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friendsoup · 6 months

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HALLO!! I THE ONE WHO REQ THE MEDI AND DIKKE FIC AND OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR WONDERFUL WRITING!!! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HOW YOUR WROTE THEM ALL. I legit have lot of fun reading it and laughing at poor digger but got bully by two serious person. I really adore how you write their interactions that just seem in character of them and then the end had me screaming in giddyness.

If is okay could i req again for medi and dikke with a reader that often sleep randomly at the most uncoventional of place, which is how vertin found out your relationship with them. Feel free to decline if you cant but still thank you so much again for writing my req i really love it and i hope you have a nice day!! 😭💖💖

Also i so sorry for ranting

A Quiet Moment

Recipe: Established romantic relationships, GN! Reader, Reader x Medicine Pocket, Reader x Dikke, Dumbass and idiot used as petnames, You and Medi try to out fluster each other, Dikke is a super simp for you, Vertin is supportive WC: 2,001

Chef's Note: WAAAHHH I'm glad you enjoyed the last one!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! I'm super happy to write for you again, anon! Don't be afraid to be a repeat customer! If you want, you can assign yourself an emoji even :0! Anyways, I had fun writing this! I have a bunch of requests I gotta bang out though....hehe

Medicine Pocket wasn’t the type for “love”. Or any other foolish emotions. They’ve always found romance to be such a stupid waste of time, taking away from more important things, like their research. More than once a scientist on their team would do something absent mindedly while thinking of their wife at home. Then they’d mess up, ruining Medi’s most important results. Those times were met with no sympathy, Medi ruthlessly tearing into her team members for their foolishness.

…However, you were kinda cute. And interesting. That’s what Medi liked about you most. You were strange, not like the other people they’ve met. They liked everything about you that was different. Your laugh, your personality, your interests. They found it fascinating the way you thought, the way you acted. Medi wanted to study you, and if that wasn’t love? They didn’t know what was. However, the two of you had been keeping things on the low. Medi didn’t want their reputation as a mad scientist to be tarnished, nor did they want to show any weakness in front of their fellow arcanists. Not to mention that you had a reputation of your own to uphold, and a lack of close friends on your team to blab to. The two of you kept quiet about your little arrangement, but that was fine. Neither of you felt the need to brag, and given how fast gossip spread around the suitcase, the two of you were happy to stay far from it. But oh, the foolishness of a person in love never fails.

Naps had always been one of your favorite ways to pass the time, and with how much training you were getting, a heavy layer of exhaustion hung over you like a blanket. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, you were always a few seconds from falling asleep. Lost within your own dreamy haze.

Today just happened to be especially tiring. You were helping out with some chores around the suitcase, preparing for the next mission, when you felt the strong siren call of another nap wash through you. You dragged yourself through the halls, your body too tired to stay upright for long. You needed a place to sleep, and quickly. You found your respite in the dining room, underneath the table. It was nowhere near meal time, so you were certain you’d be undisturbed for a while. Dropping to a crawl, you made your way underneath and placed your head on the wooden floor. It wasn’t comfortable, far from it, but it was enough for you to begin to drift off. Medi hadn’t been looking for you. At least, they didn’t think they were. They’d been wandering all day, avoiding chores like the plague and ignoring the urge to continue their studies. They’d been suffering through a major creative block with their experiments, which frustrated them to no end. They were a genius! Why couldn’t they get it together?

Medi found you underneath the table. At first they laughed at the sight, then a fond smile came to their face. And then, realization. “[Y/N]!” They called, kneeling down to your side. “You’re going to hurt your back if you sleep on the hard floor!” They warned, shaking you awake.

Groggily, you turned to them, annoyed that your nap had been cut short. “Nuh-uh.” “The fuck do you mean ‘Nuh-uh’?!” They exclaimed, “Dumbass! You’re going to hurt yourself! What are you thinking?!” “Tired.” You answer. “So, so tired.” Medi bites their fingertip through the glove, narrowing their eyes at you. “I’ll have to take a blood test to make sure you’re healthy. Even for an idiot like you, this isn’t healthy.”

“You’re worried.” You state, a warm smile growing on your sleepy face. “Nuh-uh!” Medicine Pocket shoots back, turning their face away from you. You can see a blush on their cheeks.

“You know…” You begin, reaching for their hand, “I might sleep better if I have something to rest my head on.” Medicine Pocket’s face grows redder, a pout twisting their expression. “What are you getting at, dumbass? Spit it out!”

“Can I rest my head on your lap?” You ask, bluntly.

Medi covers their face with their hand, still not daring to look at you. A smug smile grows on your lips, enjoying how much you’ve flustered your partner. You don’t expect them to agree, PDA isn’t something the both of you necessarily enjoy. It’s more a game of chicken, seeing who bends first. Medicine Pocket swallows, then nods. “Of course you can.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, I wasn’t serious!” You argue, the thought of PDA making your face heat up. “Too late to back out now!” They giggle, scooching next to you. They take a seat right next to your head, patting their lap. “Come on, sweetheart, take a nap with me.”

The pet name, despite how mockingly it’s used, sends an arrow straight through your heart. Though you’re hesitant, the offer is appealing. Cuddling with Medi isn’t something you often get to do, and here they are, presenting you with the opportunity. And so you lift your head, and place it on their lap. They squeak instantly, the flush returning to their face all at once. “Hey! What if someone sees us?” “They won’t.” You mutter, already losing the battle to sleep. You yawn. Medicine Pocket is so warm, and feels so soft beneath your head. You could stay like this forever, you think. “Nobody will.”

“Are you sure?” Medicine Pocket asks, yet they get no answer. You’ve already fallen asleep, lost in your own dreams. Medicine Pocket sighs, putting a hand on your head and stroking your hair softly. You remind them of one of their dogs like this. All gentle and cute. They find themselves smiling uncontrollably, lost in the bliss of being close to you. About a half hour later, Vertin enters the dining room. “Medicine Pocket? [Y/N]?” She calls, glancing around the room. “Where did the two of you go?” She asks herself, a scowl deepening on her face. The two of you were skipping your responsibilities, and as leader, she had to get you both on track. Medi froze, eyes wide with fear. They couldn’t be caught in a situation like this! Especially by the Timekeeper! But they also couldn’t escape! Your sleeping face was just too cute, they didn’t want to disturb it!

And then you snored. It was a slight, quick breath, but Vertin is a very perceptive girl, and she heard it right away.

“[Y/N]?” Vertin asked, “Are you napping again? You’ve ought to get your tiredness checked out by a-” She leaned over to peer under the table, locking eyes with Medicine pocket. “Oh!” Vertin exclaimed, before her eyes fell upon you, slumbering away. “Oooh.” “It’s not what it looks like!” Medi objected, keeping their voice to a hush. “It’s just- I’m just! It’s an experiment! They’re a test subject to me!” A light danced in Vertin's eyes as she saw you two, though her face bore no changed expression. “It’s alright. Your secret is safe with me.” She gave a curt nod, and stood. “Vertin- Wait!” Medicine called behind her, panic in their voice. “You’ve got it all wrong! No!” “You have nothing to worry about.” Vertin reassured them. “I wish you two love and prosperity.”

“Vertin?!”

Though Vertin did not breathe a word to a single soul, the suitcase was alight a week later with rumors of the new couple among their numbers. And though your days of being a quiet couple were over, at least Medi didn’t feel so embarrassed to be seen sleeping next to you anymore.

Her Peace

Dikke had never been a fan of romance in plays.

