#stone faced droid

[motherroam-rs]

Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones

NSFW - 18+

Warnings/Tags : Cockwarming, Nightmares, Mentions of Trauma and PTSD, Angst, Comfort, Love Confessions

Relationship: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Summary: After solitary confinement on Mount Tantiss, Crosshair is plagued by nightmares that lead him to seek comfort in your body.

A/N : Wrote and posted this to AO3 before season 3 but wanted to put it here too 🫡 I just had this angsty lil thing in my head about how a touch starved Cross would deal with physical contact after the empire 🫶 (even though I firmly believe Tech survived the fall - he’s dead for the purpose of this I’m SORRY)

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The sharp hit to your ribs has you springing into a sitting position, eyes wild and scanning the room for a threat. Muscle memory from years in the war has you reaching for the blaster and pointing it towards various shadows in the room.

You would be a lousy shot with the way your hand shook from the adrenaline in your veins. But, there are no imperial agents hiding in your room, no battle droids under your bed, the source of the attack lays next to you, writhing against imaginary forces in his nightmare.

Crosshair.

Abandoning the blaster on the floor, you work on tearing the bedsheets away from him before he can tangle himself any further in the restrictive fabric. Every muscle in his body seems to be rigid, even once you manage to free him, but he still thrashes, as if fighting against invisible restraints.

The sight of his struggle has your stomach forming knots.

“Crosshair, wake up,” your pleading hands press to his shoulder, thankful that the prominence of his collarbones has eased over the last few weeks, but he’s still nowhere close to as healthy he was the last time you saw him before the war had ended.

Unlike the rest of the batch, you hadn’t seen Crosshair during his time under the empire, and although during his absence you were thankful for it, this only made it worse the day his brothers brought him home.

Crosshair had always been the leanest of them, you had even joked with him on several occasions that he resembled the toothpicks which always hung from his lips, but the breath had been stolen from your body when Echo half-carried him down the walkway. Crosshairs face was almost as hollow as Echo’s had been after Skako Minor, and it was now flecked in silver stubble, with a large scar that stretched across the side of his head where patches of hair were entirely missing.

Just as the pair passed you by, Crosshairs eyes had met your own. You were used to a range of emotions in them, from heated glares and desire filled gazes, occasionally there was even an amused look that framed his eyes with a hint of laughter lines. However, what you didn’t prepare yourself for was for them to be entirely void of any emotion, it was if you were just one of the stone pillars that lined the streets.

After a week in the infirmary, it became evident that Crosshair couldn’t sleep alone. With Hunter preoccupied with Omega, the responsibility fell to Echo the first few nights, he was the closest to understanding Crosshairs situation after all.

On the third day after the rescue, Hunter had told you although Omega was kept somewhat safe with another female clone, they had found Crosshair in solitary confinement. Something deep in your chest broke at the unsaid weight of the information. Despite his aversion to most people, Crosshair had spent years of being in tight living spaces with his brothers, only to be thrown in a cell alone for maker knows how long.

Maybe this was why he gravitated towards you once he was finally in good enough physical condition to be released from the infirmary.

Between Echo’s own complicated relationship with sleep, Wrecker’s inability to not snore and wake everyone in the immediate vicinity, and Hunters responsibility for Omega, it was you who took him in.

If Tech was still here, he would have been the one to stay with Crosshair. You push that thought down, but the pain still resonates in your chest.

You give Crosshair another shake, and the second your other hand presses to the bare skin of his face, his eyes snap open. He lashes out like a snarling animal trapped in a snare, gripping both your wrists and pinning you beneath him with a speed that causes the room to spin around you.

“It’s just me, Cross.” You speak in a hushed tone, attempting to calm him as you fight against his grip.

Reality bleeds into his eyes, momentarily easing his pained expression, but then he’s choking on the air, collapsing onto you.

“I need,” although his face is buried in your neck, you hear the emotion crack his voice, and you already know the broken look that on his face. “Please, I need you.”

“It’s okay, Cross.” You nod and widen your legs, allowing his hips to settle between them. Your bodies act on the familiar routine you had both fallen into over the last few months since he moved into your spare room - which he has still never spent a night in. Crosshairs shakes have already begun to ease with the contact, his hands have at least stilled enough so he can effectively rid you both of the few items of clothing until you were bare against each other.

He coils himself around you at first, as if he were a snake trying to suffocate its prey, but you only wrap your arms around him in return, welcoming his touch. You aren’t certain if it’s the solitary confinement that made him need the contact, or if it’s some lingering effect of the chip, but either way you still offer yourself to him.

Seemingly unable to wait for his heart to settle, he chases the comfort only you can provide, and begins the slow push of himself inside you. Crosshair’s breaths are escaping him in desperate pants and he’s pressing as much of himself to you as possible, seeking the warmth of your body to drive away the sensation of the cold interrogation table that plagued his mind.

The stretch burns with the little preparation you have, and Crosshair senses your silent discomfort. He draws his hips back with a mumbled apology, so only the tip remains inside you, and draws slow circles on your clit with his thumb. It doesn’t take long for the resistance to ease with your wetness, and soon enough he’s rocking back into you with a groan, allowing you time to adjust.

He doesn’t attempt to bring you to the precipice, or anywhere close to it. Once he fully settles into you, his hand withdraws and instead tangles itself in your hair.

Right now Crosshairs need for you isn’t sexual, despite what it seems.

Some nights it will delve into more once his body relaxes, and he’ll take his time to have you come undone beneath him with more care and attention than he had ever possessed before the rise of the empire. But tonight, as he does most nights, he stills once fully seathed inside you, his only desire being your embrace.

“Where was it this time?” Sometimes he would answer, but other times he would give a slight shake to his head in response.

“Barton-4, then the interrogation room.” His voice is strained, and you recall everything he’s already told you about these places, specifically the haunting memory of Mayday’s death.

“You’re safe, we’re both safe, Crosshair.” You press a kiss to his temple as if it would help the promise sink into his mind. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, cradling him against your neck as the other traces patterns on his back.

It takes a few minutes of silence for his breathing to fall in sync with yours, and despite his cock being inside you, the light exhale against your neck has your face heating at the intimacy. His shakes have entirely ceased now, and you think he’s fallen asleep, until you hear the broken whisper.

“I love you.”

Your body freezes at the admission, both hands stopping their comforting movements. His throat bobs against your neck with a dry swallow, and you wonder if it’s his body trying to subconsciously take back the words.

You had been somewhat together during the clone wars, but it was never emotionally intimate. He had a physical need for you in a way that led to fucking you from behind against almost every surface on the marauder. And yet, true to his cold nature he never faced you, or even kissed you. Once he finished, he would neaten his armour and leave without a goodbye, yet you would still allow him back every time he gave the word.

“Crosshair-“ you start, but he’s cutting you off before your mouth can form another syllable.

“I know it’s not the right time to say it, but I do, I always have.” He rasps, trying to force the confession out in one breath, as if ripping the bacta patch off a wound.

Always have?

Your mind begins unravelling years of your self-imposed torture during the clone wars from biting down your feelings, pretending not to care when some pretty girl inevitably threw herself at him in a bar.

“You need to sleep.” He bites out, hurt evident in his tone at your lack of response, but he doesn’t dare peel himself away from you. Despite the hurt seeping into him, he’s too selfish to let you go unless you ask him to leave.

“Crosshair.” There’s no response, but something possesses you to reach out anyways, and you’re pressing your hand to his face, craning your neck to meet his stare. His eyes are open, but still avoid your own.

Your brush your nose against his, and your thumb traces over the sharp angle of his jaw, memorising the way he ever-so-slightly leans into your touch.

“I love you too.”

His eyes close, a shaky breath of relief escaping his lips. Crosshair had never needed a helmet to mask his emotions before his brothers brought him back to Pabu, back to you. His face had always been set in an ever cold smirk, whether it be when he was taunting a reg, on a stealth mission, or when you caught glimpses of him in mirrored surfaces in the marauder as he fucked himself into you. However, at your words, something akin to peace washes over his face, allowing it to morph into a rare expression of something softer, like that of a soldier returning from battle finally setting eyes on his home.

When the morning comes, you half expect the bed to be cold, or at least as cold as it can be in the climate of Pabu, but when the midday sun casts its warming rays over your skin, he’s still inside of you. Slender limbs have tangled with your own and his face is nestled against your neck, but you can tell from his breathing that he’s already awake.

“Stay.” It’s a whispered prayer against your skin, a desperate plea to some deity that seems to have abandoned him long ago in that cell on Mount Tantiss. But you don’t think the gods, the Empire or even the force could keep you apart now, and you don’t want them to. You press your forehead to his, a wordless answer to him that you aren’t going anywhere, that he’ll never have to be alone again.

#tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #tbb crosshair #crosshair bad batch #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #bad batch

[graylinesspam]

She's never been so close to the front before. Ahsoka is 14 years old. she's been a padawan for a month and on her first day she hid in a box while enemy troops marched over her.

On her first day, she blew up their shields, disabled their communications, and subsequently ended an entire month-long siege that freed a planet of innocent civilians.

Today is not her first day. it's day twenty-eight actually. Twenty-eight days since she became a padawan learner and she has never been this close to death before.

Explosive shells rain down from the sky, striking the ground and throwing dust and debris in her eyes. she doesn't actually know where she is except that its somewhere she probably should't be.

maybe the worst part Is that she is alone. she's seen glimpses of white armor in the chaos, some running beside her or ahead of her. but they were all too far away to speak to. She never did get a comm. they didn't have any that would fit on her wrist. Anakin said he'd ordered a few in her size. they'd come in with the next resupply. but for now, she didn't have any way of contacting anyone.

The explosions seem to be getting closer to her location but with the ringing in her montrals it's hard to tell. She knows that her feet have grown more unsteady but there's no way to tell if that's due to the ground quaking beneath her or the fatigue growing in her limbs.

another shell lands and nearly throws her to the ground. the immediate bloom of heat across her body answers the question of where they are dropping. Before Ahsoka can reorient herself there's an arm wrapping itself around her middle and hauling her backward away from the blast.

"We have to take cover," the trooper yells. it's the first familiar and measurable sound she's heard in hours. and it makes the explosions sound louder by comparison.

He drags her back through the dust somehow navigating to some kind of rock formation. She can't see much of it through all the dust in the air but she can make out where some of the structure has been blasted off, blackened shards left facing her.

"Where are we going?" she shouts back.

"Here," he responds. "Can't push any further. the only way back is through no man's land. can't risk it."

He wedges them into the rock as far from the blackened crater's face as they can push before the path ends at a sheer rock that they're stuck with their backs pressed against.

"So we just stay here? for how long?"

"As long as it takes."

Ahsoka squirms. He'd pressed her down into the far corner and sat between her and the battlefield. His body pressed against her shoulder to hip. His form obscured hers completely.

"Do we have to stay like this? can't I stretch?"

His hand comes up to cover her mouth. The shake of his helmet was distinct against the side of her head. "There's droid patrols. we have to stay low and quiet."

When Ahsoka quieted her breathing and listened she could hear the slightest clanging of droids between the explosions.

A sensation of entrapment washed over her, with the plastoid digging into her side and the rock on the other. with the sounds of explosions in two directions and the clanking of droids between them. And with her own efforts to choke down her breaths as quietly as possible. she could feel the panic spreading through her blood.

It was not her first day, but it was the first time she was in this position. And she didn't know the first thing about how to handle it.

Despite her best efforts, her breath came faster through the cracks in his fingers. His hand grew tighter pinching her skin as the clanking grew closer. She could see them in flashes as the shells exploded and flashed hot light through the filthy air, soiled with dirt and death. the shadows of the enemy were cast onto the stone parallel to them.

His body pressed harder into her crushing her against the rock trying to compress the two of them into the smallest space possible.

She couldn't count her heartbeats through the pounding in her ears. nor her breaths through his hand. Every calming exercise the jedi had taught her was useless in the face of this.

But as their shadows had grown shorter and clearer they again grew tall and blurry as the danger passed. in minutes the hand he'd used to gag her fell back away, the exposure leaving her pallid skin burning.

"Sorry." was all he said as he finally leaned away, the barest space between them now. his helmet fell back against the wall with a sound almost as quiet as his relieved breath.

She gasped in grimy breaths until she could feel her heart slow into a healthier rhythm.

She isn't sure exactly when night falls. only that it swallows the already dark battlefield in an all-consuming blackness. And still the blinking explosions try in vein to burn it away.

The time passes slowly. or maybe not at all. it's agonizing.

All the joints in her body ache from being folded in the same position for so long. And her lungs burn from the smoke and grime. Still, they wait for the battle to wane.

Again the droids come and go their shadows less prominent as the shells slow their rain. but it only makes the sound of their enemy louder and longer. They sit in tense silence as they listen to them.

Sometimes when the clanking gets loud her hand tightens over his arm guard tension turning her fingers to claws. His hand pats her own arm back in a gesture of reassurance.

She begins to nod off despite everything. Not even the stress in her veins was able to keep her system running forever. still, her sleep is light and she's jolted from it at every suspicious noise.

Ahsoka can't tell if he's sleeping at all under that helmet. But her self-appointed guard doesn't move from his spot as her shield. Not for what must have been hours.

As the fight finally wanes, she finally fades into a real sleep. Unsure how much of the night remains. It's blaster shots that startle her awake. She's sure she's not the only one because his body jolts hard into hers. His hand is already over her mouth before she can draw a breath to scream.

There's a droid standing within sight. it scans across the rocks, blaster raised and ready. The metallic thudding of the rest of its party just out of sight.

The two of them scramble up quickly. The trooper raised his rifle and fired back at the droid. the shot echoed loudly off the stone and the droid's body fell with a clamor to the ground.

"Run," he shouted facing back towards the sound of the other droids as Ahsoka booked it from their hiding place.

She could hear the pound of his boots behind her and the sound of the pursuing droids. Shots rang out from two kinds of blasters as they scrambled toward the no man's land. though the explosions had petered off to nearly nothing the air was still thick and the visibility low. Ahsoka counted that a mark in their favor since they'd be crossing a flat wide expanse in the enemies line of sight with zero back up.

The barest rays of the early morning light were her only guide. She knew it rose from the opposite side of their camp. it she simply ran into it, she'd get to safety eventually.

That was easier said than done with the ground pocked with craters and their displaced stone loose under her boots.

Somehow the sound of droids was only growing louder despite the low visibility. Her breaths grew loud and desperate and she could barely hear the trooper's steps behind her anymore. "Keep going!" he shouted.

The sound of blaster fire picked up and Ahsoka threw everything she had into her sprint. Every inch of energy and all the power she had in the force pushed her forward. She struggled to stay upright as rocks rolled under her feet.

She was startled as she broke through the dust cloud and could see the camp coming into sight. Other troopers were already gathered at the edge, craning their helmets to get a look at what was making all that noise. Rifles aimed in her direction.

But as they caught sight of her two broke away from the line and rushed forward with their rifles lowered. They jogged to her and grabbed her by either arm, dragging her into camp and behind the line of soldiers still aiming their blasters into the dust cloud.

Ahsoka dug her heels in when they tried to drag her away. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse between the line of soldiers.

The next figure that broke through the cloud was not the trooper, it was a droid. And it was executed on sight by what had become a firing squad. Another droid went down, then another, again and again.

Ahsoka didn't count them all. She just knew there were too many. too many droids.

Eventually, she was dragged away.

Anakin was relieved to have her back.

when the dust settled down to the ground again Ahsoka walked through the battlefield. But she couldn't tell one set of armor from another.

Ahsoka has been a padawan for one month, and this mission is the first time she has to fill out the casualties section of her mission report. But she realizes very quickly that she has no information to put down.

She doesn't know his rank or his designation number. She doesn't even know his name. There's a whole page of questions asking for identifiers of the clone who lost his life defending hers. And she has to leave it blank.

There is no database that can identify him based on the way he drug her from danger. Or the way he shielded her with his own body. Or kept her calm in the face of imminent danger.

There isn't anyone who can tell her who he was. All that's left of him is a painful memory.

#star wars #ahsoka tano #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw #501st #clone oc #clone trooper #whump #or angst #i barely know the difference

[kindasleepywriter]

The way to a droid's heart (Cal Kestis x BountyHunter!Reader)

Based on this wonderful request. Always open to hearing more ideas!

Summary: Cal demonstrates what happens to those who mess with you. Warnings: Implied and explicit threats, that's about it Word count: 2.9k

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never understood how Cal Kestis was still alive. When you had met him 6 years ago, you’d been just as idealistic and adventure-seeking as he was. The years that followed, however, had changed you and shaped you for survival. Dreams didn’t get you very far, not in the galaxy like this one.

You’d quickly lost hope of ever becoming a fighter pilot when you’d realized the few rebel cells were dropping like flies, all at the Empire’s hand. One lone pilot wouldn’t make a difference out there, you’d concluded, and from that moment you’d just tried not to end up as space rubble like your parents. You’d ended up as a bounty hunter instead, a damned-good one, and you took what joy you could while chasing bounties all over space.

Cal, on the other hand, never seemed to lose his ambition of defeating the Empire. Not that he’d ever told you that’s what he was doing, of course, but only a space slug could’ve been so blind as to not see it. He wasn’t exactly being subtle, making no effort to conceal the weapon at his side and giving his real name to anyone who might have asked. His ever-growing collection of scars didn’t portray him as a man who sat around waiting for change, either.

Perhaps you’d ask about them, one day.

--

You watched from the far end of a bar you’d never tried learning the name of, as a stoned-faced Pantoran you didn’t recognize spoke with Cal. You couldn’t quite hear their conversation but, with the way BD-1 had whizzed in boredom for a good 10 minutes before scurrying off to scan whatever he could find, you could deduce they weren’t exactly talking about their latest game of holo-chess.

You turned back to your drink, flipping up your hood and shaking your head softly at the man’s persistence. On the move, as always.

You were starting to come to terms with the fact that your contact wouldn’t be showing up. You’d already sighed watching your watch more times than you could count, annoyed at the inconvenience of flying so far into the outer rim for nothing. It had been a pain negotiating your meeting too, the contact insisting on you being alone with no weapons. You’d eventually faked giving in, choosing to keep your rifle and pistol on board your currently broken down S40K and instead hiding vibro-blades inside your boots.

The ship was already on its last legs when you got it, the only reason why you’d been able to pay, but the years had caught up with it in the last two months. You spent almost all of your money on maintaining it in the air, and you were running out of funds fast.  The anticipated need to buy another cheap but more reliable hunk of metal was what had caused you to pick up another bounty only a few days after your last.

Normally, you liked to spread out jobs over a few weeks to enjoy the credits you made, but the sputtering of your engines when you’d crash landed into this city’s landing dock had made clear you couldn’t afford the luxury this time.

You were nearing the bottom of your drink, trying to plan a way off this planet without mounting any more personal debts to anyone, when you felt a small nudge at your right foot. You looked down, expecting to see some rodent or pest trying to eat through your sole, but were instead met with a little red and white hyperactive droid.

You scanned the room quickly to make sure no one was looking, and stretched a hand in his direction so he could haul himself up onto the cushioned booth. He didn’t hesitate to scramble up your arm, emitting a few whizzes and beeps of thanks on the way.

“Hey, beedee,” you greeted him flatly. “Thought I finally managed to evade your scans this time; guess I was wrong.”

A low whistle and a trill.

“I know, I know, you see everything. It’s hard to forget when you always choose to remind me at least twenty times every time you find me.”

He emitted a series of approving noises, and you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. Where he’d gotten that attitude wasn’t a great mystery. He jumped on one foot, nudging at your coat’s pockets with the other, his eyes going in and out of focus audibly as he searched for god-knows-what.

You tsked. “Will you stop that!” you chided and swatted him away like you would a cat. “Yes, I brought you something from my last job, stop assaulting me for a minute and let me find the damn thing. And you better not tell your dad, I’m not letting him think I’m a softie just because I keep entertaining your crow tendencies.”

Suddenly the picture of good manners, the droid sat and wiggled his legs as he sent you a sweet melody. Manipulative little shit, you thought affectionately. He was annoying as could be, but the little guy was cute.

You fished out a shiny piece of silver metal from your breast pocket. You had made sure not to lose the small leaf-shaped brooch, the perfect gift for BD-1. Your last bounty had necessitated infiltrating an Imperial event, and you’d found the piece while snooping through an officer’s desk. You’d never been so happy to have preemptively messed with the camera feeds.

The droid whistled in excitement and bathed your hand in a green light. You tried and failed to fight the smile that braced your lips as you watched him dance around your palm. He scanned the object from every angle he could find.

Too focused on his reaction, you failed to notice the individual looking over your shoulder until his shadow dimmed the wall you were facing. Too late to react properly, you shut your hand as quick as you could and turned to look at the man. Kin Fobam. Another bounty hunter, a Pau’an, one that always found a new way to piss you off. Today would apparently be no exception. BD beeped in annoyance at your movement before noticing you had company.

“Well, well. It would seem our little bounty hunter has a penchant for jewels after all.” the man sneered at you.

You rolled your eyes and did your best not to flinch at the lack of personal space, his two-meter height trapping you without much breathing room. You could smell the alcohol he had consumed, but you didn’t need it to know he was intoxicated. At this time of night, he always was. You were already almost pressed to the wall of your booth with only enough space to keep BD behind you, so you stood your ground and straightened up as best you could. You kept the droid in place as he spat angry threats at Kin, unwilling to let him make the situation worse.

“Kin, don’t you know women love shiny things?” you mocked with an arched brow, “Maybe if you’d known that earlier, that lovely Iridonian wouldn’t have spat at you again for your advances last week. How’s your attempt at courting her going, by the way?”

You subtly held the metal pin in pinched fingers behind your back as his white face somehow turned even paler in anger, desperately hoping BD-1 would understand what you were trying to tell him. You almost sighed in relief when you felt him swiftly slide it out of your hands into his stim container.

Kin moved even closer to you, forcing you to lean over BD in a desperate attempt to gain some personal space. Your free hand instinctively reached for your hip but only found the weathered leather of your empty holster. Shit, you’d left your guns on the ship! You didn’t have the space to reach for your blades either, so you had no choice but to do it the old way.

You tensed, ready to headbutt the towering Pau’an out of your space, but you stilled when you felt cold metal brush against your skin in the small gap where your shirt and pants met. A blaster. Fuck. This is why you never left without a firearm.

“I wonder, if that piece of metal is worth so much to someone like you,” he growled, “then maybe you’d accept payment in other forms… as thanks for sparing your life today, hm?”

You cringed at the implication of his words but took a steadying breath. You’d insulted this guy in more ways than you could count over the years and you knew he could pull that trigger without a second thought, but you’d fought bounties that were bigger, angrier, and certainly more skilled. He wasn’t the first to try and extort sexual favors from you, nor would he be the last.

Your brain spun in circles, trying to come up with a plan that didn’t involve blaster fire passing through your right kidney and BD-1 in one fell swoop. You didn’t have to think for long, though.

Before you could make a move, a blinding orange light flashed between you and Kin, floating just underneath his chin. You could feel the heat from where you were, could imagine the pain its power wielded. The way the man’s white flesh turned pink at its proximity didn’t go unnoticed.

“How about I gift her with the loss of your life as an apology for letting her endure your dirty ass, Kin?” a smooth voice drawled, the speaker invisible to you with your still-focusing eyes, but you didn’t need to see him to know who it was. As if the lightsaber wasn’t already enough to identify him, but you’d know that voice anywhere too. You weren’t the only one, if the cheering beeps you heard behind you were any indications.

A smirk braced your features as the Pau’an gritted his sharp teeth, hesitating a second before raising his hands in a defeated manner. He demonstratively holstered his pistol to make sure his head wasn’t cut off at the movement and he slowly stepped back a few feet away. The lightsaber didn’t stray a single millimeter from him. His brows pinched in anger, and he looked expectantly towards you. “It was just a little bit of fun, right?” he said as he hissed in pain. “Nothing to get upset about.”

You chuckled at the attempt. “I don’t know, I’m thinking your head on a platter sounds pretty great right about now. Maybe I can find someone out here who’d enjoy some barbecued Pau’an. What do you think, Cal?”

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze met amused grey eyes over Kin’s hunched shoulders. He winked at you, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip.

“I’m pretty sure that violates too many health codes,” he said, “you know, quality standards and such.”

BD whistled in agreement, scampering up onto your back and nudging the side of your head when you got up to lean against the side of your table.

“Too bad,” you sighed, crossing your arms, “maybe it could’ve bought me some new earrings.”

