and his hands go your waist as his hips slow to a hard stop. You two pull away, your head sinking back into the pillow. You smile up at him, and he returns your smile.
"Oh, how i love you," he kisses you.
"I love you too," you smile.
"But must we stop now?" He kisses you again.
"Mmmm of course not... I want more."
"I want much more," he leans down and kisses your neck.
You let out a tired laugh, your fingers still running through his hair. You stare up at him– his droopy eyes, flushed face, sweaty forehead, messed up hair. He looked ethereal.
"You look so handsome."
He smiles wider. "And you gorgeous."
He leans down and kisses you. You push yourself up to sit up. You try to push him away, but he won't pull away from your lips. His hand goes to the back of your head, holding you in place.
"Obi-Wan...-" you mutter against his lips.
He finally pulls away with a "hm?".
"Let me strip."
"Ouu okay," he leans back a little, watching you.
He pulls out of you, his hands on your thighs. You pull your nightgown above your head and throw it on the floor, your bare boobs now on display. Obi-Wan let's out a shaky breath at the sight. He doesn't need to say anything for you to just nod, giving him consent.
He leans forward, latching his lips around your nipple. You let out a soft moan. His opposite hand trails up your body and starts kneading the boob that he isn't sucking on. His fingers gently fondle your boob and twist your nipple between his fingers. His lips and teeth gently pull and suck on your nipple. One of your hands are running through his hair, the other propping you up, your hand on the mattress.
The hand that's on your thigh trails up, inching close to your pussy. Your thighs instinctively open wider. Obi-Wan's hand lands on your pussy, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles on your still sensitive clit.
You grip onto his hair, moaning shakily. The hand on your boob grabs the pillow behind you and places it on your lower back for more comfort. The hand comes back teasing and fondling your boob.
His fingers keep rubbing against your pussy. Then, they move down and slowly enter you. You moan a little louder as his fingers slowly inch inside of you until he's knuckle-deep.
His fingers move in and out of you, making you moan more. You throw your head back. The mixed sensation of him sucking your nipple, his hand fondling the other one, and him fingering you makes you see stars. Then, he switches. His mouth latches onto the other nipple while his hand goes down to grip onto your waist. Your other nipple glistens with his saliva, the clear liquid running down the curve of your boob.
Obi-Wan's fingers curl inside of you in a delicious way. It doesn't take long for you to get close. Obi-Wan hums around your nipple, feeling your juices run down his wrist.
"Ohh... you're so good..." you gasp.
He continues making out with your boob. He looks up at you, but your head is thrown back in pleasure.
Your hips subconsciously buck against his fingers, your heels digging into the mattress. You're right at the edge of your orgasm when Obi-Wan pulls away from your boob and pulls his fingers out. He gets on his knees and presses his mouth against your pussy. Both of his hands come up, twisting your nipples– enough to feel but not to hurt.
You lay fully down, moaning louder. Both of your hands grip onto his hair. Obi-Wan is nose deep in your pussy, devoring you, his eyes closed, concentrating on eating you out. You reach your orgasm with a yell of his name, your thighs caging his head.
He stares up at you, and you lock eyes. He continues lapping against you, drinking your cum. He delivers one last long suck to your clit before pulling away with a "pop!" sound. Your thighs squish his cheeks before opening, letting him fully stand straight. His thumbs softly massage your nipples– which are as red and irritated as your pussy.
Obi-Wan looks at your trembling legs and smiles up at you.
"Shaking?"
"Out of pleasure. Come up here."
He immediately crawls up and kisses your lips. You can feel your wetness still on his beard and on his tongue. You wrap your arms around his neck as you make out, your boobs pressing against his chest.
After a hot minute of making out, he pulls away from your lips, and you sit up. He looks you up and down and exhales shakily. Obi-Wan grabs onto your hips and tries to pick you up to scoot you up higher on the bed, but you stop him.
"What's wrong?"
"Why carry me if you have the Force, Mr. Jedi?" You smile cheekly up at him.
"I prefer not to use the Force when I am being intimate with my love."
"Pleaseeee?"
He pauses. "Oh, alright."
Obi-Wan backs up just a bit and outstretches his arm to point at you. You're– gently– thrown back further up the bed. Though, he throws you a bit too far, and you hit your head on the headstand. You let out an "omph" and you start laughing, holding the back of your head.
Obi-Wan immediately panicks. He climbs up to bed and places his hand on where you hurt yourself.
"Oh shoot... are you alright, darling?"
Your laugh continues as you nod. You kiss his cheek reassuringly. He rubs your head, looking genuinely worried.
"I'm so sorry," he kisses your head, "so sorry."
"I'm okay, Obi," you giggle.
"I knew that would happen," he grumbles, his eyes worried but still has the droopiness from the alcohol and the sex.
"Mmm... I want you more."
You kiss him, and the kiss immediately heats up. Obi-Wan pulls you on top of him as you kiss, his head hitting the pillows. The kiss continues for a minute before he pulls away. He rolls out from under you, leaving you face down at on the bed. With your head laying on the bed, you get on your knees so you're face down ass up.
Obi-Wan situates himself behind you, his hands on your ass gently. You look behind at him as he takes off the condom, throws it away, gets a new one from the nightstand, and slips the new one on.
His dick is already hard. He presses himself against your ass, his hands on your hips. He stares down at his dick between your asscheeks and then looks up at your face. You fold your arms in front of you in your pillows and lay your head on it, looking back at him. His dick twitches when you make eye contact.
"Obiiii..." you whine, shaking your ass just a little.
He shivers and exhales. Obi-Wan guides his dick inside of you. You both moan, and your bodies melt at the feeling. You're wetter than before. He can feel it through the condom.
He starts moving at a medium pace, hands still gripping your hips. You look up at him, and his eyes switch between looking down at your ass rippling and tensing up with every thrust and your hazed eyes.
"Obi-Wan... ohhhh..." you prop yourself on your elbows, looking back at him clearer. "You look so... good..."
His hands grip tighter on your hips. "So do you..."
"You're so deep... pleaseee..."
"Please what, darling?... use your words."
"Please... please. Faster."
Obi-Wan leans down and gives your lips a small kiss and straightens up again. He starts going faster, making you moan louder. Your knees slide on the bed, opening your legs wider, and your stomach gets closer to the mattress.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." your hands grip tighter onto the pillows.
Obi-Wan moans your name, continuing his deep, fast thrusts. Your elbows give out, and your cheek lands on the pillow. Unable to look at your face, he looks down at your ass. How it tenses and ripples with every thrust, how it looks pressed against his pelvis, how his dick looks disappearing and reappearing inside of you.
Obi-Wan leans over you, his hands supporting his weight on either side of your head. He kisses your cheek and head, his thrusts continuing. You look back at him, moaning his name softly. He leans in and kisses you while his arm snakes around your waist, anchoring you.
"I'm so... so close..."
"You're so beautiful, [Name]..." he kisses you again. "You're an angel."
You shake in his arms, moaning. You reach your peak, yelling out his name, gripping onto the sheets. You shake in his arms, your hips involuntary moving against him, almost desperate for more friction.
Your body goes limp in his arms, but he doesn't stop. Obi-Wan slows down, inching closer and closer to his peak. Both of his arms circle around your waist, his thrusts suddenly getting faster. You ramble incoherent words, your legs shaking and tensing up more as his pace quickens
With one final, hard slam, Obi-Wan reaches his peak, filling up the condom. He moans shakily, chanting your name like a prayer. His body goes limp and crushes you, pressing you between his body and the mattress. He breathes against your neck, panting heavily, still inside of you. You giggle.
"What, pray tell, are you laughing about, hm?" He raises a hand and pushes your hair away from your face. He presses a kiss on your cheek.
"Mmm... you're like a weighted blanket." You giggle and cross your arms in front of you and lay your head on them.
"Oi? I'm not that heavy?" He reigns offense.
"That's not what I meant." You smile back at him.
He smiles back and kisses you softly.
"Would you like me to get off of you?"
"Nooooo..." you squirm, getting more comfortable. "I feel like a sandwich."
He chuckles. "Still woozy from the drinks?"
"Mmmmaybe." You can still feel the alcohol in your system, but after so many rounds of sex, you're more sober than when you started.
He leans in and kisses you. Your kiss is slow and passionate. Both of your hairs are a mess– though his is much more messed up–, your faces flushed and sweaty. You pull away, and he places a couple more pecks on your lips.
"I can stay like this all night."
"Oh, can you?"
"Mmmmhm."
"Do you need something? Water, a bath, some food?"
"Nope. I just need you."
"Ahhh. Well, you have me, my darling." He kisses you again.
The kiss is again slow, passionate. Seconds– almost a minute– into the kiss, Obi-Wan feels you not kissing back. He pulls away and looks down at you and... oh you're asleep.
Obi-Wan let's out a quiet laugh and presses a small kiss onto your cheek. He rolls off of you, making you shift in your sleep. He takes the condom off and throws it away. He pulls the covers over both of you and cuddles up against you, pressing a kiss on your head with his hand stroking your hair.
A/N: dude I wrote half of this and my phone crashed and I had to rewrite sm kill me now
♡ He's a minimalist. But not in a "bright white lights, asylum looking house" way. He likes warm colors that combine well. He just likes the simple things. Neatly organized and simple decorations and not-so-flashy accessories. Like if he were to wear accessories, he'd wear simple brown or black leather bracelets, plain silver band rings, and a plain silver/gold chain necklace (he wouldn't get earrings).
♡ ^^His house is very tidy and minimalist. Its white, beige, and brown with splashes of warm colors here and there. The only decorations being an occasional lamp, fake plant, paintings, and an organized and pretty-looking calendar.
♡ ^^But during holidays, everything is overly decorated. He loves holidays.
♡ He has to sleep holding something. If it's not you, he's on his back with his arms crossed like he's holding himself.
♡ ^^Speaking of sleeping, he wakes up early and sleeps early. I'm talking he wakes up at 6a.m. and sleeps at 9p.m.. He is not a morning person, and he loves sleeping. He cherishes his beauty sleep a whole lot.
♡ Pretty sure this is canon, but he fidgets a lot when he's nervous or thinking. When he was a Padawan, he'd play with his braid. Now that he's older, he plays with his beard or mustache. Occasionally, he plays with his fingers or the ends of his robe.
♡ The amount of dad jokes– jokes in general– he tells oml.
♡ ^^It doesn't matter if nobody laughs at them either. He's cracking jokes and puns, and he will be the only one laughing at them. If someone else laughs at them, he feels very proud of himself. He gets offended if anyone guesses his punchline before he says it. And he's very easy to crack up. If you make a joke, he will be laughing at it, no matter how unfunny it was.
♡ He loves going out. To the bar, stores, to take a walk/drive, doesn't matter. If he's invited and his schedule is cleared, he's going. Especially if it's to the bar.
♡ He doesn't smoke, but he drinks. Pretty sure this is canon too tho. He just doesn't see the appeal in smoking, and you can get hooked into it easily, and the side affects are horrible, yada yada. He just prefers drinking. (Hes borderline alcoholic but he denies having a problem)
♡ ^^He's a heavyweight. He takes alcohol like a champ. You can barely tell that he's drunk when he is. You can tell when his face gets flushed and he's more tired than usual that he's about to blackout. He rarely blacks out tho. He drinks responsibly.
♡ He loves to talk and listen. He's a very talkative guy. Tell him about anything, and his listening cap is on and buckled in. He's very easy to just let loose on, and he's very trustworthy. And he's very good at advice too. When it comes to his actual issues, he doesn't talk about them unless someone asks outwardly. But he can talk about literally anything else.
♡ He likes calm music. Music that fits the vibe of a rainy day. He likes string instruments (acoustic guitar, violin, and piano mainly). Most of his favorite songs are instrumentals, but the ones that aren't are romance songs.
♡ ^^Sometimes, he plays jolly ass songs or stupid songs to make other people laugh or to annoy them. He's a ragebaiter.
♡ ^^As much as a likes music, he also enjoys silence. It calms him down, gives him the space to think, and makes him aware of his surroundings.
♡ He's a big animal guy. Loves animals. If there's an animal, he wants to pet it. Though, he doesn't have any pets. It's for the same reason that all of the plants in his home are fake: he sometimes doesn't have time to take care of other living things. Being a Jedi Master takes away his time at home a lot.
♡ ^^The only TV he watches is animal documentaries, and he always falls asleep halfway through.
♡ He has a huge sweet tooth. He'd say some shit like "Sugar is bad for people my age," and next minute, he's housing an entire cake. He looks like he likes chocolate chip cookies.
♡ He can cook fairly well. Not Gordan Ramsey status, but the talent is there. Though, he goes out to eat at diners and restaurants a lot because sometimes he's just too hungry and tired to cook.
♡ ^^He's a big foodie. Boy loves to eat. But when he's really sad/depressed, he starves himself. Not in the way that he forces himself to not eat, he just feels like he can't bring himself to eat.
♡ He loves to gossip but always denies it. He says he wants to live a drama-free life and not stick his nose into where it belongs, but the second he hears "Guess what ___ did?" he's locked in.
♡ Used to be a huge gamer as a youngin. He used to stay up as a teenager/young adult playing games and sometimes would wake up Qui-gon, and his consoles would be taken.
♡ He's really good with kids. He's kind of awkward around them at first, but kids always just gravitate towards him, and he warms up to them. Kids and babies just pick him because of his pure soul yk.
♡ The reason he got rid of his mullet was because Anakin and Ahsoka were making fun of it. It got embarrassing after a while of teasing. (He looked so fine with that mullet oml).
♡ He doesn't cuss/curse at all. The cloest he ever was was a "f- mmh." or "sh- mmh.", and the "mmh" is always said with tightly pressed together lips and a fist wave. He instead says stuff like "Good grief", "Oh my goodness", "Holy smokes", "Golly", "Oh dear", etc etc.
♡ ^^He doesn't care if others curse all that much, but if Anakin cusses in a serious conversation or situation, he says, "Language." If there's one thing he's doing is parenting and annoying the guy.
♡ Now, onto romance, he's a very gentle lover. Soft words, careful caresses, etc etc. When it's just you two alone together, his full attention is on you.
♡ His receiving love language is words of affirmation and physical touch. His giving love language is words of affirmation and quality time.
♡ He blushes easily. If you see each other around a lot (since you'd be hiding your relationship) it'd be hard for him to keep his composure around you. When he was a Padawan, it was way harder to control himself. Now that's he's older, it's gotten easier. His blush starts off pink on his ears and nose and turns red all over his face and neck as it intensifies. But the red only you see, in the comfort of your home.
♡ ^^Though, he's really good at hiding your relationship. Aside from the easy blushes, he's real good at hiding it. He puts distance in public, treats you like everyone else, etc etc. And if anyone asks, you're good friends and that's it.
♡ He's a big jokester in your relationship. In private, he'll poke your sides to tickle you or tickle your neck with his beard. He picks you up randomly sometimes. He tells jokes to cheer you up (and they're always successful).
♡ His favorite place to kiss you is your lips and neck. He's big on intimacy, and those are the most intimate places. Occasionally, he also kisses your shoulder and the top of your hand. His favroite place to be kissed is his lips and his mole under his right eye. Again, it's the intimacy of it all.
♡ He loves eye contact. It doesn't matter what you're doing or talking about, his eyes are always on yours. If you're that type of shy that can't handle eye contact, he doesn't force you to hold it but he will find it cute.
♡ He likes it when you ask for his opinion on your appearance/outfit. If your hair looks nice, if the colors on your outfit clash or not, which accessories go with the outfit, etc etc. And he will be honest. Not like rudely honest ofc but if there's an issue, he's pointing it. And he will be sat down, all sassy, with a leg over the other as he points stuff out and critiques #serve.
♡ You two don't live together because of the whole "keeping your relationship a secret" thing. But you do have stuff at eachothers' house. In your home, you have an extra of all of his necessities: toothbrush, clothes, pajamas, underwear, shoes, etc. And he has the same for you in his house.
♡ ^^You have sleepovers all the time. You two are practically living in two houses at the same time.
♡ Nobody knows about your relationship, and he and you both make sure of it. He knows about Anakin and Padmé (they don't hide it well), but he won't reveal his relationship to them either. He thinks it's better that way.
♡ ^^(Anakin knows about your relationship and Obi-Wan knows about his, they just act like they don't)
♡ Onto NSFW stuff, he's a softdom through and through. He puts your pleasure above his and focuses just on you.
♡ He can only mainly enjoy sex if he's looking at your face. He always chooses positions like missionary and cowgirl because he can look at you easily. It's the intimacy of it.
♡ ^^He also likes taking you from behind, but standing straight, your back against his chest, so you can look back and look at eachother like that. Very rarely, he takes you in doggystyle. But he likes it just as much as looking into your eyes.
♡ He's so good at dirty talk like it's effortless. He whispers them in your ear and against your lips. It's all praise and direction. And if you admit you like his voice, he'd do it more often and it'd boost his ego lowkey.
♡ He's an ass guy. Don't get it wrong, he loves your boobs and watching them move while he fucks you, but he finds himself staring at your ass more. You could be cooking or doing whatever– you and him being the only ones in the house–, and he'd smack or pat your ass as he walks by.
♡ He doesn't really like it when you suck him off. It feels vulgar, and it gives him like a power trip that he doesn't want to have. As if you're serving him. He prefers to eat you out, since he's there to focus on you and your pleasure only.
♡ He never has unprotected sex; it's always with a condom on. He doesn't want to risk a baby. He's already risking it with you, it's going to be way worse with a baby. An accident (unprotected sex) has happened once or twice, and he was stressed tf out every time afterwards.
♡ In the beginning, he would never have sex with you if either of you were drunk or even tipsy. But yk, passion is passion, and it happens every once in a while. You always tell him it's no biggie, but he really doesn't want to take advantage of you.
♡ He loves mutual masterbation. It's the only time he'll actually jerk off: right in front of you while you touch yourself too.