The way bards would speak on and on about the sweetness of love, of the bliss of another’s touch, of the pangs in one’s heart, it didn’t seem possible to her. How could love be so powerful? She’d felt romance before, towards some fellow knights, though her feelings never clouded her judgment. She always managed to keep a clear mind, and was able to keep her thoughts rational. The stuff the bards spoke of was hyperbole. …You muddied that belief. Dikke was unbelievably weak for you. It scared her, in all honesty. She’d never been so vulnerable around someone before. Your smile made her sway, your laugh made her weak in the knees. She found herself thinking of you late into the night, unable to close her eyes without seeing your face. The walls she’d spent so many years building, crashed around her. Destroyed by a single person. Nobody knew of this relationship of yours. It wasn’t as though it was secret, it just wasn’t something you discussed with other people. Dikke didn’t often speak on matters of the heart, and you never found a good excuse to bring it up. And thus, the suitcase was unaware of the budding relationship in their midsts. Dikke had been training for hours. It was what she did to clear her mind, to calm her anxieties. There was something comforting about doing repeated exercises. It kept both her and her blade sharp. However, it was also extraordinarily tiring. The hard labor strained her muscles, making each movement painful. Though she was careful to never overexert herself, she still remained sore after each intensive workout. This time was no different.

Dikke dragged herself through the forest, focusing on her deep breaths. Birds sang in the trees around her, the same songs they’d sung in her homeland. Bees buzzed by her, brushing gently against her as she walked, clumsily making their way through. The same way they did a hundred years ago. And before then as well. Dikke lost herself in thought as she walked, allowing the nostalgia to ease her weary bones. And then she saw you. Like something out of a fairytale. You were sprawled beneath a grand oak tree, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Dikke was stunned by your beauty, completely beside herself at the sight of you. Was it OK for her to see you like this? So vulnerable and pretty? Her heartbeat quickened, it was so loud she was worried it would wake you. You looked so peaceful, it made her dizzy. The fact that you could sleep so soundly here, without a care in the world… She wanted that tranquility. That trust in the world. Dikke sat next to you in the plush grass, keeping her guard up. She couldn’t just leave you here! What if something happened? She’d never forgive herself! As quietly as she could, she removed her cape, draping it over you in a single movement. Dikke loved the view of you in her cape. Seeing it made it hard for her to think, her brain only filled with thoughts of you. Surely it was alright to indulge. Just this once? You wouldn’t mind the company, would you? Holding her breath, Dikke laid beside you, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. She didn’t want to intrude, but she wanted some of that peace. Some of that tranquility you held.

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. The mix of the workout and your presence was too much on her weary mind. By the time Vertin found the two of you, you were entangled in each other’s arms. Your head on Dikke’s chest, and her face pressed into your hair. The sight surprised the timekeeper, though she knew better than to react. She didn’t want to risk waking you up.

Later, Vertin would seek you out. “I see you’ve found your knight in shining armor.” She tells you. Though it doesn’t reach her face, you can hear the smirk in her voice. “What do you mean by that?” You ask, confused. “I wish you and Dikke well. That’s all you need to know.” She responds. You grow too flustered to continue the conversation any further.

#x reader #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #Dikke #Dikke x reader #Dikke x you #Dikke reverse 1999 #Medicine Pocket #Medicine Pocket x reader #Medicine Pocket x you #Medicine Pocket reverse 1999 #fanfic #reader insert #Let's Make Friend Soup!#Order Up!

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kryptonitejelly · 8 months

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nick amaro x reader // law and order SVU

yes, we are going there - what have i done 😭 no plot, really. just a moment.

The last thing Nick had expected to find when walking back into the SVU bullpen was you; and yet, here he was, eyes fixed on you as his strides quickened. He notices Fin’s smirk that finds itself aimed his way as he weaves his way between Amanda and Liv to get to you, but he ignores it.

He lets his gaze drag itself over your form, head down on his desk, the lamp on his desk casting a soft glow around your features; the extra suit jacket he leaves hanging on the back of his chair draped over your shoulders. You have a laptop open in front of you, a case file and note pad within reach, all topped off by an uncapped pen lying caged between your curled fingers. He sees the pair of heels which you had shed, one standing, one lying on its side peeking out from under his desk. A dip of his gaze reveals the deep green of the dress which you had on, one of his favourite dresses on you - one that he knew you had worn in to work today in anticipation of Friday having supposed to be date night.

Nick slows his pace as he approaches you, content in the few seconds to allow himself to watch the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders. The sight stirs a mix of emotions in his chest - the swell of emotion that came rushing in whenever he set his eyes on you, and a heavy tinge of guilt. Guilt that he had to cancel the first date night you both had managed to plan after weeks of clashing schedules, guilt that you taken it so well, and guilt that you had somehow found your way here, to the SVU bullpen so that you could both head home together.

Nick drops to a knee, bringing himself to eye level with your face. He raises his hand to cup the side of your face gently. His touch on your skin is light, soft, but it makes you stir immediately.

“Hey,” Nick’s voice grounds you as you let your mind grind to a start, your surroundings shifting into focus. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought we could go home together,” your lips furl up into a gentle smile, voice soft, your eyes, still hazy with sleep, locked onto Nick’s. You forget your bearings for a moment until you hear a cough from behind Nick as various footsteps shuffle into the bullpen. You straighten up slowly, blinking the sleep from your eyes, legs stretching out beneath you as you offer a wave to the rest of the team trudging in.

“An ADA slumming it at Amaro’s desk?” Fin muses, voice joking and light.

“What would Barba say,” Munch follows, expression deadpan.

“Unbecoming isn’t it?” Liv continues with a quirk of one end of her lip.

“What can I say,” you play along, “not all of us have Barba’s flair.”

“Clearly,” Amanda states, looking pointedly at Nick which earns a series of chuckles from the rest of the team and yourself.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick waves a hand in the air dismissively, but his gaze doesn’t leave you. You tilt your body downward slightly, hands reaching for your discarded heels. Nick notices and he is back on a knee in one fluid motion.

“Nick,” you protest as he places a hand along your calf, his other propping your heel up, helping you back into your heels. You hazard a glance behind your boyfriend, only to find the rest of the team, tactfully busying themselves with their desks. “I’m not Cinderalla,” you state, but with no real protest as you let him guide your other heel back on.

“I’m not your Prince Charming?” He teases, not caring who else heard, giving your calf a gentle squeeze before winking at you and straightening back into a stand.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” you pull a face as you turn to gather your belongings, making quick work of shoving them into your bag with Nick’s help.

“Way to hurt a man,” he places a hand on his chest as you shrug his spare jacket off your shoulders; Nick takes it from you, hanging it back on his chair.

“She could hurt you more” Fin cuts in again with a sing-song voice. It makes you chuckle, as you catch a wink Amanda throws in your direction.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be Detective Tutuola,” Nick asks all while shrugging off the jacket on his shoulders to place it over yours, letting it hang off your frame. He flicks off the light switch on his desk and picks your bag up.

“If I say no, will you let me tag along?”

Your yes comes at the same time as Nick’s absolutely not, and it earns you another series of chuckles around the room.

“Don’t call me till Monday,” Nick calls out, while threading his fingers through yours as he starts to guide you towards the lift. You barely manage to call out a goodbye, before the lift doors shut on you both.

“I didn’t-” your protest is cut short by Nick’s lips on yours, his free hand circling your waist, going over the fabric of his jacket on your shoulders. You let yourself sink into the kiss, hand sliding up his shoulder and behind his neck as the lift descends to the parking garage.

“I’m sorry I had to cancel today,” he says, forehead resting against yours as he breaks the kiss. His eyes are closed, but you flicker yours open as you run your hand from the back of his neck to cup the side of his jaw.

“You have nothing to apologise for Detective Amaro,” you end with the professional term of address in attempt to diffuse some of the guilt you see in his eyes. “Work,” you continue with a light shrug - Nick was a victim of you cancelling on him as well, and you understood.

“I was really looking forward to tonight,” he says, still apologetic as he finally opens his eyes while leaning his face into your palm.