Cal laughed loudly, warmth spreading through your chest at the lovely sound before he closed a hand on the sweaty neck before him and brought his blade even closer to his chin. “The next time you even come within 20 feet of her,” he stated casually, loudly enough for the entire bar to hear and turn the heads of the few who weren’t already watching, “you won’t live long enough to say ‘womp rat’. Are we clear?”

Well, if your heart hadn’t been beating fast before, it sure was now. Never had a threat sounded so attractive before. You diverted your gaze. Get a grip, you reprimanded yourself.

BD-1 only encouraged him, a crackling sound buzzing entirely too close to your ear for your liking. When did he get a taser? You didn’t even want to know what he used it for, finding trouble with his new gadgets was a special talent of his.

Kin, now wide eyed, muttered an affirmative and a long line of fearful apologies, eager to escape the Jedi. Cal flicked off his saber and forcefully shoved him away. The Pau’an bolted out the door of the bar, running for his life, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his fear. BD reprimanded Cal for acting so late, beeps and squeals echoing through the room after the patrons returned to their usual business, but the red-haired man was only focused on you. Your skin heated at the attention.

“I could’ve dealt with him myself.”

He gave you a wide smile and stepped closer, no Pau’an separating you anymore. “Oh, I know. Wasn’t this much more fun though?”

The corner of your lips twitched, and you shrugged, softly shaking your head at his ever-lasting upbeat attitude. You uncrossed your arms, placing them behind you on the rusty table to comfortably lean back. “Still could’ve knocked him out faster without alerting every possible person of a Jedi’s presence here.”

“Give me a break,” he said almost sheepishly, reaching up a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “is a guy not allowed to show off to a pretty girl every once in a while?”

Your breath hitched on a single breath, caught off-guard. Sure, the two of you joked around all the time, but he’d never gone so far as to straight up flirt with you. You tried not to react, probably failing miserably at doing so.

“Smooth.”

He threw his head back in laughter, his reddened freckled cheeks showing more embarrassment that he let on. “I try.”

“Next time,” you said, striding past him, “if you really want to show off, perhaps you shouldn’t wait until there’s a blaster pointed at me before making your move.”  You had no idea how you kept your voice steady, and you couldn’t help but hear the rare softness of it. You were thankful that he couldn’t see how wide of a smile you currently wore.

He jogged to catch up, keeping pace with you as you headed for the docking bay. “I’ll keep that in mind” he chuckled.

You glanced back at the bar over your shoulder, and BD started emitting alarm noises from your other side, indignant at still being ignored. You patted his head, quieting him for a moment. “Where did your informant go?” you asked Cal. “Wouldn’t want to hinder your next side quest.”

“That was anything but a quest,” he said, “Just a boring old trade. Wouldn’t be so boring if you were there, though.”

A loud whistle of approval sounded above your shoulder.

“Hey, calm it, up there!” you exclaimed, using another opportunity to escape from answering. “I’ve only got two eardrums, let’s not break one of them.”

BD whistled again at a lower volume, followed by a barely audible series of sounds.

“Yeah, weak organics my ass,” you muttered. “We’ll talk about how great being a droid is the next time you bend your antennas and come running to me.”

Cal’s soft laugh caught your attention once more. He was watching you both with such a fond smile... Your heart squeezed at how soft he looked, for once not rushing towards something and instead enjoying the moment.

As you neared your ship, small tendrils of smoke still escaping the upper vents, he looked at his watch when it suddenly started beeping, and he made a face. “I’d love to hear the rest of your arguing, but we have to go. A revolution doesn’t fund itself.” he said. He looked up at the droid sitting on your shoulders. “Yes, beedee, that means you. Hop on.”

Cal held out an arm, BD begrudgingly taking his usual spot on his shoulders, spitting menacing sparks at the jedi along the way. The latter looked towards you with a flicker of hope as he stepped backwards towards the back of the hangar where the Mantis stood. “Can I convince you to join me this time? Still got an extra bunk if you want.”

“I don’t think you want me and beedee on the same ship 24/7, Cal. Anyways, I’ve told you before, I can’t just discard my old one.”

He stared at your smoking Hawk-Class before he turned to you unimpressed. “That thing can’t even fly.”

“It can! I just need to fix the cooling mechanism and-”

“And the hull, the reactors, the hyperdrive, the-” he continued, amused at your stubbornness.

“Okay, okay,” you scoffed, “you’ve made your point. Might as well drop it here, I guess. I could hitch a ride, if you’re heading towards the inner rim, but I’ve got approximately nothing to give in payment for the fuel.”

BD startled you with a burst of binary, so fast you couldn’t hear him. Cal looked at you sharply.

“You’ve been giftinghim things?” he exclaimed.

“You utter snitch, beedee!”

The droid whistled at you disapprovingly and loudly shot the brooch from his stim compartment right into Cal’s hands.

“I can’t believe you,” you continued, “the one thing I told you-”

You fell right back into your argument with the droid.

Cal tilted his head back in loud laughter and threw an arm around your shoulders as you whisper-yelled at BD-1, leading you towards the Mantis. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

Getting side-tracked by BD1? In my supposedly Cal-centered fic? It's more likely than you think.

This was pre-realtionship like my last Cal fic because tbh i have trouble setting up the change from friends to lovers without writing a whole novel, but I have some ideas roaming around my head I'd like to write. We'll see how that turns out!

Tell me what you think, and check out my masterlist!

#Cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #cal kestis x you #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order #jedi video games #star wars jedi #star wars #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic

[k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl]

trying some more writing, pls be gentle

thanks @drowsy-siren for the inspiration

She swiftly makes her way through the cold water, bright beams of light emitting from her screen illuminating wide areas of dark ocean floor, her sleek metal chassis easily cutting through the cool liquid around her, searching for somewhere she's been dozens of times before. It's always a little hard to find, even with her robotic memory, but before long she notices a small opening in the rocks. She launches herself off the ocean floor, propelling into the cave as she dims her lights.

Dark green and purple sea grass coat the inside of the cave, the tight stone space somehow much warmer than the outside water. The dancing shadows dart around as her lights search the open space for something, if she didn't know better her fear programs would be working over time. A dark shadow moves behind her faster than the rest, lights following quickly behind but catching sight of nothing. Another dash behind her, lights too slow again.

A dark figure shoots from behind, her sensors picking up the swift movement, her chassis turning quickly in its direction just in time to feel the impact of it slam into her, sending them both flying into the cavern wall. Her optical sensors searching through the kicked up dirt and muck for the source of the attack, eyes locking onto the sharp claws around her neck. She follows up the smooth, scaled arm to see the grinning, violet creature pinning her chassis to the wall, a deep, tantalising voice escapes its lips, “Well look at this pretty little trinket I've caught.” Before the bot can respond, a sharp claw pierces the robot's chassis.

Her limbs go limp, her servos whirring but her arms don't move, the creature disconnecting everything in one movement. The bot’s screen flashes through panicked looks as her processors realise the reality of the situation, the creature grinning sinfully mere inches from her face plate. “You should really be more careful bot, wouldn't want someone to take advantage of you down here now would we?” A sharp, clawed finger drags down her chest leaving a deep groove in its wake, a high pitch staticky moan escaping the robot's mouth. “Such a precious droid.” Her tail snaking around the bot's leg, “Not a siren's usual prey but I think you'll do nicely darling.” Another claw tears across her metallic thigh, causing a jolt of synthetic pain and pleasure to surge through her system. A hand grabs her head and pulls her face forward, her lips finding the sirens mouth. The siren grins wickedly against the robot’s mouth before snaking a long slender tongue down her synthetic throat, muffled robotic moaning escaping from around its length. Another sharp scrape down her back tearing away more of her outer plating, unable to speak, her screen flickers before a message displays across it “f….u….c…k”. The sirens lips smile against the bots mouth again as she watches her struggle to process all the signals her system is sending: her cooling fans struggling to keep up, the warm water not able to dissipate the heat quickly enough, warning signals flickering inside her mind as she diverts more power away from her processors to her cooling fans desperately trying to avoid a system shut down.

“Is the pretty bot gonna shut down for me?” The siren coos, her tongue withdrawing as she presses herself into the metallic frame of her prey. “You’re so pretty when you’re about to overheat, Bot.” 

Five deep claws then pierce deep into the robots back, pulling the jagged metal down to her hip. Thousands of signals speed through her wires all reaching her centre at the same time, the electrical overload surging through her body, triggering all her failsafes at once. The last thing she sees before going dark is the smirking siren as her systems shut down to prevent permanent damage to her internals.

…

A spark. A spark is always the first thing she feels, something deep inside her beginning the boot process. Slowly, the warm feeling of her systems gaining power spreads throughout her chassis, her optical sensors begin to boot, her screen displaying a simple loading symbol. 

Dim light fills her vision, memories of the recent encounter replaying in her mind, blissful. A weight on her pelvis pulls her back to reality, eyes shooting down, she sees the siren straddling her hips, tongue sticking out of her mouth slightly as she focuses deeply on repairing the sharp cuts in her chassis. She pauses briefly, noticing the bot powering up.

 “Hi Baby, I'm almost done here, how ya feeling?” The robot tries to speak but nothing comes out, a series of symbols display her frustration. “$#@!%”

“It’s ok darling, speech is always the last one to reboot remember?” She puts her tools beside her and leans down, planting a gentle kiss on the robot's screen. 

“How about I finish fixing the damage we caused and then you tell me all about what you’ve been up to?” The bot smiles gently and nods, her screen lighting up displaying a symbol “<3”. The siren smiles deeply, leaning back up and grabbing her tools, “I missed you so much love, must have been what, twenty years since you were last here? Can't wait to hear everything.”

The robot rests her head back down onto the hard rock, smiling to herself. She has nowhere to call home, but the creature gently working on her chassis certainly feels like home….

If you wanna support me - Ko-fi

#Amity's writing #robot #smut

[saradika]

— if you send for me, you know I'll come

[series masterlist]

din djarin x f!reader

rated E - 4.5k

Tags: protective!neighbor!din, canon-typical violence, Nevarro is attacked, pirate invasion, death of pirates, angst, brief hostage situation, established relationship, outercourse, multiple orgasms, PiV

A/N: mini-sequel to only if for a night (but also can be read as a one-shot!) Spoilers for 03.05 - absolutely cheering over “I decided to take you up on your offer for a tract of land” and wanted to explore that

The blasts rain down. Turning parts of your beloved city into crumbling stone and smoking ash. A cry of distress sent to the New Republic. A whisper throughout the crowd saying that help isn't coming. That this time, Nevarro is on it's own.

But you're sure of one thing. Hang onto that hope like a lifeline, as you send out a small message of you own.

Knowing that Din Djarin will come for you.

That he will find a way.

The Corsair hangs heavy, overhead.

Appearing suddenly, a dark splash against the sunny, blue skies. A weight in your limbs, an uneasiness creeping up your spine as the hail comes in.

Stuck frozen in place, as you watch the face of the Pirate King - Gorian Shard - appear on the holo. Filling the room with his dripping visage.

Ushered quickly off to the side, as the two engineers make a hasty exit - though you don't remember moving. Listening to the sharp back-and-forth.

“Believe your ears then, and don't mistake my hospitality for weakness."

“The Spinward patrol passes through here regularly."

Karga holds his ground against the threats that fire down. Shard coming back for his revenge, for the pirates killed in the streets of Nevarro all those weeks before.

A day you remember well. The day he had come back into your life.

And for a second you feel safe - until you see that confident veneer chip. That hesitance in Karga's voice, in his words, as Shard calls his bluff.

The blasts that start to rain down, after.

That uneasiness morphing into pure dread. A matching fear that flashes in both your eyes, as the call ends, and the droid enters the room.

"High Magistrate, the escape pod is ready." It chirps. Voice friendly, in spite of the dire situation, "I will lead you to the launch site."

"I won't abandon my city," Karga shakes his head, turning your way, "You take it. Get to safety."

And in spite of your complaints before - those told in confidence to Din, about how your boss was too much, too extravagant, too Karga - you can't bear it. Not when you see how he puts the people first, instead of running.

You shake your own head. Words coming shakily, but you mean every one, "I'm with you. What can I do?"

"We have to get the people to safety. Send out a directive immediately." He barks out, and you're nodding. The command giving you something to do - unsticking your feet.

Raising the alarm.

Following him into the streets.

———

Your fingers key in the codes for the message - the cry for help. The recording Karga quickly made in his office after the evacuation had begin - his one shot before the building began to shake with the force of the blasts.

A message for Captain Teva, of the New Republic.

You had wanted to protest. Had tried to - arguing that there were others that could help.

"He's one man. He might not even come." Karga had snapped back. His patience thin - each second that passed meant another part of the city crumbled, "We'll have a better shot at surviving this if we reach out to someone with numbers."

You flinched at his tone, at the insinuation. The words from the message replaying in your head.

"The situation is dire."

"I'm afraid that our planet will fall."

His voice softened when he saw your expression, "We don't have time for another message. Send it."

Part of you had wanted to argue.

That Din would come, for you. If he knew you were in danger.

He'd save all of you.

He'd find a way.

Instead, you bit the words back. Focusing on the comm code that Karga had rattled off. The crushing bands still wrapped tightly around your chest as the message is sent, firing off with a sharp click.

Sending your own after, with a small wish - breathed out into the stars. These numbers long-since memorized, fingers flying over the keys. The briefest of messages, but you hope he'll understand.

Din. It’s the Pirates. If you get this, we could really use your help.

Please.

There's the boom of another blast, the floor rattling beneath your feet.

And then, you're running.

Retreating to the lava flats, with the rest of the city.

———

Dirt clings to your tunic. Clay dusting your side, your shoulder - from when you shielded a neighbor from a blast, tugging them down the alley.

No time to do anything more than get out. Following the waves out people out of the city limits. Watching as months and years of growth and progress and green crumble. Sending you into the wastes, once more.

Feet aching by the time you stop - shivering now, in the evening chill. The dark sky above illuminated with the golden and red flickering of a fire, tearing through the western edge of town. Sending up billowing smoke, blocking out the stars.

A grief that surrounds you, in the dark. A selfish ache in the way that you mourn for you home. The happiness you had built. Promising to look after his, after that night you spent together.

Having to face that you weren't able to. That there might be nothing left.

The thought follows you, seeping into your bones. Weighing you down, as you huddle in small groups. Fires dotting the lava flats, flickering in the wind. Shifting against the ground as you try to get comfortable - finding it near impossible.

Drifting off, when your eyes get too heavy to stay open. Even with the ridges of rock digging into your side, an arm tucked under your head.

You call to him in your sleep. Drifting off to the memories, on repeat for comfort. Replaying the messages you've exchanged, since he left.

Hoping you'll get the chance to see him. Even if it's just one last time.

Even if it's just in your dreams.

———

The Corsair lingers. Pirates deployed in waves, pillaging and looting. Those who stayed inside, those who refused to leave, were at their mercy. Turned into captives or pushed around. Forced to smile and serve food and drink as a blaster points at their guts.

Not daring to refuse.

There's not enough weapons left among you to fight back. Not thinking to arm yourself - all thought focused on getting out. Leaving you vulnerable - stranded on the dark field of igneous rock.

There's whispers of surrender. Looks thrown Karga's way, as he stands firm.

Still a beacon, in spite of the hardship.

But you stay firm, as well. You know hope will come.

You believe in him.

The hours pass and the pit in your stomach grows. A man breaks away, a hurried plan to sneak into the town. To try to gather those inside, to see if he can grab weapons.

He doesn't come back.

Instead of gunfire there's shouting now. Harsh laughter that filters through the whipping wind. Trails of smoke still rising up to the sky, where the ship still hangs - waiting.

Waiting for Karga's hail of surrender.

Waiting for the city to fall.

———

A cry breaks through the stilted silence. Everyone muted with worry - no longer speculating.

The pointing of fingers, as something streaks against the sky.

A glint of silver, shining like Beskar.

You know that ship. Have seen it, in the space between your house and his.

A leaping in your heart and a wetness on your cheeks that you don't even realize - as your shouts are among the first to rise.

Cheering, for the help that has come.

Watching as a larger ship joins his - as it opens, spilling figures with jetpacks into the air.

Karga smiles, as he meets your eyes. Relief in them, as he raises his comm.

"Thanks for your help, Mando." There's fondness in his tone.

You can't stop grinning, as the voice you know so well crackles back, "Heard you might need a hand."

"Be careful, my friend." He smiles, before growing serious, "They've got you outnumbered ten to one."

There's an edge to Din's voice then, the words low and smooth, “I like those odds."

Karga chuckles, reminiscing, "I bet you do."

There's a beat of silence, and then a final request.

“Karga. Keep her safe, for me."

His eyes find yours. Knowing who Din means - your heart flipping at the words.

A knowing smile, as he answers.

"You know I will."

The comm clicks off, but the heat that rises in your chest and face lingers. Hiding the smile as your face turns towards the sun.

Watching with the others as the two ships dart around in the sky. The sounds of blasters layering over each other from within the city.

The bright flash of red and gold as a hit is landed on the Corsair, the handful of snubfighters in the sky quickly dwindling.

Whispers of hope race through the groups of people around you. Steps as they start to head towards the city, as the pirates are picked off.

A groan, as the turrets above shift. A spray landing a kilometer away, but each round moving closer. Spending up dirt and rock and the dread is flooding though you again as it quickly approaches.

“They’re targeting us!” A cry goes up, as that bit of hope wavers.

The groups scattering, splitting apart as they back up.

Your eyes stay on the sky. Watching as the two smaller ships team up - and fire.

The blaze of fire and smoke as the Corsair tilts, and then plummets. An achingly slow descent, as the front tips down, colliding loudly with the rocky ground. Crumpling into broken metal, and the explosion that fills the sky is so bright that it hurts your eyes.

The Pirate King, defeated.

The cries around you change. Fear turning swiftly into joy. Voices blending and mixing until it’s just a drawn out, repeated chant.

“It's gonna be okay!”

———

You’re among the first to breach the far border of the city. The remaining pirates gathered in surrender, weapons thrown upon the ground.

The Mandalorians chasing them from the bowels of the city, intent on seeing things through.

But not everyone among the remaining decide to go so easily. Something moves at the corner of your vision, as you pass by the crumbling house.

Something tall and broad - turning just in time to see the mottled yellow skin of the Quarren as he lunges your way.

Fingers twist around you, hard and cold. Your breath in your throat as the barrel presses against your chin - using you like a human shield.

Another pair, their skin in matching shades of crimson, grab the older woman and the young man next to you. Mimicking their leader, guns clicking in their hands.

A forced negotiation.

Ice creeps into your veins - fearing that this is the end, when you were so close to salvation. Eyes wide as you look towards Din.

How he turns at the gasp that skitters through the crowd. The briefest second - when he sees you.

The twitch of his hand, as he stalks forward. A blaster raised so quickly you can barely blink before something hot and bright is shooting past your cheek.

Downing the pirate that’s holding you captive with a single shot.

Whistling birds from the Mandalorian at his side taking out the other two in an instant.

You’re in his arms a moment later. The beskar cool against your cheek as he pulls you to him. Crushing you against his chest, before he’s pulling back.

The swivel of his helmet as he looks - paying an abandoned storefront just off to the side. Hauling you with him as the Mandalorians round up the rest of the Pirates, as they finally surrender.

You can feel the few eyes that follow you - the weight of their gaze. But in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

He’s ripping the gloves off - bare hands coming to cup your face the moment you’re inside. As if unable to help touching you himself, not wanting any layers as he tilts your face up to his so he can see you.

A slow drift of his helmet as he checks you over.

“Are you hurt?” Din rasps, “Are you alright, cyar’ika?”

The meaning of that word is still unknown, but there’s such an affection in the way he says it. Carefully, earnestly, and it has you nodding.

“I’m fine.” You croak, your hand coming to rest on his. Pressing it against your cheek, leaning into it.

Some of the stiffness in his posture wanes. Your back pressing against the wall as he crowds you, as relief crashes through him.

Staring up at him - feeling the rush of emotion. Making your words soft, no more than a whisper.

“You came.”

His own voice rough, “Of course I did. I always will.”

You smile then, at that.

Sweet and soft, just for him.

“I knew you would. I just knew.”

At your words - the adoring look you give him - his hand is raising. Traveling to his helmet. Lifting the edge, where you can just see the briefest glimpse of tan skin, the scruff of his beard.

Before your eyes are snapping shut, and his lips are pressing to yours.

And oh, how you remember them.

Your fingers curling in his cowl as you cling to him. The moan sliding from your throat as he leans into you, his other hand gripping almost painfully at your waist.

Desperate.

That’s how you feel. Like you can’t get enough, as you curve yourself against his chest. Lips parting when his tongue brushes against the seam, letting him deepen it.

Leaving you panting and breathless when he finally pulls back. Fingers searching for more, tangling in the belt around his waist as his hips rock against yours.

“You’re safe now.”

You hum in distracted agreement, something much more welcome than panic thrumming in your veins.

He’s there with you, hand roaming - fingers dipping under the hem of your tunic. Bunching it up until he can brush the bare skin at your waist. A thigh nudging between yours, your own face reflected back in the shining visor.

Eyes half-lidden, with kiss-swollen lips.

“Din.” You whine, and he groans.

Hips rolling slowly against yours, just as the sound of his name echos.

Lower, this time. Modulated, like his.

The fingers slide from your shirt, but he stays close - twisting so he’s half-blocking you from sight.

From the sight of the Mandalorian that fills the doorway - tall and broad in his painted, blue armor. A cock of his head, as his arms cross over a thick chest.

“You did not tell us you took a riduur during your stay,” Amusement tinging his words, even through the helmet, “No wonder you were in such a rush to return.”

Another word to figure out - as Din’s posture stiffens, shifting closer to you. His hands on the wall, keeping you tucked carefully between them.

“What do you want?” He asks, not bothering to hide his own annoyance.

“Your friend, the Grand Magistrate, is requesting our presence.” There’s the low rumble of a laugh, “Or should I tell him you’re too busy?”

“We’ll be right there, Vizsla.”

It’s a dismissal, and the other Mandalorian takes it. Leaving the two of alone for a moment to make some swift adjustments.

The heat lingering in your cheeks, at getting caught. Grateful that the visitor wasn’t a few minutes later - certain that sight would have been a lot more than he bargained for.

A gloved hand is wrapped in yours, as you head back into the light.

Where Karga is waiting, ready to thank them. A generous gift offered - the land from the western lava flats to Bulloch Canyon, ceded to the Mandalorians.

His smile bright, as he tells them, “You may no longer have a home planet, but you do now have a home.”

———

That edge is tempered, now that Din knows you’re alright. But there’s a part that still lingers as he’s surrounded by his kin, his words clipped and short.

Stuck helping with negotiations - getting the ships moved to the landing pads, instead of hastily exited.

Unhappily separated, as you’re pulled into your own work. The city littered with debris and broken buildings. Bodies and smoldering fires.

Better to stay outside for one more night - to begin together, at dawn.

The best warriors sent in just to grab supplies. Coming back with materials to set up small camps, tents.

You work on your own, cozy enough for two. Not needing much more space, after hearing that Grogu would be staying safe with the other foundlings. Finding a spot to the edge of the camp of the Mandalorians, hoping Din will be able to find you.

Exhaustion tugging at you as you curl in the bedding, determined to wait up for him. That dull thrumming persisting between your thighs, even now.

Anticipating his return.

But the soft glow that the fire casts on the canvas starts to tug you under. Hazy with sleep when his voice finally comes, the sky an inky indigo above.

The soft call of your name.

A body lowering next to yours. Curling behind you, and you’re so relieved and content that you don’t mind the cold bite of the beskar against the thin fabric of your top.

A stiffness lingers in the way he holds you. As you’re unable to help arching back, his breath crackling harshly through the vocoder as your ass presses against him.

An arm, wrapping around you - his hand splaying across your stomach when you do it again. The thrust of his hips as he meets you this time, grinding himself against you.

“I need you.”

His words - low and rough - make you clench.

Rocking against him with more intent, as his bare hands begin to roam, like before. Rucking up your shirt so he can touch bare skin.

“I thought I would be too late.”

He can say it now, when it’s dark.

When it’s just the two of you.

Those worries finally breaking through the armor, spilling out from the cracks. Extracted, by the feeling of your body against his.

Letting himself breath for the first time in hours. An urge to feel every inch of you, to make sure you are truly okay. Wanting to make you forget, with the only way he knows how.

“You have me.” You tell him, catching his hand - dragging it up to your mouth. Pressing a kiss against the calloused knuckles, fingers warm in yours, “I believed in you.”

It feels silly now, that you ever doubted. Even for the brief second.

His groan is low, the edge of the helmet biting into your shoulder. Hand pulling free so he can grasp at the edge of your leggings - your hips rising so he can push them down.