Warnings: takes place near the end of PM, slight angst, maybe ooc, fluff, bittersweet ending, feelings, sex mentioned a little, readers stubborn
Summary: You and your secret boyfriend have been going out for who knows how long now. All of those years, all a secret, because he's a Jedi in training. And now that he's just about to finish and be an official Jedi, he's a mess. He's torn between his love for you... and being a Jedi. And there's only one idea that popped into his mind that just might work.
♬: Culpable o No - Luis Miguel
A/N: sorry if not lore accurate in any way . ̯.
You and your lover are sitting on his bed, in his private quarters. You two are in a deep kiss, your hands cupping eachothers faces. Your tongues dance in your mouth. Your hands hold the sides of his face, your left hand on the Padawan braid tucked behind his ear.
Your hands move down to his shoulders, pulling him closer. His arms wrap around your waist. He holds onto you tightly, the kiss growing desperate. His kisses trail down to your neck. Your head luls back, your body leaning back. He towers over you, kissing your neck and collarbone. You sigh out of pleasure, holding onto his robes tightly.
"I love you..." he whispers into your neck.
"I love you more..." you gasp out.
He lets you fall against the mattress. His kisses go back to your lips, going back to making out with you. He pulls you up and wraps his arms around your neck. You wrap your arms around his middle, holding onto his robes.
You two pull away. He holds onto your shoulders as both of you pant. You smile and cup his cheek with your hand.
"Obi-Wan..."
He straightens you up and straightens himself up. He looks at you, holding eye contact with you. Obi-Wan's hand scoots closer to yours until it rests above yours. You move your hand to interlink your fingers. He holds your hand tightly. You rest your head on his shoulder, looking out at the view outside of the window in front of you. The two of you sit in silence for a little, still panting from the kiss.
"Tomorrow is the day."
"Hm?"
"The Knighting Ceremony."
"Oh."
The Knighting Ceremony. The ceremony that will declare Obi-Wan an official Jedi Knight. The ceremony where he has to take his vows to the order. The ceremony that puts an end to your relationship.
"Well, I'm happy for you," you smile and look up at him.
"Thank you," he gives a small smile back.
You can tell his happiness was bittersweet. On one hand, this is a huge achievement; everything he's worked for has brought him to this moment. On the other hand, that achievement means he can't love you anymore– and it's also saddening that his master won't be there to attend his ceremony.
"... and my Master's funeral."
"Yeah... I'm sorry."
He looks forward, his hand fidgeting nervously with his braid. It's was a bittersweet moment, all right. He looks at his face, noticing the sadness in his eyes. Noticing the tears he's trying so hard not to let fall.
You look forward again, your head still on his shoulder. Your other arm comes around and holds onto the arm that connects to your holding hands.
"So... this is our last day together, right?" You break the silence.
"Please. Don't."
"I'm right, aren't I?"
You look up at him, and he looks to the side, away from you. He wipes his tears. With his free hand, he covers his mouth, thinking.
"I really..." he coughs and takes his hand away from his mouth, "really wish you were not."
He finally looks at you. You both have sadness in your eyes. With his free hand, he gently cups your chin, his thumb caressing your chin. He just stares at you for a couple of seconds, still panting from the earlier make-out session.
Obi-Wan's face and the tips of his ears are pink, his eyes full of love and sadness, and his lips plump from the kisses. You share the same state as him; flushed, eyes full of love and sadness, and lips plump.
Obi-Wan stands up slowly, pulling you up with him and walking slowly to the window. Your eyes stay locked on each other, ignoring the view. Your eyes flicker down to his lips once, and he steps forward, pressing his lips against yours. His arms wrap around your shoulders, his hands gripping onto your robes. He steps back, his shoulder hitting the window. Your hands are holding onto his biceps, leaning against his body.
You break the kiss. His hands trail down your silhouette and rest on your hips. Your hands hold onto his face. Your thumb caresses his cheek.
"...I'm going to miss you."
One of his hands moves up and holds your wrist, the other staying in your hips; his grip on you tighten.
"...I'm going to miss you too... so much..."
You step forward so your chests are pressed against eachother's, your cheek pressing against his shoulder. His arm on your hip wraps fully around your waist, holding tightly. Your hand that isn't caressing his cheek wraps around his shoulder. Your nose presses against the side of his neck. You break the silence.
"I still remember our first kiss."
Obi-Wan sighs at the memory. He presses the cheek that isn't being caressed against your head, the other side of his head hitting the window. He remembers your first kiss all too well. He's been replaying that memory every night leading up to this day– holding tightly onto the feeling of your lips, the intimacy, your scent even. You two were so young... so young and in love.
"I do too."
"Do you remember that night?... the night that I gave myself to you for the first time?"
His breath hitches. Of course he remembers that night, too. Love-wise... it was the best moment of his life. You two waited until his late Master was out of his and Obi-Wan's shared quarters to sneak in. The original plan was just to kiss and talk like you always did, but one thing led to another, and you made love for the first time. He hates that he will never feel that kind of love and intimacy again.
"...I loved that night," he sighs and looks out the window.
"So did I."
Obi-Wan really doesn't want to lose you. He knows deep in his heart that he will never get over you. He knows that there's no way you will ever leave his heart. He leans his head on the window, thinking. To be a Jedi Knight, and reach his dream of being a Jedi Master... he has to let go. But how? Those pretty eyes, soft hands, pretty hair, cheerful laugh, and caring voice will never leave his mind. But he has to try something.
You're gently playing with the collar of his robes when he gently pulls you away from him and stops leaning against the window. His hands are on your shoulders, yours now on his biceps. Obi-Wan pulls you in, kissing you again. The kiss deepens fast, his hand on the back of your head. The kiss is desperate and full of love, which you happily reciprocate.
The kiss goes on for ages. When you try to pull away to breathe, he only lets you go for a second to inhale and pulls you back in for the kiss. Finally, he pulls away.
Your head is leaned back, your hands gripping onto his sleeves, panting with a flushed face.
"[Name]."
You straighten up and look at him in the eyes. Your eyes are droopy and so are his.
He pants, "I need you to do me a favor."
You're confused, but you nod anyway.
This is Obi-Wan's only hope. The only solution he had thought of was the least painful. The only way he thinks he'd be able to live without you. He sighs shakily.
He pulls you in by the shoulders again, kissing you. This kiss was less intense than the last one. This kiss was more gentle and slow. He pulls away just enough to talk.
"...lie to me."
That confused you even more. Before you can question him, he kisses you again. His eyes stay half open as he kisses you, never once taking his eyes off of you.
"Lie to me, [Name]."
"Wha-"
He kisses you again and again until you finally pull away for good, looking at him with your brows frowned, confused.
"Obi?... lie to you?"
There was a pause before he speaks, his eyes begging. "Lie to me. Say you don't love me."
"What?"
"That is the only way I can forget about this... love I feel for you. Tell me you don't love me so I can forget you."
You're silent for a couple of seconds. "I... I can't."
He trails his hands down to your biceps, squeezing tightly. He sighs shakily. You know he doesn't want you to do it. But you have to. He has to get over you. But breaking his heart like this is something you can't do. Too bad you're both stubborn.
"[Name] please."
"I can't lie to you. It's no use when you know it's a lie. When you know I love you-"
"Don't."
He looks more and more anguished. His eyes are glossed over just a little bit more than before.
"Obi-Wan, I can't lie to you."
"You have to. I can't love you. You need to lie to me. Trust me, [Name], this is the best solution for the both of us."
"It's no use. You'll know I'm lying to you."
"Try."
"No. I'm not lying to you, Obi. I love you."
"I love you too... but I can't."
You step forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates the kiss. His kisses are back to desperate. He grips onto you tightly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
"Lie to me..." he practically begs against your lips.
"No," you kiss more, "I love you."
Obi-Wan frowns for just a second before he focuses back on the kiss.
"Please... lie to me... make me believe you don't love me."
"Never."
The kiss continues until he pulls away, your lips less than an inch apart.
"Lie to me, [Name], lie to me..."
"I won't." You lean in, kissing him again.
Obi-Wan kisses back for only a second before pulling back, his hands landing on your shoulders. He looks at you blankly for a couple of seconds.
"I beg of you..."
"I'm not doing it."
"I have to forget about you."
"I'm not lying to you. My final words to you won't be lies. Do you think it'll be easier if I said I hated you, that I used you, and I never loved you? Do you seriously think that? Even if I lied and you believed it... you don't have the heart to forget about me. You don't have the heart that holds grudges or hate. Lying won't heal anything so stop asking me to."
He doesn't answer. He just pants from the kisses. Obi-Wan steps forward, wrapping his arms around your torso. You hold onto his biceps.
"You're right," he speaks softly and gets his face closer to yours. "It's no use..."
You lean forward and kiss him, which he, of course, immediately reciprocates. The kiss was longing and desperate– more than the other times. Obi-Wan takes his arms off of you, and his hands move to cup your face. Your hands hold onto his wrists as you kiss.
"I just..." he whispers against your lips, "...want to spend my last moment with you... against your lips..."
"Just kiss me... don't think about anything else..."
He does just that. In his head, while he kisses you, the rest of the room disapears. The past disappears; the future disappears. Everything but you and him disappears. Your kiss continues for another long time, only pulling away for a second to inhale, then going right back to eachothers lips.
His hands grip onto you desperately, like he fears letting you go. He dreads letting you go back to your home. He dreads saying goodbye to you. He dreads being alone again, with no one to come home to again. You used to stay in his quarters while he was away, just to be there for when he came home. And before you, he had Qui-gon to come home too. He knows it won't be for too long; it won't be long until Anakin is his Padawan, and they share quarters. But there will be no more you.
♡...
You've spent the entire afternoon together. Talking– like always– and kissing. A lot of kissing and touching. More than usual. And it's nighttime now. You should be getting home soon, but you dont want to. And by the grip Obi-Wan has on you, he doesn't want to let you go either.
You're back on his bed, laying down with your head against his pillows. Obi-Wan towers above you, his hands propping himself up with his hands on either side on your head. Your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck as you two kiss. He then trails his kisses down the middle of your neck and the dip that connects your collarbones, then does back up to kiss your lips.
After a long while, he finally pulls away from you. His forehead rests against you. You smile softly, and he sighs shakily. He pulls away from you slowly, looking down at you. You look so beautiful to him. Your hair is scattered on his pillow, face flushed, lips plump from the kisses, your clothes slightly messed up from the intensity of the kisses, and your eyes are full of love but have a hint of sadness in them.
"I love you, Obi-Wan..."
"...I love you, [Name]."
"I need to go soon."
His hands grip onto the bedsheets next to you. God, he does not want to let you go. Obi-Wan just stares at you, trying to memorize how you look. The possible last time he will have you like this.
"Now?"
You look over to the clock on his nightstand. It's 10 p.m..
"Yeah... It's pretty late."
"May I have just... one last kiss?"
You smile and wrap your arms tighter around him, pulling him closer. Your lips connect softly. His hand cups your cheek as you kiss longingly. He pulls away, just enough to speak.
"Let me walk you to the door."
"Okay," you smile softly.
Obi-Wan gets off of you, and you sit up. You stretch, your arms above your head. You groan with your eyes closed as you stretch. Obi-Wan smiles and pokes your side suddenly. You let out a squeak and sheild yourself. You hit his arm as he giggles.
"Mean," you jokingly frown.
He leans forward and pecks your lips a couple of times with a hand cupping your cheek. His thumb caresses your cheek. He sighs and stands up, giving you a hand to hop off his bed. He holds your hand, walking you to the door. He stops right in front of the door.
He cups your cheeks with his hands and leans in and kisses you. You kiss him back, your hands gently on his hips. You two pull away after a good minute of kissing. You're both panting, and you're the first to speak.
"...Will I ever see you again?"
"I will do my best, my love."
You lean your forehead on his, closing your eyes. His eyes stay open, focused on you.
"I love you, Obi-Wan... goodbye..."
You look up at him, your eyes getting wet with tears. His eyes tear up as well. He purses his lips and steps forward. He wraps his arms around your neck tightly, nuzzling his face between the side of your head and his arm. You wrap your arms around his upper torso, your hands gripping onto your robes tightly. You inhale shakingly.
The hug lasts for what feels like forever before he pulls away hesitantly. He stares down at you for a while before speaking.
"Goodbye, [Name]... I love you."
You open the door slowly but don't leave yet. Your eyes stare into his, like you're both trying to memorize yourselves. Obi-Wan's hands grip onto your sleeves as you slowly slip away from him and step out of the door. You hiccup a little, holding back tears. He's holding back tears, too.
"I love you," with a shaky hand, you blow him a kiss, a sad smile on your face. "Congratulations and... I send my condolences..."
"...I love you... and thank you."
You hold your hands together tightly. You look at the floor and, without another word, turning and walking down the hallway to leave.
Obi-Wan gently closes his door and leans his head on the door. He lets out a shaky sob and straightens up. With one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth, he walks away from the door and sits on his bed.
He lays on the bed and grabs the pillow you were once laying on and hugs it. His bed has your scent. His room still has some little items you left behind. His clothes still have your scent. His skin still has your touch. He already misses you, your hugs, your kisses.
Obi-Wan holds the pillow tightly. His eyes close. He invasions tomorrow. He has to cut his own braid... he has to attend an early funeral. But on the other hand, he's becoming a Jedi Knight– the one thing he's worked towards literally his entire life.
He shoves his nose into the pillow, smelling the scent that you left behind.
"Goodnight, my love..." he whispers to himself.
Obi-Wan doesn't know whether to pray that you two can meet again– kiss again, hug again, touch again– or that you two never meet again– for yours and his sake. He falls asleep, clinging onto your scent and the hope to see you and kiss you again.
If it's wrong to love you... then my heart just won't let me be right ♡♡
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars), f!reader
Warnings: takes place between AOTC and ROTS, aftercare, sex talk but no smut, drinking, nudity, dirty talk, fluff, tipsy, readers a lightweight (Obi-Wan is not), reader gets picked up
Summary: After many rounds of... lovemaking... with your lover, he subjects you to a night of love, care, joking around, and drinks. Which you gladly participate in, no matter how much you know you and him are going to regret staying up this late in the morning. Especially him.
♬: My All - Mariah Carey
A/N: a pt 2 to this
You're on your back, laying against the mattress with pillows under your head. Your lover, Obi-Wan, is above you, his chest pressing against yours, sandwiching your body between his body and the mattress. His arms are under you, wrapping around your waist. Your arms wrap around his neck loosely.
You two kiss, panting. Your tongues dance together in a needy kiss, both of you moaning softly into the kiss. He pulls away and kisses down your neck. You stretch your arms, arching your back. You let out a little moan– from both Obi-Wan's kisses and the stretch.
"Tired, my darling?"
"Mhmm... you were so good to me."
"When am I not?"
You let out a giggle. He props himself up to look down at you. One of his hands goes down and holds onto your hips, rubbing it slowly.
"What do you want first, darling? A bath, a treat, more of my kisses?"
"Hmmmmm... let me think..." you feign thinking. You play with his hair, getting closer to his face. "I want more of your kisses..."
Without another word, he leans in, capturing your lips again in a kiss. Obi-Wan's hand trails down from your hip to your ass, kneading it softly. His touches and kisses continue for what feels like hours. You comb your fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Your heels dig into his lower back. Your hand trails down onto his back, tracing the red lines made by your nails earlier.
He pecks one last kiss on your lips, then trail his lips to the corner of your lips, cheek, and cheekbone. He presses his nose against yours.
"Would you like a bath, my sweet?"
"Mhm... with you?"
"Would you like it with me?"
"Very."
Obi-Wan gets up and stands next to the bed. He groans as he gets up and stretches. You shift so you lay on your side, looking up at his body. His fit, sweaty body. You reach forward, gently taking the condom off his dick with one hand. You toss into the trash by your bed. He walks over to a drawer, pulling out a towel and wrapping it around his waist loosely, low enough to see the V line.
"Nice ass," you grin up at him.
"Language, naughty girl," he grins back at you.
You lay on your back again. He leans forward and grabs your wrists, pulling you to sit up.
Obi-Wan scoops you up, one arm on your upper back and the other under your inner knees. He presses a kiss on your cheekbone and starts walking to the bathroom.
He sets you down on the bathroom counter and turns around, bending down to turn on the bath. You lean back slightly and look at the red lines down his lightly toned back and the towel around his waist. You get a cheesy smile on your face and kick your leg forward, hitting his rear with your foot.
Obi-Wan immediately tenses and turns around, looking at you shocked and putting a hand on where you hit. You giggle and he charges at you, poking your sides and kissing your neck, tickling you lightly.
"You little..."
You squirm and laugh in his grasp.
"Hey-" you giggle and Obi-Wan stops, looking down at you. "How come you get a towel, and I'm still naked?"
"Would you prefer me nude or a towel to cover yourself?"
"Hmmmm... I prefer you nude."
"You are a perverted woman," he leans in and kisses the crook of your neck.
"You're the one ogling at me."
"Ogling?!" He pulls away and looks at you.
"Ogling."
"Hey! I am a gentleman. I do not ogle."
You lean back against the mirror behind you, crossing your arms and pushing up your boobs with your arms. "Then what are you doing right now?"
He sneaks a couple glances shamelessly at your chest. "Admiring, pervert."
"You're ogling!" You point at him accusingly.
"Oh my goodness! My apologies, your majesty. Right this instant, I will gouge my eyes out with spoons so I dont ogle anymore."
You roll your eyes and slump back against the mirror. "You think you're so funny."
"Hilarious."
He leans in and kisses you softly, one hand cupping your cheek. The mirror steams up quickly from the heat of the water being poured into the bath. Your hands pay with his hair while his hands hold your naked hips gently. By the time he pulls away, the water has filled half of the tub.
"Can you get in the bath with me?"
"Of course," he kisses you again.
"Can you... get us some drinks while I prep the bath."
"Oh, of course," he smiles and pats your thigh and pulls away from you.