“I can think of a few ways you can spend the rest of the weekend making it up to me,” you say, dropping your voice to a lower, almost sultry tone as you lean into him, pressing the front of your body into his. Nick responds by pulling you in closer, his hand dipping down the hem of his jacket on your shoulders to slide down onto the curve of your ass.

“Take me home Detective Amaro,” you say as the lift door dings open.

“Your wish is my command,” Nick says in response, taking the opportunity to sear another quick kiss onto your lips before tugging you out of the lift.

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machiavellli · 2 months

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In the HEAT of the moment

Pairing: Cal Kestis x chiss!jedi!reader

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: reader is in heat, unholy use of the force, slightly angst dynamic (we are a bit bratty), 0ral f&m receiving, p in v, dom!cal(?)/switch (accusingly), p0rn w/o plot (not really?), no use of y/n

Summary: Terribly h0rny on a ship with an attractive redhead, what could possibly happen?

MDNI!

Author’s note: it all started that I wanted to write an old classical sex pollen! fic, but then I remembered how a lot of people (myself included) headcanon chiss people to have a mating cycle and I thought it could be an interesting alternative. Also the only thing you really have to know about chiss people is that they are generally speaking slightly cold people, they have blue skin (NOT MENTIONED) and red eyes (which glows when they feel strong emotions). Reader is depicted as a force user, but this honestly only serves the purpose to make it even more filthy.

Sorry for the BAD DESCRIPTION of the Mantis, do you really care though? Also BD is safe and sound from any inappropriate view🤌

English isn’t my first language

I watched the red-haired figure beside me trying to land the ship as fast as he could, fear painted all over his face, anxiousness filling his chest. If only he could know what was actually wrong with me.

I was spread out on the co-pilot seat, breathing heavily, clothes increasingly damp from the sweat that was now clearly crowning my face. I was trying to concentrate exclusively on my force signature, or rather I was desperately trying to keep it closed. I just had to wait for the wave to pass, for this embarrassment to end.

I hated the fact that it happened in front of him, I usually was able to handle it myself. I wanted to shout at him to leave, I wanted to maintain my usual cold character, he had never seen this vulnerability in me before and he was scared.

He was probably thinking a fever had come over me, he couldn't possibly know how my biology worked and he couldn't, shouldn't know, that I was developing a soft spot for him.

It was so hard to be this close yet so far from his touch. If I had spoken I would have lost all control over my signature and he would have been able to sense my heat expanding. How the heat ran more and more in my blood until I felt my eyes burning. If only he could know.

I remained contorted in the chair, trying to tighten all my limbs, trying to make myself smaller and smaller, to repress this uncontrollable situation. My head was back, eyes half closed, I couldn't look at him, even though the image of him, those damn red hair, was now imprinted on my retina. Every time I tried to open my eyes even slightly, he would turn his worried gaze in my direction. My glowing red eyes left me no opportunity to escape his peripheral vision.

I closed my eyes definitively, trying to cling to the little concentration I had left. I could feel Cal landing the ship, this is absolutely useless, I kept thinking. BD scanned me, «I know her temperature and pulse are high, I can see it» he replied with a frustrated tone to the droid, he didn’t like at all this unusual situation.

My eyes were still completely shut, not even for the love of the Maker I was going to open them, especially now that I could hear him rising from his piloting seat.

«You have to tell me something though, what the hell is happening to you, you were fine thirty minutes ago» he was now hovering over my face, and I could feel his warm breath as he spoke.

His hand reached out for my face, but I quickly sent him away, dismissing it with my arm, still, the brief touch made me tremble from the inside. And he noticed it.

You aren’t getting any information out of me, I would explode before letting you know anything, I thought.

He loudly snorted, starting to grow frustrated by his anxious state and my attitude.

«Listen, you got to tell me something. Why can’t I access your signature? You never blocked it. Let me read you» he then gripped with decision at both of the sides of my now completely sweaty head and made me face him.

I had to bite so hard my lips to hide the moan that almost made it out, to the point where I tasted my own boiling blood.

Focus, focus, focus. For the love of the Maker and for my dignity.

I tried to remove myself from his cautious touch, but his callous hands gripped harder, keeping me firm in my place. I then opened my eyes, the light of the cockpit invading my sight, making my eyes water from the discomfort, but I kept my burning gaze on him. Hopefully, even if a tear started to descend, he would recognise my furious gaze, which I had unfairly dedicated him numerous times, on missions, but also in everyday activities. I was just trying to keep my distance for all of those months, but all the crafting I did on my persona was breaking just in front of his eyes. If only he knew.

«I just want to help you. Let me help you. I know that you hate being helped, especially by me, but I need you alive and healthy kriff» he sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, but I kept my gaze fixed on him, breathing even more heavily. It felt like oxygen wasn’t enough. Because it wasn't, as I resignedly knew; and I knew I was going to need his help if he didn't get out of here in mere seconds.

«Since I don’t know what’s the matter with you, I’m sorry, but I have to try to access your mind. You look like something is giving you a panic attack» how ironic.

If only he knew.

After that sentence, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold the game, the control I had over my force signature was feeble, so it took me all my strength to do it, but I kicked him as hard as I could in the stomach, desperately trying to send him away. The kick ended up being much more delicate than I had in mind, it didn’t even hurt him, but it still made him step back a little and remove his delicious hands from my skull. I tried to catch the opportunity to leave the cockpit, but as I tried to stand up, my bloody wobbly limbs made me crash on the floor, my head hitting the seat just above and failing forward.

I hissed in pain, desperate, needy and desolate for the scene that Cal had to endure. I was barely lifted from the floor with my elbows, I lifted up my gaze towards his direction. Hairs sticking to my forehead and breath still as heavy as an imperial cruiser.

«Let me help you. You are a mess» he slowly walked next to me, lowering his broad figure to my level. Flashes came back in mind from all the times I had the upper hand over him, in our training sessions or missions. I was so good at hiding everything, until I wasn't.

«Y-you need…t-to stay away from me» I whispered and it made him widen his eyes from the surprise that I could speak. Words as light as air destined to fall into the sea of uselessness as quickly as lead. And with that, the unstable hold I had on my signature fell.

«I can’t leave you here, don’t be rid-» he started saying by lifting me from my arms. And with that, he knew. Now he knew.

Moments that felt eternal passed as I held again my gaze, now completely stripped of any decency. Kriff, if he knew.

I couldn’t reach for his signature, I simply lacked the strength to do so, but I was sure that he was scanning my interior from top to bottom, I could sense him everywhere in me. It was so good, I imagine the real touch, how good that must feel.

«Go away.» I replied, closing my tired eyes once more, letting my head fall forward, hiding hopelessly my bare mind.

«But I thought that I felt so good…» he said meanwhile rising my head once more, lifting my chin with one of his damn hands. And a light moan escaped my lips.

My mind went blank there, eyes fixed on him as I would be staring into the void itself and my mouth opened from the shock, revealing the now dried blood painted on my lips. I felt the agonising tears and the sweat mixing over my face, this was purely mortifying.

One thing was being shamed without addressing it and one thing was whatever was going on here. But as much as I felt shamed, I felt this growing heat rising once again in me: it felt good.

And it certainly didn’t help when he started to gently brush away the dried blood from my lips with his thumb. I was just glad his eyes were fixed on them and not my eyes, you know, for the sake of my decency.

«All of this…all of this for what?» He chuckled lightly, readjusting his gaze on me, making our eyes entangled again «For hiding from me? The only one ashamed is you, wilful as always».

«Leave the matter to me, I-I will handle-»

«You don’t get to handle a thing. Be a good girl and let me help you or your rut won’t pass» he voiced firmly.

This time, my eyes widened in surprise and the little nickname made my body flinch.

«Tell me you want my help and you will be served.»