Leaving them twisted around your thighs as his hand follows, dipping between them. Cupping you, where you’re molten. Aching, from that moment when he kissed you - replaying it over and over in the tent while you waited.

The tips of his fingers finding where you’re slick - rubbing tight circles, like he did in the springs. Each pass sends a little jolt down your spine, a flicker of pleasure in your brain.

Your breath short and sharp as you flex into his touch - a low whine when he pulls away to free himself. Feeling the heavy, velvety curve as it nudges against your ass. Damp fingers smearing your slick across a thigh as he lifts it.

Fitting his length between them, pressing it snug against your wet pussy. Petting at your clit again, as he thrusts.

Fingers focused - no teasing tonight. Gliding over the senstive bud as he grinds against you, fucking your thighs with his swollen cock. The ridge pressing against your folds as his hips roll, adding to your mounting pleasure.

Each pass brings you higher.

Each slide of his hips coming easier, as your arousal slicks up his cock. Dragging against you - making you want to just tilt your hips, so during the next pass, he’ll nudge inside.

Instead, your fingers drift beneath your shirt. Teasing your breast as the other hand makes a fist around the tip of his cock, a gentle pressure when his hips press flush against yours.

His groan joins yours, his pace stuttering.

That low voice coming out ragged, as your thighs tighten around him, “Come on my fingers, and you can have it.”

It has you clenching around nothing, a jerk of your hips into his touch.

“Please,” you moan, the familiar heat pooling in your belly. Winding with each swipe, as he presses just a little bit harder.

“Know you can,” He breathes, “Know you’re close.”

And you are - muscles tight as your focus narrows down to just his fingers. The heavy drag of his cock, so wet as it drags across sensitive skin.

The arm he has tucked under his head shoves beneath you, pressing between your breasts as he holds you tightly against him.

His breath ragged, loud through his helmet - only adding to the sensations that flood you. You own breath trapped in your chest, as everything strings tight.

Each gasping “oh” sending you higher. So close that your eyes screw shut - and when his cock catches against your entrance again, your fingers move.

A hitch of your hips as you guide the tip inside - Din’s moan filthy in your ear.

You come, as he’s pressing into you. Each shallow snap of his hips sinks him deeper, giving you something to clench around as you cry out his name.

A low groan that sounds close to a snarl, as he feels you. Hears your voice break on his name, pride flooding through him.

Not caring that someone else might hear.

Not this time.

Not when you’re pulsing around him, hot and wet and warm. Stiff in his arms as the spark flickers down your limbs, as you senselessly grind back against him.

Riding out the waves - until the fire that floods through you cools down to an ember, warm and low in your belly.

He pulls back, then - your moan pitiful as he leaves you empty. Urging you onto your stomach, as his weight presses against your back.

A sloppy thrust of his hips sends his cock against the curve of your ass, your thighs, before he finds you again.

Entering you with a long, slow thrust - punching the air from your lungs. His chest pressed against your back, braced on his forearms as his shoulder curl around yours.

Helmet biting into your shoulder as he pulls half-out, only to bury himself again.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” He groans, the words drawn out. You can only moan in response, as he splits you open, “So fucking perfect. My sweet girl.”

It’s needy, desperate. Clothes pushed to the side as needed, your legs pressed between his knees. His armor solid when it presses against you, the tent filling with the creak of the leather straps, the smack of skin on skin as he fills you.

Laid out, underneath him, fingers curling into the blankets as he pulls each soft sound from you.

Your thighs still bound by your leggings, making him feel even bigger, deeper, than last time. A little wiggle of your hips as you try to meet his thrusts, moaning against the bedding.

Half-finding your voice, panting the words out, “Feels so good. Gods, I missed you-“

His response a rough hum of agreement - nearly past words with his need. Managing a gritted out, “missed you, too” as his hips snap against yours.

Grinding himself deep, his cock dragging against your walls. Bumping that spongey spot that makes you see stars, over and over.

Until you can’t resist - until you’re shoving an arm between your stomach and the bedding. Reaching desperately between your thighs.

Fingers touching down on soaked skin, splitting around where he’s buried in you. Feeling the slide of his shaft, as his weight presses into just a little more.

It’s bliss, as your fingertips circle your clit. The heavy weight of him - the deep, pounding thrusts.

Din’s voice, so low in your ear. An edge that drives you wild, “I’m, fuck-”

He shifts, just barely slowing, “Want you to come with me. Can you do that?”

If he keeps it up, you know you can. Sending his cock against that spot, paired with the stroke of your fingers.

“Yes,” You manage, “So close-”

His reply is groaned out, a tremor in the way he holds himself. Losing that steady rhythm as your hips tilt, as he sinks just a tiny bit deeper. Listening to the way your breath changes - faster, higher.

Until his arm is shifting, the twist of his wrist as he reaches for your free one. Fingers entwining in yours, as your own vision starts to go hazy.

“Cyare, I can’t-” The words sound frustrated, but he can stop the rutting of his hips - so close to his own release. Trying to draw it out for you. Unable to hold back, as he feels you spread out beneath him.

“Wanna feel you,” You beg him, “Please, Din-”

Fingers circling quickly, feeling yourself tighten up again. His thrusts rough now, breath loud as he falls to the sound of your begging.

A pretty, drawn-out groan as he presses himself deep. Your name, mixed in with his breath as his cock throbs. Shallow thrusts with each pulse that ripples through him, as he empties himself.

It sends you over. Full of him as you come, milking him dry as your thighs clench. Shattering with white-hot pleasure, as he holds you - everything else seeming to fade, to grow soft and hazy.

Taking you a second to realize the strangled moans are yours, mixing with his soft, soothing praises.

Staying pressed together until your breathing returns to normal. Until he’s carefully sliding from you, and you’re doing your best to clean up, dripping and sticky with him.

Finding each other again after, in the darkness of the tent. Not wanting to be apart - not after today.

It feels like a weight been carved out of you. Leaving you hollow, in the darkness. Pressed up against him, though for the first time in days - you can breathe.

A comfort in the tents that surround you. The warmth of the fires, the city now silent.

“I don’t know what waits for us inside.” Your words are whispered out into the night. Guilt still gnaws at you, as you remember your promise, “I am so sorry that I couldn’t protect our home.”

“You did the right thing. That man’s cruelty is not your fault.” A palm strokes down your arm, your cheek pressed against his bare chest. Feeling the rumble of his words as they comfort you.

“If anything, it is mine.”

It has your head tilting up, chin pressing into this skin. Frowning, as you repeat his words back to him, “His cruelty is not your fault either. I heard what Karga said. They shot first. They chose to return.”

He makes a sound of uncertainty, as silence settles. A long moment passing, before you’re unable to help asking. Clarifying.

"Are you really going to stay, this time?"

The hand moves to your back then, pulling you closer. Tucking you further against him, until your nose is brushing the warm skin of his neck. Filling your senses with him - his voice, the warm, familiar scent of leather and metal and him.

"Yes, cyare." He soothes, "We'll stay. And if anything has happened to our home… we'll rebuild."

And you can hear the smile in his voice then, the word home. Because it was before, and it still is, now.

A finality in the way he says it. His own comfort in knowing that you're safe. In knowing that his culture will flourish here - that the children of the covert will feel what it is to play in the sunlight, once again.

“Together."

But if you send for me, you know I'll come

And if you call for me, you know I'll run

I'll run to you, I'll run to you

I'll run, run, run

(Mando’a: mesh’la - beautiful / cyare & cyar’ika - sweetheart / riduur - spouse)

#gif by the lovely salome-c! #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian x reader #mando s3 spoilers

[darthgloris]

Anakin and male y/n have been best friends for a few years, they met on a mission and you know how it’s like you’ve known someone forever at first meet? They both admit they’re in love with each other and smut please

Under The Stars

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!Jedi!reader

A/N: I'm really, really sorry for not being able to give you the fic you want sweetie 😭😭 I really don't know how to write male x male relationships and I'm very afraid of misrepresenting the smut, still soo soo sorry 😫 @dashingaudacity I hope you can forgive me and I really hope this one will do 🥺

Summary: Y/N's Padawan, Rose, risks her life during a battle and is saved at the last possible minute by another Jedi. When Y/N goes to thank him after the battle, she sees just how attractive and respectful he is. Out one night, away from the eyes of the Order, their stargazing becomes a moment to share they way the have felt about each other all this time.

Warnings: suggestive themes, fluffy asf, making out, Anakin having better pickup lines than "I don't like sand", Anakin being the romance king (cause in a world where he doesn't turn dark he is)

☆☆☆

"Rosesava Stawil, you get back here this instant!" Y/N yelled at her Padawan, who had already raced off into battle with a death grip on her lightsaber.

She sighed in exasperation, following her Padawan into the chaos. That girl is way too reckless, she thought with a huff.

A scream rang out through the battle, a voice she could recognize anywhere. Y/N perked up as her eyes widened in panic and she ran through the clouds of dust, frantically looking around for the girl. "Rose?"

"Master!"

"Rose!" She leapfrogged from stone to stone, panting as she reached out to the Force to find her Padawan.

Y/N gasped as a droid towered over Rose's figure, stranded on the ground with a fearful look in her eyes before she screwed them closed, waiting for the pain to come, but it never did. Her eyes flew open as the swash of a lightsaber filled her ears, skillfully deflecting all the blaster shots.

"Rose!" Y/N called and rushed to pull the girl up from the ground, while looking for the person that had saved Rose's life. A few feet away from them was another Jedi, a curly haired young man with a scar running down his left eye, and a young Togruta around Rose's age trailing behind him.

She let out a breath of relief, shooting him a thankful glance, to which he replied with a nod and a gentle smile before disappearing into the chaos, his blue lightsaber illuminating his path through the dense sand clouds.

As the relief flooded her, she glared down at Rose. "Sorry, Master."

"One unnerving and life-threatening issue at a time, Rose. Now, come on, this isn't over yet."

...

Y/N wiped a few beads of sweat from her forehead and ran a hand through her tousled hair as she looked at the campsite. Countless wounded soldiers were being carried to the medbay as she walked around, looking for anyone that she could help.

After a few minutes she spotted the guy from before, the very same that had saved Rose's life oh, so selflessly. She looked at him for a few seconds to admire him: she noticed the small curls that framed his face, his big, soulful blue eyes, his jawline that seemed sculpted in marble, his broad shoulders that shaped the rest of his flawless physique.

"Hi, um, it's me," she said as she approached him and he smiled softly as he caught sight of her. "I just wanted to thank you for saving Rose, she's a bit difficult to deal with sometimes."

"Don't thank me, my Padawan is a bit quirky as well," he chuckled, looking at the Togruta, who was talking with Rex. "What's your name?"

"Y/N. Y/N Vantri." She smiled, extending her hand for him to shake.

"Anakin Skywalker. Nice to meet, you, Y/N." He replied, taking her hand and pressing a feartherlight kiss to her knuckles. She smiled, blushing a pale shade of pink at his gesture.

The feeling of his delicate lips brushing the soft skin made her feel like she had known him forever, like she was meant to feel his touch, to be embraced by him. And she most certainly couldn't deny her attraction towards him, it was a bit fuzzy at first but it became crystal clear when her throat ran dry at the sight of the bulging veins on his wrist.

She didn't know it, but he was thinking the exact same thing. He felt a tinge of pride spark inside him, and to his surprise, her blush made his insides do backflips in a way he'd never thought possible, especially when they were triggered by someone he'd know for approximately two minutes. Holding her hand, slipping his fingers under hers to kiss her baby-smooth skin had a certain familiarity and comfort to it, as if he was meant to kiss her until she forgot her own name.

"Did your Padawan get hurt?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Just a small wound on her arm. She should be out soon." Y/N replied, looking over at the medbay on the other side of the campsite.

"May I walk you there?" He offered with a smile.

"Oh, that's very kind of you, but you really don't have-"

"Please?" He pouted, his puppy eyes twinkling with hope. It was too strong of a weapon for her to refuse.

"Sure." She chuckled at how powerful his pleading expression was.

"After you." He said, stepping back to let her take the lead.

"Such a gentleman, thank you." She smiled, a teenage-like giddiness overtaking her. The feeling only triplicated when he held her hand as she stepped over a rocky area, making sure she didn't trip and get hurt.

...

Years later

The two Jedi laid side by side as they looked up at the night sky, admiring the constellations.

"Look, that one looks like a little kitten!" Anakin giggled, pointing at an outline of starts.

"You're right, it's so cute!" Y/N squealed.

Anakin smiled so hard at her. Her undying love for animals and her kindness towards them only made his heart melt further.

"Hey, do you see those two bright stars over there?" He asked, pointing at a small cluster of twinkling stars.

"Uh-huh." She nodded, looking at him curiously.

"Their names are Altair and Vega," he said, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "And it is said that they were deeply in love, but separated by an entire galaxy."

"Oh..." she said, vocalizing her sympathy.

"But once a year, on the seventh day of the seven month..." he took her hand and held it between his own, the flesh hand drawing small circles on her palm with his thumb. "...Vega cries so hard that all the magpies in the world fly up and make a bridge with their wings, so that the two lovers could be reunited for a single night of passion."

She breathed out, speechless. She fell just a little harder for him, looking into his eyes as his fingertips brushed the hair away from her forehead. "Anakin..."

"Hmm?"

"If you keep doing that, I might just fall in love with you." She said quietly, her doe eyes boring into his.

"Does that scare you?" He asked, running his thumb over the back over her hand again.

"It does," she admitted. "But not enough to avoid it."

"Good. Whatever you're afraid of, we can face together." He smiled gently.

She interlocked their fingers, tilting her head slightly. "Thank you."

"You having nothing to thank me for." He said, giving into the temptation of running his thumb over her bottom lip. "May I kiss you, stardust?"

The nickname sent chills down her spine.

As soon as she let out a "yes", his lips softly met hers.

The feeling was divine. The way his lips would mold with hers, a little unsure, but still so passionate and loving... it was simply Anakin. Everything from his scent, to the taste of his lips, to his Force signature intertwining with hers, it engulfed her like a giant embrace from the universe. It was a comfort she never thought she'd be granted the privilege to feel.

"Maker, you're so beautiful." He breathed out, his hand now caressing her cheek.

This time Y/N was the one to initiate the kiss, now with less hesitation and more firmness, sparks lighting up their skin. Anakin experimented by running his tongue over her bottom lip, at which she let out a silent gasp, then began to open her mouth for him. The kiss deepening only made her insides tremble, and she audibly moaned and buried her fingers in his short hair when he gently suckled on the tip of her tongue.

She laid back down on the ground, pulling him down with her without breaking the kiss. He tentatively rested two hands at her sides, and she only responded by pulling him on top of her, which made him squeal adorably in surprise.

His hands began to roam her upper body, and when his warm flesh hand trailed up from her stomach to her face, grazing her breast and her neck in the process, a wave of anxiety made her stomach churn.

She hurriedly pulled away from the kiss, putting her hands to his chest to create a bit of space between them.

"Hey," Anakin cooed, soft pants escaping his mouth. "You okay, angel?"

"Yeah... no." She sat up as he lifted himself off her, terrified of having made her uncomfortable.

"Sorry, Ani, I... I though I could handle it, but I can't, I'm just not ready yet..." she tried to explain, stuttering over her words. "I want this, I really do, but- but then I felt you touching me and as good as it felt, it freaked me out-"

"Hey, sweetie, it's okay. You don't need to justify yourself." He soothed, smiling to try to comfort her.

"I- I'm sorry, Anakin." She sighed, burying her face in her hands.

"Hey, hey, listen to me, I don't want to hear you apologise, understand?" He said, gently prying her hands away from her face. "I want this, too, but it doesn't have to be now. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

"Do you promise?" She asked.

"I promise." He smiled, squeezing her hand. "Take your time, angel. Whenever you're ready, I'll be right here, yeah?"

She smiled brightly at him, nestling her face in the crook of his neck. "You're amazing."

"You're much more amazing than I am, my angel."

#star wars #star wars x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars anakin #tcw anakin #star wars the clone wars #hayden christensen x reader

[mandos-mind-trick]

The Soldier and The Spy

Summary: You're a Separatist spy. It's only ironic that your soulmate fights for the other side.

Pairings: Fives x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, 69, face sitting, Fives is subby, Republic bashing hardcore, enemies to lovers but it happens fast, Soulmate AU, ANGST

A/N: So this was very different when I first imagined it and then this idea took over. It might be the first angsty fic that doesn't have a clear happy ending. Let's just say it's only happy if you see it that way. I actually don't hate this one, but you might hate me for writing it.

MASTERLIST

Your feet pound against the stone path as you run. Just a bit further. You’re almost to your ship. If you can reach it, you have a greater chance of escape. Of course, you had to navigate around the warship hovering in the atmosphere, but at least you wouldn’t be vulnerable and on foot.

You can hear them behind you, the clacking of their plastoid armor, the occasional calling out of orders and directions. Your only advantage is your lack of armor. You’re lighter, and faster, and you knew where you were going. 

You scramble up the steps onto the landing platform, not slowing as you race towards your ship. 

You’re almost there, just within reach when a hand shoots out, grabbing your elbow. You feel a pop in your shoulder as you’re violently redirected, your back slamming against the side of your ship. You’re quickly pinned, staring up at a clone’s helmet. He’s breathing heavily, chest heaving as he stares down at you. He must have been on foot, so how had he managed to pass you? 

“You give a good chase, sweetheart,” He says, pinning you tight against the side of your ship. His vambrace digs into your chest, making it hard to breathe. “But not good enough.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Those words have been printed on your chest, just over your heart, for the last ten years. You spent countless hours trying to imagine just what situation you’ll find yourself in where those words make sense. You spent hours picturing just who was going to say them to you. 

You certainly hadn’t thought it would be this. Nor had you thought it would be a clone saying them to you. 

“You’re one cocky bastard, aren’t you?” You smirk, knowing he’s had that line printed on his skin too. 

You can see when it registers, his hold on you lessening just slightly as he processes the situation. You’re one step ahead, using his surprise to your advantage. You drive a knee upwards, hitting him right where his codpiece ends. He doubles over, releasing you enough that you can slip out of his hold, running for the ramp of your ship. 

You’re almost there, but he recovers faster than you expected him to, your body going rigid as he stuns you before you drop, falling unconscious. 

***

You wake in a cell. You could guess where you were before you even opened your eyes. You’re stretched out on a cot, hardly more than a metal bed. It’s certainly not the most uncomfortable place you’ve woken in before. You push yourself to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. That clone must have dislocated it when he grabbed you. 

Your soulmate. 

The clone that’s your soulmate. 

Ironic, really, that you would end up on opposite sides of the war. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice. As a clone, he had no choice on which side he fought for. Clones. The Republic’s loyal flesh machines that would happily lay down their lives for a system that doesn’t care about them. The Republic would resort to using living beings to fight. At least battle droids aren’t alive. They don’t feel, they don’t breathe, they barely think. 

You sigh, trying to move your injured shoulder. A deep ache burns through you, your shoulder hardly moving at all. It feels tight and swollen, and you can just imagine a huge bruise on your skin. 

“Excuse me.” You say, turning to face the energy shield keeping you in the cell. The two troopers stationed outside turn to look at you. “Can I see a medic? I think your buddy dislocated my shoulder when he grabbed me.” 

They share a look before one walks away. You hope they are actually getting a medic. A dislocated shoulder is hardly the worst injury you’ve had to live with, but you’re not exactly thrilled about being injured on an enemy ship. Not that you had any hopes of escaping. There were probably thousands of clones crawling every inch of this ship and the chances of you getting into the landing bay to steal a ship successfully were small. 

Going up against hundreds, if not thousands, of trained soldiers by yourself? Well, you’ve already lost to one. 

You’re left waiting an immeasurable amount of time before more troopers arrive, flanking whom you can only assume is the Jedi general. You’ve never met a Jedi before. You’ve never really seen one either. Part of your job was to avoid them at all costs, and you’ve been successful, up to this point. 

You assume they’re not here to fix your shoulder.

You meet the gaze of the Jedi as he and the two troopers enter your cell, not backing down despite how much you’d like to. His gaze is sharp, piercing right into you like he’s reading your very soul. From what little you know about Jedi, he might actually be doing that. He looks young, though. Not much younger than yourself. 

“You’re more well behaved than I figured a Separatist spy might be in this situation.” He says, breaking the tense silence. 

“Then you must not have much experience with Separatists.” You counter, testing the boundaries. 

A smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. “You gonna make this easy on me?” 

You scoff, leaning back against the wall. “You really don’t have much experience with Separatists, then.” 

The Jedi shrugs. “You don’t have to talk to me. I know the Republic will do their own questioning when we arrive. If you’re willing to talk now, it might make that a little easier.” 

You stare at him for a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be able to force me to talk with your little magic tricks?” 

He smirks. “That’s only reserved for dire situations. The Jedi look down on using the Force to interrogate even Separatists.” 

You sit up a little straighter. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not like most Jedi?” 

He smirks at you before turning to one of the troopers behind him. They both leave your cell, leaving you behind with one of the troopers. It’s the one that caught you. 

Your soulmate. 

He and the other clone leave the cell, leaving you and your soulmate alone. He stands there, staring at you for a while. You stare back, right into his visor. You wonder what he’s thinking, what his plan is. He could reject you. You had heard something about clones rejecting their soulmates. Maybe he hopes rejecting you will force you into speaking. 

“You just gonna stand there or are you going to interrogate me?” You ask, breaking the silence.

He finally moves, lifting his hands to remove his helmet. You stare at his face, pretty much what you would expect. You know what the clones look like, generally. He has the standard face, the standard haircut. He has a goatee, though, and an Aurebesh “5” tattooed on the side of his head. His eyes are brown, deep and expressive as they stare at you. 

“I’m not here to interrogate you.” He finally says. “Like the General said, the GAR will take care of that once we get back to Coruscant.” He stares at your face for a moment. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You huff out a laugh. “You wouldn’t be saying that if I wasn’t your soulmate. If I remember correctly I was just some ‘Separatist scum.’” 

His jaw clenches, brow furrowing as he stares at you. “Why would you join the Separatists?” 

“Why do you fight for the Republic?” You counter. 

You’ve backed him into a corner. You know it, and he knows it. 

“If you actually knew the truth about the Republic you fight for, I don’t think you’d be so willing to lay down your life for it.” You say. 

“The truth?” His fists clench at his sides, and you know you’ve struck a nerve. The clones really are just mindlessly loyal. “What, the propaganda the Separatists feed their citizens?” 

“You don’t think the Republic feeds propaganda to its citizens too? You think so highly of a Republic that is just a bunch of cushy Senators that sit in a building and debate endlessly while their people die by the thousands across the entire galaxy every day.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, starting to get angry. 

“No?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Maybe you should start paying more attention. What are you really to the Republic? Just another number, right?” 

He turns his back to you, shoulders squared. “I’d never join the Separatists.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” You say. You’ve pressed some buttons. You know that. “Aren’t you supposed to reject me?” 

He deflates a bit, his head drooping. “We’re supposed to. It’s what the GAR wants.” 

You close your good hand into a fist. Just another way to dehumanize their human army. You’d expect nothing less. 

“Most of us don’t agree. We don’t follow that rule.” He turns back around, staring at you. “It’s not fair. To us, or to our soulmates. The General doesn’t care either. A lot of them don’t. I’m not going to reject you. I made a promise to someone, and even if he’s gone, I’m keeping my half of that promise. I need you to promise me something.” 

You stay quiet, staring at him, waiting for him to continue. You’d never agree to a promise unless you knew what it was. 

“There will be GAR officials waiting when we land to take you into custody. I don’t know exactly what will happen after that, but I can imagine they’ll question you. They might offer you a deal. Whatever happens, just don’t mention our connection. Don’t say anything about soulmates. We were put together for a reason. We’re not just going to meet this once and that be it.” 

You stay quiet, your gaze on the floor. He’s asking a lot of someone he just met, someone on the opposite side of the war. As much as you want to believe him, you know you’re likely headed to a prison cell where you’ll spend the rest of your life. Stealing Republic data for the Separatists was not a good look, and the likelihood of them offering any sort of deal is slim. You don’t know enough about the Separatist leadership or plans to offer much in exchange. You just break into Republic information systems and steal its data. 

It’s not looking good for you. 

“I can’t promise anything.” You finally say. 

You can’t look at him. You don’t know why, but you can’t bring yourself to look at his face. Shame burns through you, and you hate it. He’s just another clone, someone who could die tomorrow for all you know. 

He’s your soulmate. 

He sighs, putting his helmet back on, moving toward the energy shield. “Fives.” He says, pausing before he steps through. “My name’s Fives, because my designation number is all fives.” 