You hop off the counter and go into a drawer, pulling out two small jars of oils. One hand holds the jars, and the other turns off the water. You pour some of the oils into the water, occasionally stirring the water, straightening back up and pouring some more until you think it's perfect.
Obi-Wan walks in, two wine glasses and a bottle in his hands. He leans in and kisses your cheek, then jawline, then neck.
"Is the bath prepared?"
"Mhm."
"Could you ready our drinks while I try out the water?"
"Mhm," you take the glasses and bottle from his hands.
You turn around to face the mirror, setting the cups down and pouring glowing pink liquid into the cups until they reach halfway. Obi-Wan takes off his towel, and through the mirror's reflection, you look at his now naked body with a small smile on your face.
"Oh, but I'm ogling?"
He reaches over and smacks your ass lightly, and gets into the water.
"Ow! Obi." You giggle.
You give him his glass, and he thanks you, holding it while resting it against the tub's edge.
You step into the tub with your glass in hand. Obi-Wan rests his hand on your hip and he opens his legs for you to sit. You teasingly bend down and sit between his legs, his eyes glued to your ass.
"Oh! I forgot the bottle."
You set your glass on the floor and stand back up, just as teasingly as you sat down. You step out and grab the bottle, and move it from the counter to the floor by the tub. You sit down again between his legs. You grab your glass and snuggle against his chest. His arm wraps around your middle, right under your boobs, while the other rests on the tubs edge, glass in hand. He leans down, his lips next to your ear.
"You did that stunt on purpose."
"And did."
He lets out a cackle and kisses your head. "You're a beauty."
You take a sip of the bright pink beverage. "So are you."
"Mmm." He takes a sip next, "Not as much as you."
You snuggle closer to him and tilt your head, leaning the back of your head on his shoulder. Your arm rests over his arm, your fingers interlocking with his, your palm on the back of his hand. Obi-Wan rests his head against yours. Your eyes close.
The steam of the warm water blurs the mirror and smoothers you two in warmth. Cold droplets from the outside of your glass drop into the water. There's oil bubbles with pink and orange hues on the surface of the water. Your knees peak out of the water. The bathroom is filled with the smell of roses and fruits from the oils in the water. Obi-Wan squeezes your side ever so often. You and Obi-Wan take a sip of your drinks. He presses his cheek against yours, his beard tickling you a little. The steam of the water dampens both of your hair.
"...your presence gets me more drunk than any beverage ever will," he whispers.
"Cheesy," you giggle and drink more of your drink.
"I prefer the term... passionate," he kisses your cheek, "...in love," he kisses your jawline.
"Mmm... I love you."
"I love you too," he kisses your cheek again.
He takes a sip of his drink. A couple of minutes of silence pass, the only sound being your and his breathing, the occasional sipping of your drinks, and water movements.
"You know, [Name]..." he whispers, "... I can take you again right here."
"I'm still sore, Obi."
"Poor baby."
He kisses the crook of your neck and shoulder. He takes the last sip of his drink while you still have some left.
"Can you hold my glass, darling?"
"Mhm."
You let go of his hand under the water and hold his glass. He pops open the bottle, pouring another half-glass into the glass. He sets the bottle down and grabs his drink, and goes back into the position you two were in before. You two giggle as you get comfortable and drink the last bit of your drink. You throw your head back and look up at you. Obi-Wan leans in slowly and captures your lips in a kiss. Your kiss lasts for what feels like forever. You smile and set your empty glass on the floor by the bottle.
"...you felt so good earlier," your lips are inches apart.
"Yeah?"
You grin, looking from his lips to his eyes. "Very good... you're always so deep."
His face turns pink. "Such vulgarity."
"The way you move is vulgar... but so good."
"Dirty girl..."
He leans in and kisses you again. Your eyes close as you two make out. Obi-Wan's eyes stay half lidded, not taking his eyes off you. He looks over at your knees, peaking out of the water. They close tightly, your thighs tense.
He pulls away slowly, his eyes looking down at you as you open your eyes slowly.
"...I clearly remember you saying you were sore," he teases and motions to your thighs pressing together with his head.
"I am sore... you just get me worked up," you pause, "Can you fill up my glass for me?"
"Mhm."
You hold onto his glass while he pours more of the drink into your glass. You look to see if he's looking away, and when you confirm it, you drink some of his drink. Obi-Wan sets the bottle down, your now half full glass in hand. He looks over at you and gasps. He snatches his cup from your hands.
"[Name]!"
He gives you your drink. Obi-Wan kisses your neck and squeezes your sides, tickling you. You laugh and squirm.
"You have serious problems regarding beverages."
"Obi! Stop!-"
"You little thief," he laughs with you. He stops tickling you after a while.
"I don't have problems." You look up at him.
He pecks your lips. You snuggle behind him again. You two drink some more, in silence. You stare at your glass while Obi-Wan stares down at you. His knees poke out of the water, on either side of yours. Under the water, you wrap your calf around his– your inner ankle pressed against his outer ankle. The right side of his face presses against the left side of yours, your arms still overlapping with his under your boobs.
After a couple of minutes, Obi-Wan finishes his drink again, and you're halfway done with yours.
"Obi?"
"Darling."
"I'm hungry."
"Yeah? Once we rinse off, we can have a late dinner."
"I want to go to that one Diner."
"It is most probably closed. We can make dinner ourselves."
You groan, nuzzling yourself closer to him.
"You're tipsy, aren't you?"
"A little," you sip your drink.
"A little," he mocks and laughs. He takes a sip of his drink.
You look up at him. Obi-Wan looks down at you, smiling, and pecks your lips. Every time you look up at him, he immediately feels the need to kiss you. Actually, every time you're more than five inches close to his face, he feels the need to kiss you.
♡...
You've been in the bath for who knows how long, and both of you have collectively finished the entire bottle– your empty glasses on the floor next to the emoty bottle. Your fingers are wrinkly, still under the now lukewarm water, intertwined with Obi-Wan's, both of his arms now around you. You're about to fall asleep, your eyes half-lidded and your head leaning back against his shoulder. Obi-Wan is more awake than you.
"Don't fall asleep yet. We need to rinse off before hitting the hay."
"Mmm..."
"Come on. Let's get up, love. I'll help you rinse off."
"Okay..."
You stand up slowly, your legs giving out a little from sitting on marble for who knows how long. Obi-Wan gets up with a groan. He steps out of the bath, putting his towel around his waist again while you hold onto the wall. He wraps another towel around your shoulders, picks you up by your waist, and takes you out of the bath. You suddenly slip, clinging onto his arms as he catches you before you can get hurt. You let out a "woa!" and laugh. Obi-Wan laughs along, kissing your cheeks.
"Careful, baby deer."
You move over to the counter, holding onto the towel covering your body. You hop onto the counter as Obi-Wan leans down, pulling the drain out to drain out the bath water. He turns around to look at you. You're slumped against the mirror behind you, looking at him.
"You're sexy," you pull yourself off the mirror.
He lets out a small laugh and walks to you, putting his hands on your hips. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss. He pulls away and stares at you silently.
"You are stunning..."
"So are you," you lean in and kiss him again.
Your hair is damp from the steam of the water, your face a little flushed, eyes drooping, lips plump from the amount of kissing, water droplets covering your entire body, and your scent being that of the oils and the beverage.
His hair is damp from the steam of the water, droplets falling off of his beard, his face much more flushed than yours– he almost always gets red when he's around you– his pupils dilated, your smell being the same as yours, and water covering his toned body.
You two pull away when the sound of the last bit of water drains out of the bathtub, and Obi-Wan turns around. He turns on the shower head and turns back to you.
"Come here."
He picks you up off the counter and takes off your towel, then he takes his off.
You two hop into the shower together. Once inside, he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you under the warm water.
"I love you... my dear... I love you..."
He mutters many "i love you"s as you kiss. His arms are around your waist. One of your hands is on his bicep and the other cups his cheek.
After a couple of minutes of kissing, you two finally pull apart. Obi-Wan turns you around to face away from the showerhead. He kisses your neck a couple of times. He pours some shampoo into his hands and rubs it into your hair. He throughly washes your hair gently. Next, he puts some bodywash on a loofa. He washes your body just as gently as he washed your hair. At this point, you're falling asleep, struggling to keep your eyes open. You were already tired after sex, and the alcohol and how late it was added onto that exhaustion.
Once you were cleaned, it was his turn. You pour some shampoo into your hands and rub it into his hair. Obi-Wan bends down a little so you can comfortably wash his hair. His eyes stare at your face the entire time, looking enamored. Once his hair is washed, you put some bodywash on the other loofu. You gently wash his body, making sure to get to his beard too.
"I should be the one pampering you," he finally speaks.
"You've had your turn. Now it's mine."
You rinse him down, and now both of you are clean. Obi-Wan gets out first and gives you a hand so you can get out. Side by side, you two dry your hair– putting yours in a towel– and brush your teeth. He ties his towel around his waist again, and you tie yours under your armpits.
Obi-Wan intertwines his fingers with yours and starts heading out of the bathroom but you don't move. He looks over at you.
"Carry me?"
"Of course. To the kitchen or the bedroom?"
"Bedroom. I'm more tired than hungry now."
"At your orders, your majesty," he smiles teasingly.
He picks you up, one arm under your inner knees and the other on your upper back, with a tired groan. He carries you to the bedroom, carefully setting you on the bed.
Obi-Wan looks over to the click on the nightstand. 1 a.m. He cringes and lets out a "oof".
"What's wrong?"
"It is terribly late," he steps away, going to a drawer in your closet where you keep some clothes for him. "I am expected early tomorrow morning, and I'm intoxicated at one in the morning. This is so irresponsible of me."
You hum, cuddled up on top of the blanket, not bothering to take off the towel.
"You are expected too, you know? And you're more out of it than me."
He crawls into bed under your sheets. You look at him with half lidded eyes. "Oh, please. We've done this many times before, and we survived each time..."
You sit up and take off the towel, leaving you naked. You snuggle under the blankets and get close to him. He wraps his arms around you. He looks down at you.
"I'm going to be a zombie tomorrow," he snuggles close to you.
You giggle and kiss his shoulder. His chin presses against the towel around your head.
"Goodnight, Obi..." you quickly doze off to sleep.
"Goodnight, my dear," he smiles tiredly and quickly dozes off, too.
The two of you sleep peacefully, ignoring the awaiting headache and horrible hangover you two are going to have in the morning.
Warnings: takes place during the Obi-Wan series, slight PTSD and paranoia, angst, fluff, comfort,
Summary: Your lover always has nightmares of what happened years ago– the ending of the Jedis. He always has these nightmares. He can never have a good night's rest. You could tell by the circles under his eyes and the way they droop that he's mentally and physically exhausted. You always comfort him. When he's awake at night, silently crying or panting over the memories, you're always there to comfort him. And tonight is no different.
♬: Paloma Ajena - Claudío Morán
A/N: i love my husband
With a gasp, he awakes.
After minutes go by of Obi-Wan thrashing in his sleep, muttering gibberish under his breath, he finally wakes up.
Another stupid nightmare. So many flashbacks to that day when his life changed so suddenly. The vision of leaving Anakin to die, all the dead bodies, the younglings, the armies coming after him, the amount of near death experiences, Padmé's death... they all come to him every night, haunting him. Oh, how he wished he could just forget and live a secret life in peace. But he's plagued. He can't get a full night's rest. Naps he can take, but it's like once he's out for more than four hours, all the memories come flooding his mind.
He pants, looking around in a panick in the darkness– the only light being a lamp by the mattress you share on the sand– of the cave you two hide out in. He holds onto his chest, attempting to get back into the present and out of the past that haunts his dreams.
He looks to his side, expecting to find your sleeping form. Instead, he finds you sitting up, looking at him worriedly. He jumps slightly, his panicked panting continuing.
"My love..." With a shaking hand, he cups your cheek, "did I wake you?"
You lean into his touch. "Yea. But it's okay." You smile, holding his hand against your cheek with your own hands.
The panick in his eyes subsides slightly, but you can still see it. That panick in his eye will always be there. You both knew it. But looking at you, they soften. You gently take his hand off your cheek and instead place a hand on his cheek. And just like you did to his, he leans against your touch.
"...another nightmare?"
Tears weld into his eyes as he looks away. You wipe his tears away before they can fall with your thumb.
"Another nightmare," he confirms.
"...my love..."
You run your fingers through his hair softly. He looks sadly into your eyes, still shaking, his nightmare still craved into his brain. A couple of seconds of silence pass by. Obi-Wan just... stares at you. Your eyes are worried but tired, your hair is a mess from sleeping, the loose shirt you wear to bed hangs off your shoulder loosely. You hold onto the sides of his head, looking deep into his lightly colored eyes.
"It's over, Obi. It-"
"It's not over, [Name]..." he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours. He whispers, "It's not over until all Jedi are exterminated..." he gently cups your cheek, "...me included."
You stay silent. He's right. It's not over until they're all dead. Including him.
"No matter what happens... we will be okay. I know it. We'll be okay."
He lets out a shaky breath at your words.
"We'll be okay. Tell me, baby... what are you worried about?"
"They will bring you harm... and me harm. And... and them harm."
Ah. Them. Luke and Leia. The little boy whom he watches over from afar, and the little girl who lives as a princess, far far away. You know how much they and you mean to him.
"They won't be harmed."
"I do wish I could believe you."
"One day... you will." You pause. "I hate to see you this way."
Obi-Wan pulls away, looking at you in the eyes. He slowly looks down and away from you.
"Pity?"
"Worry." You make him look at you. Tears weld in your eyes. "I hate to see you... so in peices. I wish I could help you..."
He silently rests his forehead on yours again. He drops his head down to your shoulder. Your arms wrap around his neck, and his arms weakly wrap around your waist. It's silent for a while until you speak.
"...it's not your fault."
Silence.
He looks up at you from your shoulder. "What?"
"I know you blame yourself, Obi-Wan. It's not your fault he turned out the way he did. Anakin is not your failure."
"I did fail him," he burries his face into your shoulder again, "I have failed him greatly. It is as if... he's haunting me. He's making me pay for what I have turned him into." He holds onto your top tighter.
"You didn't turn him into anything. It's not your fault he fell into the darkside."
"I trained him–"
"And you trained him perfectly... just like you promised Qui-gon. And you did great. It's no one's fault but his own for his decisions."
At the mention of Qui-gon, his grip on your top tightens even more. You hug him tighter. One of your hands trails up into his hair, holding him against you tightly. He shakes under your hold. You press your cheek against his head.
"None of this was your fault. There's nothing you could have done to change fate, Obi."
"How I wish I could..."
"I wish it too... I can't even imagine what your nightmares are made of... my love...."
You run your fingers through his hair, your nails massaging his scalp. The inner ends of his eyebrows curl up as he melts into your touch. Tears stream down his face and onto your shirt.
"I'm right here, Obi-Wan, I'm right here," you rub his back, "I'll always be right here."
Obi-Wan pulls himself up and looks at you.
"And I for you, my dear."
You smile softly at him and wipe away his tears.
"But I must say," he cups your face, "you don't look so swell either."
He was right. He wasn't the only one with nightmares. You had a couple of your own from that day. You never reached out for comfort from Obi-Wan, though. He already had a lot on his plate; you didn't want to worry him more. You'd cry at night many times. But what you witnessed– your memories– don't hold a candlelight to what you can only imagine is Obi-Wan's memories. But he knows you'll have your own nightmares. He knows why you won't tell him. Finally, tonight is the night he finally confronts you.
"I'm fine."
"Don't lie to me. Your eyes are red."
"...I had nightmares too."
He brings you closer to his face. "Why haven't you been telling me?"
You hold onto his wrists. "Look at you, Obi... there's no room for me to lay my troubles on. And I'm fine. I don't need you to worry about me."
"You comfort me every single night when these... nightmares... haunt me. I want to help you too, my darling."
Your eyes water. He wipes your tears with his thumb, looking at your face silently.
"I don't want to tell you tonight. I'll tell you all about it when the time is right... but look at you... your eyes are still panicked, you're still shaking... you are in no shape to comfort right now."
He slowly nods, his breath starting to steady. "I will wait then."
Suddenly, you two hear a loud noise. A box of metal parts must've fallen from the table in the cave. Both of you jump and look at the area of the source of the noise. Obi-Wan tenses up heavily, the panting coming back and the panick in his eyes coming back. He immediately wraps his arms around you tightly, almost shielding you. He looks over at the area of the noise, trying to see what it was. Or who it was.
"My love, Obi," you look up at him, holding onto him. Your hand caresses his back in comfort. "There's nothing there. I'm sure something just fell."
Obi-Wan doesn't reply. He's just frozen. Staring at the area. After a hot minute, he places a hand on the back of your head and places the lower half of his face into your messy hair. "I will protect you... I will not fail you as well."
His voice is shaky, matching the tremble of the rest of his body. You look up at him, your lips less than an inch apart, and your foreheads press against each other.
"We're safe, Obi-Wan. We're safe. A box fell. Nothing is going on. Nobody is here."
He just pants, staring into your worried eyes while you look into his panicked ones.
You lower your voice to a soothing whisper. "It's okay... we're okay. We're safe."
Your hand keeps rubbing comforting circles on his back. You can tell it's costing Obi-Wan a lot to calm down. But you have patience with him. You always did.
"Focus on me, Obi-Wan. I'm safe... you're safe... it's okay..."
You lean in and peck his lips. He sighs deeply, trying to focus on you.
"Breathe..."
One of your hands goes to his hair, combing through his locks softly while your other hand continues soothing him. His grip on you doesn't loosen up, his pants don't slow down, the panick in his eyes doesn't leave. You whisper to him to breathe, that you're right there, that you're safe.
Obi-Wan wants to calm down so desperately. But his body is betraying him. He knows you're safe, that it was just a box that fell suddenly, but it's like his body doesn't know it. He shuts his eyes tightly, concentrating on calming down and breathing.
Your eyes stay open, studying his body language. You press a soft kiss on his upper lip.