For a moment, I breathed heavily again, focusing entirely on reaching for his signature: he was being honest. That’s all I needed. I needed him and he knew. He knew it all.

«Help me, n-need you»

Without any other dancing around, he lifted me easily, closing the cockpit door of the Mantis behind him, and locking up BD. My head instinctively went back, just for him to catch it with his large hand. I wanted any clothes off.

Once we reached for the table, he delicately leaned me against its surface, ice against my warm skin. He climbed over me with his broad figure, feeling his own arousal growing. He waited for this for so long. And I did not know.

Our lips, now, mere inches away. I was hot, but kriff, I could feel his heartbeat also running. Our breaths mixed over our faces and for cutting short all the theatrical tragedy, I simply lifted one of my hands to cup his face, making him come instinctively closer. Now as my lips danced on his, I knew it was over.

I was burning, to the point where the heat gave me back my strength and I started holding onto his hair with both of my sweaty desperate hands, making a moan escape from him. He felt like a sweet fresh relief from my pain, but Force, if I need more than that. Our hips then started to stroke against each other, searching for the real relief.

It felt like we were eating off each other’s faces, sloppy kisses filled with burning passion, mixing with the sweat and blood, nothing too different from our condition on a battlefield wryly.

Then, he started travelling down to my neck and moans finally freely left my mouth, as I felt the ginger growing harder on my thighs.

«You are so warm, so good» he muttered half moaning into my neck as his hands started working on my tunic, but he stopped for a moment and looked at me with those pretty green eyes: «Can I?».

«Hurry.» was my response.

And he hurried. Basically ripping my damp tunic away, and without losing a second he was on my breast, skilfully sucking one as he played the nipple of the other with his callous hand.

«So soft, can’t believe I had to wait this long» he whispered as his voice grew hoarse with desire.

«More Cal» I whined softly, now completely blinded by lust.

And my wish was his command.

He navigated down, in the direction of my wetness, leaving a trail of careless kisses behind. His hands, which felt frigid, given my temperature, followed him as he went down, gripping firmly my waist, and making my eyes roll. Hence, he held me still with one large hand flat over my lower stomach, pressing lightly, as the other worked to remove my trousers. At last, I was bare before him, a desire I hid for long.

«It took you a heat wave, almost a heart attack, for letting me touch you. So obstinate to prove yourself, when you were already perfect in front of me» he breathed while he lowered himself, as my thighs were being spread upon his face.

As my legs parted, I felt my indecent drench slide down, feeling exposed and turned on like never before.

«You are going to be my four-course meal» he mumble, taking a look at my condition and smirking, before starting to rub over my sensitive clit, as his breath kept teasing me.

I was in no condition to speak, my mind was already far too gone, and filthy sounds were the only thing coming out of me. And Force, the sight would have killed any Jedi master back at the temple. Too bad.

Once he considered it enough, he closed the gap between my heat and his lips, starting to suckle intensely, holding me open for him, feeling every one of his digits pressing into my flesh. The touch felt electric, combined with his force signature overwhelming me inside. I wanted him, may this be the last thing I ever do.

And he damn knew.

«For someone so bitter, you taste so sweet» A low groan escaped from him as he gripped greatly at my inner thighs, parting my lips even more, whilst I held on the table for my damn life, trying to steady myself as my body trembled beneath him.

His lips, the swirling of his tongue over my swollen bud, the slightly cool sensation from his lower temperature and the air around us, were driving me wild. I was getting close and instinctively I tried to force my legs closed, but I was immediately shut by his powerful hands, keeping me more open and vulnerable than ever.

«Don’t try. Let me have what is mine» he hissed while flipping me over to my stomach.

My face and chest made contact with the cold surface, as I felt my hips being lifted and dragged at the edge of the table. His cool grip, air, surface and exposure made my walls clench. The sight of my bare ass made his cock, still hidden beneath all his clothes, twitch in anticipation. He nudged over my warm soft flesh, admiring my curves, gripping it with force and giving it a loud slap.

«Don’t you think you were bratty enough? It feels so good to have the upper hand, no wonder you like it some much»

He was enjoying this almost as much as me, the only difference being that I was utterly submitted to my own desire, my rut, desperately trying to get me filled with his seed.

He lowered once more his gaze to my warm, opening my lips with his rough thumbs, as my wetness fell on the table’s surface. His mouth captured my clit once more, making me tremble from the newly acquired angle, but his hands were quickly on my sides, supporting my weight.

We kept filling the room with my indecent moans and his low groans as he ate me out like a starved man, till the point where I reached my peak, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation coursing through my body. Oh Force, oh stars. Why did I wait so long for him?

Instinctively, I let my hips fall on the table and Cal followed me, resting his head on my lower back, giving it a soft kiss. We were both breathless, but we were both far from being over with this.

We both knew.

My heat returned after mere seconds, making me whine. I flipped myself over as Cal lifted himself from me, gripping one of my ankles to drag me closer to him.

«Undress. Come over to the table. Quick.» I commanded and so he did as I said.

Rapidly he removed his own clothes and I got to stare at his toned pale body, covered in delicious freckles and reddish hairs travelling all the way down to his throbbing member. What a show.

He climbed for the second time that day over my figure and when he got to the level of my face, I decided that before anything else, I would have to taste him, my thoughts driven by my burning lust. I took him from his shoulders, switching our positions, causing his head to collide with the table and blocking him with my thighs, my wetness now pooling on his lower stomach, just above his crotch.

«My turn, you had your fun Kestis»

Whiteout giving him the time to protest, I descended over his body, leaving a trace of warm bites from his neck till the lowest part of his abandonment, making him squirm at every touch. I felt like my blood was boiling even more, raising my temperature once again.

I softly bit the flushed skin of his cock, before opening my watery mouth and taking as much as I could from his size. My boiling mouth, working in sinuous movements around his member, made him let out a low groan, overwhelmed by the sensation.

«If o-only I could’ve shut you up before like this, mhm. So pretty. So good.» he stated bringing his hands over his face moaning, lifting his hips up a little, causing me to pleasantly choke on him.

Hence, he moved one of his hands on my head, encouraging me to go deep, to move faster, increasing his excitement. From now on, I wouldn’t have ever again protested to remain silent.

Then, he lifted my head from him, a hand taking me from my chin, cleaning once more my lips, but not from blood this time.

«Nobody here wants me to come in your mouth, let’s be honest» he asserted and it was almost as if my rut snapped me out of my state, remembering what I truly want and need.

All I wanted was being filled, till I couldn’t take it anymore, filling me with pleasure and relief from the unbearable heat that has been consuming my body.

«Please» I pleaded softly, biting my lower lip between my teeth, desperation adorning my words.

Cal lifted me from my stance, sitting up and swinging my legs around his lap, my core just in front of his.

«You are beautiful, you have always been amazing, even if I thought you hated me» he spoke softly, caressing with one hand my face, removing some of the hairs sticking over it, whilst, with the other one, he held my waist firmly.

«I am sorry, I was just trying to be professional» I confessed lowering my gaze. The sounds of our heartbeats were the only thing I could hear as our force signatures started to entangle.

«You were more annoying than professional» he chuckled, «And professional for who? Do I look professional? C’mon.»

«Mhm…annoying…just because I kept beating your ass Kestis»

I took his chin with one of my hands, as the other gripped at the nape of his neck, his Adam’s apple rising as I bit again into his neck, making him breathe heavily.

«So annoying…» he moaned, «Tell me what you need to make you feel better, I would do anything for you»

Our signatures overflowing into each other, make me see the stars and the kriffing galaxy, I said in his mind. He thankfully knew.

Without another thought, he laid my back again on the surface, as he towered over me.

Breathe in, breathe out.