He leaves you then, not turning back to look at you. 

You keep your gaze down, your face burning as tears start to form. You hate it. You hate that you feel this way. You’re not supposed to care about them, about anyone. You get data, you deliver it to a designated spot, then you get paid. That’s all you care about. 

You don’t care about a stupid clone. 

You sit, fighting tears for another immeasurable amount of time. It’s hard to tell how much time has passed with no chronometer. A window would have been nice, at least to have something other than grey walls and the troopers guarding your cell. Staring at them only makes you feel worse. 

More troopers arrive and for a moment you’re scared you’ve landed and you’re about to meet your fate. They approach the cell, speaking quietly to the two troopers outside before the energy shield is lowered, three of them stepping in. You stare at the one approaching you, the medic’s symbol on his shoulder. 

He kneels down in front of you silently, scanning your shoulder. “Dislocated.” He says, putting the scanner away. He stands, taking your arm in his hands. “I’ll reset it on three. One, two.” He pushes on your shoulder, an audible pop sounding as it moves back into place. 

You let out a yelp, glaring up at him. “What happened to three?” 

“You would have tensed on three.” He says, pressing against the joint with his fingers. “Makes it easier for both of us if you’re relaxed.” 

He pulls an injector from his belt, stabbing you in the shoulder with it. You make another noise as he injects the bacta, rubbing your shoulder when he’s done. A bit rough for a medic, but you are the enemy here. 

“Thanks.” You say, already feeling the pain lessen as the bacta works. 

He stares at you for a second, obviously taken aback by your politeness. Just because you’re a Separatist doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole all the time. 

They leave you alone again, left to nothing but your thoughts. You almost would have preferred another interrogation. 

***

You’re carted away by more troopers as soon as the ship lands. It’s a bit ridiculous just how many of them are there. They must not successfully capture Separatists often. 

You’re immediately taken into an interrogation. It’s a good tactic, really. You’re exhausted and hungry and just ready for them to throw you in a cell for the rest of your life already. 

You don’t make it easy for them, though. It’s not your nature. 

After days of grueling interrogation and a lack of sleep, they finally offer you an ultimatum. You’re surprised they’ve offered you a deal, but perhaps the war was not waging as well as they liked to make it seem. 

Life in prison, or work for them. 

Neither of the options are ideal, and both are the same in a way. Your life would be under intense watch and scrutiny regardless, but the chances of you getting eaten or worse under the GAR’s watch was significantly less. 

You only regret choosing to work for the GAR a little. Your data scraping skills were less important to them as your code breaking skills. Turns out they aren’t as skilled as they like to pretend, and the absolute nonsense the droids used to encrypt the Separatist files is hard for them. 

If it keeps you out of a prison cell, then whatever. You’ll do it. 

Maybe Fives had been right. 

You force that thought out of your mind as fast as it arrives. You’ll deal with that later. 

You have enough to worry about with the GAR’s incessant chokehold on you. You swear you can’t even use the fresher without them constantly surveying your every move. You get it, they’re just trying to make sure you’re not going to betray them or try and run. It’s not like you really have anywhere else to go. Or anyone to share secrets with anymore. 

More than likely the Separatists would execute you as a traitor if you tried to return, and even if they didn’t, what do you really have to return to? 

Besides, your soulmate is here. 

You hate yourself for it, but you kept his promise. You didn’t breathe a word of Fives and your connection to him. They didn’t ask about your soulmate, other than taking note of the words on your chest at intake. Easy identification, you know that. Not that you were really planning to escape. Not that you have the skills to even try. 

As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but think about Fives. Where he is, if he’s alright. You know it’s just the connection talking, the beginning of your bond that had been formed when you spoke the words to each other. It’s only going to get worse the longer you’re apart from him. He must know you kept your promise, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. You can imagine the cocky smirk on his face when he realized you hadn’t spilled anything. You had kept his promise despite not agreeing to. 

Maker, you hate yourself sometimes. 

As the weeks pass, and you continue to prove your obedience to the GAR, they begin to lessen their chokehold on your every movement. You know part of it is the shifting of the war, the Republic barely managing to keep a leg up on the Separatists. You manage to get some freedom, able to go places within a short distance from the base. It’s in this new found freedom, you get back into contact with Fives. 

One of the 501st troopers approaches you while you’re away from the base, and for a moment you think he’s there to take you back, but instead he passes by, slipping a comm device into your hand. You slip it into your pocket, grabbing what you need before heading back to the base. 

You shut yourself in the fresher, the only place you have any privacy, pulling out the comm device. You stare at it for a moment. This could be a trap, an attempt by the GAR to either out your soulmate, or out you as not being as loyal as you tried to make them believe you were. 

“Hello?” You give in, speaking into it. You don’t care, you need to hear Fives’ voice again. The need, the itching under your skin to be close to him has almost become unbearable. If you can just hear his voice, maybe it will ease the ache just a bit. 

“Hello, mesh’la.” His voice comes through, your breath leaving in a relieved huff of air. “It’s good to hear your voice.” 

“I didn’t think it would really be you.” You say, leaning your head against the wall. You’re relieved to hear his voice, if only as proof it’s not a trap. 

“Why wouldn’t it be me?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Did you think this was a trap?” 

“Yes.” You admit. “I wouldn’t put it past the GAR.” 

“Then why did you use it?” 

You want to reach through the comm and slap the smirk off his face. “Maybe because I was hoping it was the Separatists coming to rescue me.” 

It’s quiet for a moment. “I probably wouldn’t joke about that.” 

You glance around the ceiling of the fresher, half expecting to find a hidden camera or a recording device. “Probably not. They’ve had quite the chokehold on me for a while.” 

“I know. It took some planning just for this to happen.” He sounds tired. Weary. You wonder just how badly he’s been feeling, since he has to still fight a war on top of everything else. “You didn’t say anything.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, pulling your knees to your chest. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“I’d like to see you again.” He says, his voice so soft, so disarming.

“If you can pull that off, I’ll be impressed.” You say. 

“I have something in the works. We’ll be returning to Coruscant soon. Just be prepared.” 

“That’s helpful.” You say. 

“I can’t give too much away. It has to seem genuine. If the GAR suspects anything...” 

“I know.” You say. “It’ll spell trouble for us both. I’d rather not have to go to prison if I can help it. I very much like having my little bit of freedom.” 

“I’d like to not be decommissioned either.” He goes quiet for a moment. “I have to go. Just keep an eye out in a few days.” 

“Okay.” You say, trying not to smile. 

You hate the way he makes you feel. 

*** A Few Months Later ***

You anxiously pace the small living area in your tiny apartment. You haven’t been able to sit still since the comm message came in last night. You barely slept, mind too busy racing to rest much. You look a mess, despite your best efforts to make yourself appear put together. 

Maker, you have it bad. 

Over the last few months the GAR had continued to loosen its watchful hold over your life, and they had allowed you to move into your own apartment just off the base. You know they’re still watching, still making sure nothing suspicious is going on, but you’re glad for a little bit of freedom. You know they’ve also done it because the war has been shifting even more. Things are not going as well as they’d hoped, and allocating resources to watching ex-Separatist spies who willingly defected to join the GAR was not high on their list anymore. 

You’re glad for the privacy, because it makes seeing Fives easier. The first time he’d seen you after your defection had been a process that involved his general and his captain. A quick fib about needing your help with some data they had on board had led to you and Fives fucking in the empty barracks. It had gotten easier to sneak away as the GAR loosened its hold on you. 

You’ve only seen Fives three times since then, as his trips to Coruscant were becoming few and far between. You hate it, the time you have to spend apart. It’s getting harder and harder as the bond continues to strengthen between you. You’re going insane, and talking isn’t enough anymore. You want to be with him all the time, but you know that’s not possible. 

A knock sounds at your door and your heart jumps. You swallow the nerves, the excitement. You don’t want to look like you’ve been waiting for a visitor if it’s not Fives. That would raise questions and that’s the last thing you need. 

You take a peek out the viewport before opening the door. “Fives!” 

“Hello, mesh’la.” He smirks, opening his arms. 

You tug him into your apartment, letting the door close behind him. You wrap your arms around him, tugging him down into a kiss. He meets your lips eagerly, his hands roaming all over your body as if to make sure you’re still whole, still real. 

“Someone missed me.” He smirks, trying to pull away from your lips, but you tangle a hand in his hair, pulling him back. He laughs, his hands settling on your hips. 

Your hands tug at his armor, starting to take it off piece by piece. 

“Easy, little loth cat.” He says, stilling your hands. “We have a few hours.” 

You give him a look. “If you don’t hurry up and get inside me, I will kick you out on the street.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He laughs, letting you tug him back towards the bedroom. 

You tug your own shirt over your head, helping him remove pieces of his armor. He’s already half hard, your hand ghosting over the bulge under his blacks. He lets out a quiet sound, hips attempting to push against your hand, but you move it. 

“Evil.” He grunts, looping his fingers under your waistband. He tugs your pants down, eyes widening as he sees the lack of underwear underneath. “You were waiting for this.” 

“Yes.” You say, tugging his shirt over his head. “I need you so kriffing bad.” 

“We’ve got a few hours.” He says, tugging his blacks down his legs. “But I have to leave early. We’re shipping out to Ringo Vinda in the morning.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your toes to press your forehead against his. “I hate when you have to leave.” 

“I know.” He kisses you softly. “I’m here now. That’s what matters.” 

You kiss him back, letting him lead you backwards towards the bed. He turns, lifting you into his arms before he lays back on the bed. He pulls away for a moment to groan in satisfaction, going lax under you. 

“I miss how comfortable this bed is.” He says, stretching his arms out.

You shrug. “I’ve slept in better.” 

He grabs your thighs, tugging you closer. “Cheeky.” He tugs you further up his body. “Sit on my face.” 

You breathe out a curse, moving yourself so you’re hovering over him. You grab onto the headboard, his hands closing around your thighs to tug you down so you’re sitting on him. His mouth immediately meets your pussy, already wet. You’ve been wet since this morning, thinking about having him all to yourself once again. Your fingers were never enough, and it only made you miss him more. 

He closes his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You let out a cry, tangling a hand in his hair. It’s been a while, too busy to even bother getting yourself off. Your hips grind against his face as he shifts slightly lower, nose bumping your clit as he licks at your opening. He groans something inaudible, his tongue pressing into you as his hands guide you to continue grinding against his face. 

He sucks on your clit once more and you’re cumming, legs shaking as you soak his face. He holds you there, licking you clean as you come down from your high. You shift off his face, his skin shining with your slick.

“Kriff.” You whisper as you stare down at him, his eyes dark with lust. “That’s a good look on you.” 

He smirks wickedly. “Well, hopefully soon it’ll be a permanent look.” 

You make a quiet noise, biting your lip at the thought. Having him whenever, wherever you want. That’s the dream. “My turn.” You say, turning around so your back is to him, laying yourself flat on his stomach so you’re face to face with his cock. 

He groans, hands spreading your folds. “That’s a beautiful sight right there.” 

You take him into your mouth as he presses a finger into you. His groan vibrates through your body, the stretch of his fingers making you moan around him. He breathes out a curse, slipping a second finger into you. He pumps them lazily as you suck his cock, keeping your hand tight around the base. You debate sucking the soul right out of him, but you want him to cum inside you. You want him inside you. Badly. 

You pull yourself away before he can cum, making him whine. You sit up, moving so you’re straddling his hips. You give him a smirk, his lips parting as he stares at you. 

“Oh, kriff.” He breathes, staring at you wide eyed as you grab his cock, sinking down onto it. 

You moan at the stretch, your very soul seeming to relax as you take every inch of him. He’s so big, no matter how many times you take him, it’s always a stretch. He’s breathing heavily under you, eyes wide as he stares up at you. 

“Feel so good.” You moan, rocking your hips just slightly. “Missed you.” 

“Kriff,” He curses, hands gripping your hips. “Missed you too.” 

You curse, lifting yourself up just slightly before sinking back down. “So good for me.” You say, tracing his chest. 

Something changes in his gaze at your words, his hands tightening around your hips. You’re already sensitive from your first orgasm, sweat beginning to slick your skin as you bounce on top of him. His eyes lock onto your breasts as you move, hands cupping your ass. You’ve been trying to figure out which is his favorite, but you haven’t been successful. 

Maybe he just likes all of you. 

The feeling is mutual. 

You continue to move on top of him, bouncing and grinding as you chase your second of what will be many orgasms tonight. Fives is moaning and whining under you, close to his own orgasm. You watch his face, the way it morphs into nothing but pure pleasure as you squeeze around him, drawing his first orgasm of the night from him. 

His hands are bruising around your hips, your hand slipping around to your front to circle your clit. You cum a second time, shaking above him as you brace your hands on his stomach. He watches you through lidded eyes as you cum, drawing your pleasure from him. 

He pulls you down onto his chest, smoothing his hands across your back. You’re both sweaty and panting, but you’re far from finished with each other. 

“A minute.” You breathe, letting yourself go limp on top of him. “Gimme a minute.” 

“That good, huh?” He smirks. 

You make a face, shaking your head. “You cocky bastard.”  

***

“Fives?” You ask, tracing patterns on his chest. It’s late, both of you well fucked and satiated for the time being. You know he has to go in a couple hours, slip out of your small apartment and head back to the base. 

He hums in response, eyes closed and half asleep. 

You take a deep breath, scared to bring up the topic you had been avoiding speaking about. You hadn’t trusted to talk about it over the comms, needing to say it directly to his face. “Would you ever consider deserting?” 

He’s awake now, eyes snapping open. “What?” 

“Would you ever consider deserting the GAR?” You ask again. 

He sits up, practically pushing you off him. “Why would you even ask that?” 

You sit up, pulling the sheets up to cover your chest. “I’m scared, Fives.” You admit, voice wavering. “I overheard something, and it’s scaring me.” 

“What did you hear?” He asks, brows furrowing. 

“I caught part of an encrypted conversation. It was something about some plan to wipe out the Republic using the clones.” 

Fives stands from the bed, shaking his head. “That’s...that’s ridiculous. You don’t even know if it’s true.” 

“But what if it is?” You plead with him, staring at his back. “I’m scared, Fives. If anyone finds out I overheard that...we’re all in danger.” 

Fives stares out the small window in your bedroom, hands closed in fists at his side. He’s wound tight, like a coil about to spring. You stare at his back, begging for anything, any sign that he might believe you.

“What do you expect us to do?” He finally says, turning around. 

“Leave.” You say. “Go somewhere they can’t find us.” 

“I can’t just abandon my brothers. Especially if what you heard is true.” 

“Who could we even tell that would believe us?” You ask. “For all we know every high-ranking GAR official is in on it. If this is as big as it’s sounding, everyone could be in on it.” You reach out for him, your hand shaking. “I’m scared, Fives. I don’t want to lose you.” 

He sighs, taking your hand, letting you pull him back onto the bed. He wraps his arms around you, holding onto you tightly. “You won’t lose me.” He kisses your forehead. He pulls the sheets around you, surrounding you with his warm embrace. “Right now, let’s just forget about the war. Forget about everything. We’ll worry about this tomorrow.” 

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry, @6oceansofmoons,  @ladytano420, @spicy-clones, @dangraccoon, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @stunkbiggu, @endofthexline, @padawancat97 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @rosechi

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #fives x reader #clone trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #x reader #clone thirsting #soulmate au

[heliosthegriffin]

Mastery

A young man walks down a dirt road. A tall trees gives shade to him as he walk in the dimming light of the afternoon. He breathes heavily, sweat pouring from his brow, his back completely drenched by sweat, his steps remain steady as he keeps going forward down the road with seemingly no end.

Off in the distance, at almost random intervals, all the sound in the forest would die for a minutes on end, bringing terrible silence in the otherwise lively forest. It was a sound like the fiercest wind ramming and breaking against stone, following by a loud crashing sound.

It was towards this sound that would emerge that the young man was walking towards, the first time he heard it, it nearly sent him running, now when he heard it, his ears would twitch toward the sound, and he would unconsciously correctly his path.

Hours passed, and he entered a part of the forest where the path ended, and where that dreadful silence didn't go away. Other than the trees and brush, there was no life here that, at least none that he could hear or see.

The sound became more intense here when it occurred, and he could feel it when it happened, it was like a someone had used his chest like a drum. The sound echoing inside him for a endless instant. Fear exploded inside him every time the sound echoed, as every step forward he took feeling like a mistake, as the urge to walk back became a ever growing companion to him.

Finally, though, he made it. Into a completely barren clearing facing a scarred mountainside. He looked down at the dry-brown ground, it was so worn and abused to have a sandy composition and feel. It was level and flat in some places, while having mounds and being pushed together in other places, it was chaotic.

In the center of the clearing facing the mountainside, a man stood shirtless with long shabby blonde hair that covered his back. He was barefoot, wearing only a pair of moth-eaten trousers, and holding a old, worn sword in his right hand.

It was like looking at a statue, how still the man was, or maybe, a corpse that had died standing up. He stared at the man wondering if he was who he thought he was, or if he had died long ago, that this man in front of him had died standing up sometime today?

Wind-kicked up, as the man moved like lightning, bright, instantaneous, and mysterious to behold. As one moment his sword was at his side, then, his whole stance had changed, going for relaxed to battle ready with no frames in between. His arm holding his sword was out like he was stabbing at the mountain, and a deafening booming sound hit him at what felt like point-black.

A dust storm kicked up all around the clearing, and it became clear why here was so devoid of life, as the wind hit the young man threatening to knocked him over, if not, carry him away outright. If not for the small tendrils of light extending from his feet and into the ground. Even, then it was a near-thing.

Minutes passed before the localized storm abated, and the young man rose up coughing, eyes watering from the experience. Heart racing, as that echoing sound felt like it was going to explode out of his chest to escape him.

Rising up on tired limbs, he waved his hand through the dusty air, and beheld the mountain-side with awe. His eyes-widening, seeing it clearly, it was a sculpture, a rough-one, but one carved for hundreds of feet across, and tens of feet deep into the stone sides of the mountain. It was four sculptures, two young men, and two young women, laughing.

Then he froze, as through the dusty cloud, he could see two glowing blue eyes looking at him. Those eyes held weight and power like anything he had seen before, Huntsmen and Huntress, Battle Droids and Grimm, none of them held a weight like this, like it was piercing through him and anchoring him.

The eyes looked at him calmly, the blonde man had not emotions towards him, and yet his gaze still managed to put him place. It was otherworldly, as the young man fully realized the gap between them.

There wasn't even a blur as the man moved, as he simple was, his hand was at his side, then it was at shoulder height like he was greeting him, and the a gale of air, knocked away all the dust left int he air. He wasn't just smooth, he wasn't fluid, he was something else, it like, instead of going through a motion, he could start a motion A, and then go to motion Z, without appearing to go through the motions between.

"Oh, didn't see you there," The man called out to him, almost, embarrassed? "I didn't think I'd get company out here."

The young man didn't have a response, still pinned in place.

"I don't really have a place for you to sit down, but uh, feel free to sit where you please." The man had looked away, it seemed like it had been a while since talked to anyone.

The man started whistling off key. As if waiting for him to carry on the conversation, but also not so subtle nudging head towards the mountainside meaningfully.

Still, the young man struggled to saying anything with the weight of the man's presence upon him. The man, though was getting twitchy the longer he was in the conversation, looking as though he was about to run away, if this dragged on any further.

"I-, I'm just gonna go, you -" The man began.

"Please, teach me, Master Arc!" The young man interrupted.

The man looked surprised, his brow furrowing in confusion. He pointed at himself. "Me? A master, since when?"

The young mans eyes looked over towards the mountainside, the back at the shirtless man, which was equal-parts scared and muscled. "I'd say, awhile."

"Ugh, Master Arc sounds way too formal and important for me, just call me, Jaune, ok?" Then he looked at the sculpture that was carved by his sword strikes into the mountain. "Oh, that? That's just a hobby, to relive the good ol' days, but that doesn't make me a master, though. I'm just a middle-aged man in the woods." Jaune said, his body-language becoming more relaxed.

The young man looked at him in disbelief. "A-are you serious? I mean, I think this goes beyond a hobby, it's a little rough," Jaune staggered a bit at the criticism, but then nodded in agreement. "But, that's not something you could do and call yourself an amateur!"

Jaune looked away, embarrassed. "Yeah, that's true. But, I'm not calling myself amateur. I think, I'm pretty good, but that's no reason to go calling myself a Master, I mean that's not really a title you can give yourself anyway, so If I called myself one, it'd be a pretentious and make me look like I'm hopped up on my own ego."

"But, your name is respected and feared around the world!" Jaune looked proud for a moment, then immediately sad, once he realized he was feared. "In the current era, if goes without saying that you're the best swordsman on Remnant!"

Jaune smile crookedly. "Yeah, but that sound a little too exaggerated."

The Young man looked at the mountain side. "No, not at all."

"Uh lets move away from that," Jaune said, waving his arms to attract his attention from his hobby-project. Then he sighed. "Let's cut to the chase, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to teach me." The young man bowed to him.

"Sorry, but I don't think I'm qualified."

The young man raised a eyebrow.

"Ok, I'm kinda of alright, but," Jaune sighed a bit, as though rolling around a thought in his mind. "Why do you want to learn from me in particular?"

"Because, you're the strongest master swordsman."

"Ok, but what does that mean? What does Mastery mean, to you?"

The young man opened his mouth, but struggled to answer the question. After a minute, he gave up and just went with his gut answer. "That you've become the best at it? That you've achieved a state of being with the sword that no one else can achieve, and hit the final state of being as a swordsman?"

Jaune shook his head. "Wrong. There's no such thing as the best, at least here. What I've achieved, anyone can with the right amount of work, and there is no final state."

"Then, what is mastery? What does it mean to be a master?"

"Master, I guess, doesn't really exist, it's a title people are given when they're not only good at their subject of experience, but also can teach others. But, the way people call a person a master after a level of experience, is kinda of wrong. When, they call someone a master swordsman, they just mean a really good swordsman that's hit higher level than them. But, mastery isn't a level, it's a state of being, of seeking out your flaws and improving upon them. It's not being stronger and better, its about moving forward past your failures and learning from them, seeking self-improvement and understanding. If all you are is just good at something without improving, then it's not mastery, it's just complacency."

The young man stared at him. "So, what you're saying is, you're a Master?"

Jaune twitched in place, then slowing walked away.

"Wait! Will you teach me though?!"

"No." Jaune said after a moment.

The young man looked struck for a moment, then sighed.

"But, I won't make you leave either, if you can learn something from watching me, then you can try."

The young man smiled. "May I ask a question?"

Jaune shrugged. "I'm not charging, so why not?"

"How do you channel your aura to make your aura slashes invisible, such a power is near-invincible! And, how do you make them so strong?"

Jaune looked at him confused. "Aura?" Then he lifted his arm, flexing as a gust of wind emanated from him, his arm showing a inhuman level of tone and muscularity. "I'm just using my body." He swung his sword, that sound returning. "Those are basically just me making some breeze."

The young man froze, then realized the whole time he could not feel any aura being used by the man. Then slowly feel backward, unconiously, as the absurdity of his master, coupled with a several hard days journey finally catching up to him.

Jaune smiled awkwardly. "It isn't that unusually is it?" He looked far away. "Huh, this happened last time I out too, didn't it?" He hummed a bit. "It'd be a bit too destructive if I used my aura for anything other healing." He smiled. "I still got a ways to go, control-wise, before I can call myself a good at aura, though."

#Jaune Arc

[pencildragons]

snippet from my upcoming foxquin fic sinner, sinner (come to dinner) for foxquinweek !!!!!