...♡
Slowly but surely, he calms down. You've been holding him for what you think is an hour or over. It takes more soothing words, caresses, and time for him to finally calm down. His breath is still a little shaky, but the panick in his eyes has faded away, and for the most part, he's not trembling anymore. He looks into your eyes with a much calmer demeanor.
"Thank you, my love."
You smile. "It's no problem, Obi. I'm glad you're okay now."
He smiles weakly. "All thanks to you."
"Mmm... we should try to go back to bed. You always have to get up early for work. I dont want you to be half dead out there."
"...I'm scared."
"Of what, handsome?"
"Of if I close my eyes again... I will fall back into that nightmare."
"I think you won't. And if you do fall, I will be right here to catch you... but you need to sleep," you end your sentence with a peck on the lips.
Obi-Wan just smiles tiredly and leans in, kissing you softly. His hold on you is more loving than earlier; it's no longer protective and fearful, it's gentle and loving.
After a couple seconds of kissing, you pull away with a smile.
"I love you... and I'll always be right here for you," you peck his lips.
"I love you so much, [Name]. So, so much..."
"Now, it's bedtime."
Obi-Wan looks out the opening of the cave entrance into the sky. It's how he tells the time without using a watch; the sky and the stars.
"I have approximately... three hours before I have to get to the station."
"Well, time to hit the hay, mister," you peck his lips, "you need your energy."
Obi-Wan gets comfortable under the thin sheets with you. You hug his head so it's resting on your chest. His arms wrap around your waist, and your fingers scratch his scalp comfortingly.
"Mmm... your heartbeat sooths me, darling."
"You flatter me," you smile and kiss his head, "goodnight again, love."
"Goodnight. I will see you when I return from the station at dawn."
"Mhm," you kiss his head again, "Don't forget my goodbye kiss. I can tell when you forget it."
"Ahhh, alright. You are heard."
You giggle. "Goodnight, Obi-Wan."
He smiles against your chest. "Goodnight, [Name]."
Warnings: takes place between AOTC and ROTS, comfort, slight angst in the beginning, fluff, playfulness, smut, pwp, oral (f!recieving), gentle sex, piv sex, protected sex (condom use), praise, slight overstimulation, open ending
Summary: Your worried (secret) boyfriend comes to you with his worries about his trainee. You try to best to de-stress him– talking to him, showing him love, making jokes, all of it. When he's finally a bit calmed down, you ask him to stay the night and have some... love time with you. And after a bit of convincing, that's exactly what happens.
♬: Fuera del Planeta - Eloy and Randy Nota Loca
A/N: Obi-Wan makes me feel things that are close to a schoolgirl crush
"Everyone– me included– senses great fear in the young boy. It's... worrisome."
Obi-Wan sits on the couch of your apartment, elbows on his knees with his hands holding the bottom of his face. His eyebrows are frowned in concentration.
The young boy in question is very obliviously, Anakin, his trainee. Obi-Wan doesn't speak this much of his worries to the council. They already have a sliver of distrust with Anakin. He doesn't want to grow the distrust. But who he does speak his worries to is you. His lover.
You walk in from the kitchen, holding two cups of pear juice in your hands. You sit next to him, your knee touching his, and hand him one of the cups. Obi-Wan lets go of his face and gently grabs the cup from your hands, looking at you with his troubled eyes.
"Thank you," his mouth twitches up in a small smile and takes a sip of the juice.
You set your cup down on the coffetable, turning your body towards him. "Everyone holds some fear, Obi. Just like happiness and sadness, it's an emotion we can't help."
Your hand rubs his upper back in comfort. Obi-Wan holds the cup with both hands and looks at you.
"Fear is the most dangerous emotion, [Name]. Especially for the Jedis."
"...I know." You pause. "But what you're experiencing now is also fear."
He sighs and looks forward, away from you. "That I am."
"Have confidence in Anakin. I have faith that the Chosen One won't let the Jedis down."
"I do have faith, as well as confidence. An astonishing amount."
You smile. "I know."
You rest your chin on his shoulder, looking up at him. He looks down at you. A soft smile appears on both of your faces as you stare at eachother.
"You and Anakin are fine. Now stop worrying or you'll go grey." You point to the small portion of hair near his temple that is indeed turning grey.
You sit straight but keep your eyes on him. Obi-Wan puts on a mock offensive look on his face.
"Grey?!"
You laugh at his reaction, laying your hand and forehead on his shoulder. His hand subconsciously sits on your back. Obi-Wan let's out a scoff, but the offensive look stays.
"I'm 37! I'm not greying yet!"
You look up and put your chin on his shoulder, still giggly. "Yeah, yet."
"[Name]!"
You giggle and lean in, pecking his lips softly. "You'd still look handsome with grey hair."
"Yeah? You'd enjoy me the same as a silver fox?"
You nod and peck his lips again. "I'd love you in every form."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Would you love me as a "silver fox"?"
"Oh, please. It is beneath me to call a woman a fox." He grins
You roll your eyes and chuckle. "You know what I meant."
"Uhuh?" He chuckles and scoots closer.
Obi-Wan cups your face gently, moving in slowly, as he always does. He always moves slowly, cautiously when he's going to kiss you. He moves like someone handling a small, timid animal. Just in case you want to reject him and pull away, he wants to give you time for it. But you never do.
Your lips connect softly, both your eyes closing and your heads turning in opposite directions to kiss better. His hands hold your face, and your hands hold onto his arms.
You two pull away, staring into eachothers eyes.
"...you shouldn't stress so much about Anakin, Obi-Wan," you run your hands through his mullet, "He's a big boy. And with your own words thrown back at you: fear is the most dangerous emotion. Okay?"
"Yes... I understand."
"But at the same time... I'm not undermining your feelings, Obi," you peck his lips, "I know it's hard. And I'll always be here to listen when you worry."
He nods. "Thank you, [Name]."
You lean in and kiss him, your arms around his neck. His arms wrap around your waist as you kiss. The kiss is just as soft as the first one, but it's different. You moved closer faster, more confident. Obi-Wan's kisses are always cautious and calculated, while your kisses are confident and without hesitation. His are slow in case you want to pull away, and yours are fast to show him that in no way would you reject any love from him.
You pull away with a smile. When he sees your smile, a smile comes on his face too.
"I love you, Obi-Wan."
"I love you, [Name]... very much."
"...I wish we didn't have to hide our love."
His arms tighten around your middle. His eyes get sadder, and he kisses his teeth. "Me too."
You open your mouth to say something, but you close it. "How about... instead of talking about sad stuff... you kiss me again?"
Obi-Wan leans slowly towards you. "Say it again."
"How ab-"
"Ah-ah... just the last part, my dear."
You let out a giggle. "Kiss me again."
"What was that?"
"Kiss me again..."
He leans in, just as slowly as he did with the first kiss, and presses his lips against yours. Your lips dance slowly, both of your hands tangled in eachothers hair.
He slowly pushes you back onto the couch, his hands moving down. One hand on the couch under you and the other on your lower back. Your head lays on the couch cushion, Obi-Wan's hands on either side of your head. Your leg is swung over your other leg, and his body towering over yours. He pulls away, looking at you, seemingly in awe. Your hair falls lazily onto the cushion under you.
"Are you going to stay the night tonight?"
He sighs. Sometimes, Obi-Wan stays the night at your apartment. Other times, you stay the night at his apartment. Since you can't live together because of your "affair".
"I don't know if I should, my love..."
"Please?"
Silent passes for a couple seconds.
"...Oh, alright. I will stay... just for you."
You smile and peck his lips. "How about we move the night further?"
"And do what exactly?"
"What do you think?"
He pouts his lips and raises his eyebrows, thinking. "Hankypanky?"
You burst into laughter, covering your mouth. Obi-Wan attempts to bite back laughter but ultimately fails, letting out a cackle.
"What? Was I wrong or right?"
"Don't call it that!" Your laughter slowly dies down. "You cornball."
Obi-Wan leans down, pressing playful kisses on your neck. "So I was correct?"
"Yeah, yeah. You were."
"Then let's move the night forward or whatever you said."
"Here?"
"Oh, of course not. I am a gentleman, I'll have you know."
Obi-Wan sits up straight and puts one arm under your back and the other under your inner knees. He stands up, holding you bridalstyle.
"To the bedroom we go," he presses a kiss on your forehead and starts walking to your bedroom.
He set you down on the end of your bed. He kisses your lips, then cheek, jawline, neck, and ending at your shoulder. You let out a hum. He pulls away and steps back slightly, looking deep into your eyes, panting slightly. Your hands are behind you, propping you up as you lean back, looking at him, panting from the kisses. The thing strap of your nightgown slips from your shoulder, hanging on your arm.
Obi-Wan takes off his signature brown robe in that one specific way he always does: slipping it off his shoulders and straightening his arms out, letting it drop on its own. You bite your lower lip, your gaze going from his body to his eyes, which still stare into yours.
"Is my darling awaiting a show?"
You smile and nod. "She is."
"Ahhh." He nods.
You watched as Obi-Wan stripped out of his belt, robes, pants, and underclothes, leaving him in only his boxers. He takes a step closer to you and slowly climbs on top of you. He kisses your neck, and your hands gently hold onto his back as you let out soft sighs. Obi-Wan goes up just enough for your noses to touch tips.
"May I?" His fingers graze the strap of your nightgown.
You nod. "You may."
His hands trail down your body until he reaches the hem of your dress. His fingers slip under the fabric, caressing your skin. His hands now trail up your body, pushing the nightgown up and off your body, leaving you naked with only your panties on. Obi-Wan leans back slightly, admiring your now almost naked body. He sits on his knees and kisses your knee and lower thigh. He looks up at you.
"I must taste you, my dear..."
You smile with now lidded eyes and slowly open your legs in front of him. "Go ahead."
Obi-Wan hooks his arms under your thighs, your legs swinging over his shoulder. He kisses from the side of your knee to your inner thigh. You shiver a little from his facial hair tickling your thighs. He presses a small kiss on your pussy through the fabric of your panties. He pulls away and gently pulls off your panties. He opens your legs, your legs not on his shoulders anymore. His hands press on your inner thighs, pressing them open.
He looks up at you, and you prop yourself up on your elbows. You two lock eyes. You smile and blow him a kiss. Obi-Wan pretends to catch it and press it against his heart. You both let out a little giggle.
"Lay down, [Name]."
You do as he says, looking down at him. He presses a kiss against your pussy. And another. And another. And another. Closing his eyes, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, pressing it tightly against your pussy, making out with your pussy. You let out a shaky moan, subconsciously opening your legs wider.
His tongue moves up and down on your pussy, his eyes still closed. He makes out with your pussy just like he makes out with your lips. Your hands grip onto the bedsheets. One of your hands move down, running your fingers through his dirty brown hair. Your other hand lets go of the sheets and goes into his hair, too.
"F- Mmmm... O-Obi-Wan..."
He hums in response to your moans. He opens his eyes and looks up at you, brows frowning in concentration. Your moans get more high-pitched when he hums. The room is filled with noises of him slurping, your moans, and his occasional hums.
"Oh god..." You moan, throwing your head back.
You push his head closer against your pussy, his movements against you getting quicker. His hands grip onto your thighs tighter– not enough to hurt, but enough to feel it. Your hands grip tighter onto his hair, causing him to groan in slight pain against you.
After a while, you start getting closer and closer. You moan out his name, chanting it softly and arching against him.
"I'm cumming... Obiiii..."
You hold onto him tighter as you tremble. Obi-Wan keeps his eyes on your face as his lips and tongue keep working on you. At the last moment before reacting your peak, you let one hand off of his hair and back onto the bedsheets.
You reach your peak with a loud, shaky moan. Your body trembles in his hold as he drinks up your juices. You pant and moan desperately as he doesn't stop. He finally gets his mouth off of you with a "pop!" sound as your hands let go of him and he looks up at you, also panting. His lips, beard, and mustache are covered in your juices. Locking eyes with you, he licks his lips.
His pupils dilate, making the blue in his eyes disappear just a sliver. He stares at you silently for a minute. Obi-Wan gets up and crawls on top of you. You lay back down, your hands on his chest. He kisses you softly, and you moan against his lips as you taste yourself on his lips. He holds the sides of your head as you kiss.
He pulls away just enough to talk, his facial hair still glistening with your juices.
"I wa... no. I need you."
"Then have me, Obi."
He leans in and kisses you again. He pulls away after a bit and holds your middle with both hands and– rougher than prefered– lifts you further up the bed so your head lays on the pillow. His eyes grow worried when he realizes how roughly he threw you. He crawls on top of you.
"I'm sorry, my dear," he kisses your cheek and forehead. "I'm sorry, darling."
"I'm okay," you smile softly up at him, "Now come on... ravish me."
"Don't mind if I do..."
He leans down and kisses your neck over and over again while he pulls down his boxers, letting his already hard dick spring out.
"I love you... I love you, I love you..." he chants as he kisses your neck.
He outstretches his hand to the nightstand with a tired groan. He pulls away from your neck to full reach it. He opens the drawer and fumbles around in it until he pulls out a condom.
"Could've used the force, Mr. Jedi Master," you joke.
"Oh shush," he pecks your lips.
Obi-Wan straightens up and– making eye contact with you– puts the condom wrapper up to his mouth and opens it with his teeth. You let out a nervous, shy laugh.
"Wha?" He puts down the condom wrapper between his teeth down on the bed next to you. "You wanted a show, didn't you?"
Still laughing weakly, you nod and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. While you two kiss slowly, sensually, he slips the condom on his dick. He shifts to get comfortable against you. You pull away and look down at where you two are about to connect, but he gently holds your chin in his hand, making you look up at him.
"Look at me as I enter you."
You nod and look him in the eyes. You feel him press his tip against your entrance, and after a couple seconds, push himself forward gently until he's fully inside inside of you, his pelvis pressed against your inner thighs. You moan softly, melting against the bed under you, your hands trailing down to hold onto his biceps. Obi-Wan let's out a moan as he bottoms out in you, a small shiver rubbing down his spine.
He presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as his mouth hangs open. He starts moving slowly. Your moans start quiet and soft, and his moans do too.
"Oh... goodness... my dear..." Obi-Wan moans, your noses now touching.
"You feel so good, Obi..."
He hums softly, and his pace picks up speed. Your moans get louder, your grip on his biceps tightening. Your head turns to the right so the side of your nose presses against the side of his nose. You two moan into eachothers mouths, inches apart. Your heels press against his lower back, pushing it deeper into you with every thrust. Your eyes stare into each other, half lidded with pleasure.
The room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans, his moans, and the headboard softly hitting the wall with every one of Obi-Wan's thrusts. He cups your face with one hand, still staring into your eyes.
"You are so beautiful, my love," he pants out as his pace picks up speed again. He presses one knee against the mattress with his free hand, changing the position of his dick inside of you.
"Ohhhh my god..."
"Right there?"
"U-uhuh..."
His thrusts stay at a medium-fast pace. His kisses continue as he whispers praise in your ear. He feels himself getting closer, but he wants you to cum first. His focus is always on you and your pleasure when you're having sex. He trembles slightly, struggling to keep in his orgasm inside. Your moans get higher pitched, and your brows frow as you get closer to your peak. You grip onto him tighter, and you press your lips against his shoulder.
"Obi..."
"Y-you are close, my dear?"
"Mhm..." you nod, your arms hugging him with your nails digging softly into the flesh of his back.
"Let go..." he kisses your forehead and presses his forehead against yours, "I will catch you..."
The hand on your face trails down your body and goes between your legs. His thumb rubs slow circles around your clit, making your head spin even more. Your nails dig deeper into his back as you get closer to your peak. Obi-Wan grunts in pain.
"K-keep your claws in, kitty..."
You reply with a loud, shaky moan.
Finally, you reach your peak. Your legs tremble, and your back arches. You moan and pant his name. Obi-Wan's hand pulls away from your clit and hooks under your inner knees, now having both of your knees pinned to the mattress. You lay back, your hands trailing down his torso; your nails dragging down his skin, making him shiver.
You back arches, moaning desperately as he doesn't stop. You melt into the mattress and pillow, relishing in the feeling of him overstimulating you.
"Stay with me, love... stay with me..." he moans softly and stares at you.
"...feels so good..."
"Oh my... goodness..."
He holds onto your trembling legs tighter as he gets closer and closer. Obi-Wan pecks your lips, then kisses your cheek and then the spot under your ear. He softly chants your name, stuttering a few times.
Obi-Wan slams into you one last time before spilling into the condom with a shaky moan. He takes his hands off your legs, allowing you to close your legs. He cups your face as your legs circle around his waist, keeping him from pulling out.
"You are wonderful..." he kisses you softly, "I love you so much," another kiss, "I love you so very much, my darling..."
"I love you too, Obi-Wan..."
You two keep kissing for a while. When you finally seperate, you let out a little giggle and flip yourselves over. You straddle his waist, kissing his now red face all over, his dick still inside you. Your hands lay flat on his chest while his hold onto your hips.
"I want more."
"More? May I have a second to regenerate?"
"I gueeess," you roll your eyes and kiss him again.
"Mmm... you want me dead."
"Do not," you laugh.
"It seems so. You want yet another round so fast? Kissing me like this as well..." he leans in and kisses you.
"Mmm... you kissed me just then," you give him a peck, "Not my fault."
"Your fault. Extremely so, Miss."
"Maybe a little, Mister," you kiss him again. "But what do you expect from me, Obi?" Another kiss. "We never go for only one round..."
You two kiss passionately but softly. His hands hold your hips tighter. You run your fingers through his hair as you kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist.
"...I love you..." his kiss continues, "my darling..."
Warnings: sex and stuff, established relationships (married)
Summary: Titles self explanatory
A/N: this took me forever sorry everypony
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
♡ Contrary to popular belief, he does give you aftercare.... in a way. He doesn't just leave and ignore you. He stays in the bed and, either wordlessly lays by your side and lets you cuddle him OR you two spoon until you fall asleep.
♡ He doesn't let you leave the bed once he has you in his arms. If you ask to go to the bathroom or get water, he's growling and holding you tighter. You will not be getting up until the morning.