His fierce mouth was on mine, filthy kissing me, catching restlessly my swollen lips and whimpering while doing so. His hand adorned my curves, clasping at the softness of my hips, gently moving one leg up, aligning himself at my entrance.

Locking our eyes, sharing one last breath, before his length entered me.

Instinctively, I rolled my eyes back as his thick member filled me completely. He was everywhere inside of me, his pleasure was mine and mine was his. The Force could reserve such unholy uses.

«See? Good girls get stretch real good» he muttered in a groan of pleasure.

The carnal desire was burning more now than ever.

As he moved inside of me, I arched my back and let out soft moans, whilst he was holding me tightly, growling at the nape of my neck. I clenched my walls around him as he hit every sweet spot just right. Every deep trust emanated a lustful indecent sound, skin against skin, clapping together, coiled by sweat and desire.

He was filling me divinely, but I needed it raw. Animalistic. As my rut intended.

But, without words, he knew that.

Cal flipped me over, grabbing onto my waist from behind, as he impaled himself without warning in one trust. His powerful thrusts sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through my entire being, and I felt the intensity of his emotions radiating through every cell in my body as he poured into me relentlessly. One of his hands reached for my neck, bringing him even more inside of me.

As our hearts synchronised, the combination of the raw act and our force signature fuelled his movements. the connection deepening with each powerful stroke.

Every noise, every sound of pleasure, filled the room, intoxicating our actions even more, the sound of our skin colliding acted as a frame, in this almost dazzling lust.

We both become lost in the heat of the moment, Cal blinded by my rut that I shared with him in the force.

His cock throbbed with excitement, eager to release its energy deep within my welcoming embrace. The redhead filled me up completely with his solid, pulsating presence. The sensation was invigorating, propelling both of us closer to the brink of euphoria.

«Close» I mumbled with the little strength left in me.

His muscles tensed, as I tightened around him, feeling my pleasure intensify as Cal’s arousal reached its peak.

With his last powerful strokes and the connection we shared in that moment, I saw the stars and the galaxy, feeling our bodies intensely tremble at the reach of our high, whilst gasping loudly.

He painted my inside white with his warm liquid, turning my body temperature back to normal.

Breathless, he fell onto my back, his nose brushed deliberately over my ear, with his member still inside of me.

Restored our normal heartbeats, he lifted the both of us from the table, guiding us to the sofa, where I sat on his lap, brushing some of his hair away as he did the same with me.

«I had no idea chiss had a mating cycle»

«Nobody knows, it’s embarrassing»

«It was fun in my opinion baby» he confessed before giving me a small caste kiss. The action, made me flush and smile unintentionally, which produced a soft laugh from the redhead.

«Fellow associate» I replied, hiding the smile.

«Don’t start again ple-»

«The cycle lasts a week» I said, cutting him off by placing one finger over his own swollen lips.

His eyes widened and a smile formed upon his face as I pressed my forehead on his, smiling, without control this time.

There was nothing he didn’t know now.

Lovely gifs from @vindicia !!

Beautiful dividers from @cafekitsune !!

Star Wars masterlist

General masterlist

My request are open, just know that I’m slow✨

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callsign-relic · 8 months

Note

Hi, I saw your requests are open, and I was hoping you'd be ok with writing my request. I have been having a bit of a hard time, and I was wondering if you could write a Megatron fic for comfort. I'm usually a bit of a spitfire, but I'm just overwhelmed and exhausted. I'd prefer TFP Megatron, but I'm pretty flexible. Absolutely no pressure to write this, and I hope you have a great rest of your day! :)

Hi! So you did submit this while my requests were closed, but seeing the topic at hand, I wanted to get this done for you anyway. Thank you for being my first TFP Megatron request! This was actually very fun for me to write! To anyone who has read TF Exodus, I hope you’ll appreciate the little callbacks I make to it here and there >:)

I hope this could make you feel a little better anyway though, and I hope things improve for you soon :)

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader

“What’s the matter with you?”

The sudden question makes you perk your head up from your seat. You were sitting hugging your knees on the command module of the Nemesis’ hull, though you might as well have been somewhere else entirely with how lost in your thoughts you were. You look upwards to find Megatron gazing down at you from above— standing tall with his arms behind his back, gazing at you from only the bottoms of his optics, not with his whole helm. His muted grey frame stuck out sorely against the vibrant purple hue of the Nemesis’ command center.

“Wh— What?” You stammer, the mech’s question not fully processing in your head before you blabber out a response. Megatron doesn’t repeat himself, he merely continues to stare down at you as you gather your bearings. Despite the mech’s infamous impatience, he seems oddly content in allowing you to correct your misspeaking.

“Nothing,” you finally reply, even if you can’t make eye contact with him as you do. “Sorry to distract you. Keep going.”

Gunmetal grey flashes in your vision, and you realize that the very end of one of Megatron’s claws is suddenly beside your face, turning your head to face him. To your surprise, he’s bent down at the waist to level himself with you, yet still he has his helm raised just so that he’s still looking down at you.

“I asked you a question,” he begins, and despite the fact that he sounds like he was scolding you, his tone is… soft. Like he didn’t want his voice to ring too loud over your human ears. “And you will answer.”

Being scrutinized in such a manner, you couldn’t even think up a decent excuse. You were left stuttering under his gaze once more, and it’s only when you huff out a sigh that you mentally say ‘screw it’. “I’ve just… felt overwhelmed,” you answer, and Megatron’s digit slowly pulls away from you as you go on. “I know as the only human here I’m not expected to do much. But still, I want to pull my weight around here. I guess I’ve just been overworking myself in the process and…” you trail off. Seeing Megatron’s unchanging expression doesn’t encourage you in the slightest, and you turn your head away once more. “It’s stupid,” you mutter, “You’re dealing with so much more anyway.”

And for a while, it’s silent. Only the sound of the Nemesis’ engine roaring in the distance and the hull’s computer module’s fill your ears, and you’re sure that you’ve overshared. Not to mention the low purr of Megatron’s own idling engine, humming before you as if to mock you. Tears well up in your eyes and you make to curl into yourself once more—

Until suddenly, Megatron extends a hand, and scoops you up from behind.

You shout as you’re lifted high into the air, centering yourself in the middle of the mech’s palm as he raises you toward his faceplate. You quickly turn your gaze away from the rapidly descending floor over to Megatron, but unscrunch your face at the sight.

He almost looked… gentle.

Like a mech who has truly lived through several millions of years of war. You take note of the rough scars running down from his eyes and mouth. The typically harsh crimson glow of his optics didn’t burn you as they so often did before. No, rather they glowed down upon you with an oddly warm feeling.

“My pet,” Megatron begins, voice no higher than a low rumble you can feel resonate through the metal of his palm, “I know much of pain. Of working tirelessly, only to feel as though your efforts are fruitless. But what is it that I encourage every Decepticon to do?”

He actually pauses, and it hits you that he’s expecting you to reply. Awkwardly, you look to the side for a moment and shrug. “To… keep working and follow your orders?”

“To fight,” The warlord corrects you, and you blink as you’re taken aback. With his free servo, Megatron closes out the computer module you had been sitting on and suddenly starts to make his way out of the main hull, lowering you down towards his chest. Where he was going, you weren’t sure, but the rock of his arm beneath you and the sound of his heavy pedesteps almost relaxed you. “Though it was millennia ago, the Decepticons were originally formed to fight against our oppressors on Cybertron. The oppressors of not only the lower castes, but of every sentient being on Cybertron— the High Council.”

“I… I think I remember reading about that,” you remark, taking the chance to sit cross legged in his palm. Though the constant rocking motion of his arm was nice, you were only human— you didn’t want to get nauseous. “Soundwave was digging through some old files when he was trying to decode the Iacon database. The title interested me so I asked him to send it to me. Though, it was only in Cybertronian, so I couldn’t understand it very well.”