“Commander Fox,” says the Chancellor, smiling his kindly smile. Fox stands very still and stares straight ahead, past Palpatine and through the great transparisteel window at the city below, skyline exploding in the brilliance of the sun’s final dying rays. The fanciful part of him that will one day be responsible for his death imagines that, if he’s just still enough, Palpatine will forget him entirely. It’s ridiculous, he knows, he knows, of course he knows, but he clings to it anyway, endeavours to move as little as possible, turns trying to hide even the slight rise and fall of his chest into some sort of test of how good his impression of being a block of stone is. “Sir,” says Fox. “Commander Fox,” Palpatine says again, still smiling that awful fucking smile, but sadder, now, mournful, bushy eyebrows doing something terrible and expressive. “You have disappointed me.” “Yes, sir.” “I gave you a very simple directive, Commander, and still you failed.” Fox is barely breathing now. Only a few klicks away, the spire of the Jedi Temple burns in a halo of pink-red, spearing through the cloud-strewn sky. It looks like one of the paintings hung in the Senate rotunda corridors, the ones that like as not cost more to procure than he did. His throat is dry. He tries to swallow. It sticks. It is likely he is dehydrated. There is a little light flashing on top of the spire, warning away in-atmo transports and low-flying starships. Orange-blue-green. Orange-blue-green. He stares at it, so he doesn’t have to look at Palpatine. “Yes, sir.” “Such inadequacy is, of course, unacceptable, Commander, as I’m sure you’re aware. I really had hoped it would not come to this, you understand.” Liar, Fox thinks. You love this. “But there is only one way to learn, and that is through experiencing consequences of your actions. Perhaps next time you will not take your sworn duty so lightly, hmm?” “Yes, sir.” “Draw your blaster, please, Commander.” Fox blinks and, in his surprise, breaks his stillness to turn his head to face Palpatine properly. “…Sir?” “Must I repeat myself twice? Draw your blaster from your holster.” Slowly, Fox draws. He wonders if this is some sort of test, if he’s going to be punished further for making his weapon naked in front of the Supreme Chancellor of the entire fucking Republic. (In the light of the dusk spilling through the window into the opulent office, Palpatine’s eyes seem almost gold. It is for but a brief moment, just the rays of the fat sun catching oddly, and then they return to that sharp, ice-chip grey like nothing at all happened.) “Good,” says Palpatine, and smiles again. Like this, he looks like some natborn’s father’s father—grandfather, he believes the term is—all benevolent wrinkles and knowing looks. “Set it to kill.” Fox sets it to kill. It is not a difficult thing. He is just as much a weapon as the blaster in his hands, well-oiled, clean, smooth. Efficient. He was designed for this. It is easier to follow orders mindlessly; his brain, like all their brains (except, perhaps, Kote’s, but Kote’s a little fucked up and is an outlier for everything else, anyway), is primed for command, made to obey. A perfect, thoughtless gun, with just enough ruthlessness and self-determination to set them apart from the CIS’ droids. That’s the idea, anyway. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time the Kaminoans failed in the execution of something. “Turn around, Commander,” Palpatine murmurs, words soft and smooth and rich as the heavy velvet-fabric from his home planet that he has all his clothes cut from. “And fire at will.”

rbs deeply appreciated :]

#this is what i was referencing with my cody sunrise fox sunset motif post BTW. if you even care #commander fox #sheev palpatine #foxquin #quinfox #vox #bro idk which is the right tag #wyrm writes #i am SO excited to post this hopefully???? i get it done in time #or the first part done in time at least. bc i have a feeling it will be monstrously long #oranges and sunflower seeds 'verse #technically it is !!!!!!! i think #it assumes the premise for how quinfox meet from one of the other fics im writing for fqw #and that fic is in oranges and sunflower seeds #so like close enough LOL #palpatine #foxquinweek2024 #commander cody #but briefly #2024 resolution is to post more of my writing #sw #starwars #the clone wars #tcw #ss(ctd)

[fanfoolishness]

Blind Side (The Bad Batch)

Wrecker catches Crosshair for a heart-to-heart, and reminds him of something that happened long ago. Set between 3x05 and 3x06, ~ 1700 words, Crosshair's tremor, family feels, Wrecker being a good brother <3.

---

Dawnlight bathes the stone steps in florid pinks and golds.  Crosshair’s boots slip down the steps quickly, softly.  A few of the locals are up, fisherfolk down at the docks preparing for the day, but most of the island still slumbers.  It’s as he prefers it.

His rifle rests securely in his arms as he makes his way across the beach.  He presses it close to his chest as he makes his way to the little cove he’s started to think of as his training ground.  Omega’s Kaminoan droid waits for him obediently, carrying a basket of fruit.   Every rotation for the past week the little round droid has cheerfully met him here, a fact he is begrudgingly grateful for.

“Good morning, CT-9904!” the droid says cheerfully.  Crosshair just nods.  He grabs one of the fruits and takes a bite, then gestures out to the open water, giving the rest of the basket to the droid.  The droid hovers out, targets in hand as Crosshair finishes the fruit.  It’s extra sweet this morning, but with a sour edge that makes his mouth pucker.  It tastes like nothing he’s ever eaten before.  He thinks he likes it.

He wipes his hand on his side, and hefts the rifle.

It’ll be different today.  Just have to concentrate.  He checks his stance, his balance, his breathing, his posture, all of the things he has had drilled into him since he was a cadet.  For a moment, it almost feels like it’s working.

Then he lowers his eye to the scope, and his hand jerks helplessly out to the side.  

He growls, a muffled sound of frustration.  He shakes out his hand, glaring at it.  He tries again, this time sighting AZI and the target, and the shot goes wide.

He takes a deep breath.

Again.

---

It’s an hour later, and his success rate is sitting at 47.2%, and he doesn’t know what to do.

It doesn’t improve his mood any when he hears heavy footsteps in the sand.  He turns, scowling up at the shadows cast by Wrecker and Batcher.

The hound leaps forward, wagging her tiny tail furiously, licking him on the cheek before he can stop her.  He pats her on the neck and apologizes while she wiggles in delight.  “I snuck out on you.  I know, I know.  I won’t do it again.”  He glances up at Wrecker, who’s rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.  “I suppose she led you down here?”

“Ahh, she was hungry,” says Wrecker.  “I heard her looking for breakfast and figured I’d join her, ‘specially since the fruit’s been extra good lately.  After she ate, she came looking for you.”  He frowns, squinting out at AZI.  “You’re supposed to eat it, not shoot it.”

“I’ve been told, yes,” says Crosshair.  He lowers his rifle cautiously.  

Do they realize?  That I can’t --

He rests the rifle against the rock, and settles into a sitting position.  If Hunter and Wrecker haven’t noticed his little problem, he’s not going to spell it out for them.  He’ll simply need to find somewhere else to practice.  Batcher curls up beside him, rolling on her back until she finds a good spot, and promptly falls asleep.

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?” Wrecker asks, plopping down in the sand a few feet away.  The loose sand sprays out in a fine shower beneath his weight.  “We’re lucky here.  Great place to clear your head.”

“Assuming one can find peace and quiet,” says Crosshair pointedly.  Wrecker guffaws, clapping him on the shoulder and knocking him half a foot sideways.

“Just as chatty as you used to be,” Wrecker laughs, his wide face creasing into a smile.  “We missed you, Crosshair.”

Crosshair blinks, surprised by the faint sense of warmth in his cheeks.  “It didn’t seem that way,” he says, and the words sit heavy and awkward between them.  His hand trembles against his leg, and he pins it down with the other one, hoping Wrecker hasn’t noticed.

The grin on Wrecker’s face slides away, replaced by an uncharacteristically serious expression.  Crosshair wonders at it.  

Wrecker says slowly, thoughtfully, “No, we did.  I did.”  He shrugs, looking down at his large, powerful hands.  “Just wasn’t the same without you.”

Crosshair swallows, turning away to watch the surf’s edge.  Little waves lap against the shore.  When he speaks, the words are halting, difficult to get out.  “It wasn’t the same for me, either.”

There’s so much more that he could -- should -- say, but can’t.

I’m sorry.

I was wrong.

I wish things had been different.

He chances a look back at his brother, and Wrecker’s sitting there with tears in his eyes, wiping them with the back of his hand.

Oh, hell.

“Wrecker --”

“No, it’s --”  Wrecker draws his knees up, wrapping his arms around them.  Like that, he looks like an oversized kid again, even more than he usually does.  He sniffs.  “So.  Lemme ask you something.”  

Crosshair hesitates.  “Fine.”

“Remember when I got my shiner?”  Wrecker gestures to the scarred side of his face, his blind eye.  Shiner doesn’t begin to cover it, even now.

“Of course I do.”

“Wrecker’s down!” Tech’s voice calling on comms, more informative than anxious.  Crosshair’s not concerned.  Wrecker always gets back up, always ready to fight again, he’ll just need a minute -- 

But through his scope, Crosshair sees what the others haven’t yet. A helmet cracked in half, Wrecker curled on the ground, bloody burns webbing over the side of his face, blackened skin peeling around a ruined left eye --

“Medic, medic!” comes a strangled cry, and it’s ten seconds before Crosshair recognizes the sound of his own voice --

“Yeah, that’s a hard one to forget, isn’t it?” Wrecker asks, chuckling.

“I’m glad you can laugh about it,” Crosshair says, crossing his arms.  “It was too close.”

“Gotta laugh about it sometimes, right?” says Wrecker, though his smile fades.  “But remember what you told me, that night in the infirmary?  After the others fell asleep?”

“Cross?”

He shifts in the seat beside the infirmary bed, looking over Wrecker’s good side.  Hunter and Tech have fallen asleep against the far wall, Hunter’s head on Tech’s shoulder.  They’d all been exhausted after the battle and its aftermath.  

Soft beeps and noises come from the machines attached to Wrecker.  He’s covered in bandages, and the eye is a lost cause, but he’s alive, and grinning up at Crosshair.

He’ll be okay.

“You’re awake,” says Crosshair in surprise.  “They said you’d be out for hours.”

“You never can keep a good soldier down,” Wrecker says, coughing.  “But I’m guessing this was a pretty bad one.  You’re all in here.  That’s never good.”

“It could be worse,” says Crosshair.  “But not much worse.  This was… close.”  He reaches out, tucking Wrecker’s stuffed tooka doll more securely into the crook of his brother’s arm.  It had been sitting at a funny angle.  “Don’t do it again,” he says.  “I mean it.”

“I’ll try, but you know me!” 

“Yes, I do.”

They’re quiet for a moment, and Crosshair rests his hand on Wrecker’s shoulder, almost absently.  The rise and fall of Wrecker’s shoulder with every breath is a welcome sensation.  Breathe in, breathe out.  It reassures him.

Wrecker pulls Lula closer with one bandaged arm.  “Tell me something, Crosshair.”

“All right.”

“I… think I can only see out of one eye.  Is that uh… is that permanent?”

No point in dragging it out.  “That’s what the droid said.  Sorry, Wrecker.”

Wrecker takes only a minute to digest something that would have destroyed Crosshair, had it happened to him.  The man is indestructible, Crosshair has to grant him that.  “But I can still fight?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.  They said you should be out of here in a few rotations.”

Wrecker leans back against his pillow with a sigh of relief.  “All right then!  Whew.  We’ll just have to change things up, huh?  You’ll watch my blind side?”

Crosshair squeezes his brother’s shoulder, and he feels Wrecker relax.  Crosshair gives him a faint smile.  “Obviously.”

The tremor is back, hand twisting in his lap.  Crosshair closes it into an unsteady fist, grimacing.  It shakes for several seconds, then stills again.

“Yes, I remember,” says Crosshair.  “I said I’d watch your blind side.”  He glances up and sees Wrecker staring at him.  At his hand.  He freezes.

“You wanna talk about it, Crosshair?”

He turns away, a muscle working in his throat.  “No.”

“You wanna have AZI look at it?”

“No.”

Wrecker lets out a heavy huff through his mouth, leaning back in the sand.  He shakes his head, scowling.  “You always were stubborn.”

“It’s in my nature,” says Crosshair.  One of their old jokes.

“Yeah, I know.  Argh!”  

They’re quiet again, the only sounds the water on the sand, Batcher’s steady snoring, seabirds on the wing.

Wrecker nudges Crosshair in the shoulder again.  “Look.  You know I got your blind side, too.  That’s all I’m trying to say.”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak.  There’s an ache in his chest that feels good, something he’d almost forgotten.  It makes his eyes sting.

There’s a sudden flash of movement, and then he’s being crushed by a Wrecker classic, a massive crunching hug that his ribs struggle to move against.  Crosshair lets out a choking sound, but his muscle memory remembers the only way to get it to stop: raising his hands to hug his brother back.  

Wrecker lets him go and he sucks in a deep breath of air, hacking.  Just like old times.  “How touching,” he says, but he can feel the half smile on his face despite himself.

“Good talk,” says Wrecker, and winks at him.  “Come on.  Breakfast?”  Batcher leaps up at the word, all sleep forgotten.

“We’ve already eaten,” Crosshair points out.

“You used half your fruit for target practice, and I’m hungry again.  Talks are hard work!  Come on.”  Wrecker gets to his feet and reaches out a hand, beaming.

Crosshair sighs, and takes it.

#the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #wrecker tbb #crosshair tbb #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #my batcher fic #star wars #season 3 spoilers #hahaha I came on here to post this fic and then got swept into the boop war #hopefully that doesn't affect people reading it lol

[kpopnstarwars]

Took You Long Enough: Kit Fisto x Reader

A/N: omg guess who finally decided it was time to move some star wars stuff onto here!! btw reader is a Nautolan too so can understand Kit's special pheromone tendril language (also the pic is not mine but erm its hot)

Edit: artist's website is here

Warnings: kit fisto's abs, swearing, kissing, water and swimming,

Word count: <1200

You jump at the knock on your door. Kit, no doubt. You can sense the excitement he's emmitting, the eager joy unique to your fellow Nautolan when the two of you are about to go for a swim. It's not often that both of you are on Coruscant at the same time, and you'll take any chance you can get to spend a few moments with each other. To be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if he's jumping up and down outside your door, in nothing but his swimming trunks, scandalising anyone passing by. Your cheeks warm - you're used to Kit's toned body by now, but your want for him comes paired with a deeper feeling, an emotion forbidden to Jedi like you.

Grabbing your towel, you bound through the doorway and find yourself dazzled by Kit's smile, his large eyes shimmering with sheer enthusiasm as he presents you with his signature grin. He leans against the wall, hands jauntily on his hips, in his swimming trunks, a robe haphazardly pulled over. The brown fabric is not quite closed, and the narrow parting at the front reveals a sliver of smooth green skin which your eyes slip far too easily over.

'Took you long enough, sweet,' he teases, and you smack his shoulder. 'I take as long as I want, Fisto.' He laughs. 'Well, let's make you hurry. Last one in the pool is bantha fodder.'

He sprints off in a flash of brown robes, his green tendrils flying out behing him. Muttering a very not Jedi - ish curse under your breath, you sprint after Kit, hoping no senators lurk in the corridors to catch sight of two Nautolans in swimming wear racing through the hallways. Or worse, Master Windu. You're pretty sure he wouldn't approve of two high ranking Jedi careering around like younglings.

Skidding around a corner, you catch sight of the longest of Kit's tendrils just disappearing down the corridor. Maker, either he's gotten faster since you last raced, or you're getting slower. Determined to catch up, you put on a burst of speed and run after him, dodging past a droid and darting left, smiling to yourself as you tumble down an old set of stairs.

It's your secret shortcut - one you found quite recently, when a youngling knocked your lightsaber from your belt. You'd accidentally activated an old door and found the stairwell when you went to scoop your trustworthy weapon off the ground, which turned out to be a direct passage to what must have been some old chamber but is now you and Kit's playground - a massive room taken up with one thing and one thing only - a pool.

Shooting through another doorway, you shuck off your outer robes as you run, picking up speed across the tiled floor until you launch yourself into the air with a whoop. You land neatly in the water with barely a splash, bubbles rising around you in silver spheres as your gills open. Taking a moment underwater, you allow yourself to sink to the bottom, dragging your fingers along the bottom of the pool, letting the water muffle all the sounds above, letting it calm you and clear your mind.

With strong, practiced strokes, you swim back to the surface, shaking out your tendrils in a spray of glimmering droplets as you surface. Glancing around, you see that Kit hasn't arrived yet, and with a smirk, you drop below again, emptying your lungs of air so you sink like a stone. Once you hit the bottom, you cross your legs and sit there, on the pool floor, just waiting.

Barely moments later, you hear a muted splash and Kit appears just in front of you. His tendrils stream behind him, and the shock on his face is mirrored by the surprise in his pheromones at you presence. Devilishly, you grin, tilting your head and wagging a finger at him.

'Took you long enough, Fisto,' you say, throwing his words back at him. He huffs, swimming over to you. 'Teach me your secrets, sweet. How'd you slip past me?' You laugh. 'That's for me to know, and you to not find out.'

Getting your feet under you, you push them against the pool floor and shoot towards the surface, Kit not far behind. His head bursts up right next to yours, and you grin over at him, eyes dancing as he flicks water at you. He looks beautiful on land, but here, in his element, he's fucking stunning. Water traces down his ridges of muscle, dripping down his tendrils and slipping over his skin. A droplet lands in the space between his collar bones, and you have to clamp down hard on your pheromones before he senses how much you want to just dip your head and lick it off, to taste the sweet salt of his skin and hear his deep laugh.

'You still in there?' Your head snaps up. 'Why would I not be, Kit?' He narrows his eyes. 'What were you thinking about, sweet?' 'Nothing,' you say - too quickly. 'Mhmm,' he hums, but seems to let it go.

Dipping below your eye line, he disappears, and you feel the slight change in water current as he swims somewhere below you, before a strong hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you down. You laugh, hooking your leg around his neck, so his head rests in the crook of your knee. Spiralling down under the surface, you glance down and catch his eyes.

He looks up at you, and the expression on his face makes your heart ache. It's the awed gaze of a padawan to their master, yet also the wise gaze of a master to their padawan. It's sweet, sweet adoration, and yet beneath it, there's something deeper, something firey, something burning, his chin resting against your skin, his tendrils floating around him like a halo, his lips still upturned in the traces of a smile. He's glorious.

If you were breathing air, you'd have choked. You've never caught him looking at you like that, never seen such pure emotion in his eyes. The galaxy seems to have stopped, seems to have fallen away around you, so it's only you and Kit, the water bridging the gap between you, joining you, surrounding you. Trance like, eyes locked on his, you reach down, tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone with your fingertips. Your pinky finger accidentally brushes one of his tendrils, and -

And suddenly all of the feelings he's emmitting subconsciously register in your brain, and the two of you crash into each other, hands roaming over warm skin as your limbs tangle, your bodies pressing together as if they were never separate. His lips taste like home, like the comforting gloom of the sea floor and the gentle press of water against your skin, like silver bubbles and luminescent waves.

There's only a few things that you can fathom right now: he loves you, he wants you, and you love him and want him too.

It's those things that stay in your mind. Not the infernal Jedi Code, not the war, not the Jedi Council, not the Republic, not the Senate, not the Separatists, not even the Sith - no, just Kit, just Kit and his hot mouth and his wandering hands as he kisses you, seven feet underwater.

And then he pulls back, the corners of his glorious mouth pulling into a grin as your hand trails down his abdomen and over the ridges of muscle, pausing when your fingertips to catch in his waistband. His obsidian eyes dance, a whirlpool of passion.

'Took us long enough, didn't it, sweet?'

#kit fisto #star wars #kit fisto x reader #nautolan #kit #fisto #clone wars #the clone wars #jedi #jedi master #jedi temple

[anatee]

INSUFFERABLE | General Hux x Reader | pt. 5

INSUFFERABLE | General Hux x Reader Smut. 18+. MINORS DNI. This is a direct continuation. I’m never getting tired of writing this.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Word count: 10.1K

Content warning: fem!reader x Hux; Force Awakens plot but everything happens a bit slower; soft Hux with feelings appears; a few curse words; smut: fingering, masturbation, vibrator use, semi-public smut, piv (unprotected)

"It's in a droid. A BB unit," Kylo said right after exitting the questioning.

"That would be right. I heard Dameron had a droid with him, but I didn't see it," Y/N replied.

"Well then. If it's on Jakku, we'll soon have it," Hux added.

"I leave that to you," Kylo grunted at him, then softened his voice just a notch to speak to the girl. "Y/N, I will need to talk to you soon."

"You know where to find me," she replied, earning an expression of utter disbelief from Hux. The moment Ren left, she looked at the General with a bit of annoyance.

"Oh, come on. It's better to be on his good side."

"If he's that interested in you all of sudden... It can't be good."

"Good thing I'm only interested in..." she began, then caught herself as a jerk of Hux's head reminded her there were Stormtroopers not far behind them. "I'll resume my duties at once, General," she added all of sudden, clearing her throat.

"You'd better."

She sent him one last smile before walking back to her station, and he gladly followed suit. They both came back to work as usual, but the day was just about to provide them with more surprises.

Dameron escaped with the help of one of the Stormtroopers, and other soldiers failed to retrieve the droid from Jakku. Both Hux and Kylo seemed furious because of it the former a bit less than the latter, but it was the General whose stress was to be relieved the very same day.

"Where are you headed, Lieutenant?" he asked Y/N sharply as he saw her standing up from her console he had been circling for the past few minutes so as not to miss her walking out.

It was hard for her to suppress a smile.

"To my quarters, sir. I have finished my shift."

"To your quarters?" he replied, approaching her with his hands on his back. "I don't think that's where you should be going."

"Where else then, General?"

His face was as stone cold as it could be, but she could tell he wanted to smile. He lowered his voice and spoke so quietly only she could hear him:

"You know the passwords. I'll join you in two hours, maybe less."

She bowed her head immediately. "Understood, sir."

Y/N was careful not to be seen when she was typing in the password to Hux's quarters. It was yet another piece of proof of how much he trusted her. On the other hand, he was still her superior and had the power to make her life miserable if he wanted, so maybe it wasn't really the only factor... But at the same time, nobody would let in someone into their private chambers without having at least some trust in them.

Y/N's own wardrobe was there as always, fully stocked, all the clothes inside fresh from the laundry. She got herself a black bathrobe and a towel, then went to the bathroom for a long-awaited shower.

Settling underneath the sheets on Hux's large bed was an indescribably comfortable feeling. Exhaustion finally took over; she didn't even know when she fell asleep, hugging the sheets as if they were a person.

Hux came back to his quarters even more than two hours later, overworked, exhausted and still upset because of Kylo, because of Dameron's escape, because of the betrayal of a Stormtrooper... All in all, the presence of the only person that could make him smile instantly was very much needed.

He was already in a better mood when he was typing in the password to his bedroom, knowing very well who was behind them. The door slid open and he entered immediately.

"So, what do you want for din..." He trailed off as he noticed the bed. Y/N was there, breathing steadily, looking as innocent as ever, although he knew she was not that pure.

A soft, genuine smile appeared on his face, an extremely rare one, since he didn't have to hide it from anyone. It was such a relief to see her there, so peaceful... So different from the life he experienced on a daily basis. She was his ray of light in the darkness of the war, and he could practically feel happiness fill him up as he watched her. Had he not met her, he would have never believed someone could give him this much joy.

Was this what love was?

He turned off all the lights in the bedroom so she could sleep peacefully, then almost tiptoed to the bathroom. He decided that there was nothing better to do than to settle himself next to her, especially since he had an inkling he would not be able to fall asleep too fast. It was always hard when nerves got to him, and that was definitely one of these nights when they did.

Having taken a shower, he climbed onto the bed as quietly as possible, then watched her for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. To him, she was beautiful, make-up on or not. He wanted to kiss her - it would be such a bliss, a perfect remedy to that awful day - but he did not wish to break her sleep, so he just watched her for a moment before grabbing his datapad. There were two, if not a few more things he wanted to order...

One hour later, Hux was still unable to sleep. His datapad was turned off, and so were all the lights in the room, leaving him staring at the ceiling with a soft buzz of electronics in the background.

He looked at Y/N's sleeping figure once again, barely able to make out her face features in the dark. He noticed her hair got to her face, and this time he could not stop himself; he had to move it away with all the affection he could muster, smiling as he did... And then he immediately regretted it, since the sudden touch caused her to stir awake.

"What's going on?" she asked, lifting her head slightly, eyelids hooded. "What... What time is it?"

He hated himself for waking her up, and was worried about her confusion. "Shhh. It's the middle of the night."

She rubbed her eye and looked at him, trying to figure out how she got to the place she was in. And then it clicked - she was supposed to wait for him...

"Kriff... I don't even know when I fell asleep, Armitage, I'm sorry..."

"Don't, don't worry," he insisted quietly.

"But... Is something happening?"

"No. You can sleep."

She fell silent for a moment, her brow furrowed as it was quite hard to think while still half-asleep.

"Then why... Why aren't you sleeping?"

He let out a small sigh. "I have trouble sleeping. A lot. But you sleep, I'll just..."

"How can I help you?" she asked immediately, catching him off guard. He didn't expect her to be this ready to act, especially given the circumstances.

"You're already helping," he confessed. He quickly realised talking to her like this, in the darkness, was much easier than anywhere else... And he allowed himself to be a bit vulnerable. "Every time you're here with me, I... I feel calmer than I have ever felt in my life. And one needs... Calmness to sleep."

"Then why aren't you?" she kept on asking, and he sighed again, wondering how she even got him to talk about these things.

"I guess because... A part of me fears losing you. And because of that I'm stressed again and... The circle continues. If I have worse days..."

"So I'm not helping," she cut him off, then began searching for his hands, the sheets rustling softly with her movements. "Armitage, I'm not going anywhere. And if you want to talk, you can talk to me. Even right now."