♡ He doesn't pull out right away. If you two are cuddling afterward, he's keeping it/them in as you sleep. If he sits on the bed and lets you snuggle against him, he does take it out, but that's rare. Even if he pulls out and cums on your body, he puts it back inside and keeps it there, unmoving.
♡ Sukuna's always heaaaaaavily teasing you after sex. Teasing you about the noises you let out during it, how you look afterward, etc etc. And if you get embarrassed or burn up, the teasing does, in fact, get worse.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
♡ On you, his favorite body part is your thighs and ass. They are the juiciest part of the human body. He loves the way they look when he folds you into a mating press or in a full nelson. He loves the sounds that are made when your thighs and ass slap against his thighs when he's pounding into you from behind. Even outside of the bedroom, they're his favorite part of you. Though he can't see it from the layers of your robes, but he has an imagination. And when you're in the house, with only one robe on, he's using his hands– smacking, touching, grabbing, etc.
♡ On himself, his favorite body part is his arms and hands. They've caused a lot of harm to many and caused tenderness to few. He's very proud of his physic. And he can tell you love it too. He uses his hands a lot during sex– choking, slapping, putting you in a headlock, folding you in borderline uncomfortable position, and manhandling you. He has retractable claws, so he fingers you occasionally. He prefers his mouth or dick(s) to cause you pleasure, but sometimes, he does.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
♡ Sukuna is cumming inside you, no matter what hole he's in– ass, pussy, mouth. You can beg him all you want, but he's not pulling out to cum on you instead of in you. And with the amount of cum that comes out of him every round *and* the amount of rounds you two always do, he's filled you up to the brim by the end of it.
♡ Speaking of amount, he cums buckets. It's thick and a creamy white color, and so so much of it. And it comes out fast. When he cums in your mouth, you almost always struggle swallowing it fast enough.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
♡ He often has fantasies about people watching you a him having sex. Like a circle of people around you, watching you two do it. It would be a showcase to everyone that he's yours, and you're his. Forever. But at the same time, he doesn't want other men's eyes on you while he's making love to you. Though, he doesn't care about other women possibly being jealous and wanting to be in your place. Why wouldn't they be jealous? He's great. He doesn't tell you because the only outcomes are that you will be disgusted by the thought of being in that situation or you'll want to do it, and it becomes a reality. And Sukuna doesn't want either of those, so he'll keep that thought to himself.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
♡ Very experienced. Before he met you, he had many concubines living with him in his castle, but once you two married, he never touched them again and even got rid of them all together. It's true that concubines and affairs are normal and even encouraged in your status and country, but Sukuna never really found the appeal in it. He married you because you were perfect for him– no flaw in sight– so why should he find other women if you're everything already.
♡ In regards to you, he doesn't care how much experience you have. Okay, maybe a little. He's possessive. But not enough to make a ruckus about it. He might not even ask you about your past to begin with. Respectfully, he does not care about your past. If you want to tell him, go ahead. In regards to concubines and affairs, he doesn't want you to have those either. He's possessive. He does indeed threaten your life if you go against his wishes in that regard. But he knows you won't. Who's dumb enough to betray HIM in any shape, way, or form? Plus, you love him so.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
♡ Any position where you're under him is his favorite. Occasionally, he likes Cowgirl and Full Nelson. His go-tos are Missionary, Mating Press, Doggystyle, and Pronebone.
♡ Missionary because it's the most common and easiest. It's not his all-time favorite, but it's almost always how sex starts. Then, as rounds go by, the position changes into others.
♡ Mating Press is his all-time favorite. It's the position where he can go as deep as he can go while you're on your back. When he leans down, he can be right up against your face and either kiss or taunt/tease you. When he's upright, he can look down at you and look at your thighs and chest jiggle with every thrust.
♡ Doggystyle is used when he's pent up, desperate, or mad. Specifically– most of the time– at you. So doggy is used to punish you and/or let out some steam. He has so much more control in this position. And he has a great view of your ass.
♡ Pronebone (or Flat Doggy) is when it's like round who-knows-what, and he's about to crash, but you want more. Or it's you that's about to crash and your knees give out, but Sukuna doesn't want to stop yet. It's also the position that squeezes him the most.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
♡ He's very serious with like everything he does, so of course he's serious during sex. His brows are always frowned, and a scowl is on his face in concentration. The only time he lets out a laugh or cackle is when he sees you struggle in any way. When you whimper, beg, get dizzy, struggle to take him, subconsciously squirm away from him, he teases you and always lets out a laugh afterward.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
♡ He has a bush. He does not shave at all. Maybe occasionally, he'll trim it to get it under control, but not shave. The only hair he actually takes care of is on his head.
♡ In regards to you, he does not care what you have down there. Though, he'd prefer it not to be clean shaven. He wants a woman, not a girl.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
♡ 50% of the time, he's very intimate– the other 50%, he's an animal in the bedroom. It depends on his mood. The pace is slower, and he's less teasing when it's intimate. The pace is rougher, and he's very much teasing when it's not intimate. When he's been away for long, and he's craving you, it's a mix between intimate and brutal. His touch and words are so loving– he missed you– and his pace is so brutal– he's pent up. But no matter what, there's always a sliver of intimacy when you have sex.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
♡ He doesn't. He never did, other than when he was younger. Back then, if he was feeling horny, he had concubines and other women at his call to take care of it. Now, if he's feeling horny, he has you to take care of it. Sukuna sees jerking off as useless for him to do, a waste of time, -a waste of cum that could've been inside you-, and childish in a way. Like stated before, he cums so much. So if doesn't have a destination (your guts), it goes everywhere and it's a huge mess that he doesn't want himself or a maid to clean up.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
♡ A lot of his kinks are centered around power. Actually, it's all of them. All of his kinks are centered around power. He has all of it, and you have none. His kinks include breath play, roleplay, orgasm control, size kink, and hitting.
♡ In breath play, he shoves your head in the pillow, covers your mouth, pinch your nose shut when you're sucking him off, etc. He likes to watch to struggle to breathe and look up at him with teary, begging eyes, begging to be let free. He likes watching you gasp for air and your moans come back shakily when he lets you go. Most of the time, he shoves your head into pillows and covers your mouth to shut you up. So maybe he's into volume control too.
♡ In roleplay, the main roleplay he likes to play is any role where he's dominated and you're submissive. His favorite role is where you're the servant, and he's the master. He's much rougher with you during roleplay because he gets way too into it. His dirty talk gets more degrading than regular.
♡ In orgasm control, he likes to– again– see the struggle. He likes to thrust faster and tell you to not cum, and see the struggle in your face as you try as hard as you can to obey him, just to fail at the end. On the flip side, he likes to thrust faster and tell you to cum right there, and watch your face twist in concentration as you try to do as he says. Sukuna likes the control and seeing you obey him so easily.
♡ With his size kink, it comes natural to someone his size to want someone shorter. He likes the buldge in your stomach when he fucks you, how small you look compared to him no matter what, etc etc. He thinks it's funny to watch you struggle during sex because of the difference. You could barely handle one dick in the beginning, and as soon as you got used to it, he started fucking you with both, and the struggling came back.
♡ In hitting– meaning spanking, slapping, pulling hair– he (again) likes the control. He never like beats you or causes huge harm to you in bed, don't worry. He will toss you around and roughhouse tho. Especially if you have a twinge or more than a twinge of masochism. He spanks you because he uses it as a way to wordlessly command you to move your ass against him in doggystyle move. He only really slaps your face if you say you want him too; he slaps your tits and clit a lot when the sex is on the rougher side. He pulls hair to keep you in place while he thrusts behind you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
♡ The only rooms he will have sex in is in your shared bedroom, the throneroom, and the bathroom. His favorite tho is the bedroom because of the intimacy and it's the easiest room to have sex at. You only have sex in the throneroom when either of you are too horned up to go ask the way to the bedroom. You only have sex in the bathroom when you two have baths together and the space gets too intimate and whatnot.
♡ He won't want to have sex outside the castle or anywhere else, tho. Not outside the castle because quickies are like impossible and when you're out, you two need to get out and come back asap. With the number of layers you both have on, you don't have the time to have quickies. And anywhere else in the house is a big no because of servants and other people that could catch you. He doesn't want either of you to be seen.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
♡ It's not hard to turn him on, honestly. If you ask for sex, you're getting it. Get naked, kiss him slowly, look at him through your lashes, cling onto him in public, let him dress you in the morning, dress him in the morning, touch his torso in any way, talk back to him, even be happy around him. He gets turned on by you in general.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
♡ Unless you're dead by the end of it, he doesn't have any turn offs really. Though, all bodily fluids (and solids 😬) that isn't your cum is a no. Keep it classy. Also, stuff that involves other men or being watched by others is a big no. Threesomes, vouyerism, etc etc– no.
♡ If you have turn offs, he won't do them, obviously. If you seriously don't want something, you won't get it. But God forbid you say no with the little begging sparkle in your eye. You're getting it.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
♡ He prefers to receive, but that doesn't mean he won't go down on you.
♡ He loves getting head. It makes him feel more powerful and in control. He wants your eyes on his at all times. He's a head pusher and loves watching you gag and struggle to breathe. You can hit his leg all you want. You won't be able to breathe until he wants you to. And don't you worry– he likes that only ⅓-½ of his dick can fit in your mouth, and your teeth are constantly digging softly into his flesh. Pain and pleasure is what he lives for.
♡ When he's giving head, he's an animal. He starts with the mouth on his face, and when he gets tired of that, he moves onto the mouth on his stomach. With one pair of hands, he keeps your legs open, and with the other, he either holds your hands, massages your tits, or has a hand around your throat or fingers in your mouth. He doesn't stop until he's satisfied. He mainly eats you out for his own pleasure, but he makes sure you're well taken care of, too. He eats you out before sex most of the time, so sex doesn't hurt as much considering his size and girth in comparison to your size.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
♡ His pace is always rough and punishing no matter how fast or slow. He's usually fast, tho. He's only slow when he's worn out or attempting to be intimate. Intentionally or not, he's always rough. Skin slapping against skin, the bed screaming under your combined weights, your moans turning into sobs by the end of it. Many beds have broken because of Sukuna. They get replaced the next morning because he keeps fucking you on the broken bed, or on the floor.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
♡ As stated before, quickies are like impossible. The amount of robes and layers you have on, your inability to be quiet, and Sukuna’s inability to be rush sex. If he wants sex, he's pulling you away from everyone and taking you to the bedroom.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
♡ He loves being risky. Everything he does is for the thrill. He never outwardly asks to try something new in the bedroom, tho. He would just say something like "Trust me" and start instructing you to do things. You can propose whatever you want, and he's willing to try it out. He'll give some honest feedback afterward, too. If he liked it or if he didn't; if you should do it again or if it's the first and last time that's done. He loves it when you propose things into the bedroom. He likes to watch you get all shy explaining it and watching your reaction when he's destroying you at your own game, whispering in your ear, "This is what you wanted, right?".
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
♡ His stamina is on the middle-high range. Some days, it's average, about 3-4 rounds. Other days, it's higher, about 4-5 rounds. There's never only one round. The shortest night was two rounds, and it only happened like once.
♡ When it comes to penetrative sex, he lasts about 3 minutes, 5 if he's edging himself or "running out of cum/stamina" iykwim. When it comes to oral sex, he lasts a good 4-5 minutes. It takes longer because his full dick doesn't fit in your mouth, so it's different compared to penetration– where more can fit.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
♡ Are there even toys in the Heian era? Yes or no, doesn't matter, Sukuna won't have any. If you do, he doesn't care. Well, he acts like it, but he doesn't want you using any toys. He's right there, at your service. Why would you masterbate? Why would he?
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
♡ He is the biggest tease in the world. He just loves to push you to the edge and watch you fight back and ultimately lose. He overstimulates, edges, and laughs at your struggle.
♡ Multiple times, he has– instead of rubbing your clit or better yet, fucking you– hes just slapped your pussy until it's red and you're about to cum from the slaps alone. Then he pulls away, just enough for your orgasm to stop, and finally fucks the shit out of you. Cruel, but it feels so good.
♡ Everytime he fucks you, he's teasing and poking fun at you in some way. If not by actions, then by his words.
"You needed me that badly, hm?"
"I know you can beg better, [name]. Don't be pathetic."
"Ah-ah... I'm not moving until you say it again. Come on, little lady, say it again."
"Your moans are so pathetic and... desperate."
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
♡ Speaking of teasing with his words, his volume is very high in the bedroom. Other than speaking, he grunts, groans, growls even. He almost drowns out your moans, whines, and whimper with his own noises. But yours are always significantly louder. It's your guts that are taking the damage after all. He can only truly listen to all your moans in full volume when he's eating you out since his mouth is a little busy. He doesn't care how loud he is. He's shameless.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
♡ Sukuna wants you to perform for him. He wants you two to be alone in the throneroom, musicians outside of the room– close to the door so you both can hear the music but outside so the group don't see you doing such a thing–, him sitting on his throne while you wear little to no clothes and dance to the music for him. He wants your eyes on his at all time, even if he breaks eye contact to look at the way your body moves. And once he's had enough, he snaps his fingers, making the musicians retreat immediately, and pulling you on top of him and making love to you right there.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
♡ Oh, they're huge. Both have the same length, girth, and appearance– for the most part. It's at 11 inches in length with 9-10 inches in girth. It's uncut (because it's the Heian era, but even in the modern world, he wouldn't get it cut). They both curved upwards, stacked on top of each other with the lower one curving slightly less, with a pair of balls between the two with the other pair under the lower one. His dicks are as muscular and veiny as the rest of his physique. Because of the curve of his dicks, every thrust makes your pussy make a squelching sound every time. The positions of his dicks are perfect for double penetration– one in your pussy, one in your ass.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
♡ Extremely high. Before he met you, it was moderate. Only when he was stressed, pent-up, or needed to blow off some steam would he seek out sex. Now that he has you, his wife, he can't seem to get off of you. He just loves you so much. He wants to show you as much love and physical affection as possible. He'll never beg for sex tho. His ego and pride are too big for that. He will stare at you until you make the first move a lot instead.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
♡ His soul is one of a middle-aged man forever. He's falling asleep soon after sex. Even during the day, he'll take a nap. He'll let you cuddle up by him as he sleeps as his form of aftercare.
♡ He sleeps like a log, too. An earthquake couldn't wake him up. And when something does wake him up, he gets super grumpy and mad, and whatever or whoever woke him up. He sleeps with a frown on his face sometimes, and other times, he looks... peaceful. He does snore. Like a dad. It's a miracle he doesn't have many wrinkles on his face from frowning even in his sleep.
Characters: Sukuna Ryomen (JJK), f!reader, (unnamed) son
Warnings: may be ooc, family stuff, takes place during the Heian Era, emotions, established relationships (married), death mention
Summary: Titles self explanatory
A/N: i just graduated high school everyone clap 4 me rn
Pregnancy announcement♡
♡ You don't hesitate to tell him you're pregnant. You're married after all. You know Sukuna's going to be happy about the news. And he was. Your belly is just slightly rounder and hard– you're showing– and according to some housekeepers, you have all the symptoms of being with child.
♡ As soon as you feel ready, that night, you lay with Sukuna in your shared bed and tell him the news. You're pregnant.
He grins and looks down at you. "I knew it."
"You did?"
He pulls you closer and peck your lips. "What do you take me for, hm? Stupid?"
"But are you happy?"
Sukuna pulls you closer, so now you're on his lap, your legs on either side of his legs. He kisses you, a hand on the back of your head. He pulls away after your small make-out.
"Estatic."
♡ So safe to say, he's very happy about the news. He may not be jumping up and down in person, but he is in his head.
♡ That night, he slept with you very close to him. You're always pressed against him at night no matter what, actually. But tonight felt felt different. Before, he'd hold you close to just be close, but now, he's holding you in an almost protective way. You're carrying his baby– his heir– now. You were on a pedestal already being his wife. Now, you're pregnant with his child. In everyone's eyes, from now on, you'll be untouchable.
Pregnancy♡
♡ Throughout your pregnancy, you were treated like gold. You weren't even showing yet, and nobody let you do anything too extreme without supervision– per Sukuna's orders. You had the best cooked meals, the best doctors at your orders, the best teas and remedies to make sure you're the healthiest you can be.
♡ You get everything you want from Sukuna. A certain snack, leaving an event, a cuddle, etc etc. Though, this kind of attention does make Sukuna scold you a lot. When you go outside without telling anyone, when you stand on top of things (chairs, the bed, etc), when you eat something that isn't healthy, etc. He just wants to keep you safe. When he scolds you, you either fight back or cry. Hormones, yk? He prefers you get lippy with him back– he thinks it fun to bicker. He visibly panicks a little when you cry. But as easy as it was to make you cry, it's easy to get you to calm down, so his worries are lifted quick.
♡ Sukuna does that thing where the man stands behind the pregnant lady, holds the very bottom of the belly, and lifts it up a lot. He has the strength, after all. And he loves seeing you relieved after the extra weight is taken off your sore back.
You're slouched on his lap, 6 months pregnant. His lower hands lifts your pregnant belly upwards, his upper arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders. Your cheek is pressed against his strong forearm. You two are sat on a couch, facing and listening to a small ensemble playing soft music.
You were always constantly being serenaded by music ever since you got pregnant. The weight being lifted of your back, being held by Sukunas huge arms, and the soft music was making to hard to stay awake.
"[Name]?"
Sukuna looks down at you and... oh you're asleep.
He doesn't move from his position, letting you sleep. After a long while, even he starts to doze off. What wakes him up was the music stopping slowly. He opens his two right eyes and glares at the musicians.
"Play."
And the music starts up again.
When you wake up, Sukuna is dead asleep, his arms that were lifting your belly now limp on your lap, returning the weight to your body. The music has stopped now, instruments left on the floor where the performance was. You snuggle up against him and go back to sleep in his arms.