Megatron lets out a huff above you— or was it a laugh that he breathed out? “Originally, I did not necessarily condone the actions of the first Decepticons. Inspired by my words, rogue Cybertronians launched attacks over key parts of our planet. First, it was Six Lasers Over Cybertron. Then, it was Uraya. Polyhex. Stanix. Blaster City. The Sonic Canyons. All less than a cycle apart.”

As he went on, you found your jaw dropping. Countless Cybertronians cities bombed, not even under direct orders from Megatron? “Then finally, Altihex. All done without my awareness. And you know what that did?”

You shake your head. You couldn’t even muster up a squeak.

A smile curled itself at the ends of Megatron’s dermas, and you could see the rows of his sharp teeth flash from behind. “It got the Council’s attention,” he finishes. “It was from there that I learned that people do not listen to mere words. People listen to action, and it is through action that progress is made.”

You look down to stew over his words, but again, Megatron raises you back up to his face. He takes your head by your chin with the tip of his finger and raises it to face him. Once you lock eyes, he turns his gaze forwards— behind you— and you turn your own head to look where he’s facing.

Two thick iron doors slide open, and the sound of rushing wind blasts past you. You’re pushed forwards by the sudden impact, and you feel as though you might fly off of Megatron’s hand right there. But the force behind you stops in an instant, and you pick yourself up to find that Megatron has raised a servo before you to block the harsh winds as he lowers you back down to his chest. The titan of a mech continues forward, even as you look up at him in gratitude— though he raises his voice to allow you to hear him over the altitude.

“Your situation is dire, little one,” his rough voice declares, “thrust into an alien world, trying your hardest to keep up… it’s a monumental task, to climb so far if only to stand upon the shoulders of giants.”

You finally sit back down properly, only this time not bothering to cross your legs. Slowly, Megatron lowers the wall of his other hand, but as you think you might get cast away to the winds again, you notice the mech pull his thumb in towards you. You grab onto it, and wisely so, as with his now free hand the warlord gestures grandly out towards the main deck.

There, you see it. The endless sea of pure white clouds beneath you, brightly reflecting the light of the sun which was just starting to dip beneath the clouds. The sky was encompassed in a deep blue, though where the sun was beginning to settle down, soft hues of pink, orange, and purple were soon to follow.

“The world is yours to take, little one,” Megatron’s voice rings out over it all. “It will be mine to conquer, and yours to make the most of.”

#relic writes #this is also my unofficial announcement that I’ll be doing requests out of order from now on #Transformers #Transformers x reader #reader insert #Transformers Prime #Transformers Prime x reader #Tfp #Tfp x reader #Megatron #Megatron x reader #Tfp Megatron x reader

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novaonhere · 10 months

Text

Quiet Nights

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Cal has a dream that totally goes against the Jedi code. During his panic, you come to check on him and find him in a comprisable position.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: ITS SMUT TIME FOLKS, 18+, oral f! receiving, no condom, cussing, choking (duh the force?)

A/N: Delicious, I drank a full 32 oz of water after this

Prompt: Imagine your OTP where one of them had a dream about the other person and tries to act normal, but fails miserably, so the other one notices and gets curious about what the dream was about.

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

You yawn, filling up your cup with water from the bathroom sink. You gulp it down, refreshing you as much as a glass of water at 3:34 am could. It was nice having a bigger bathroom; you're used to the small Mantis bathroom instead of this spacious one on Jedah. You, Cal, Bode, and Greez have arrived to the Hidden Path's base to touch base with Cere and learn more about this Tanalorr place. It seemed intriguing, but you were still on the fence if such a place could even exist.

Now here you stand, staring yourself down in the mirror, filling up another glass of water. As soon as you turn off the tap, a very faint and quiet noise echoes throughout the halls. Curious, you open the door, the noise just becoming ever so slightly louder. Time to investigate!

---

Cal twists and turns in his guest bed, his entire upper body reddened. Soft moans escape his lips. He was burning, and he couldn't bring himself to wake up. Hell, he didn't want to wake up. This was the best dream he had ever had!

You had surprised him with a night for just the two of you, walking through the forests on a planet he could not name. The trees towered above you, vibrant with their green leaves. They bring in just enough light to highlight the rugged dirt path. You both were holding hands, just enjoying each other presence. Now, the dream changed, and it most definitely explains Cal's reddened complexion as he lies in bed.

You're now hovering over him, in a beautiful matching set, perfectly complementing your skin tone. Lace runs up and down your body, showing off your curves and parts that Cal only wishes he could actually touch. You leaned in for a passionate kiss, straddling the man. He could basically feel you in his subconscious.

---

The sounds started to become louder the closer you got to you and the guest bedroom next door. Who was staying in there again? Is that Cal? You tip toe up to the door, placing an ear beside it. Yep, that's him, is he alright? You knock quietly, waiting for a response. The response never came. You knock a bit louder this time. A gasp fills the room, as well as some frantic shuffling.

"Cal?" You whisper to the door, the shuffling stopping immediately. "Are you alright?"

"Come in," He blurted, immediately regretting it. You hesitantly open the door, the light from the hallway showing a line of brightness on the man. He's sitting against the headboard, the blankets ruffled around his crotch and legs.

"Nightmares?" You ask, taking a step in and quietly closing the door behind you. "Would you like to talk about it?" You squint your eyes to get a better look at him, your eyes still adjusting to the dark. His are as wide as possible, extremely dilated from the darkness and the dream.

"I'm okay, thanks for checking, goodnight." He rambles, trying to sink into his bed. This only makes you more curious. As you eyes get more adjusted, you notice that his cheeks match his hair.

"Oh," You realize, blushing as well. "My apologizes." You giggle, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. "Who?" Cal just blinks.

"What?"

"Who was it! Mr. Jedi, Mr. I can't ever think about another person in a romantic or sexual way." You tease, playfully hitting his foot. He purses his lips together, causing your grin to only become greater. "Oh, come on Cal! This is big! Who?"

"Why is it so important?" He grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Oh my god, do I know them?" You cross your legs, fully facing the clearly embarrassed Jedi. He rolls his eyes, but the redness only darkens and spreads. You giggle gleefully. You hum, trying to think of who it could be.

You really hoped it was you. For months you've been trying to hint to him about your feelings, sometimes very vague, but other times very blunt. The rest of the crew caught on immediately, but the gears in Cal's brain just didn't seem to click. You've tried asking about dating and his romantic life, but he always brought up the Jedi Code, making your want for him only increase. You've had dreams, dreams of you being together, living through the rebellion, being together, domestically and intimately.

You're expression must softened as you were thinking because Cal coughed to get your attention. Now it was your turn to blush.

"You going to guess or let me go back to sleep?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. Now, you had a choice. Respect his want to go back to bed and continue about life, or be VERY BLUNT. You were tired, so there was only one right option.

"Was it me?" You ask, glancing around the room, trying to not meet his gaze. Cal's breath hitched, the blanket becoming too hot for his body. From the lack of response, you also started to heat up, clearing your throat. From the lack of response, you could only assume it was you. You. YOU?

You whip your head to face him, locking eyes. You... He wanted... you. You honestly couldn't believe it.

"Was it just a dream?" You mumble, Cal giving a questioning expression as you shift in your seated position. "Or do you actually have feelings?" You vulnerability seemed to easy Cal a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. He wanted to say the truth, but he didn't want to make it weird. Would it be weird? Eh, tonight was the "going for it" kinda night.

"Months." He simply states, trying to relax against his headboard. You perked your head up from your gaze into your lap. You cheeks redden, your breathing quickens, and something feels, different. The atmosphere feels intoxicating, but in a you shouldn't leave way. With the prolonged eye contact, you feel ass if Cal notices the feeling as well. You notice his hand are now at his sides, and there's an obvious lump by his lap. That weird feeling starts from your stomach and falls down your body, closer to your belly button.