"I don't, I just... I want..." He trailed off as he didn't even know exactly what he wanted. Maybe just some assurance that she was there, real, and will continue to be? Maybe some hope that with time this relationship will only get better, even if there were so many obstacles? Maybe someone to tell him if what he was feeling was really love? And, if so, how to express it openly?

"What is it?" she asked in a whisper, moving closer to him. "I won't judge you whatever it is."

At that moment, he trusted his instincts, and allowed himself to wish for something he had been dreaming for the last few hours.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to encourage her any further. She brought her hands to his face and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, one that clearly wasn't enough, because he quickly pulled her in for one more. It quickly turned out kisses exchanged like this, in complete darkness, with the rest of the universe gone, felt more intimate and touching than ever before. He could practically feel the tension evaporate as she snuggled into his side after few more kisses.

"If that was what you wanted, you could've woken me up sooner." She giggled and this sound alone allowed him to bathe in bliss. "But I understand you. I do have fears and doubts, too..."

"What fears?" he asked immediately with clear concern in his voice.

"I do fear you might... Change your mind one day." She sighed, her voice trembling slightly. "It's not that I don't trust you, but... Come on, you could have any woman in this galaxy with the power you have... So why me?"

Hux almost could feel his heart break at these words. How come she still had doubts?

And then, on the other hand... He also had them, so how to blame her...

But still, he was determined to show her that he will not be choosing any other woman. He couldn't even imagine one being half as perfect for him as she was...

"Don't ever say that, don't even think that I'm interested in any other woman," he whispered. "I've already told you this, but... You're really my cure, Y/N," he muttered the bravest confession he was capable of at the moment, and she accepted it. She didn't go into any further detail; her heart beating faster was all she needed to believe him at that moment.

"And you're mine," she whispered back, then snuggled into his side with one hand over his body. "If I stay like this... Would it be at least a bit easier to sleep?"

He took a deep breath. "You know the answer."

After that, he brought her even closer to himself, adjusting the duvet. "One day, when we'll be ruling the galaxy... You'll be at my side for everyone to see. Not hidden in here like this."

She smiled, and with that smile, fell into a peaceful slumber.

The next day, however, forced them to part again. The mission was not finished; Dameron escaped, and the First Order still didn't have the droid with the map they desired... Or at least Kylo did.

It was yet another day of work and trying not to look at the other, a game that was slowly driving them both insane, yet arousing them at the same time. The longing and the secret did make that relationship more interesting...

That evening Y/N went to her quarters for safety, but she did not it was going to be a usual one. There, on her bed, was a sealed box she did not remember being there in the morning.

"A gift?" she asked herself, plopping down onto the bed next to it. "Come on, Armitage... Is it you? Are you spoiling me again?"

She tried to unlock it with his password, and bingo. It was a confirmation that it was him who sent this, making her heart race.

She quickly noticed there were some clothes inside. Excited, she took them out to realise it was a dress... A very revealing dress.

"Oh, but this is..." She stood up and held it in front of herself.

The upper part of the dress was technically just a push-up bra. It was made of black and grey stripes, and they connected it with the skirt, two long pieces of black material covering only the front and the back - she could already see her hips would stay uncovered.

Back in the box, there was a message left.

I would love to see you in this.

And she would love to wear it for him, but it was not like she could put it on and just march into his quarters.

But...

She did know all his quarters passwords. She could just sneak into his bedroom while he was busy and wait for him there... She only needed a perfect occasion.

And the occasion presented itself when they landed on Starkiller. Y/N took just a few minute long bathroom break and when she came out, everyone at the base was running, rushing somewhere, most soldiers were throwing on their coats... In that chaos, she found Malia, and she explained to her what was going on.

The weapon was being finally charged and Hux wanted everyone outside.

What a breathtaking view it was, when minutes later she stood next to the other officers, and Hux was a few meters ahead of them, speaking to crowds of Stormtroopers and other soldiers.

"Today is the end of the Republic," Hux began, his voice seemingly echoing against the entire planet. "The end of a regime that acquiesces to disorder."

His voice was firm and frightening, even more so when one remembered he had the most deadly weapon in the galaxy at his disposal.

"I sometimes forget how scary Hux can get," Marlen whispered, leaning in so Y/N could hear him. She swallowed, nodding her head.

To her, his words were inspiring and arousing at the same time. She loved his commanding side, both in work and in bed, especially when she knew she would not suffer any negative consequences. Listening to him, she felt extremely proud; she knew how much it meant to him, how much time he spent on perfecting it and that it could bring him one step closer to conquering the galaxy just like he dreamed.

"He's really into it, isn't he?" Malia whispered as Hux continued, causing both herself and Marlen to chuckle. Y/N shot them an irritated look.

"He's just passionate about it," she said, then swallowed, realising she might have revealed too much. "As we all should be."

They looked at Y/N weirdly, but she rescued herself once again.

"What? This is why I'm a Lieutenant and you are not." She smiled proudly, then focused on listening to Hux again.

"All remaining systems will bow to the First Order!" Hux roared out and Y/N saw some officers take a step back out of intimidation. "And will remember this... As the last day of the Republic!"

Y/N got goosebumps and, judging by the looks on others' faces, she was not the only one. She never heard Hux speak with as much passion and power as at that moment. Stars, how was it possible to get even more attracted to him? And in a situation when she should be frightened?

"Fire!" The General roared and soon, the sky turned red. An enormous, red laser beam shot out of the planet, with so much power the wind it created caused all the nearby trees to collapse.

Hux was looking at it all with pride, and almost with tears in his eyes. It was the most successful moment of his military career, happening for the entire galaxy to see. His weapon, his big plan was being carried out... Could he be any happier?

And then he realised he could. A few meters behind him, there was the woman he adored just as much as the military. He wished she were at his side at that moment, watching the beauty of destruction with him as he watched hers...

He could not lose this opportunity, not when it was so special. Ren was on the ship, so nobody could read his thoughts... And no subordinate could question him.

He turned his head to the side. "Lieutenant Y/L/N."

"Yes, sir," she replied, breathless as she watched him bathed in the red light.

"Come here."

Nobody batted an eye at his command, not when almost everyone found him more frightening than ever before at the moment. Y/N approached him, pretending to be scared as well, then stood at his side - just like he wished.

"How can I help you, General?" she asked, but the answer was there, in his eyes. He did not dare smile at her in front of all the soldiers, and it took every ounce of willpower in him not to wrap his hand around her waist. One way or another, it was already brave for him to call her with everyone to see.

"Watch," he said simply, and she suppressed a smile as she turned towards the laser again.

He bathed in the bliss of the moment with her next to him before he had to send her away again, pretending he merely gave her an order.

They both felt they needed and wanted more. It was such a pity they could barely look at each other... That was why Y/N decided it would be best to do it that night, the night of his triumph.

She was sneaking into his quarters. Without his permission.

This could go both perfectly or completely wrong, but she hoped that even if he didn't want her company that night, he would at least appreciate the dress. She packed back into the box she received it in, and then, right after her shift, she quickly went into her quarters to grab it and then begin her plan.

Judging by what Hux was doing, she guessed she had at least one hour before he would come back to his bedroom. It was only a rough estimate and, of course, he could come much faster or much later, but she did decide to rush anyway. Her wardrobe was full of fresh supplies as always, so she took a quick shower, made sure her skin was as smooth as possible, untied her hair and brushed it, and then put on the dress.

Her breasts appeared to be bigger and so did her hips, completely uncovered. She did feel attractive in it, and quite excited about getting all dressed up for her lover, but still a bit worried about his reaction. After all, it was the first time she entered his quarters without any permission nor invitation, but on the other hand... He didn't give her his passwords for nothing, did he?

She decided that while she still had time, she'd try to put some make-up on, too. He loved it the last time she she dressed up, so why not do it again? After what he'd achieved, she decided he deserved the biggest prizes. As a mere soldier, she couldn't give him material things, or at least nothing he couldn't have at the snap of his fingers.

But herself...? He was the only one who could have her.

She was laying on his bed comfortably, all dressed up and scrolling through her datapad, waiting for him to come.

Hux didn't suspect a thing. He did intend to meet with her to celebrate, but not on that particular day, just to be safe. He knew that talking to her in front of everyone was already risky, but at the same time, she was a soldier like everyone else, just receiving duties. One way or another, when he was finally about to retire to his quarters after that glorious day, he did not expect to see what he saw.

The door to his bedroom opened right before his mouth. Y/N was sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling smugly. She looked stunning, and so different from her usual appearance, that for a moment he didn't recognise her at first glance. But when he did, it was difficult not to smile.

Could that day get any better?

"What are you doing here, Lieutenant?" he asked, as emotionless as he could be.

Y/N didn't get scared. She knew him already; everything was right there, in his eyes, and she felt she hit the jackpot.

"I came to congratulate you, General." She smiled again, straightening up so her chest would be even more visible. "And to carry out the duty you gave me... To see me in this, sir."

He closed the door, then walked slowly towards the wardrobe, taking off his gloves, his eyes never leaving her. She looked better than he had imagined and he couldn't even pretend to be mad at her for sneaking in. Stars, she could do that more often; he would certainly enjoy coming back to his quarters more.

"I can appreciate obeying my duties," he said, leaving his gloves on the wardrobe. He didn't have his coat nor his hat on, just the most basic uniform she adored him the most in.

"You're the ruler of the galaxy tonight," she continued, watching him unbuckle the belt around his waist. "That's why I want you to have a ruler-worthy celebration..."

She moved the piece of the skirt's material aside, then spread her legs, baring herself in front of him.

Hux's breath caught in his throat. Again, he didn't even scold her for having no underwear on as shivers went down his body. It would be a lie to say he had not been craving her ever since his speech, and there she was, inviting him in... And he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

He put his belt on the wardrobe, then turned to her fully. "Do I still have your permission to do new things?"

She restrained a squeal of excitement. "Yes... You can do whatever you want. Especially tonight."

It was the first time he allowed himself a smile, a smug one at that. He bent down to open a drawer and took out a black, shiny box out of it, causing Y/N to crane her neck as she tried to catch a glimpse of it.

"I do have something interesting I've been meaning to try out on you." He opened the box. "I was trying to find the suitable occasion... And look at you now." He smirked, indicating her still spread legs.

"What is it?" she asked with both curiosity and excitement as he took something out of the box. It was a black, egg-shaped device with a wire attached to it.

"Something to give you pleasure," he said smugly, approaching her slowly, "and pleasure only."

Before she could ask anything else, he turned on the device and pressed it against her clit before moving it down.

"Oh," she breathed out as he slid it inside her without much problem since she was already getting wet, kissing her lips in the process. "Oh."

"You look stunning," he whispered, stealing yet another kiss from her.

She beamed. "So I'm not getting discharged for sneaking in?"

"Oh, not discharged, but I can't leave that without a punishment." He took a step back. "You know this tiny little device," he slid his finger inside her, pushing it even further as she let out a gasp, "is connected to my datapad. So right now I can sit back..." He walked towards the armchair in front of the bed and picked up his datapad from it. "And enjoy the show."

She watched in shock as he sat down with pride, holding the datapad like a prize. She knew he now had complete control over her... But was that scary or exciting?

"You're unbelievable."

He chuckled, crossing his legs and solidifying his "ruler" aura. He did not expect to spend the evening that way, but stars, was that a much better plan than celebrating by himself.

"Oh, am I?" He raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you say I'm the ruler of the galaxy tonight?" He touched the datapad and slid his finger and it pulled a gasp out of her as the device began vibrating. It caught her by surprise, and even more when he turned it up.

"Fuck, Armitage," she breathed out, grabbing onto the sheets.

"What is it?" He laughed, watching her chest raise and fall quickly. "I've barely turned it on, love."

He had never called her this before and it worked wonders. At that point, she would give anything to hear it again, but the warmth and pleasure spreading from between her legs cut her off from any rational thinking. The fact that Armitage was watching all of this made her even more turned on.

When he noticed her cheeks got reddish, he decided it was a moment to go even further and turned up the power. Y/N's back fell against the mattress as she kept a tight grip on the sheets, curling her toes.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," she moaned as the vibrations became more intense. "A-Armitage..."

"Come on, this isn't even the highest setting... I know you can take more." He said, enjoying every second. "You're not innocent, are you, Lieutenant? You know what you came here for with no underwear on..."

She wasn't able to answer. Pleasure flowing through her, she writhed on the bed as he watched, his pants becoming tighter on him. He unzipped them to take out his erection, then began moving his hand along it. Never before had he masturbated to such a view, and never before had he felt this much arousal from the simplest movements.

He couldn't resist it. He turned on the highest setting, earning a moan so loud he was glad his quarters were soundproof. His breathing was growing faster as she arched her entire body, baring her throbbing clit before him.

Her breathing was growing faster and moaning louder; he sped up, too, but then suddenly turned everything off.

"No... How could you." Y/N propped herself up on her elbows, shooting him a disappointed look. "I was about to..."

"I'm not letting some vibrator take this from me," he rasped out, raising from his seat.

With shivers coming down her spine, she saw him approach with determination on his face. He pulled the vibrator out of her with a gasp, sending her wetness flowing down her thigh. He used one hand to grab raise her right leg and let her rest in on his shoulder, then did the same with the other. She soon felt his penis against her skin, and it caused her to gulp.

"I'll make sure you can't walk," he whispered before sliding into her with ease.

He began thrusting into her with more power than ever before, drunk on his success, his control, the triumph of the First Order... And she could only whimper and gasp for air in response as he hit all the right spots, filling her up completely.

His pace was growing rapidly, and he was ramming her into the mattress while the angle of her legs so high up drove them both crazy. She heard him grunt a few times and, as if all the other sensations weren't enough, it brought her to the edge.

He saw that, so he leaned it to kiss her before hearing the scream of her orgasm against his lips. He finished just seconds later, cumming inside her with pleasure, his fingers sinking into the skin of her legs. The pressure of the day evaporated at once, allowing both of them to bathe in complete bliss.

Hux left a chaste kiss on her cheek. She was panting and covered in sweat, her lipstick smudged and hairstyle ruined, but damn, was she happy. She gave him a sincere smile, which he returned before taking a step back to adore what he had created. The sight of his cum dripping out of her, onto the sheets, made him feel just as satisfied as when he watched the Starkiller weapon being fired.

"After that call you received..." she began breathing out, "and the handcuffs... I didn't know I could... Feel even better."

He smiled smugly, zipping his pants back. "Then do not underestimate me, Lieutenant."

"And that was a nice toy you gave me." She indicated the vibrator left next to her, sitting up. "I was never allowed that during my training..."

"I have a few more." He walked back to her, then put his hand under her chin. "But we'll get to them... Gradually." He kissed her again, this time allowing her to respond eagerly, throwing her hands around his neck.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered after they parted for breath, cupping his face in her hands. "Your speech... It was... I couldn't stop marvelling."

He raised an eyebrow. "Ass-licking?"

She smirked. "If you're in for round two."

He shook his head before stealing yet another kiss. "I wished you were standing there with me."

"Well, you kind of made it happen." She shrugged, then smiled teasingly. "I see you've become a little daredevil lately, Armitage."

He sighed, unable to disagree. "Look what you made me do."

She giggled, and he adored that giggle so much, the sound so innocent he had never thought he'd come to love it. He could only kiss her again, simply unable to break away from her that day. That was just the cure he needed...

"Well, we both need a shower." He looked down at between her legs, where the cum was still flowing down. "And my sheets need laundry. Again."

She shrugged as she looked down, too. "Maybe next time you'll prepare better..."

"Me?" He snorted. "You are the one who came here uninvited. And with no underwear on," he said as if he didn't enjoy every moment of it.

"Oh, I'm sorry, maybe I should uninvite myself now..." He grabbed her by the wrists before she could even try to slide off the bed. "And next time I'll come with a Stormtrooper armour on."

"Don't play with me, love."

She took a deep breath. "You call me that one more time and I'll be a puddle."

Hux let go of her wrists and stood up, smiling triumphantly as he glanced between her legs one more time.

"You already are."

He began walking towards the bathroom while she was considering whether to follow him. After all, it would be a shame to lose a shower with him, but on the other hand...

"I got all dressed up for you just to get my lipstick smudged and take this off after less than an hour?" She crossed her arms. "No way."

He turned his head towards her, then grabbed his datapad from where he left it and gave it to her.

"Then take this. Order whatever you want for dinner... I'll take a shower."

He picked up the vibrator, too, and disappeared in the bathroom, leaving her with a smile. She ordered dinner and then, finally able to breathe normally again, walked up to the wardrobe and took out a box of wipes and a towel to clean herself up - and a part of his bed, too. Freshened up, she almost didn't look like having been rammed into the mattress ten minutes earlier.

Less than another ten minutes later they were both sitting on his bed, beginning to eat dinner - Hux didn't mind eating there again since he was already going to send the sheets to the laundry. Besides, he didn't want some table or any other piece of furniture to keep him away from her. At that point he wasn't sure if she hadn't put any spell of him with how infatuated he was that day.

He was shirtless, just in loose, black pants. Not so long ago, he would have never bared himself like that, but with her? He could do anything, and he knew she wouldn't judge him.

"What?" she asked when she caught him staring at her instead of the food. "You like the dress, huh?" She pulled up the bra to make her breasts look better, and he did notice that.

"Of course I do. I've chosen it personally."

"I'm starting to think you chose it more for yourself than for me."

"The benefits go both ways." He smirked. "Besides, if you want anything at all, you just need to say the word. Do you want another dress?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant, Armitage. I don't want you to think I'm with you for the benefits," she said quickly, then reached for his hand. "I'm with you for you. I hope you know that."

Their eyes met. He believed just the words, but he could also see the sincerity in her eyes.

"I do." He squeezed her hand. "But at the same time, I have no problem in getting gifts for you. Who else am I supposed to give them to?"

Her heart began beating faster. She leaned in to kiss him again, with all the passion she could muster, what made him feel more than elated.

"Did I mention how proud of you I am?" she whispered against his lips. "And I already know how to make you feel even better. But let's eat first."

"You've already made me feel wonderful," he admitted, but she shook her head.

"Tonight we're celebrating your success. You're getting all the perks." She pecked him, then returned to eating. "Tell me all about it."

Hux was more than eager to do so, including telling her everything about his future plans, weapons, and technologies. She listened with sincere interest, and that was really everything he needed. Someone who cared, who listened, and who supported him regardless of any doubts or weak points his plans might have.

After they finished dinner, Y/N told him to lie down comfortably on the bed. She then found her good, old friend - a scented oil - and proceeded to settle herself on his thighs to gave him the best massage she could.

She was good at it, he already knew that, but at that moment her skills didn't matter. It was just her touch, firm and gentle at the same time, making his whole body burn with pleasure. Her hands were sliding along his skin with passion and for that moment of bliss, he truly felt like the king of the entire galaxy. He was about to comment how she began grinding her body - still with no underwear on - against him, when she suddenly stopped doing anything. Before he could ask what was happening, she laid her body against his warm, bare back and hugged him.

It was pleasurable, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next. Y/N stayed like this for a moment before whispering:

"Armitage... I love you."

He froze. He was glad she could not see his face, for his expression was nothing but pure shock. Indescribable were the emotions flowing through him: the surprise, the happiness, but also sadness... It was the first time someone has ever said that to him, and he never knew how incredible it could feel. Something got stuck in his throat as he tried to comprehend that someone cared about him this much. Someone he cared deeply for, too, but didn't have enough courage to express it openly.

So this is what love is.

"I've never heard that... In my life," he replied eventually, having no idea what to reply.

"I... You know I've been falling for you for a while. But now... Now I'm sure of it. That's why I'm telling you. And if I ever lost you..."

"Don't say that, Y/N." He raised slightly, causing her to move. She climbed off of him as he pulled her into his arms.

"You are not going to lose me. I am not leaving you, did I say that?" He cupped her face and noticed she was on the verge of tears; it pulled at his heartstrings, and that was another new sensation for him.

"I'm just..." She swallowed. "After success often comes a failure. Today, when I saw you leading all of us, I realised how much is at stake... I realised I'm afraid all of this is too good to be true. And I love you. With all I have. I don't want to lose any of it."

"You won't lose it, I promise. Y/N," he turned her to look at him, to make sure she understood every word, "I know I don't say much about things like this, but..."

He froze, his eyes fixed on her. He was such a coward; he indirectly murdered thousands, if not more beings that day, but he was unable to confess his true feelings to the only person he cared about. But at that moment, he promised himself he would tell her.

Soon. In best circumstances, like she deserved. It was high time she got some confirmation of his their relationship... But not at that moment, because he himself was too paralysed.

"You're the most important person to me," he admitted eventually. "Or probably the only important person I have in my life. I do not care about anyone else. And you have my word," he grabbed her hand, then brought it to his lips to kiss it, "we'll be safe. You and I."

"Thank you," she whispered, holding back tears. He wiped them with his thumbs before going in for a kiss; a sincere kiss full of love that he did not confess to her. Y/N did feel a little sting of disappointment after not hearing him say it back, but at the same time, she knew it was something new for him.

"Come," he kissed her on the forehead, "I'll throw the sheets to the laundry, take new ones, and we can both go to sleep."

"But what about the celebration? And your massage? And..."

"We both had enough emotions for today," he cut her off, just before giving her one more kiss to make sure she felt better.

While both of them were preparing to sleep, the General's sheets landed in the room where two Stormtroopers sorted the laundry. They were both without their helmets, groaning at the sight of new work.

"Not again," the first one, a blonde guy, shook his head.

"What is it?" the other, a redhead, asked him.

"Hux's sheets," the blonde replied.

"How do you know they're his?"

"Because they're large. And he sends them here too often, clean freak," he explained, then snorted. "And they're stained again."

The red-headed Stromtrooper approached to investigate, curious. He looked at the sheets and his eyes widened.

"Isn't this... Cum?" he asked in shocked, but the other seemed unbothered.

"You're new here, but this is not for the first time. He must be getting it recently. It's never happened before."

"But with whom?" The other wondered. "Because I don't think he would stain it this much if he were alone... Prostitutes maybe?"

"Maybe, although I doubt he would allow one on the Starkiller..."

"Then maybe it's one of the female soldiers! We gotta find out who that is. Maybe Phasma?!"

"No, that would be..." Their eyes met. " You know what, we have to find out."

Y/N spent the night in her lover's arms. Without a direct confession from him, but still happy and secure, she woke up with a disappointment when she realised he wasn't there. To her relief, she found him in front of the bed, buttoning his shirt up.

She beamed, stretching like a cat when he noticed her, and a little smile crawled upon his face, too.

"Well, good morning. How did you sleep?"

"I always sleep well with you. And on this bed, for that matter," she replied with no hesitation, rubbing her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I have to start earlier today. Ren is already fuming," he said, making sure his belt was adjusted well. "He is looking for some scavenger girl now. Apparently the droid showed the map to her."

Y/N groaned, sitting up. "So what? Why can't Kylo just find her and take it out of her mind like he always does? We have allies throughout the galaxy, she can't hide for long."

Hux sighed, looking just as resigned. "You tell me."

"Wait, I'll go with you." Y/N jumped off of the bed, then walked up to him to fix the hair he didn't have the time to style yet. She loved it when if was this messy, with no gel or anything else in it yet.

"You can stay here today if you want to," he blurted out, but it was an instinct. He couldn't stop thinking about her confession, knowing that right now, he was really ready to do anything for her... Even at the expense of his power.

"No, no. I bet Kylo will want to see me for some reason, too. I have duties."

"I would like to remind you I am the one who gives you duties," he said matter-of-factly. "Well... But I do have an idea how to make that day a bit more exciting for both of us."

She knew his ideas already, that's why her eyes lit up. "What are you suggesting?"

He smiled mischievously, then walked towards her wardrobe. He took out the same device from the night before, one he cleaned himself, then held it out on his palm in front of her.

"Why don't you take this again... And I'll control it. Let's see how long you'll last."

She snorted. "You think I can't last all day without any big reaction to it?"

He smirked, almost laughing. "Judging by your reactions from yesterday, yes, that's what I think."

Damn it. He had a point, but she didn't want to give up that easily. She could do it...

"I bet I can."

"Then we bet," he said firmly, offering her his free hand. "If you win, I will get you a gift. If I win, you will get a punishment. A real one, I promise you that."

"Deal, Hux," she replied, shaking his hand as he raised his eyebrows.

"Hux? Now that's not the way to talk to your superior." He pulled her by the hand to make their faces be even closer to each other. "Oh, and no touching yourself."

"You wouldn't even know if I did."