♡ You two have a lot of late night talks about the future and your baby. One of your main topics is death. This is the Heian era. It's very likely that you or your baby will die during childbirth. And it doesn't help that Sukuna is so big and you're so much shorter. If your baby outgrows your body and can't be pushed out, then it's over for one or both of you. You break down a lot when you remember you and your baby's lives are on the line, but Sukuna is there to comfort you in his own way.
"Death is inevitable, [Name]. We cannot escape fate."
"But I don't want to die... or my baby to die..."
"You two will be fine."
"How are you so sure?"
"I'm not. But what I am sure of is that if it is under my control, you will be completely fine and healthy. You and our baby."
♡ It's an iffy way to comfort a mother who knows she and her baby might die soon, but it weirdly works on you. If Sukuna can help it, you will be nursed to perfect health, but fate is fate, and if it says it's someone's time, then it is.
♡ Sukuna and you talked about names a couple of times, and in the end, he lets you choose the name. Well, kind of. You say out some name ideas, and he agrees or disagrees. But technically, you chose the name.
♡ When you get really big, closer to your baby's arrival, you're bedridden– per Sukuna's request. Though, you're never alone. You always have someone with you, but it's usually Sukuna himself or Uraume occasionally.
Birth♡
♡ Your water broke while you were getting help getting dressed for the day. The maid/housekeeper helping you screams out that it's time and guides you to the north wing of the house– the birthing room. The room was turned into a birthing room weeks ago, waiting to be used.
♡ Your birth was... overstimulating, to be frank. Sukuna is next to you as you push, midwives around you, religious preaches saying payers, the room covered in white sheets and herb scents. It was noisy, smelly, and you were in intense pain. You subconsciously accepted your fate to death at one point because it was so painful. But after long, long hours... you did it. Your baby was born. You were able to hear that it's a boy before fainting.
♡ You barely understood what Sukuna was doing or if he even helped at all because of the caos. But Sukuna was helping. Holding your hand, pushing hair away from your face, applying cold water into towels and then onto your forehead so you don't overheat, mouthing the prayers that are said to protect you and your baby, ordering everyone around so it's the safest and as mildy overstimulating as possible.
♡ When you woke up, you were alone in the birthing room with Sukuna and your baby boy, swaddled in a blanket, sleeping in your husband's arms. The baby was so tiny in Sukuna's arms, and so big in yours.
"You're awake."
"Yeah... is that my baby?"
"Who else would it be? I told you you would be fine."
"...my baby..."
♡ You hold your baby finally when you come to. Sukuna sits by you and looks down at you smiling and holding your little boy. Before, he had one person to protect: you. Now, he has two people to protect: you and your son.
Infant♡
♡ Alas, you and your baby were as healthy as can be, which is rare for these times.
♡ For the first months of your baby being born, there was a lot of blessings, rituals, and parties thrown for him. They were all celebrations of him– and you– being alive and well. Only at night would you and Sukuna have your baby to yourselves because of these celebrations and prayers.
♡ All of these celebrations are very tiring for you. You just gave birth, and it was borderline traumatic. Your baby was huge (thanks to Sukuna's genes). You were recovering. Recovering very well, but still, it's not an easy recovery. Sukuna can tell how tired you are and how hard you try to celebrate your baby and whatnot. When he can tell you are extremely worn out, he quickly cuts the celebration short.
♡ In contrast to tradition, you are raising your child. Normally, royal babies would be raised by a woman hired to do so. But you want your baby, so you and Sukuna are raising him yourself. As much as you were adamant on raising your baby yourself, so was Sukuna.
♡ The little boy either sleeps between you and Sukuna, or you sleep between your baby and Sukuna.
♡ The first few nights that your boy wakes you two up crying, Sukuna gets mad as hell. He values his sleep so much, and now he has a little person interrupting his precious beauty sleep. He glares at you as you attempt to quiet down the boy.
"Get the shithead to shut up..." He grunts and turns over.
"What do you think I'm doing, Kuna?" You say as you bounce the crying baby, patting his back.
Baby♡
♡ He talks to your baby boy like an adult, not a kid. He has a softer tone of voice when he speaks, but it's not like he baby talks. You're more likely to pick him up with one arm than hear him baby talk to anybody.
"Stop doing that. Are you suicidal?" Sukuna talks to your boy as he pulls the blanket off his face for the nth time in that minute alone. The baby giggle and does it again.
"[Name]! Get your brat under control!" He yells and turns back to the boy and uncovers his face. "You've been alive for how long, and you're already making me lose it."
♡ He constantly has one of his eyes on the baby when he's around. His two left eyes and top right eye look forward while his one bottom right eye looks at the baby either in his lap or yours. And when the little guy is in your hold, Sukuna's one eye flickers from looking at you to your baby and back and forth. His two treasures <3
♡ In public, he's moderately affectionate with the baby. In private, he's very affectionate. A lot of people believe that he's stone cold and unable to show his love, but that is not true. When Sukuna feels something, he's not afraid to show it. In public, he riles it in to keep his reputation and also time-and-place etiquette. In private, he has your son sleeping all over him, kissing him when he wants, having constant daddy-son time.
♡ As much as he loves his bonding time, he loves watching you two bond a twinge more. He loves to just stare at you two with an unreadable face as you two giggle together. When you and your son have your time together, he just loves observing it. You– the only person who he loves– and your little boy– the physical proof of the love between you two.
♡ When you need a babysitter, you make Uraume do it. Keyword make them do it. They aren't very fond of kids, but they do really anything Sukuna and you ask of them. They have a constant annoyed and disgusted face, but they do a pretty good job at taking care of babies. Uraume has the talent, not the passion. Your baby is safe, sound, happy, and in good hands.
♡ Sukuna "sings" your boy to sleep sometimes. He hums melodies to him as he lays on his dad's chest. The melodies put your baby to sleep faster than anything else. They even drive you to fall asleep, too. You have fallen asleep, curled against his side with an arm around you, and your baby on his belly, laying on Sukuna’s chest, a lot. What you don't know is that while you were pregnant, while you slept, he would hum to you and your unborn baby.
♡ Your boy always has his mouth on something– even before teething. His own tiny fist, Sukuna’s fingers, your fingers, hair, robes, blankets, literally anything he gets his hands on.
"[Baby's name]." Sukuna scolds and takes his robes out of the baby's mouth.
The boy coos and grabs onto Sukuna’s robes again and puts it in his mouth. He scowls.
"Like son like father," you tease.
"The fuck do you mean by that?"
"You eat everything."
Sukuna frowns and "tsk"s. He takes the robes out of your baby's mouth.
♡ Your baby's favorite parent is Sukuna, and he brags about it a lot. Now, just because you're not the favorite doesn't mean your baby hates you and makes those silly angry faces whenever he sees you. The boy has his moments where he favors you, but for most of the time, he clings onto his dad.
You make grabby hands at your baby boy as Sukuna holds him, signaling that you're going to grab him. The baby whines and turns around to face away from you, wordlessly rejecting you. Sukuna grins.
"Loser."
"Oh shush."
He cackles. "You're bitter."
You roll your eyes and swat his arm. You lean in and kiss your baby's head. "[Baby's name], tell you dad to be quiet."
The baby coos and pats Sukuna’s mouth with his tiny hands. You laugh as Sukuna glares down at the boy, one of his eyes looking at you.
♡ His first word was "Dada". You honestly looked more excited than Sukuna. On the inside, he's ecstatic– jumping up and down. On the outside, he's just grinning, watching you congratulate your baby. Your excitement makes your baby excited, so the room is filled with giggles and hoorays. Sukuna scoops your baby up and tells him to say it again. When he does, you cheer, and Sukuna’s grin gets wider, and he says, "That's my boy!" (Cliché).
♡ When he takes his first steps, he's just as ecstatic. You're sitting on the bed, holding the baby's hands. The boy is standing on the floor, facing Sukuna. Sukuna is sitting on the floor a couple of feet away from you two. He beckons the baby to walk to him, and after a while, he does. When the baby reaches Sukuna, you cheer, and Sukuna wraps his big arms around the little guy and hugs him tightly, one of his hands patting his head.
Toddler♡
♡ Your kid is a damn demon when he hits toddler age. A lot of being a brat, throwing fits, making messes, all of it. But surprisingly, he's not that bratty in public. It's like he knows your family has a reputation to uphold. He still can be a brat in public juuuuust a little. But he's worse at home. Sukuna scolds him a lot for this. You scold him too, but he only listens to his dad's scolding.
♡ Sukuna swears his hair is gunna gray at rapid speed because of your son. He loves his boy with all of his heart, but holy nuts is he a handful.
♡ When he's mad at him, he calls him "your son" instead of "our son".
♡ Sukuna has accidently taught him curse words many times. Your son was in his "copycat" phase, and Sukuna said one bad word, and now he's spamming it. Now you're scolding Sukuna.
"I've told you time and time again to tone it down around him and now look."
"Look, woman, it's not the end of the world."
"Sukuna."
"Fine. I'll tone it down."
"He already said it! It's too late!"
"I'll fix it, lady. Have faith in your husband."
♡ Low and behold, he didn't do shit. He thinks it's funny. He still does shush his son, but in his head, he thinks it's hilarious.
♡ Speaking of his copycat phase, he's copying everything Sukuna does. Sukuna blows on hot food before the first bite, your boy is doing the same. Sukuna stretches his arms upwards with a groan in the morning, your boy is doing the same. Sukuna falls asleep in a specific position, your boy is doing the same. It takes a minute for Sukuna to notice it, but when he does, it lowkey boosts his ego. He's so cool, his son copies his every move. Maybe one day, the boy will copy him in his other moves in the future that may or may not draw blood and possible decrease in population.
♡ Sukuna attempts to teach your son some stuff immediately, but he's still a baby, so of course, it goes in one ear and out the other. He's sat him down many times and just goes into a huge monolog about power, being the best, yada yada. Your son is just sat there, eating snacks, staring at your husband with his big dow eyes as he rants.
♡ You two do that thing where you're like "Go tell your dad," and when your kid goes to Sukuna, he's like "Go tell your mom." But your kid is still basically a baby, so he's cluelessly going back and forth between you two, probably asking for help to put on a sock or something. (This will indeed continue into your kid's tween and teen years).
♡ Sukuna brags about you two a whole lot. A beautiful wife and a healthy, strong son– what more could a man ask for? To whom he brags you to? Everyone with ears, honestly.
♡ When your son was an infant/baby, it was you who had to waddle up in the middle of the night to sooth your baby back to sleep, but as the kiss gets older and reaches toddler age, Sukuna starts soothing them to sleep. Obviously, they don't cry body murder at night anymore, though, so it's easier to sooth him. It's mainly nightmares or being uncomfortable at night. Sukuna is very grumpy and pissed off when he's woken up, sure, but he knows you'll be even more pissed if you're woken up. He soothes him by either humming to him or staying up until he's calmed himself down.
♡ He spoils your kid DOWN. Anything he asks for, Sukuna gets for him. He knows this spoiled treatment is going to only grow with his age, but right now, he's not worried about that. That's future him's problem. Sukuna is in charge of spoiling your kid rotten, and you're in charge of making sure he doesn't grow up to be the snobby kind of spoiled rotten.
♡ Sukuna gets you pregnant again fast. Your son was super excited about the news, and Sukuna was happier than ever. He loved taking care of you while you were with child, loved watching you care for little baby, etc etc. So, of course, he wants it to happen again. After a bit of persistence, you agree to get pregnant again, and boom– he got you pregnant again. Sukuna was against children before meeting you and after meeting you. But once you got pregnant with your first son, he was so for it. He is perchance planning on getting you pregnant for as much as your body allows it.
Warnings: established relationships (married), reader is insecure (about their art), uraume may be ooc, sukuna too, reassurance, fluff
Summary: Sukuna writes, you paint. It's a big deal here in the Heian era that nobles parttake in the arts. You've shown some of your paintings off, but not all. You have some paintings hidden away. Sukuna writes poems about nature, scenery, love, and other smaller themes. And you– in secret– paint his poems. You so badly want to show him, but what if he doesn't like them? As one of your best– and only– friends, Uraume is there to convince you to finally show your husband your works.
♬: Corazón de poeta - Jeanette
A/N: kinda short
You stare at your painting. Stroke by stroke, you finish your art piece and cross your arms, leaning back to look at it fully. It's a painting of a traditional Japanese woman dressed in white and yellow robes, her hair down and laid on her back and onto the grass. She sat by a river with a tree towering over her. The skies behind her are clear. The woman is leaning down, seemingly staring at her reflection, dipping her ring finger into the water.
It's simple, sure, but the backstory of the painting would warm any cold heart.
Your husband, Sukuna, wrote poetry. Many high-class people do. Including you from time to time, but your heart is in painting. Sukuna never goes into your art room. It's your space, and if you wanted to invite him, you would. Occasionally, you did. And your husband would always praise your work. But what was your muse for all of your art? Sukuna’s poetry. Though, you were embarrassed to show him those paintings. You'd show him only the paintings you'd base off of your own stories. The ones where his words are the muse were hidden away– for your eyes only.
"[Name]-sama."
You jump and turn around, seeing Urauma standing behind you.
"God, you are... as quiet as a mouse. What?"
"Your painting is beautiful."
"Awe thank you. You think so?"
"I assume you're hiding this one from Sukuna-sama as well?"
You sulk at their sass. But they weren't lying.
You sigh. "Yeah."
"Which one is this one about?"
"The one about the woman that wishes for love to a river for seven days and it comes true on the seventh day. Named 'The River' I think."
"That is a good one... but one of these days, he's going to find out."
You sulk again. "I know... it's just embarrassing."
"I don't see the embarrassment."
"Like..." you pause, "Sukuna is really good at what he does and... what if he thinks my interpretation of his artwork is really bad?" As you talk, your eyebrows form into a sad furrow.
Uraume's expression stays unreadable– as usual– but there's a hint of annoyance. "You're very stubborn on being perceived negatively."
"I am not! This is just... really high stakes."
"High stakes? Sukuna-sama spends his days gassing up your paintings, and you wholeheartedly believe he's going to think differently, knowing your muse?"
They were right. But that didn't stop your fear from lingering.
"I don't want to get rejected."
You can see their annoyance growing slowly. "Rejected? You're married?"
"...so should today be the day I tell him?"
"Yes, [Name]-sama."
You sigh shakily and stand up from off your chair, placing your brush into the can of water and wiping your hands on the cloth that was once on your lap. "But if anything goes wrong, I'm blaming you." I jokingly point at them and walk past them to leave your art room.
Uraume makes a face that says "the fuck did i do?" and follows you out of the room, closing the door behind them.
You find Sukuna on the second story of your home, sitting on the couch by the window. Outside of the window is the garden, alone with the fountain that's in the front yard. He's holding his poetry book, a quill in hand, and a pod of ink placed on the windowsill. He sits on the couch, his lower back on the arm rest– which is pressed against the wall. His upper left arm holds the book, his upper right elbow on the windowsill with his fist supporting his head upright as he reads his own words, his lower left arm lazily on his lap, and his lower right hand holding the quill right above the inkwell.
He looked so serene and beautiful. You turn around about the retreat, but you see Uraume. They raise an eyebrow. You turn right back around to face Sukuna. You jump as you turn around, and he's looking directly at you.
"Hi Kuna." You smile and slowly walk to him. His position doesn't change.
"Yes?"
You sit on his thighs, and his free arm settles on your lap, his hand going into your robes and holding onto your waist through your underdress.
"I painted something new."
"I know. You smell of it."
You hesitate a little bit, your fingers fidgeting with the end of your robes' sleeves. "I want to show you my painting."
"Lead the way."
You stand up, and he follows after. He closes his book and sets the quill by the inkwell and tucks his book into the waistband of his pants.
You walk him over to your art room, closing the door behind the two of you. With his four arms crossed, he steps forward, analyzing the painting. You stand next to him. The room is silent, which makes you even more nervous. He looks over at you.
"The River?"
"...yeah."
Sukuna looks back at your art. He pouts and raises his eyebrows, and nods. Approval.
"It's... beautiful." He looks over at you again.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "Thank you."
"Why are you nervous?"
"No reason."
"Did you think I would hate it?"
You don't reply. Your silence spoke to him instead.
"Have you painted any more of my works?"
"Yeah."
"Which ones?"
You silently beckon him over to follow you to another room. It's a smaller room connected to your art room. You've told him before that the space is for supplies. It was a lie. It was where you kept all of your paintings that were based on his poetry. Hidden away– for your eyes only. Well, for your and Uraume's eyes only.
You walk into the room, and Sukuna follows. He looks around, very quickly acknowledging which paintings were based on which poem.
"And you... hid all of this from me for how long?"
"...a while..." you look more shameful than nervous now.
"Why?"
"I was nervous you'd think my paintings didn't look good. It would be an offense to you if I read something as beautiful as your poetry and created something ugly out of it."
"Have I not given you enough compliments on your artwork to get rid of those negative thoughts?"
"No, you've given me plenty compliments... I just can't help the feelings I feel."
He hums and lets you continue, looking at painting to painting.
"I'm sorry I hid all of this from you."
"Oh, please. Save your apologies for something that needs it."
"...so you like them?"
"Very much so."
You smile softly up at him. Sukuna looks down at you.
"You are never to hide anything from me again."
You let out a small laugh. "Yes sir."
You step forward and hug him, your arms around his hips. His lower set of arms wrap around you, and his upper hands reach down to gently hold onto your arms.
"That was scary."
"Hm?"
"Telling you about all of this. You're very intimidating." You look up at him, your chin on his torso.
"You should be the last person to be intimidated by me."
"Well, you intimidate me just a little."
"And for that, you lied to me for who knows how long?"
"I was nervous! You know how high stakes artwork is... especially mine."
"Yes, but I'm your husband."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Don't 'yeah, yeah' me."
You let out a laugh, and Sukuna squeezes you, making you let out an 'omf' sound. He lets go of you and brings his attention back to your artwork, hung on the walls of the room and– the ones that couldn't fit on the wall– leaning against the tables and cabinets.