"Months?" You repeat, raising an eyebrow. He purses his lips and nods. You hum. "Well..." You both grow silent, quiet. This had to be the quietest you too had ever been with each other. You waited for each other to make a move, but in all honesty, Cal was too vulnerable, physically. You start to feel the awkwardness subside and you feel yourself giggle.

"Hey, it's not funny." Cal frowns, while you shake your head.

"No, of course not." You compose yourself, scooting closer to the red head. "It's funny that we are telling each other we like each other with your dick out." Cal's face reddens completely, trying to compose himself as he places his hands over his lap. You outstretch your arms, pushing his hands away, causing the freckled man's eyes to widen dramatically. "Need any help?"

Cal practically springs up at you, locking your lips together in the most "I need you" kiss you've ever experienced. It was HOT. Like, you already started to sweat as your tongues fought each other. You needed him, you needed him so badly. He could feel that need from you, he wanted to provide that for you more than his dreams ever could. He pulled your up and into his lap, never once breaking the kiss. Your clit brushes against him, causing you to quiver in pleasure. He notices your movements and moves your hips back and forth on him, earning himself a quiet moan from you. He chuckles, retracting his lips from yours and goes for your neck. Your arms are around his shoulders, dragging your fingertips through his hair. You continue to moan and gasp into his ear, trying to stay quiet.

"You're wearing too many clothes for this," He comments, lifting the bottom of your shirt. You instantly comply, throwing it over your head and onto the floor. He goes back for your lips as you also tug on his shirt.

"Match?" You ask, giving him a small smile. He gladly follows through with your request, throwing his shirt toward yours. Your eyes wander down to his toned chest, scars and freckles decorating his body. You feel a fluttering sensation down there.

"Well if we're going to match you need that all off." He motions to the rest of your body, causing your to giggle and raise an eyebrow.

"You dont wear pants to bed, but a shirt?"

"Hey, my arms get cold. Allow me," He states going back in for a kiss. You immediately deepen it, allowing his tongue into your mouth to explore. All the while he waves his hand and your bra unclasps. Startled you pull away.

"Force?" You ask, tossing your bra away. He smiles, nodding, staring at you. He's never seen you like this, and boy was he going to enjoy and savor it. "Well, what else can you do?" He picks you up and slides you to be propped up where he once was, with the blanket still covering his lower half. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, but before he does any more, he looks up at you. This causes your to blush, appreciative of the asking for permission. The knot in your core only tightens, god he was hot. Nodding, he slips them down with ease, along with your underwear. He crawls up to your face, giving you more kisses. He starts to trail down your body, more moans and gasps leaving you as he goes over your bare body. Finally he reaches below your belly button. He places light kisses to your thighs as he opens your legs with his free hand. You're practically dripping with anticipation by this point. He continues to kiss you, going closer to your inner thighs and to your opening. Propping your legs open with his body and arm, he proceeds to trail more and more kisses closer and closer.

Your arms are clutching the sheets by your sides, the amount of pleasure awaiting you but just out of your reach. The amount of teasing is excruciating; you need him. You moan louder and louder the closer he gets to your clit. Then, he proceeds to rub his tongue around your clit in circles. Your breathing hitches and becomes irregular.

"Fuck-" You cry out, making Cal only want to do more things to you. You were already so wet that he easily slid a finger into you, causing you to moan. He pumps in and out of you, slowly, making sure to curl his fingers up into you. How he knew how to do this you'll never understand, but holy shit was he doing a good job. He slides in another finger, starting to pick up the pace. Your hips start to have a mind of their own, fighting against him to push him deeper.

"Tell me," he states, looking up at you. His chin is glistening with you, his eyes so dilated they were almost black. His mouth hung open slightly, totally getting off to pleasing you.

"Deeper," You whine, and he grants your wish. He pushes deeper into you, causing you to whine out in pleasure.

"Holy Shit, Cal," You cry out, breathing erratically. The knot in your core tightens more, needing to find a good time to release. He quickens the pace, leaning over you to bring your lips together. Oh yea, that did it. You feel yourself just let go and this amount of pleasure and warmth rushes over you. It's so much that you moan out more expletives and his name repeatedly. After your high, you just see him. You need more, and god did you want to get more.

"Fuck me," You command, and he obliges. Pulling you closer to him, he uncovers his member, resting it on your stomach as he gets situated. He pulls a pillow and rests it under your lower back to make sure you don't hurt yourself, and keeping your ankles over his shoulders. You couldn't look away from him. Even his dick was freckled, which was kinda cute, but all you cared about was him and the fact you needed him in you.

"Are you ready?" He asks, noticing he has his dick in hand, ready to line himself up.

"Fuck, please," You groan, already closing your eyes in anticipation. He slides in, both of you moaning in pleasure.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)," he breathes out, barely over a whisper. His head is tilted back, holding onto your ankles. Your hands are by your lower stomach, trying to feel him in you from the outside because holy shit was he filling you full. He slowly starts to pump in and out of you, fully in, and fully out. Every pump in, you moan in delight. Sweat rolls down the both of you as you fill the room with heat and the sounds of pleasure. He starts to go faster, holding onto your thighs to bring you even closer.

"Cal~" You moan, holding your hands to your mouth because you knew you were about to get pretty loud. Without much thought, he pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. You push up onto all fours as he makes his way between your legs, entering you once more. Your arms give out, pushing your face into a pillow. This was helpful for covering your moans, but Cal wanted to hear them as he railed you. Carefully, he commanded the force to pull you up, by the neck. At first, only gently to not hurt you but to get up. You clenched in pleasure, moaning even louder. So, he also tightened his grip. Damn, so this is what he could do. After a bit more relentless railing, you felt your core have that same tightening sensation.

"Cal, I'm gunna-" You moan as he quickens the pace, causing you to moan out.

"Me too, fuck." He whispers out, nearing his release. Hearing him cuss like that over you sends you over as you scream out in delight. You clench onto him and release, an explosion of pleasure ruptures over yourself. His force lets go of you, making your head topple into the pillows. He grabs your hips and pushes him all the way, releasing into you. It's such a warm sensation, filling you up to the brim.You both stay like that for a few moments, catching your breathes. He pulls out, his cum leaking out of you.

"Holy shit," You say in unison. Cal chuckles, reaching for his towel that is on a nearby chair.

"Here, to clean up." He throws the towel onto your exposed behind. You blush, cleaning up yourself as you sit up on the towel, just in case. You cover yourself with his blanket, a sudden chill running all over you. Cal slips his boxers on from a nearby dresser and sits down beside you.

"I never thought we'd do that," You state, leaning into him. He happily wraps his arms around you.

"I'm glad we did, because wow. Jedi's are really missing out." This causing a laugh to escape you, causing him to also chuckle. You start to stand, but Cal holds you down.

"Stay tonight?" He asks, motioning to the pillows. He smiles warmly, and how could you say no? You return the smile, shuffling yourselves under the blankets and heads on pillows. He lays on his back as you cuddle up onto his chest, wrapping your arm around his torso. His arm lounges behind and around your back, rubbing it up and down.

"Well, we can do that as much as you want," You giggle, cuddling into him more.

"I'd like that, but also the cute romantic stuff." He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your head.

"Maybe a date?"

"I like the sound of that, in the morning?"

"Oh, let's go to the bakery down the street, I heard the have wonderful food." You smile, your eyelids feeling heavy.

"It's a date, goodnight (Y/N)." Cal whispers, closing his eyes. You hum back, already falling asleep. The smile never leaves your faces, even as you dream of what the future could hold for you two.