"Is that so?" He leaned in to whisper into her ear. "I have eyes everywhere on this base. Do not try it or I will take it as a walk-over win."

Hairs stood on her entire body when she heard that. Kriff, he was the only man with the ability to make her aroused with mere words.

He passed her the vibrator, then came back to armchair where his gloves were and began putting them on.

She watched his hands closely. They were large and as clean as they could be, and many of his veins were showing as he adjusted the first glove he put on. He took the leather between his fingers and pulled slightly, and that movement made her swallow. Then he put on the second glove ever so swiftly, leaving just a bit of a gap between the leather and his uniform for his wrist.

She had never focused on someone's hands this much, but they were captivating. It was like almost every time she looked at him she found something new to be attracted to. Now, more than ever, she longed for his hands on her. Anywhere he wanted.

She decided to take a risk, even if they were scrapped for time.

"Can you... Use your hands?"

He looked up at her with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"On me." She swallowed hard, feeling pierced by his gaze. "Anywhere."

He seemed both surprised and intrigued because of her boldness, but he didn't mind it one bit.

"Now?"

She shrugged, swallowing hard again.

"Not my fault you put these gloves on... Like this."

A smirk appeared on his face, and he seemed eager to make her request come true, but he stopped himself at the last minute. Instead, he walked up to her a little too close, then put his hand under her chin.

"Let's say... If you win our little bet, I'll make sure to use my hands everywhere."

She felt shivers down her spine. There was truly lust in his eyes, the kind of she had never seen before in him. It seemed like something switched in him, making him desire her even more.

"And if I lose?" she asked in a high-pitched voice.

"I don't know. Maybe you'll have to beg for it."

This was enough to keep her heart racing. She didn't even ask about anything else; but at that point, she only knew she craved him even more.

"Now," he indicated the vibrator, "should we put this in place?"

She found her opportunity to force him to at least touch her in some way. She shoved the vibrator back into his hand and then plopped down onto the bed before spreading her legs. She lifted the material of the black nightgown, showing him nothing but her naked body underneath.

"Please do."

He couldn't deny her, and she knew that. He cleared his throat as if it didn't have any effect on him, but when he bent to put the vibrator next to her clit, a visible shiver went through him.

He did have little time, but could not waste the opportunity. He turned on the vibrator, catching her by surprise as she gasped.

"Oh, kriff!"

"I'll let that slide... Because it's not truly in yet." He smirked, clearly satisfied with her reaction. "I can't put it in with no preparation, can I?"

"If you keep it there..." She panted as he kept the vibrator on her clit, making her tremble. "I might come as we speak..."

"Well, why not?" He smiled smugly, enjoying the view a bit more than he should. He could get addicted to starting his mornings this way.

"Armitage..." She was breathing heavily, her nails digging into the sheets. "Oh, this feels so..."

Her toes curled, and he quickly noticed she was already wet. With that, he swiftly pushed the vibrator inside her, earning another moan.

"Oh... Oh, fuck..."

"It's on the lowest setting," he smirked as she adjusted the device between her legs, still panting. He picked up his datapad and turned off the vibrator. "If that's how you react to the lowest level, I don't see a victory for you..."

"I wasn't prepared," she argued. "But now I am."

She stood up and walked slowly - so as not to lose the vibrator - towards her wardrobe to find fresh underwear. Soon, she was in her uniform and ready to leave as well.

"No touching."

"Don't worry about tha... Fuck!" she screamed suddenly when he grabbed the datapad again, turning the vibrator back on.

"And no swearing on duty." He grabbed her by the collar playfully, making her open her mouth in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable."

"And you're insufferable," he replied as if it were obvious. "We're tied."

When she was sitting down by a console that day, she knew he would be on his watch all the time. She also realised she could anticipate his little device coming to life at any given moment, and she kept on reminding herself to stay alert.

For the first hour, absolutely nothing happened. Hux was nowhere to be seen and for a moment, she was so focused on her work she almost forgot about the device inside her.

And then she leaned towards the soldier on her right, Fando, just to hear his question better.

"Are you checking the last supply delivery?" he asked her and she nodded.

"Yes, I am... Oh...!" She gasped and her whole body tensed up as she felt the vibrator come to life. And it felt so good, but she wasn't allowed to react...

Fando raised an eyebrow at her sudden reaction.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry." She cleared her throat, keeping her legs together as the device kept vibrating. "I am checking the delivery, yeah..." She breathed heavily, making Fando even more confused.

"Could you check if they delivered the new blasters? General Hux sent in a request."

That little bastard... Y/N thought to herself, realising it was Hux himself who arranged this entire situation. She couldn't see him anywhere near, but she knew he was watching one way or another... So she had to compose herself.

"Yes, just give me a moment..." She turned back to her screen, clearing her throat.

She began looking for the "blasters" position in the delivery logs, slowly getting used to the burning in her abdomen...

And then, suddenly, the intensity began growing. She didn't control it as she bent slightly, feeling more and more wetness in between her legs.

"You're... You're sure you're okay?" Fando asked again, seeing her bite her lip in order not to react. "Maybe I should call a medic?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She coughed, her eyes still focused on the screen. "Just some training soreness."

She was doing all in her might not to buckle her hips as she searched for the logs. Finally, she found them, and turned to Fando with her cheeks flushed...

And suddenly, the vibrator stopped, leaving her with both relief and disappointment at the same time. She took a deep breath, adrenaline still pulsing in her veins.

"Yes, the blasters were delivered," she said to Fando, "I will send the information to the General."

"Thank you." Fando nodded before turning back to his work.

Y/N indeed opened the communication channel to send a message to Hux, but it certainly wasn't about the delivery.

Blasters my ass.

Hux couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he read that message on his datapad. He was in a different part of the base, but he could watch all the security cameras from his datapad, and he thoroughly enjoyed the little show she gave him just moments before. She didn't quite break, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He was enjoying this game more than he could say.

Is that an official message, Lieutenant Y/L/N? No swearing on duty.

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the message, taking a deep breath. He was unbelievable, but hell, wasn't that a part of why she fell for him? He never let her stay bored...

Officially, new blasters have been delivered, sir. Unofficially, you are unbelievable, bastard.

Hux had to stop himself from smiling among his soldiers as he read that message. The things this girl made him feel were among emotions he never thought he was capable of experiencing. Never had he ever been this happy.

I am expecting the best performance from you today, Lieutenant.

The double meaning was very clear in this message. She sighed then got back to her work, knowing that it was just the beginning.

For more than an hour, everything was calm... Until Y/N met Malia and they were walking together for a dinner break. They barely sat down at the table when the vibrator came to life again. It was so sudden Y/N let out a gasp, one that caught Malia off guard.

"What?" Malia glanced behind herself. "What did you see?"

"Nothing." Y/N gulped. "Just felt some soreness from the training..." Her voice faltered slightly as the intensity of the vibrations increased. This time, to her already soaked clit, it was much more pleasurable than before... And she was afraid the vibrator will soon slide out, considering how wet she was.

Just for a second, she rocked her hips to move along with the vibrator, pretending to adjust her sitting position... And Maker, it felt so good, but she didn't dare put her hand anywhere near between her legs. She knew Armitage was watching, and she wasn't about to let him just win their little bet.

"You were training again?"

"Yeah," Y/N said breathily, pulling the tray with her dinner in front of herself as the vibrator didn't stop. "Gotta stay sharp, huh?"

She was suppressing any kind of reaction she could, but she couldn't help the blood that was rushing to her cheeks. She wasn't, however, quite sure whether she would be able to eat without choking on anything.

Suddenly, the vibrations stopped completely, and she smiled to herself. She wondered if Hux did it because he could see she wasn't reacting in any way, and so she began eating freely, chatting with Malia as she went. Little did she know it was just calm before the storm...

The real torture began just minutes later. The vibrator came back to life on the highest setting for a few seconds, stopped for a few more, and then again, and the cycle kept on repeating itself, driving her insane.

Her body was begging for a release as waves of pleasures kept on coming and disappearing just as quickly. Armitage knew exactly what he was doing, and his knowledge of her needs was shocking yet exciting at the same time. Every time she thought she would get that final moment of bliss, he stopped, almost as if he could sense her emotions through the cameras.

She was cursing him in his mind and, at the same time, fantasizing about going back to his quarters and letting him watch her again as she writhed and whimpered on the bed. The thought itself turned her on greatly, but was she going to get what she wanted if she lost the bet...? She knew he would do exactly the opposite of that, to drive her crazy.

Hence, no matter how pleasurable it was, no matter how much her clit was pulsing and aching, she focused on talking to Malia, not allowing to give him any satisfaction.

The tortures came back a few more times that day, but despite everything, Y/N didn't break except for a few gasps and sudden bends of her body. By the end of the day, her clit was completely soaked and swollen, her body overwhelmed with need for a release... But the bet was hers.

It was already late when she was beginning to gather her things from her console, preparing it for the soldier that was about to come for the next shift... When she felt someone's presence right behind her.

"My office. Immediately."

Hux's voice was harsh and cold, making a few of the nearby soldiers glance at Y/N with worry. They all scattered, pretending to be busy with just about anything before his visible rage could reach them.

Y/N, on the other hand, had to stop herself from smiling. She wondered whether his anger was just for show or because he was genuinely mad he didn't manage to win.

"Yes, General," she replied, staying emotionless, and then followed him into his office.

The moment the door closed behind them, Armitage made sure to lock it before walking to his desk. His gaze was still cold as the ice outside when he looked into her eyes, but she didn't bat an eye.

"What?" She crossed her arms, smirking at him. "Mad you didn't win, General?"

He took a deep breath. "Onto the desk."

His tone was still harsh, catching her off guard, but at the same time... She enjoyed it when he had the upper hand.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case... Of course, sir."

She sat on his desk, waiting for what's to come as anticipation rose inside her.

"On all fours."

Another order took her by surprise, but she obeyed, feeling more and more excited by the minute. He meant business as she saw true authority in his eyes, one she knew best from the time they weren't close... He approached her from behind, then began slowly unbuckling her belt.

"You're saying I lost? I do have your reactions recorded... And there certainly are some..."

"It's not like I could not react at all... When you turned it on unexpectedly."

"Oh, but wasn't that part of the deal?" He smirked as he slowly began pulling her pants down.

She sighed. "I kept composure."

"But you did rock your hips a few times. I've seen it."

She just groaned in response. She didn't expect him to notice that... But he must have been watching her much more closely than she thought.

"I still think I win," she said eventually.

"And I think I win."

She let out a sigh. "And what now? A tie? Because there is no one who could judge..."

"Now, Lieutenant..." He quickly pulled down her panties, then easily pulled the vibrator out of her right with a sigh. "We'll take care of your little problem here... Tsk, staining the uniform on duty..."

"You snake..."

He smirked again. "I believe my title is the General."

He took off his gloves, then ran his fingers along her swollen clit, earning a gasp out of her. At that point, she was so sensitive any type of touch was lethal, and he knew that all too well.

"Sensitive, are we?" he asked, clearly enjoying the entire ordeal. The view itself made him feel hotter; he never had the chance to take such a thorough look... The lust was slowly beginning to devour him.

"Guess whose fault is this..."

"I'll tell you the truth, Y/N," Hux began, speaking slightly quieter than before as he walked back to face her. "All day I couldn't stop thinking... About what you said in the morning."

"Hm?"

"About you wanting me..." his tone became hushed "...to use my hands on you."

A shiver went down her spine as he said that, making her feel even more excited than before.

She swallowed hard. "And...?"

"And fuck the bet," he said firmly, stunning her as he leaned in to whisper into her ear. "I am going to use my hands on you right here and right now."

Before she could take in what he actually meant, he was behind her again, and his two fingers were sliding in with no warning. It was almost too easy...

He gave her no time to breath before beginning to pump fingers in and out with as much force as he could muster. She began panting slightly, grabbing the edges of the polished desk, but Hux was nowhere near done. He used his other hand to rub her clit, quickly making her lose her balance.

"Oh, fuck...!" she hissed and he didn't even scold her, too focused on his handiwork. He found himself getting aroused just by the view, just by her little pants and moans, and that day, he was impatient.

With no warning, he grabbed her hips firmly and then made her stand on the floor as she kept her hands on the desk. She didn't even ask what he was doing - she only smiled as she heard him unbuckle his belt right behind her.

He slid it easily, then began moving with more power than he ever had. He was pounding into her, not restraining himself at all as she held onto the desk for dear life. It was like a fury, like he became another person filled with some animalistic kind of desire, and she gasped in a bit of pain when his fingers dug into her hips with so much strength she was sure he would leave marks on her. But she did not complain; after this long day of waiting, she was glad he did not suppress himself one bit.

They reached their bliss together, grunting and moaning as she got the release she had wished for... And somehow felt he needed it just as much.

He pulled out and Y/N turned to face him, panting but smiling as his cum began slowly dripping down her body. There was a clear expression of relief on his face, but she could see he did not lose his harsh demeanour from before.

"Why do I feel like you... Fucked out... Just a bit of your anger?" she asked between heavy breaths, studying his face curiously.

"It's Ren," he hissed in response, breathing heavily, his eyes still burning with rage.

"Just as I figured." She chuckled, then gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "But if that's how it ends... Then I might ask him to make you mad more often."

"You liked it?" he asked as he pulled his pants back on with a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Yeah... Why?"

He leaned in, lowering his voice as he spoke into her ear. "Because next time... I want to try it even rougher with you... If you're up for it."

#hux #general hux #first order #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #armitage #armitage hux #armitage hux smut #general hux smut #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars sequels #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #star wars smut #kylo ren

[awritesthings1]

How to Disappear (Epilogue)

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Anakin says goodbye to you on Naboo.

ao3 link

-

Anakin never thought he would have to bury another body.

Yet here he was, on Naboo, staring at the foot of a white marble statue beside the lake where he had found you. It was of a woman posing with her hands laced at her stomach, gazing mournfully in the distance. She stood at least a few feet taller than him and didn’t seem bothered by his presence. He wondered how long she stood there. By the discoloration, cracks, and vines that snaked around her body, he assumed a while.

Anakin liked that about statues; they never died. They remained frozen in time, unable to leave, unable to understand, and immortalized into precious stone. Maybe that was what charmed him about Naboo. Life is vividly captured in its foundations, unlike Tatooine, where it drained like grains of sand down the dunes, or Coruscant, where the sun only reached the towering skyscrapers.

Green fields speckled with unusually colorful flowers painted the hills of Naboo. Not one leaf, twig, or rock felt out of place. The warmth on his skin is welcomed, and the dark robe he usually wore is forgotten in the cockpit of the small ship he had stolen on that fateful night.

The halls of the Imperial Palace follow him in his dreams. Marble pillars line that never-ending rug, which reached in either direction with no end in sight. This dream isn’t like any other he had. No amount of pinching or prodding is enough to keep them at bay. The bloody shoe prints return, staining the never-ending rug, and the hairs on Anakin’s neck shiver violently. The sharp tug of a taut string vibrates in his ear; it’s the blood rushing to his face. You call his name from somewhere far away. And then, and only then, will he wake up in a sweat.

In a strange way, he haunted that place as much as you did.

But here, on Naboo, there was life. Life lived on, and so he would too, even if you weren’t here to experience it with him. Which is why he chose to bury you here, at the foot of a Nabooian statue, to protect you wherever you were. It helped that the statue looked somewhat like you. If he really wanted to, he could close his eyes and imagine that the shadow cast on his face was you. Maybe he would fall for the ruse, but ultimately, no matter how hard he tried, he would open his eyes, and the stone-cold woman would still be staring off into the distance.

His shoulders fall.

Anakin never found your body. After Palpatine’s death, he left half alive, stumbling through the halls of Coruscant, shivering with a throbbing headache and a gaping hole in his stomach. The only evidence he had been there were the bloody footprints after he limped through the pool of Palpatine’s blood and down the never-ending rug that he sees in his dreams. He stole a small ship to escape—the smallest one he could find—while bleeding out in order to make his departure as discreet as possible. The next days were a fever dream, where he relied on his botched memory of Obi-Wan teaching him how to administer first aid to himself. He had only been a Padawan then, and he thought Obi-Wan was only trying to waste his time because why would Anakin need to learn something so trivial when there were always medical droids and ships nearby?

Weeks passed until Anakin could stand without the feeling of fainting or the urge to vomit. He had been extremely lucky to survive the attack and have half a mind to set his new cramped ship to autopilot before he lost too much blood. It was when he was starting to come around that he grabbed his dark robe, which had been tossed aside carelessly, and found your lightsaber buried in the pocket. He cried that night and popped a few stitches from his effort.

Anakin returned to the Imperial Palace when his wound was healed enough. He planned to recover your body so he could bury it on Naboo with your mother. But when his small ship rattled into the Coruscanti atmosphere, all that was left of the Imperial Palace were ashes. Rioters and rebels alike mobbed the place, trashing the ancient marble foundations and setting fire to the remains of the Empire, taking what was left of you with it.

So he figured if he couldn’t bury your body, he would do the next best thing and bury your lightsaber at the foot of the marble statue on your home planet. Anakin didn’t necessarily believe in trivial things like an afterlife. Neither the Jedi nor the Sith believed in it. But he would be damned if he didn’t honor you in some way. Later, he would try to find your mother so he could give her the respect she deserved in her death since he never gave it to her that day when she was alive.

On Naboo, the wind whistled through the trees and water lapped at the sandy shores, but Anakin could not hear a thing. The silence, he realized, was his own. A great, big, loud silence deafened the rustling of leaves and the howling air.

The thundering rhythm of his heart beat inside his chest, roaring into his ears. The more he listened to it, the louder it grew. Live, live, live, it told him. But how could he, when his heart was trapped in a prison others call a ribcage and its true home belonged to a body that was lost in the ashes of Coruscant?

When the ringing in Anakin’s ears settled, he heard the crunch of a twig behind him. He must really have gone mad, he thought to himself, because his gut twisted in an eager way as if somehow your ghost would be approaching him. He could feel it now, your hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder, squeezing it in that reassuring way that was so uniquely you. As if you had the power to fight away all his monsters with one gentle action.

And it all came down to one thing: Anakin couldn’t move on. Even during his time as Vader, he haunted the remains of the Jedi Temple as a clothed, dark figure—a ghost of who he once was. And while he didn’t have a glowing blue figure, he floated through the halls as one, haunting the late hours of the night like one. Some people whispered his name as if he were one. Death followed him like that.

“Anakin.”

He could hear her voice whistle his name in the wind. If he weren’t straining his ears, he would have missed it like he missed most things in his life. Palpatine, you, even the Jedi Council. And how about those untold stories that unfolded behind closed doors, distant whispers, and Obi-Wans tired eyes? Flames consumed them when the Jedi Temple burned. The hungry fires would devour all those unsaid words, leaving behind ashes scattered across the galaxy. It would be fruitless to attempt to stitch those brittle grains back together.

The wind whistled again, beating violently at his robe that flapped in its path. There was that sound again, and that airy ghost that climbed his spine like a ladder. The wind was his new ghost.

The wind causes his robe to flap so violently that he mistakes the feeling for a hand on his shoulder. Of course, this was the wind’s new way of haunting him.

“Will you turn around?”

His blood runs cold. The weight on his shoulder was a hand made out of skin—the flesh and bone kind. It was too good to be true. It couldn't be.

The wind, his new ghost, strangled the air out of his windpipe, sucking all the oxygen out of his lungs for itself. Which was fine; Anakin didn’t have a use for his breath anyway. But suddenly you were standing before him as you did many years ago, and it took everything in him to not lunge forward and trap you in his arms out of fear that you might slip away.

“How?” Anakin felt like he was floating outside his own body.

“The Force?” You shrugged.

You stood in front of the white marble statue, facing him as if it were perfectly normal to rise from the dead and stand on the soil that was supposed to be your memorial. Anakin doesn’t understand it, and he never thinks he will.

“Do you remember that night I nearly died?”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrowed. No, Anakin wasn't there when you died. Palpatine told him that you crashed on your mission to the Outer Rim.

As if you could read his mind, you add, “no, the night I nearly died. When I was trapped in that cave with all those people?”

Anakin nods, still confused about how this was supposed to make any sense.

“I think I did die that night. I was bleeding out in that cave, and then the next thing I knew, I was at the top of a cliff, watching that village burn..." You trailed off. “But I wasn’t alone. I could feel the Force, it was there with me. I think the Force took half of me that day; I never felt whole after that.”

Anakin tried his best to listen, but he was too overwhelmed and had to fight the sickness that quelled in his stomach. “Then how are you here? Am I imagining you?”

Your hand reached to cup his jaw with a small smile.

“No,” you laughed, a buttery sound that melted his muscles. “What I meant was that I think I’ve been split between two worlds. The living and the dead. Half of me was with the Force, and the other half of me was with you.”

Anakin’s head was too full to process the information. All he could think of was you, you, you…

Your flushed cheeks burn against the back of his eyes in a hauntingly delightful way. He refused to blink until it was engraved in his mind.

Alive, alive, alive…

“I saw your body on Coruscant,” Anakin tried to breathe.

“I know…” You stepped closer, holding his head more firmly between both your hands. “I was—”

The look in his eyes stopped you. You could see frozen lakes beginning to crack under the pressure.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, pressing your forehead to his. “It’s all over now.”

You could feel Anakin’s heartbeat thundering against your chest, and with a shuddering realization, he could feel yours too.

Anakin licked his dry lips. "So... this is only half of you?” His arms held you firmly to his chest, afraid to let go.

“With you, Anakin?” You brushed the scar across his eye. “With you, I am whole.”

And after spending what felt like eons adrift in the Force and feverish nights spent fighting off nightmares, you closed the distance and pressed a kiss of life against his lips.

-

It took Anakin a month to tell you about your mother. Not that you ever asked him, but he knew he would have to break it to you eventually. You were cuddled against his bare chest with his metal arm draped comfortably around your waist when he told you.

The Nabooian wind that blew through the cottage window sent a shiver down your spine. Anakin had forgotten to close it the other night, being too absorbed in the summer heat of the countryside, only to forget how the temperature dropped once the sun sank beneath the horizon. It was a strange but welcome feeling to awaken like this, wrapped in his arms. Anakin had developed a summer tan and the habit of hogging the sheets, the latter of which you summed up being because he kept forgetting to shut the window.

It had been a month of this routine. Shiver, roll over, pry the sheets from Anakin’s grip, and snuggle into his body for warmth. Usually, you both stayed like this for a while until you begrudgingly retreated away from your nest to begin your day with the window still ajar. It was either the rattling of the plants at the open window or Anakin’s own tossing and turning that would rouse him.

Today, it was neither. It was your ice-cold nose poking into his collarbone and the tickle of your hair against his skin. He watched you sleep, slowly running his metal fingers up and down your arm as tenderly as he could. You shiver in response, and the hairs on your arm stand up.

Guilt consumes him immediately.

You were still fast asleep, but Anakin hated disturbing you in any shape or form. Which is why he lay there that morning staring up at the ceiling while ignoring the growls of his stomach. A month of selfish bliss he spent catching up on lost time. A month spent putting off all the ugly truths that would shatter their blanket of happiness.

Your mother was the largest shadow that hung over him. He knew he had to break the news eventually. Since living in Naboo with you, it would only be a matter of time before curiosity got the better of you and you went out in search of your mother. It burdened him greatly that he would have to be the one to break the news to you, but he supposed it would burden you more if he never told you.

The truth left his lips that morning while you were tangled with him in bed.

“I know.”

You said it so plainly that his blood ran cold.

“You knew?”

“Yes, I saw her when I was dead. We hugged and talked. She forgives you.”

Anakin inhaled sharply. Forgiveness was the last thing he deserved. His mouth opened to try to make sense of it, but he was at a loss for words. Your mother had no reason to forgive him. He wondered if you only said it to appease him before pushing away the thought, knowing you better than that. Anakin’s flesh hand grabbed one of yours, which was resting on his chest, giving it a squeeze.

“Do you forgive me?” Anakin’s voice was only a crack above a whisper.

You blinked up at him blankly, the same way you did when you were a Force ghost. It was somewhere between curious and confused.

In that moment, you saw him for all he is, for all his shades of blue refracting off him and into your light.

It was quiet, then:

“Yes.”

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #star wars #star wars anakin #hayden christensen #sw anakin #star wars fanfiction #clone wars anakin #anakin star wars #star wars x reader #darth vader x reader #darth vader #anakin angst #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine #anakin fanfic #anakin fic #anakin fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

[cinna-wanroll]

The Cold Around Us, the Fire Within

Hi everyone! I recently wrote this for the Cody Day fic exchange, if you would like to check it out. I’ll also put the full fic under the cut if you would prefer to read it here. @codyday2224

Here are the tags included:

Commander Cody does not flinch in the face of death. As blaster bolts glide by, as missiles fly, as the ground sparks flame, and fire begins to spread. When ribbons of red run down his forearm, his battle uniform torn, he is as steady as a wroshyr tree.