"We are hanging these. I'm not letting them rot in here alone."
"Really?"
"Yeah. But later. You interrupted me earlier."
"Sorryyyyy."
"What did I say about saving apologies?"
You bring up your hands in a surrender. You two walk out of the room and back into the primary art room.
"Come with me."
"Oh. Okay."
You follow him out of the art room and back to the window where you found him pondering at earlier. Sukuna sits on the couch again, legs on the cushions as his back hits the armrest. He pats his thighs and you– understanding his silent command– go over and sit on his lap as he pulls out his book from his waistband. You lean against his body and his lower arms wrap around to you firmly. His upper hands hold onto his book and quill, making the only sounds you can hear being ink on paper and your mixed breathing.
♡...
It's been days since then. Sukuna’s had many of your artworks hung around your castle. You were alone in your art room, painting another one of Sukuna’s poems. You were painting a snowy scenery, a single kakitsubata flower sprouting from the snow. You now paint your husband's poems with more confidence than before, thanks to Sukuna’s and others' compliments.
"[Name]-sama."
You jump at the voice and turn around to see whose voice just startled you.
"Uraume." You let out a relieved sigh. "Seriously, can you any more quieter?"
"Did I startle you again? My apologies."
"It's fine, Ura. What is it?"
"I told you so." The corner of their lips turn upwards just a bit.
"Huh?"
They point at your painting.
"Oh."
They smugly raise an eyebrow.
"See? You must have more fate in Sukuna-sama."
"I know, I know. I'm working on it. Promise."
"As much as you were tortured, so was I, you know."
"How?"
"I was stuck between my two loyalties: you and Sukuna-sama. Either I tell the truth and break your trust, or keep your white lie and break his trust."
"You're right. I'm sorry I put you in that predicament."
"I'm glad it's all resolved."
You smile and nod slowly. "Me too."
"Dinner is in 10. That is all I wanted to say. Excuse me."
"Mhm."
Before they leave, they turn around to look at you one last time.
"Your painting looks beautiful."
You smile. "Thank you."
And with that, they leave you alone again in your art room. You look at your painting and happily sigh. You pick up your paintbrush and continue adding your finishing touches. Maybe your art really isn't as bad as you think it is.
Warnings: established relationships (married), oral (f!recieving) (kind of??) , piv sex, overstimulation, rough sex, sukuna has retractable claws, stomach mouth used during sex, aftercare, cervix kissing, dirty talk
Summary: Sukuna has been gone for a whole day and a half while you've been at home, alone with nobody to keep company but the housekeepers, bored... and needy. When he finally comes home, you're all over him, practically begging him to make love to you. Thankfully, he was just as needy for you as you were for him.
♬: My Moon My Man - Feist
A/N: 😛
Sukuna went on a mission somewhere 2 days ago– accompanied by Uraume, of course.
You miss your man so bad.
It's so boring in this huge castle, all by yourself. You spent a night, a full day, and now a morning without your husband. Yesterday was hell. You were doing whatever to keep you entertained. Walked some laps, painted, took a couple naps, read a little bit. But nothing entertained you like Sukuna does. Even being around him in silence never bores you. And now you're in silence by yourself.
You were in your art room, not painting, but just staring off into space. One of the maids opens the door and peaks in.
"Ma'am? Lord Sukuna has arrived. He awaits you in your chambers."
Finally.
Your eyes lit up, and you stand straight. You thank the maid, and she leaves, then you follow her and leave the art room. You practically run to the bedroom.
Sukuna is laid on the bed, legs slightly open, lowers arms crossed while his upper hands are on the back of his head with his eyes closed.
"Sukuna! You're back!" You practically squeal– making his eyes open– and run to him. You jump on him, sitting on his lap with your hands on his chest. He let's out an "oomf" and his hands go to your waist.
You lean in and kiss his lips passionately, your arms around his neck. God, you've been craving this feeling ever since he left. You've touched your lips and neck, your skin craving his lips all over yourself. You've touched yourself at the thought of him. It's been so little time, but it feels like it's been an eternity without him. With the way his lower arms wrap around your waist and upper hand holds the back of your head, you know he feels the same way. Maybe more than you.
You pull away and trail kisses down his neck while you talk. "Mmm... how was... your... trip?"
"Shit."
"Mmm..." You continue kissing him. You pull away to look at him in the eyes. "Nothing fun?"
"I ate. Brought back some meat."
You let out a small laugh. "That's fun to you? Eating?"
Sukuna grunts, staring into your eyes. You know what that stare means. He doesn't want to talk– he wants to fuck. And badly. And you do too. But you think it'd be fun to keep him on edge for a little while longer.
"It was so boring here without you..." You whine and rest your head on his shoulder, your forehead pressed against his neck, and your hand runs through the opposite side of his hair.
Sukjna doesn't reply, his hands tightening on your hips.
"[Name]."
You hum against his neck.
"Look at me."
You do, and immediately, he catches your lips in a kiss, his upper hands moving up to hold your head in place. The kiss started and continued as heated, passionate. He smells like sweat, blood, and a twinge of river water. It would tick you off any other day, but you feel like an animal today. The mix of the scents makes you feel primal. And the smell of your freshly showered, earthy flower scented aroma drives him crazy. Makes him feel primal.
The make-out session continues. His left lower hand massages your ass, your right lower hand grabbing onto your thigh, his upper hands grabbing your head. Your hands are on his shoulder blades. You feel his hard on(s) poke against your leg. You speak as you kiss him.
"I need you, Kuna..."
"Mm..."
"Need all four hands on me..." Kisses. "All four eyes on me..." Kisses. "All two lips on mine..." Kisses. "...and all two dicks in me..."
He growls against your lips and flips you over so you're on your back. He holds your shoulders pinned to the mattress.
"You want me entirely?" He towers over you.
You nod desperately, your eyes staring into his, begging.
"Tch... you always get what you want."
Sukuna roughly kisses you as he pulls off your robe and undergarments. You lay bare on the bed. He looks down at your body and leans down, and captures your nipple into his mouth. You moan softly. While his tongue and teeth play with your nipple, his other hand pinches and teases your other nipples, his lower hands peel off his robes and pants.
He pulls away and looks down at you. Your hands hold onto the sides of his torso.
"Have you touched yourself at the thought of me while I was gone?"
Your eyes widen a little, and you let out an embarrassed laugh, and your skin heats up a little. You look away from him, struggling to maintain eye contact.
"...maybe?..."
Sukuna raises his eyebrows.
"...yeah. I have..." You finally confess, licking eyes with him.
"We have been married for how long, and you still get this nervous around me?"
"It caught me off guard!"
He lets out a chuckle. "Silly girl..."
He leans down and kisses your neck a couple of times before coming back up. His eyes lock onto yours. The tongue from his mouth on his stomach comes out and lays flat on your pussy. You let out a small moan. The tip of the tongue swirls around your clit. Sukuna leans down and kisses your neck more, lightly biting and sucking at your upper neck. You moan more, your hands hold onto his torso as your hips buck up against his tongue.
He straightens up, his tongue pulling away from your clit. The mouth on his stomach grins at you while the corner of the mouth on his face twitches up, almost suppressing a grin. He takes his middle and ring finger and retreats his sharp nails so the two fingers are now shortened, as plunges them inside your pussy. You moan, instantly getting wetter. He curls his fingers, his eyes set on your face. Your moans shake and your legs tremble.
"You're this worked up over two fingers? I must not be stretching out my wife accordingly."
You whine as he pulls out of you.
Sukuna uses one of his lower hands to pump his upper dick a couple of times before lining it up with your entrance. He slowly sinks his tip into you, earning a shaky gasp from you. God, you've missed the feeling of his dick inside of you. The stretch– painful but so delicious. He slowly pushes his dick as deep as it can go inside of you. He can never fully go inside of you without hours of prepping or it being incredibly painful. But you two don't have time for hours of prepping. You're both too desperate. Needy.
Sukuna pulls himself up to look down at you. His hands go into fists on either side of your body as he starts thrusting. Your hands go from his back to his arms, your nails digging into his muscles. Every thrust is a hard stop. Hard and deep but not fast. Not just yet.
"J-just one...?"
"Hm?"
"I want both..."
He knows what you mean. You want both of his dicks.
"Im not trying to kill you, woman. You've been away from us for two nights. You're not ready." His voice is rough. As are his thrusts– which he doesn't stop as he speaks.
You don't reply. Just continue moaning and jolting up with every thrust.
Sukunas tongue comes out from his mouth on his stomach again. The tip of it circles are your clit as it was doing before, causing you to let out a small yelp. Your legs attempt to close, but Sukuna’s body keeps them open.
As his tongue and dick both work on you, he kisses– using the mouth on his face– your neck, up to your jawline, to your cheek, forehead, and head. It's rare he gets this loving and adoring at any time. But being away from you– for even as little time as a day– makes his needy. As much as he hates being this dependent on a regular human. As he showers you in kisses, your hands trail up his biceps and to his shoulders.
"Kuna... oh god..."
He knows what that tone of voice means. And that feeling of you getting wetter and squeezing him tighter and shaking in his hold. You're close.
"Already?" He lets out a gruffy cackle. "How could one day away from my cock turn your body into that of a... virgin?"
You whimper at the slight degration– if you could even call it that.
You reach your peak, moaning his name shakily. Of course, Sukuna doesn't stop. Actually, he thrusts harder, faster, groaning more. His tongue sticks out more, more of the tongue on your pussy, now moving up and down on your clit. You yelp and moan at the overstimulation. Your hips squirm, and your legs try desperately to close, but Sukuna uses his lower arms to spread the open and pressing your knees against the mattress.
You nails dig into his muscles as he continues thrusting into you, faster now than before.
"Mmm..." Sukuna groans. "...I missed this cunt so much..."
You moan shakily. "...I missed your dicks... I missed you..."
He leans over and kisses you roughly.
As he leaned over you, his tongue sticks out longer and enters your pussy. His tongue fucks you at the same time as his dick does. Sukuna groans as you moan weakly at the feeling of his tongue working on your pussy– as well as his dick, kind of. His tongue isn't that deep, obviously. Only an inch or two in. You can feel it barely missing your g-spot. But it feels so good either way.
You throw your head back, pulling away from the kiss and exposing your neck to him. He dives into your neck, kissing and softly biting at it.
Sukuna feels himself getting closer and closer, and so do you. He pulls away from you and straightens up. His hands keep your legs open as he delivers hard thrust after hard thrust until he spills inside of you with a low, raspy groan. His tongue goes back into his mouth. He pulls out just enough to where only his tip is inside and looks down, watching his cum leak out of you. He looks back up at you.
"...how much can you take?"
"A lot..."
Sukuna grunts and pulls out completely. He flips you over so you're on your hands and knees. He spreads your legs with his upper hands. His upper dick sits between your asscheeks, glistening from the previous round, as his lower dick is pressed against your pussy's entrance. You moan as he enters you again. Your cheek presses against the pillow, looking up at him.
His upper hands hold onto your hips, and his lower hands hold onto your ankles, holding your legs apart. He starts moving, fast and hard.
Your eyes look up at him, and his look down at you. You two make eye contact as he pounds into you. Your pupils are dilated and half-lidded. Sukuna's eyes are hazy with passion. The room is filled with sounds of your moans, skin slapping against skin, the bed creeking with every powerful thrust, and Sukuna's groans.
"Holy shit... you're so deep..." you whimper out.
"Yeah?" Sukuna grins. He holds your hips tighter and pounds deeper into you. The tip of his dick kisses your cervix with every thrust. It hurts... so good. "I'll touch your heart, lady." He teases.
"Kunaaa..." you whine out.
Your eyes never peel away from him. Your body is trembling in his hold as he thrusts in and out of you. You whimper and moan out his name. Occasionally, he groans out your name. And god, every time he does, it pushes you closer and closer to the edge. He just sounds so... needy.
He reaches out and grabs your chin. He pulls you up, forcing your back to arch more. Your faces are inches apart, his thrusts never slowing down.
"Mmm... you missed this cock, huh?"
You look up at him and nod. He squeezes your cheeks with his thumb and pointer finger, his sharp nails almost cutting you.
"Use your words."
"Yesh..." he leans down and pecks your puckered lips. He loosens his grip on your cheeks.
He presses his nose against yours. Your eyes shut as you start getting close again. Sukuna’s eyes go half-lidded, staring at you. Your moans get shakier and desperate. Finally, you reach the second orgasm of the night with a loud moan. Sukuna groans, feeling you tighten around his cock.
It doesn't take long for him to cum again. He presses a sloppy kiss as he cums deep inside you. Now you've milked both of his dicks.
His hand snakes over to cup your cheek, then kisses your jawline and neck. He doesn't pull out, his dick staying side of you, practically corking his cum inside of you.
Once he's done kissing you, he finally pulls out. Sukuna sits up on the bed, his back against the headboard. You crawl over to him, cuddling by his side. As his arms wrap around your shoulders and waist and pull you close to his chest, you pull a blanket over both of your hips, not caring that your bare chest is uncovered.
You look up at him. "I missed you a lot."
"Hm."
"I'm glad you made it back." You snuggle closer to him.
"I always make it back. I can't be touched by anyone. Alive or dead."
You let out a tired giggle and press your cheek against his chest, a small smile on your face.
only talking to sukuna's stomach mouth when he pisses you off
Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’.
Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face.
But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body.
Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days.
But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside.
When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?”
You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”
Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.
He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all.
His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.”
He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.
“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”
“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.
“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.
“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”
“I intend to,” his maw replies.
Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”
You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him."
“I’m warning you, do not–”
“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”
Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself.
And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him.
So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.
You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”
“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.
“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”
“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.
“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it.
“Well, I was thinking about it and–”
“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”
“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.”
“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”
“No. This ends now."
In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”
“…”
“The answer is both of them.”
Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.”
a/n: idk why the mouth is referring to him in third person...js to be annoying ig lol
“hey kuna…you ever heard of people using salmon sperm in skincare?”
“the hell—why would someone do that for?”
sukuna knew your skincare routine down to every single oil, every moisturiser and exactly what order you used them in. and fish sperm was not one of those things. at least he hoped it wasn’t.
“ugh my acne is back again.”
you hated the stupid pimples that lingered on your skin—constantly fighting the urge to just pop them all and hoping to god they disappear instead of leaving pesky little scabs.
“do you want me…to buy salmon sperm? where the fuck am i supposed to find that shit?”
“i had something else in mind.” you smiled at him, almost gently. it was then that sukuna knew that he was fucked. (heh)
—
“ffuuuck was this your plan all along?”
you were between his massive thighs, his cock flushed, leaking right infront of you while you spat on the palm of your hands, stroking his shaft slowly while he groaned, his head titled back while he tried to swallow his moans.
“well your cum will have to do right?”
you were placing kisses on his cock, licking a singular stripe before resting your head on his thigh while stroking him, his balls tightening as you squeezed your hand around him.
“m close—fuck you’re insane.”
you smiled against him, placing his dick close to your face while he came, your face now painted white with his cum, dripping down your chin while he looked down at you slowly.
“you’re a sick freak.”
“well we’re about to see if this works.” you smeared it across your face, before letting it sit for a couple of minutes, licking your fingers clean before you washed it off of your face.
—
“SUKUNA IT WORKED YOUR CUM IS MAGIC I LOVE YOU!” you squealed before leaping into his arms, the acne that was all over your face slowly disappearing while you stared at you, confused and a little scared.
“you’re…welcome, doll.”
“we are SO doing that again. skincare is expensive. why would i bother when my boyfriend’s cum is FREE.”
“am i just a free cumslut to you.” he said, almost serious.
“yes, yes you are baby.”
it deleted. fml and fuck tumblr too. gn. @yoonsucks @yorikae
dividers: @/pixopix .
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
Warnings: slapping, arguing, anger, jealousy, reader is just as cocky as sukuna is, nudity (no smut), fluff, implied death, maybe ooc at the end
Summary: A maid who cares for you and your husband– Sukuna– 's house seems to be feeling more and more carefree and bold with her very clear feelings towards your husband. It's up to you, now, to put her in her place.
♬: Me Quiere a Mi - Melymel
A/N: inspired by Lo Que La Vida me Robo 10/10 recommend
Again. It happened again.
That look, that way of talking, that body language. That woman keeps crossing the line.
Her eyes stare at him with longing. Her words, the way she talks, all sultry and seductive. Touching him ever so slightly– not enough to piss him off, but enough to be there. And every time you catch anything happening, she shoots you that daring look. That daring look to say something. Do something. As if you aren't his wife, the lady of the house.
Sometimes, she even frames you for things to get you in trouble with him. Making messes, framing you for attempting to run away, saying you insulted her, etc.
You lean against the wall, listening into the conversation. You hear her voice, talking lowly to another maid.
"Guess what I have?"
"What?"
There's a ding sound. Like a key.
They whisper more hushly, inaudible to your ears. After a bit, they separate. Miko, the housekeeper in question, turns the corner and stands face to face with you. You cross your arms, looking at her.
"What do you have in your hand, Miko?"
She stares at you, very obviously angry. She was always angry or annoyed when you're around. You know she hates you. After seconds of silence, she flips her hair behind her shoulder and speaks.
"Nothing."
You reach out and grab her wrist. She struggles as you pry her hand open, practically screaming at you to let go. You finally get what was in her hand in yours and look down at it. It was a key. A key that you recognize goes to a safe with money in it. You slowly look up at her still angry expression.
"You planned to rob us."
"No, I didn't." Her volume increases.
"Then explain the key, Miko." Your volume increases.
There was another pause.
"I can't stand you anymore. I hate you. You're a money-hungry, lowlife slut. Lord Sukuna can't see through you, but I can. I'm not blind."
"You dare insult me? And then insult Sukuna’s intelligence? What was your plan with the money if not to steal it? To frame me for stealing from my husband? Get me in trouble again?"
"Yes! Maybe after a couple of more headaches, Lord Sukuna will finally be able to see through you and get rid of you."