Under Cody's guiding hands, the 212th Battalion carves a path through an icy battlefield. The air is dry and biting, the grass brittle beneath his battle boots. Despite the weather, Cody is sweating from the heat radiating all around. Fires from explosives are pushing their ranks back, forcing them to flee the choking black smoke. The field of vision in his bucket narrows to the point where he takes it off and hooks it to his utility belt, in a place usually reserved for his general's lightsaber.

Someone calls from nearby, "Commander!"

Cody narrows his eyes, unable to trace the sound's direction. As he turns to seek out the voice, a detonator splits through the shadows, rolling to a stop a few feet away.

Cody runs, but not fast enough to avoid the blast radius. Weightlessness slows time down, showing him one last look of chaos.

Blaster bolts are the only interruption to the engulfing darkness, the shouts and cries of soldiers muffled. He fully expects to get up after he hits the ground. Fleetingly, he thinks that he should demand a different assault formation. But Cody isn't wearing his helmet, so when he lands on an icy block, there are no formations of which to think.

------

Consciousness is slow to return, starting in his fractured skull and spreading to his fingertips. Reality seems happy to supply him with all kinds of inconvenient awareness. For example, how much smoke he has inhaled from being out for, well, at least longer than ten minutes.

He pushes the sensation away and sits slowly, preparing to comm his general. Then he hears it– nothing. There is no roaring madness, only the dim rumble of fire.

Shit, fire.

Cody forces himself to his feet, which slip out from under him on the frozen ground. He falls on his ass hard, probably earning him a bruised tailbone along with– everything else.

The second time he gets up, he gains enough traction to stumble away from immediate danger.

After a few minutes of walking, he tries his comms, which fritzed during the explosion, it would seem.

He moves towards a mountain formation in the distance as twilight falls, adrenaline finally beginning to fade into tremors and chattering teeth. Then again, that may be the cold.

Even with his high metabolism, an unshakeable chill settles into his bones. He shudders bodily at a cave's entrance, slumping down on the stone floor. Sleep beckons him– mocks him.

Just a bit longer, it encourages, and he believes it. If you rest for just a bit longer, you can build a fire.

Before he can register what's happening, visions of the day's horrors plague him.

He is running to a brother, already dead in the shallow grass. He is lifting a droid above his head, prepared to throw it directly into the line of programmed fire. He is steadfast, and he is righteous. He is in pain. Pain that runs deeper than flesh, pain that finds him even as he sleeps.

"C-Cody," it requests of him.

He tries pushing it away, the sting it brings.

"Cody," it demands his attention now, dragging him away from blood spatter and flame. It shakes him awake suddenly.

"What," he asks, but his voice is so weak he barely recognizes it.

"Cody," it repeats in a Coruscanti accent.

His eyes fly open, and he sits up immediately, "General?"

Obi-Wan gazes down at him intently. His hands haven't moved from Cody's shoulders, and he's just– hovering above Cody, brows creased in worry. It is significantly darker now than he remembers, deep shadows creasing Kenobi's face.

"Commander, you know fleeing battle is a punishable offense."

Cody sighs, "Does it count if there was no battle to flee?"

Obi-Wan only quirks a brow at him in return, a challenge. The tease is Obi-Wan's roundabout way of asking what happened and if Cody is alright. Were he feeling generous or less– shit, he might explain. But he's not, so instead, he says, "Only you could be a greater headache than a cracked skull, sir."

Obi-Wan smiles down at him, but it falls away as he shivers violently.

After a beat, he asks, "Where did you go?"

Cody counters, "How did you find me?"

"Well, there certainly wasn't a smoke trail to follow," Kenobi grouses, indignant.

"Go on, then."

Obi-Wan says nothing in response and finally leans out of Cody's space. The freezing absence he leaves has Cody closing his eyes and curling up on the ground once more. The only sounds for a while are those of his general wandering around to gather sticks and foliage blown in from some rainstorm or another. By the time he has a fire lit, Cody has adjusted mostly to his various aches and pains.

He opens his eyes, and the small fire in front of him is nearly enough to convince him he never left the battlefield. If it weren't for the weariness in Obi-Wan's gaze, he could've been fooled. Obi-Wan's eyes are always ablaze during a fight, fire or not.

Cody wants to ask where the rest of the 212th is, what happened, and why Obi-Wan would come so far out on his own, but he has no energy. Suddenly, his throat feels impossibly dry, his body impossibly hot.

Roaring heat, licking up from the ground, charred flesh, ignited armor–

As he blinks, Cody finds Obi-Wan above him once more, a hand pressed to Cody's forehead.

Cody flinches.

"You–," Obi-Wan says, and then falters.

When Cody says nothing more, Obi-Wan continues, "You're burning up."

Burning, everything is burning–

Obi-Wan clicks his tongue before asking, "May I touch you?"

"What?"

"Your neck," he elaborates, looking down expectantly.

"I–," is all Cody can get out before coughing.

After a moment, he provides a weak nod.

Obi-Wan's fingertips are cold, and Cody's pulse jumps beneath his careful touch. As he applies faint pressure to Cody's neck, the visions of violence begin to fade, replaced only by the pleasant weight of Obi-Wan above him.

After a while, he asks, "Force?"

Obi-Wan hums, "No. I'm stimulating your vagus nerve."

Cody chuckles.

"What? Oh, stop that."

When Obi-Wan's hands creep towards the base of his skull, sharp pain shoots down Cody's spine.

"Sorry," Obi-Wan says, drawing away.

Finally, he asks, "What happened?"

Cody musters his strength, recounting the detonator blast and the ice his skull made fast friends with.

"I see," Obi-Wan muses after, staring absently at their small fire.

"I ordered a retreat at some point when I couldn't find you. I tried comming you, but it was all static. Had we stayed much longer, many more would've died from lack of oxygen."

Kenobi begins to tap the ground thoughtfully, his eyes wandering everywhere but Cody, "I remained behind to search for... you."

For your corpse, he doesn't say.

"Instead," he continues, "I found a trail of blood leading away from your helmet."

Cody wonders if he's imagining the tension in Kenobi's voice. He can picture all of the explanations Obi-Wan's mind supplied him for what happened. Cody knows the reserved worry on his face all too well.

"I'll be alright," he says, "did you let everyone know where you were going?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan says, "of course. But most soldiers were sent straight to medical, and we can't spare reinforcements right now because they're all aiding the 501st, about 10 klicks west. Anakin and his company will pick us up when daylight returns."

"A whole night without post-battle flimsiwork," Cody says, "what fortune."

A shiver wracks him, though he feels overheated. Next to him, Obi-Wan's teeth chatter faintly. Despite the fire, the atmosphere remains frigid.

"I can't let this one go," Cody whispers.

"I know what you mean."

Cody has gotten little sleep as of late. Each battle seems to roll into the next, like relentless waves in an endless ocean. He is the battered lifeboat against the winds, perilously pushed in a direction no one could know. There are other things at play, he is certain of it. Phantom currents tweaking his fate this way and that, toying with him.

Obi-Wan would tell him to trust in the Force, but Cody finds Obi-Wan far more reliable.

"Tired?"

Cody hears the question as if from a dream. He wonders how he can possibly answer without telling Obi-Wan of all the nights he lay awake, adrenaline-fueled, nightmare-stirred, or otherwise.

He settles on, "Just peachy," because of course he's tired.

He knows Obi-Wan is, too. He is, frankly, sick of being a better tactician than any droid and still having to bury his brothers. He is sick, he is tired, and he is in pain. They all are.

"I see them too, you know," Obi-Wan says, "the fallen. In all manner of horrible ways."

"How do you get them to stop?"

"You're not going to like my answer," Obi-Wan warns him.

Cody shrugs and immediately regrets it, pain lancing across that area. There are a lot of things he doesn't like, but he needs rest.

"How does one get anything to stop? Time."

"Brute force," Cody supplies, glancing up to meet Obi-Wan's eyes.

They crinkle around the edges in a handsome way that Cody lingers on too often.

"Matters of the mind prove more delicate, I've found," Obi-Wan says, sliding down to lay on his side next to where Cody is.

"What about matters of the heart," Cody asks, sly.

"Ah, deflecting I see."

"What," Cody razzes him, "you would recognize that, wouldn't you? It's one of your finest tactical abilities."

Obi-Wan scoffs, "My tactical abilities are what keeps us out of even more trouble."

"General," Cody says, suddenly serious, "are you alright? Did you sustain a head injury in combat? Perhaps you have acquired a concussion."

His general laughs good-naturedly before looking at him in a way that gives him hope. It is hope he shouldn't have.

"Where matters of the heart are concerned," Obi-Wan begins, "you need a great deal of bravery."

"What else?"

Obi-Wan shrugs, "Tact certainly doesn't hurt."

"You're so full of shit," Cody says, but he doesn't mean it. What he wants to say, he never will, at least not until things change.

"For example, telling someone they are full of shit while they’re flirting with you would not be considered romantic," Obi-Wan points out.

"Well, I wouldn't know."

After a moment, Obi-Wan considers him thoughtfully, "I am grateful you pass the time so easy, Commander."

Cody narrows his eyes, "Are you thanking me for being a distraction?"

"Albeit a pleasant one, but yes. That and more."

Cody asks, "What else am I to you, then?"

He knows Obi-Wan wanted him to ask the moment that spark goes in his cloudy blue eyes, and he presses close to Cody.

"You make a wonderful space heater, my dear."

#codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody

[honeymelonpm]

a small request, yandere Anakin with a reader from earth. like, he crashes here one day and finds reader when he's trying to fix his ship & goes after her to take her away with him maybe, maybe he thought reader was an angel like he thought padme was 🥺❤️

~Angel~

Characters: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Warnings: Yandere

Summary: Anakin stumbles upon a creature he's never seen before after crash landing on Earth.

Requested by this lovely anon!

Note: Words cannot describe how sorry I am that this took so long! 🤍

You had heard the piercing whistle resound through the still night air as ribbons of fierce yellow and orange danced in the dark sky, before a deafening boom shook the ground beneath you. The sky was painted ebony, consuming any wave of light into the night, keeping the crash site hidden from your curious eyes. So instead of investigating an impossible mystery, you fell back asleep in the middle of your overly large mattress, your bare legs tangled amongst the blankets.

Cupping some water in your palms, you splashed the icy water against your face, washing away any thoughts of the previous night. Goosebumps arose all over your naked body as you bathed in the river. You loved nothing more than starting your mornings like this, soaking up the warmth of the sun and awakening yourself in the cold stream.

Relaxing against the stones beneath you, you listened to all you could hear, the steady flow of water running past, birds singing their calls amongst the trees, a distant song of electrical beeps and whistles?

Peering through the surrounding trees, you searched for any sign of company. A few twig snaps followed by a series of beeps and whirrs was enough to have you call an early end to your morning routine.

Pulling yourself up and out of the river stream, you stole the white gown that dangled from a nearby branch and pulled it over your head, letting the thin linen fall over you, soaking up small amounts of water from your skin.

"Artoo?" A deep, smooth voice resonated around you, followed by a strain of whistles.

A metallic gleam of silver danced through the trees, blinding you, before it revealed itself in front of you. A mechanical being meeting the height of your waist, it's top half rotating back and forth as it flashed a circle of blue and red light. You hadn't seen anything like it. Sure you were no stranger to robot vacuums and whatnot, but what stood before you was different in its entirety.

Head spinning, it whirred again before gliding towards you, stumbling back as it did so.

"Go away!" You choked, your bare feet retreating along the rough bark littered on the forest floor.

Despite the droid pausing in place, you continued to stagger backwards, the curve of your back bumping against a large build.

Spinning around, you came face to face with a man before you. His broad chest smothered in layers of black fabric, long chestnut hair curled around his face.

His face was blank, eyes reading you before a mischievous grin appeared.

"And what must you be?" He whispered to himself, eyes searching yours.

"E-excuse me?" You scoffed, taking a step back.

A glimmer of light twinkled in his eye at your response, "You speak my language."

Your hands clutched at the folds of linen that gathered at your waist, "I'm sorry, I must go." Not sparing another moment, you started walking away, before a firm grip took hold of your arm.

Raising your knee to your gut, you threw back your foot, heel colliding with his shin as he shouted in agony, his grip on your arm loosening.

Leaping over the plains of stone, you made haste through the dense woodland, kicking up dirt as you ran before a force tugged at your ankle, your body slamming against the ground in seconds.

You kicked your other foot in an attempt at keeping him away, turning to face him when you couldn't manage to kick at him.

The hem of his ebony robes kissed the dewy blades of grass beneath him, his arm outstretched towards you, the force around your ankle ever increasing.

Heart leaping in your chest, your throat swelled as he stalked towards you, his gaze only softening slightly as he approached you.

Your beauty captured him in a daze from afar, the dimples and ribbons of pink that you wore on your thighs, peaking out from the woven linen, the few strands of hair that refused to relax on your head, the soft contour of your collarbones, he was in awe. He had never seen a creature so perfect, and yet here you were, displayed in the sun as if it were a spotlight.

Proceeding towards you, you almost choked on your words, "No, what are you doing?!"

Towering over you, he lowered himself above you, grazing his knuckles over your temple and along your cheek, an overbearing sense of exhaustion taking over you as any inch of consciousness left your body, your figure falling limp in his hold.

Now he was closer to you than ever before, he took a moment to truly admire you. The fuzz along the back of your neck that was highlighted by the morning sun, the crescent moons that appeared on a select few of your nails, the gentle creases on your lips, you were truly a wonder, and the thought of you had his stomach fluttering.

#fanfic #yandere #anakin skywalker #x reader #anakin x reader #yandere anakin #star wars #star wars prequels #artoo detoo #r2d2 #asks #request

[januaryembrs]

APPRENTICE | Kylo Ren x force user!reader

Request: Hi! Can you do a Kylo Ren x Reader, where the reader is a wielder of the Force who begs Kylo to be her teacher and to learn more about it. Imagining she’s heard about him and The First Order, & knows that he’s a powerful force user.

@obsessionprofessional says - Congrats on almost 1000 followers! I hope it IS 1000 by the time you read this! May I please request a Kylo Ren x female reader piece in which he finally admits his feelings? And maybe they snuggle :3 Again, congratulations on this milestone!

description: You realise your slight quirk is actually much more than you ever imagined when you meet an Empire commander who asks you to become his apprentice.

word count: 2.5k

trigger warnings: swearing? slight angst? feeling of being unworthy?

main masterlist

Some people said you had a kind of magic touch when it came to fixing machines. Call it a dull way of living, but being plunged into a world where it was thrive or die, being a useful hand at repairing droids proved incredibly beneficial.

When the order ransacked your village, in need of a crew to fix up a ship that had crash landed nearby. It wasn’t until they started pulling out blasters and yelling threats that someone threw you into the line of fire by claiming you were the best in town at engineering. It was true of course, but the candour had meant you were dragged at gunpoint to the ship and forced to work. 

You quickly realised this was not just any ship, but an officer's vehicle. Important, sleek, complex machinery. Not only that, its pilot looked royally pissed as he caressed a bleeding forehead and black eye. 

His cold near-black eyes flicked to you as the troopers thrust you forward. “The villagers said this one could fix it,” They said, nodding a head in your direction. He looked you hard in the face, and you jutted your chin up to give some impression that you weren’t afraid. 

Truthfully, you were shitting your cargos the moment you saw the saber on his hip. 

“You know how to build ships?” He barked, almost as if he was tired of you already, despite the fact you hadn’t dared breathe yet. You swallowed heavily, the stone in your throat not quite dislodging itself.

“Some, yes,” He seemed displeased, as told by the slight tilt of his head, “Most actually,” you corrected yourself, warily. “I’d have to give it a look but with the right tools proba- yes,” You stumbled.

You had no clue what he was thinking as his eyes narrowed into slits. He nodded his head for you to approach the ship, which you did so promptly.

One small mistake and you just knew your heart would be ripped from your chest cavity in seconds. 

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you lifted a gentle hand to the body of the ship. It hummed under your touch, as if groaning in pain from the damage to its body, and you let out a deep exhale, removing the control panel to at least pretend to be looking at the damage in the conventional way. You knew you didn’t even need to move an inch to discover the problem thanks to your superpower.

The parts of the ship flickered through your mind, each ticking over in their correct tune until your mind found the source of the problem. You had no clue how you’d always managed to feel the machines, feel every part of them with a single touch, as if they had a life or soul of their own; it was what made you so practical at your job. 

You quickly assessed the engine was shot, along with part of the wing’s wiring needed rebuilding. You turned back to the unkind commander with the answer ready in your mouth, only to see him staring at you with something in between fascination and confusion.

“The wings-” You started only for him to cut you off.

“How did you do that?” His sneer shut you up. Normally people just took it that you were talented at your job, no one had ever caught onto what you were actually doing. 

“Do- Do what exactly?” You stammered, chest puffing out in faux confidence.

He looked over you a moment longer, before igniting his saber and drawing it to your neck. You could feel the heat washing over your windpipe, the crackling of the weapon echoing in your ears. 

You gulped, the bravery slipping with no heistance. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I felt the disturbance in the force. Are you really so stupid you thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Your face screwed up. “The force? What’s a force?” You asked, eyes flicking to the saber as he brought it closer to your jugular. It was then you crumbled, “Please! I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s just something I’ve always been able to do, it’s how I fix machines so quickly back home-”

“So you have no idea what you are?” He mutters, his eyes dark as they took you in whole. He saw the sincerity in your puzzled expression, saw how your eyes showed nothing but fear and helplessness, like a wounded animal in need of a mercy kill.

He grunted, thrusting out a hand to his ship. You thought he was getting ready to strike you with his bare hand, drawing in on yourself. It was then that you heard a loud groan of metal work, and your head snapped to the ship behind you. You watched as something strong began crushing the vessel, as if the air around it was betraying itself and began squeezing. The metal dented, falling under the weight of the traitorous force. 

Force. He had said it himself. 

Your head whipped back to meet his eyes, dark and ravenous for the truth. “Do you see? We’re the same, you and I.” Your mouth dropped open, settling for a nod. 

He took a step closer to you, a gloved hand coming up to hold your temple, fingers gentle caressing your head. “You think I could do that?” You whispered, feeling something heavy settle over your brain, as if a bug had crawled into your ear as he touched you. You daren’t move away, something about his sharp eyes stunning you into place.

You wished to know what it was he thought you were capable of, the blind faith he was putting in you and whatever this force was you had. 

Of course you’d always wondered what it was that made you special, and here he was offering you an explanation. 

“You don’t know just how special you are,” He said clearly, dropping his hand. His black eyes flicked over your face that drew back in shock. It was as if he’d heard every thought you’d had, surely he couldn’t have. “I could show you just how remarkable you could be, just say the word.”

You gaped at him, stuck for words. The Empire were evil, they tore everything good up from the root and left the rest of the world to rot. You could never be one of them, never succumb to their ways. But you yearned to know what it was that gave you this power, yearned to wield it, perhaps even then use it for good; wanted to learn how to become as powerful and strong as he was. You saw how the troopers cowered around him, perhaps you could even hold that fear over them. 

You looked up at him, his eyes calculating as they took you in. He could give you all that.

“Teach me,” You murmured back. 

“Again!” He commanded, your chest constricting in an ache now familiar to you. It had been six months since he had found you and while you had come on leaps and bounds than simply testing machinery, you were even able to move objects with your powers now. 

The Force as you had come to understand it was peculiar in how it presented itself in each user. Kylo, who you spent most days with as his new apprentice, had told you some were better at healing while others specialised in combat, though you were pretty sure he was trying to comfort you in his own way at the fact you struggled some days to so much as lift blocks than move people like he could. 

Today being one of those days, where no matter how hard you pushed yourself, how hard you willed your hand to grasp the metal block and bring it to yourself, the damn thing would not budge.

“Kylo, I’m trying,” You grunted between attempts. You wouldn’t be surprised if you burst a vessel at this point with the exertion on your brain, “I can’t-”

“You are much more capable than you know,” The man retorted, and you felt his snake-like eyes watching as your face crumpled in effort. It was supposed to be supportive, but the way he said it was cold and plunging to your chest, as if he was tired of your dramatics. 

It only served to dishearten you further. 

“You expect too much of me, I’m no better than any child trying to learn this stuff,” You snapped, lowering your hand with a slap to your leg. You were tired, tired of all of this. “Maybe-” You willed yourself not to cry, “Do you ever think maybe I’m just not good enough?”

The past six months had truly taken your spirit out of you. Kylo woke you up early most days for the two of you to eat together before you had training. From there it was four hours in the morning, a break for lunch, then studying the texts he gave you on force users that came before you. Then more training like today's session, usually about object manipulation but he had been trying to get you to learn how to read his mind for the past few weeks. That alone was proving difficult since you were constantly on edge wondering if he was doing the same to you, the way his eyes darkened and jaw clenched making you believe he knew exactly what you were thinking. 

It wasn’t so difficult to see with one look into your head that your every thought revolved around him these days. How handsome he was, how he occasionally would caress your arm when helping you to focus, which only worked to send you spiralling. How pretty he was when he laughed if you said something particularly witty over first meal. 

You stopped trying, looking up at him tiredly. “What if I’m not as special as you want me to be?” You asked emptily. Seeing how talented he was only rubbed salt in the wound of your failures and had you wondering if you were cut out to be here for weeks now. 

He stopped, looking across the room at where you stood looking hopeless. “You’re being stupid,” He said, but the way his eyebrows quirked upwards slightly told you he wasn’t as annoyed as he sounded.

“No!” You protested, shrugging your shoulders and rubbing your neck, “You keep saying I can be great, I can be so much more- but you don’t get it. I’m trying, I’m bleeding myself dry to please you and I just know I’m never going to be as powerful as you want me to be,”

He was losing you, he could feel you slipping between his fingers as you stepped away from him. He knew he was pushing you but it was only because he saw the fire burning inside of you, the energy growing day by day, because he wanted you to be able to defend yourself if the worst should happen, if he couldn’t be there to take care of you. 

Kylo had not known any feeling like this before, as if the day he saw you fix his machine he had met himself in the form of another. Someone who could understand, who he could shape into an equal. His fondness only grew once he realised  how funny you were, how your mind ticked in an entirely different way to his own, how you were not another version of him but your own in an entirely unique way. 

He loved how kind you were, and gentle. Something he never was in this life. He saw how you looked at him, and he simply longed for you to realise just how much he cared.  

“You are,” Kylo whispered, finding his voice before you could turn away from him for good. You looked up at him, hearing him mumble under his breath. “You can be so powerful if you keep trying,” 

You shook your head, feeling as if this were the same thing you had heard time and time again, “Maybe it’s best if I just go home,”

That had his heart plummeting, “No, don’t-”

“I think that would be best for both of us. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,” You turned to exit the training room, wondering how you would get back to your home planet. 

“Wait!” He tried calling, and with three simple strides he had caught up to you and grabbed a tight hold of your arm, willing you not to go, “Please,”

That was a shock. He had never used such a word in the time you’d known him. You eyes snapped to his to see him staring down at you like a vulnerable creature. 

“Kylo-”

“You can’t leave me, please,” He begged, pulling you closer, “I know I don’t tell you, I haven’t told you but you are already spectacular. You never needed me to be special,”

You frowned at him up at him, head drawing back in frustration. “Don’t take pity on me, Kylo. I don’t need it,”

“No, it’s true! It was never me that made you amazing,” Kylo said, drawing you into his embrace further, as if scared you would flee like a scared sand rat, “You were all that on your own,” He went quiet, as if debating whether to talk more before his eyes flicked to your sneering lips, “It’s one of the things I like most about you, actually,” 

Your chest stopped, mouth struggling to choose between hanging open and remaining clamped shut as you tried to formulate words. 

He liked you. He liked you, and he no doubt knew just from one touch alone you liked him. Of course he must know. Should you tell him how you feel despite that? He must know, you must make sure he knows its mutual-

“Just,” Kylo’s begging cut through the tangent your brain sent you into as it always did when you thought of him, “Please don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone again. You mean more to me than I know what to do with,” His voice was quiet now, each word breathing over your lips.

Anything. You would do anything for him if it meant he would keep looking at you like that, begging you like that. 

You didn’t need to read his mind to know he was being honest, to know you needed each other more than either of your had ever realised. 

#kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanart #adam driver #Adam driver x reader #Adam driver imagine #kylo ren #ben solo x reader #ben solo imagine #ben solo fanfiction