"He's not getting rid of me in any way, anytime soon. I'm here to stay, and you better fix your childish attitude and deal." You end your sentence with a snap of your fingers close to her face. Miko pushes your hand away from her, and you let her.
"You're a pest, [Name]. How could he have chosen someone like you?" She looks at you in almost disgust.
"Ask my husband. And don't call me by my name. Is just as high as Sukuna, and you will refer to me as such."
"Oh? Now you see yourself as high as Lord Sukuna?"
"I am the lady of this house and share a pedestal with my husband. Ever since we married and until once of us dies, I will share that pedestal. Am I clear, Miko?"
"You have some audacity, [name]."
You simply shrug. "Get out of my sight. We'll continue to talk later."
She smugly smiles. "That's what I thought."
You roll your eyes as she walks past you. You storm up to the room where the safe sat. You open it and check inside. Nothing looks out of place. Thank god. You lock it again and put the key in your bra. You don't trust it to just be sitting in a drawer for Miko to steal again.
You storm into a room a couple of doors down to a training room. Sukuna is there, training as usual. All the training equipment was huge, of course, and custom made for Sukuna himself. Regular human equipment looks bite-sized to him.
He laid on a bench, raising and lowering a barbell in his upper hands while he curls smaller weights in each of his lower hands. You walk up to him, standing by his legs.
"Can we talk?"
Sukuna looks at you, brows frowed, sweat coating his body. He sighs and sets the barbell on the holder, and drops the two smaller weights. He sits up on the bench, a leg on each side of the bench with his elbows on his knees.
"What do you want?"
"I'm going to fire Miko."
"Who the hell is Miko?"
"A maid here?"
He stares at you, annoyed. "I don't care. Don't bother me while I'm training."
Sukuna lays back down onto the bench to continue his workout. God, he looks so hot right now. You stare at his sweat coated body as he continues his training.
"[Name]." His voice is stern. You know he's commanding you to leave just by his tone.
"Fine, fine. I'll see you later."
"Bath at 6."
"I know, Kuna. I'll be there."
And with that, you leave the room.
Instead of going straight to Miko, you do a couple more things. Nothing drastic or against her. Just calmly walked around the castle, then outside, just thinking.
When you come back inside, you search out for Miko. You find her in the living room. And you get straight to the point.
"Miko?"
She sighs. "[Name]."
"You're fired. Get out."
She takes a couple of seconds to reply. "I'm fired?"
"Yes. Now go."
"Did Lord Sukuna command you to tell me this?"
"My husband doesn't command me anything. He asks me."
The fury in her eyes seems to grow. "Then I'm not going. I only take orders from the king."
"Do I need to repeat myself? I'm the lady of this house, and just as you bow down to Sukuna, you will bow to me." Your volume increases.
"I love him."
Silence.
"Oh really? But you know what? You're not going to mess with my husband." Raise your hand and slap her across the face. Hard. She stumbles back, holding her cheek. You grab grab her by the hair and take her stand tall and look at you.
"Let go of me!" She tries to pull away from your grip. You let go, causing her to fall backward onto the sofa. She immediately gets back up and walks close to you. "You'll regret laying a hand on m-"
You slap her across the face on the opposite side.
"Leave. Get out. Pack your shit up and go... or go now and find your shit tossed in the river."
"What right do you have to touch me?!" She raises her arm to slap you, but you catch her wrist.
"You don't want me to call Sukuna and let him know you attempted to strike me if you watn your head connected to your neck." You throw her arm down.
"You have no power over me. Your status as his wife comes from not love, but how you warm his be-"
You cut her off by slapping her again. "How many strikes will you take before you listen to me and go?!"
"The fuck is going on?"
The deep voice behind you rung out. You turn around and make eye contact with your husband, Sukuna. He's still sweaty, his "athletic wear" pants, and no shirt still on. You both look pissed, Miko's hair a mess from your hits.
"Uraume informed me of a cat fight."
...♡...
Uraume knocks on the training room door and walks in.
"Sir. Lady [name] and Miko are fighting. It's getting physical."
Sukuna grumbles and puts the weights down again and sits up, pushing sweaty hair out of his face.
"Who the hell is Miku? For fucks sake."
He gets up and starts walking out of the room.
"Miko, sir."
"Yeah, yeah."
Uraume sighs and follows behind him.
...♡...
You turn to Miko.
"Tell him, Miko. Tell him what you told me." You step closer to her, noticing how her eyes panickly flicker between Sukuna and yours as she pants. "Tell my dear husband how much you love him."
Sukuna looks at Miko, raising an eyebrow with angry eyes and a nose scrunch. His face reads confusion and disgust.
"Tell him how of a lousy money-hungry slut I am. Tell him how I dont love him, but you do. Tell him how he's too blind to see how much of a whore I am. Go on."
There was silence before Sukuna broke the silence.
"You dare insult my wife in my own home and insult my intelligence?"
Miko watches in fear as Sukuna’s hand goes up in a way that everyone knows means death. You grab his arm before he can hurt her, making him stop and look at you. Your eyes stayed on Miko.
"Why are you still here? Go!"
Sukuna hooks and arm around you and kisses your head, looking at her as you look at her with a smug face. She turns and runs away, straight to the staff quarters. You contemplate telling him about her plan on robbing him, but you know that if you do while she's still here, one of your hands won't stop him from killing her right in your home. And you love your freshly cleaned, smooth wooden floors. You turn around to face him, and Sukuna straightens up and takes his arm off of you.
"You spare her life after the slew of insults she said your way?"
"I'm not. Kill her once she's outside. I don't want blood on the furniture. I'll be in the bedroom." You start to walk away.
He grins and nods. "Oi. The bath."
"Oh yeah, right. I'll be there." You blow him a kiss and walk away. You find Uraume in the kitchen– as usual– and you talk to them.
"Uraume? Please make sure Miko is gone in the next few minutes."
"Yes ma'am."
"Thank you." You shoot them a smile and go upstairs to the bath.
♡...
Sukuna is laying in the filled, warm bathtub, his back against the wall of the tub. You're sat between his legs, your back against his chest. Both sets of his arms wrap around you– his lower set around your middle while his upper set is around your shoulders. Both of your bodies are wet, the room filled with comforting silence. You play with one of the essential herbs that are placed in the tub.
"Kuna?"
"Hm."
You hesitate for a second. You have to tell him about the money. Why are you hesitating? She called you a slut and tried to steal your husband?
"Miko tried stealing from you."
There was a pause. "What?"
"She stole the key to the safe and planned to steal it all and put the blame on me so you'd get angry at me. I heard it, and she confirmed it."
"The audacity of that woman." He shakes his head.
"Yeah. She got what she had coming to her."
"How kind you are." He says sarcastically.
You roll your eyes. "Kind." You mock him.
"Don't mock me, woman."
"Well... now you know. If your money goes missing, she has someone here avenging her."
"I'll make a statement tomorrow morning. Anything like this ever happens again, and they'll be mounted on the walls like deer."
"Mmmm..."
He sets his chin on your head as you keep playing with the herbs.
"You're real sexy when you're jealous." He grins.
"I wasn't jealous."
"Ah? Then what did you call that show you put on?"
"It was the.... lack of respect."
"Ohhhhhh lack of respect?"
"She was treating me like an insect. Like I'm not a key role in this damn house."
"Awwwwwwe poor girl."
"Sukuna."
He lets out a cackle.
"...mounted like a deer doesn't sound too bad. Human heads as decoration."
"You'd like that, crazy?" He kisses the side of your head. "I can make that happen."
"I'm not crazy." You slap his arm. "I just know good decoration when I see it."
He kisses your head again.
"So you want Miku's head mounted on our wall?"
You don't bother correcting him. "Nah. Too ugly to be put on display. Eat her or throw her away, I don't care. I'm just glad the bitch is gone."
"What entertainment I had today."
You roll your eyes and look back at him. "Enough talk about her. Don't ruin my bath."
He hums and presses a kiss on your head as you snuggle closer to him under the water. His kisses trail down your neck.
"I love you, Kuna."
"It's evident."
You know he loves you too. As much as his stubborn ass doesn't want to say it out loud. And after today, it almost felt like your feelings towards each other grew. His towards you because of how adamant you were to be by his side– and yours towards him because of the absence of hesitation to get rid of someone that hurt you.
Characters: Jimmy Hopkins (Bully), older sister!reader
(Jimmy and reader are step siblings, same mom, different dads)
Warnings : emotional stuff, angst, fluff, sibling banter, Jimmys more soft around reader, deep talks, mommy issues, a lot of dialog
Summary: You're 21, and your younger brother, Jimmy, is 15. You live in a town close to the new private school your mother put Jimmy in after his seventh expulsion. He visits almost daily, mainly at lunchtime or at night. This day isn't out of the ordinary. He's coming over at lunch, going back to school, and when night falls, he's coming right back. For some reason, both of you are down in the dumps, leaving each other to comfort each other.
♬: DNA Garantee - Kodi Rhianne
A/N: Jimmy swags
It was 12 pm. You were sweeping your ridiculously small, cheap house. It's in a dodgy neighborhood and looks like a shed a little but but yeah, it works. You were young, broke, in debt from college. You were lucky to even have a roof over your head. A home is a home– even if it's sketchy.
You're sweeping the wooden living room floors, headphones on, picking up all the dust, dirt, and whatever else was dragged in from the outside. Back to the front door, you stop sweeping suddenly. Something caught your attention.
You don't know why, but this day, in particular, you were very emotional. Damn your complicated emotions that you got from your mother. You cried today already. Why must you always play sad music and watch sad movies and think sad thoughts when you're already sad? Who knows. You were always lashing out, caving in, cowering, holding grudges, or forgiving too fast. Even after getting kicked out at 17 by your mother, you still held love in your heart for her. But also hate. It's complicated.
You pick up what caught your eye. A framed photograph of your little brother, James– er, Jimmy, as everybody calls him. It was of his 10th birthday. He made it a big deal because, hey, it's his birthday, but you made it a huge deal. You remember. On his birthday, you and him snuck out of the house to celebrate. Your mother never really celebrated your birthdays, so you two celebrated together. But this one was special. It was his first birthday where his age reached the double digits. You took him to the ice cream shop that day, and the two of you sat on the tables outside by the sidewalk. You placed a candle on the ice cream, lit it, and took a picture of him. He had a big, cheesy, awkward smile. Jimmy's left front tooth was chipped with tiny scrapes on his face– which he all got by trying to do stunts and failing.
You look down at the picture, memories flooding back. Here come the waterworks. You tear up, reminiscing. Wiping away your tears and-
"Hey, I'm not dead, y'know? I'm right here?"
You practically jump out of your skin, yanking off your headphones, very obviously scared. It was Jimmy. Wait, how'd he get in?
"What the fuck, Jim?! How'd you get in?!"
"This is a really sketchy neighborhood, [name], you should probably lock your door."
"Fuck... next time, tap my shoulder or something. Don't just creep up on me like that." You set the picture down back on the counter.
"Last time I did that, you punched me."
"Whatever."
You wipe your eyes more, trying to hide the fact that you were just crying over him.
"What's up with you anyway?"
You shoo him away. "I'm a mess today. It's nothing."
"I can tell," he mutters against his breath. You shoot him a look, and he looks around , feigning cluelessness.
You quickly sweep the pile of dust and dirt into a corner and prop up the broom against the wall. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, kind of."
"No, no "kind of". Yes or no."
He rolls his eyes. "Yes."
"Kay." You walk to the kitchen and look through your fridge to look for something to cook up for him. You pull out some leftover parm mac and cheese from the night before, serving some on a plate and popping it in the microwave. You put some bread in the toaster. Once the mac and cheese is done, you take it out of the microwave and set it on the counter. Once the bread is done, you pull out some butter from the fridge and spread some on the bread. You set the bread on the corner of the plate of mac and cheese and stick a fork in the food. You put a small dish towel under the plate and grab a cola can from the fridge.
You walk into the living room to where Jimmy is. He's slouched on the couch, legs in a slight manspread as he watches the TV.
"What are you watching?" You raise an eyebrow and set his food down onto the coffetable in front of him. With his eyes glued to the TV, he sits up to start eating.
"WWE. Thank you."
He starts eating, the plate on his lap, as he watches the fight on the TV. You sit next to him, watching the TV with him.
He's almost done with his food when you look away from the screen and look at your brother. You notice something. His fists were bruised and battered up. You frown and scoot up on the seat. The movement caused Jimmy to look at you. You grab one of his hands to examine his still bloodied fists.
"What the fuck, Jimmy?"
He swallows his food and puts down his plate.
"What happened to you?"
"What hasn't?"
"James."
"...there was another fight."
You grab his face, looking for any damage to his face. He frowns as you inspect him.
"You don't have a hit on you."
"Yeah. 'Cause I won."
You sigh and let go of him. You look down at his knuckles.
"You know I don't like when you fight."
It's Jimmy's turn to sigh. "I have to, [nickname]. That school's full of maniacs, rich snobs, bullies, and losers. I'm just trying to bring order to that shithole and protect myself while I'm at it."
"...just don't like seeing you hurt."
He leans back onto the couch backing. "I know. But I'm days into this school and..." he trails off.
"And?"
"Everybody hates me. I haven't done anything, and it's like the entire world is against me. I have to fight or I'll be the school's bitch or something."
You get more comfortable on the couch and swing an arm around his shoulders.
"Is it really that bad?"
"Yeah..." Quieter, he says, "...I almost thought I had a friend."
"What happened?"
"I don't know. I had a friend one day, and the next, he somehow turned the whole school against me. He's psycho or something."
"Mm."
You push his head towards you, so he lays his head on your shoulder. You rest your cheek against his head. You know Jimmy had a hard time keeping friends. Whether it was because of the constant moving from his constant expulsions or his intimidating nature that drove people away. It saddened you– probably more than it saddened him– that he's still struggling in that area.
"So nobody's in your corner, hm?"
"Pete."
"Huh?"
"The closest thing to a friend I have."
"Well, that's good at least. You have somebody."
"What's one person who tolerates me in a crowd of people who want me dead?" He scoots closer to you.
"Dead? What'd you do for them to want you dead?"
"I wish I knew."
A couple of seconds of silence pass. Your position shifts, so he's leaning against your shoulder blade, and your arms are around him, on top of his arms.
"Somebody is better than nobody, Jim."
"I guess."
"...it's not your fault, y'know?"
"Huh?"
"It's not your fault your life was built like this. You were just... unlucky."
God, he needed to hear that. As much as he tries to act like a tough, hard guy, he's still a kid. A kid who was dealt bad hand after bad hand in life. The only good hand he was dealt was you.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Why were you crying at my picture earlier?"
You stayed silent for a bit. He looked up at you. You don't look at him back.
"I was remembering stuff. It doesn't matter."
Jimmy frowns and sits up, getting out of your arms completely.
"Like hell it doesn't matter. I just spilled my guts out. It's your turn."
You stayed silent for a bit. "... I was just remembering how it used to be before I left. How... happy we made our situation be when it wasn't."
Here come the tears. You wipe your eyes, looking away from him. You were both emotional in your own ways; Jimmy took the sadness and anger out with violence, and you with sorrow and tears. You've never really seen Jimmy cry, and he's never really seen you get violent. Mad, yes, but not violent.
Jimmy never knows how to react when you cry in front of him. It was only when you grew into adulthood that you cried in front of him. When he was a kid, you'd hide away to cry. But of course, he didn't know that. Right? Surely not.
He leans in to hug you again, going back into the position you two were in. Finally, he speaks.
"Life sucks dick."
"And chokes on it and dies."
"Mm." He agrees.
"Hey, when do you have to go b-"
"It's not your fault either."
"...huh?"
"It's not your fault this is your life either. It's none of our faults..." A pause. "...what a mother we were dealt."
"...you still love her, don't you?"
"...yeah."
Of course he did. That's his mom. No matter how much hurt she caused him, at heart, he's still a little boy wondering why his mom doesn't care for him like the stories say a mother should. You have resentment. You're grown. You understand now. But you're not crushing your brother's spirit by dragging your mom in the mud. You know it will be easier to digest if he takes the first bite himself.
"I love you."
You stay silent for a bit. It was rare he said it, but not unknown. "I love you too, Jim."
You feel him let out a small sigh and smile against your shoulder.
"Hey Jimmy?"
"Yeah?"
"You're a good person."
You've told him that a lot. That he was a good and moral person. He wanted to believe you so badly. But it was hard. You knew it was hard. After all the insults coming from all directions spat his way ever since he was small, it was hard to think they weren't true. But you knew with time, he will accept your words.
"Under that hard exterior," you continue, "you have a good heart."
Jimmy's silent.
You continue. "All you are is a product of your environment. And you turned out damn good for how we grew up."
"... you think so?"
"I know so." "So... how are your grades?"
Jimmy rolls his eyes. You were always so academic centric. "Fine."
"What's "fine"? Passing or barely passing?"
"I'm passing. I have high scores last time I checked."
"Good good. Keep it up, don't fall behind."
"I know, I know."
"Speaking of school... when did lunchtime end?"
Jimmy looks over at a clock you have hung on the wall. It takes him a second to read it.
"Shit. Well. Ended 20 minutes ago."
"What?!"
As much as you wanted him close, you pushed him off of you and pulled him to stand.
"I'm going to the carnival today at 7. You're coming with–
Jimmy lets out a quiet "oh" as you speak quickly.
– I'm not going alone. Stay safe. Don't die. I love you." You say while you shove him towards the door. You kiss his forehead twice at the door.
"Okay, enough [nickname]–"
"Bye. Cya." You kiss his cheek as you hand him his skateboard– which he had propped up next to the front door from when he came in and scared the shit out of you– and calmly shut the door with him outside.
Jimmy sighs once he's outside, but not in an annoyed way. You watch from the window as he skates away back to school. You worry about him a lot, sure. But you know he's not the weak little boy he used to be. He's still a little boy, but he's much stronger now, and you know– better than anyone– that Jimmy Hopkins never loses a fight.