#cal kestis #cal kestis jedi survivor #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x you #jedi survivor #reader insert #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #star wars x reader #star wars x y/n #star wars x you #y/n #smut

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uncpanda · 10 months

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Found Out

AN: The Law and Order SVU and Batman crossover no one, absolutely no one asked for, but I still wrote. Cause I can ;)

Warnings: Mentions of serial killers. Nothing graphic.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

For being some of the smartest, most intelligent, detectives in the world, the superheros in your life are fairly oblivious. And on some level you’re really thankful for that. It allows you the freedom to do your job without their henpecking.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, the people you work with, your second family, are some of the kindest, most intelligent, and hardworking detectives you’ve ever met, but they’re also oblivious to the fact that you’re married to a billionaire.

You had never really meant to keep the worlds separate. It had started off innocent enough, you’d joined NYPD as a beat cop while Bruce was out studying to become the Bat. And when he got home you’d spent every spare minute helping him. Between that and the company he’d been too exhausted to ask anything other than a few questions about your job. He knew you worked for a large organization in NYC and that was it. He trusted you. And the boys were just as oblivious as their father. The only person who knew was Alfred. He’d been the once to come to your graduation from the academy while Bruce was still away.

On the flip side, your SVU family knew very little about your home life. They knew you were married, they knew you had kids, but they didn’t know how many. After all, you’d only had the two pregnancies; Terry and Matt had both been big but welcome surprises. Then again ALL of your boys were surprises. And you had perfected your technique of avoiding the paparazzi for both SVU and Gotham High Society.

Honestly, in your mind, there was no reason at all for your two worlds to meld. When you were at home, you took care of your family; when you were at work you tried really hard not to think of them, because despite crime fighting, you didn’t want them anywhere near these types of crimes.

Of course, nothing lasts forever, but you figure twenty years is a good run, especially when Bruce is driving Dick away for his desire to be a cop. You watch them go back and forth for hours, before you finally step in. There are groans from the other boys about stopping the fight while Cass just grins, and you ignore all of them.

“You’re going to stop this right now Bruce Wayne.”

His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, “You don’t understand Y/N.”

Out of the corner of your eye you watch Alfred roll his eyes in exasperation, “I understand better than anyone here.”

His hands go to his hips, and you know he’s about to dig a very deep hole for himself, “Sweetheart, I love you, and I know you work the computers from time to time, but this is different. There are guns involved and he’d have to work inside the system.”

“So?”

“You can’t do both; there’s too much to hide.”

You smile sweetly at him, “I don’t know, I’ve been doing both for the past twenty years. Then again, I suppose it might be different for me since I just worked the computers for a while.”

He blinks at you, and you know he’s connecting the dots. You ignore him, and turn to your oldest, his eyes wide, “While I understand you wanting to do Bludhaven, if you want to do NYPD, we can drive into the city together. Let me know, I have more than a few favors I can call in.”

Tim is the first to voice the statement, “You’re a cop?”

You shrug, “First grade detective, but I’m taking the sergeants exam in a few weeks.”

Jason stares at you, “Seriously? Are you joking right now?”

“I joined when I was twenty. I’d finished college early thanks to AP classes, went in as a beat cop, and after five years I became a detective. I’ve been working at SVU for the past fifteen years. They’re like my family away from home.”

You can tell there are more questions, but no one seems brave enough to ask them. You start to head out of the room, when Bruce asks, “Why did you hide it?”

You pause and turn to him, “I didn’t. You just never asked.”

As you leave you hear Alfred ask, “Would you like a shovel for the hole you’re digging sir, or should I just make up the couch for you?”

You go wait in your room, and lie down on the bed. A few minutes later Bruce comes in, and you look at each other. His brow is furrowed, eventually he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? How could I not have known?”

You smile at him, “I didn’t want you to know Bruce. I was on my own path, and I knew you would worry. At the start I told myself I would tell you eventually, but. . . you were so involved with Batman and you were doing so much good . . . I didn’t want to add to your stress. You were barely sleeping three hours a night at that point.

“Then we Dick, and I considered telling you but he needed us to focus on him, and after a while it became easier to excuse it. It became my secret identity. Are you mad?”

He lets out a laugh, “I dress up as a bat, and fight crime as a vigilante. I don’t think I can be mad. I think I’m worried.”

“About?”

“Us drifting apart, not knowing you?”

You shrug, “I’m me Bruce. I just also happen to be a cop. I see a lot of bad stuff, everyday. The last thing I want when I come home is to talk about it. Same as you guys. When I’m home I want to be happy, but if you want to know I’ll tell you on one condition.”

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, after a moment he asks, “What’s the condition?”

“You can’t involve Batman. NYPD is not Gotham PD.”

He nods after a minute. The two of you spend the night talking, you tell him about some close calls, you tell him about the one life you’d been forced to take, you tell him about your frustration. You tell him about Liv and Elliot, and how Elliot leaving crushed Liv, but she rose from the ashes to become a lieutenant. You tell him about Munch and Cragen, both of whom have retired. You tell him about Finn, Rollins, Amaro, Carisi, Dodds and Barba. It’s nearly six in the morning by the time you’re finished.

“And that’s the majority of it.”

You’re both lying on the bed staring at each other. Bruce has been largely silent, he’d skipped patrol, and only asked a few questions. A part of you wonders when his anger will hit; it doesn’t. Instead he says, “I am so freaking proud of you,” and then he kisses you. And you can’t help but think, that in a normal marriage, a normal family, this would have been a big deal, it would have broken them. In your family though? It’s another day.

You call out of work that day to catch up on sleep and spend the day with your family. The boys come up with a bunch of reasons as to why they should have realized you were a cop.

“You work really weird hours.”

“You never wore heels to work.”

“You never wore dresses either, come to think of it?”

“Is this why we own a penthouse in NYC?”

Jason is the one who asks, “Where do you keep your gun? I thought those weren’t allowed in the house?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s locked up.” Logically, you know each of your boys knows how to use a gun, mainly for the purpose of knowing how to disarm someone holding a gun. You still don’t want them anywhere near it. For that reason, it’s kept in a DNA safe in Alfred’s room.

When you go back to work the next day, you have your gun and badge on your hip. All of the men in your life focus on it. Bruce corners you in the kitchen as you’re pouring coffee into a travel mug and whispers, “You look sexy as hell with the badge.”

You laugh, and then you kiss him. You’re the one who drops Cass, Tim, Damian, Terry, and Matt off at school. Jason is in college, and he drives himself. Dick is still contemplating his options.

The fact that your family knows makes things a lot easier a few weeks later when Carl Rudnick and Greggory Yates escape from prison. You can hear the worry in Bruce’s voice, when he begs you to be safe and not do anything risky. You snort at that and he chuckles, “I know, I’m a hypocrite, but I’m your hypocrite.” You roll your eyes, because the big doofus, is in fact, yours. You also know he’s keeping a close watch on the man hunt.

Three days later Rudnick is back in custody, but Yates is still on the run, back to Chicago you’re pretty sure. You’ve gotten maybe five hours of sleep total in those days? You’re exhausted, but you have reports to fill out, and Chief Dodds, the commissioner and a whole bunch of brass are hanging around.

You’re in hour three of doing paperwork, when you hear whispers. Your eyes flicker up to find your husband smiling at you from across the room. He’s holding a doggy bag full of food, he’s dressed in a suit that costs thousands of dollars, and you know that people recognize him.

Finn leans forward, “What the hell is Bruce Wayne doing here?”

You hear Carisi whisper, “Maybe he’s dating Leiu?”

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing, because you sometimes forget it’s not common knowledge that Bruce is married, despite the ring on his finger. You avoid galas with the best of them after all. You call it the Batman tax; Bruce can fight crime and you don’t have to show up to stuffy dinner parties.

Bruce smiles at the laughter, before approaching your desk, he settles into the chair next to your desk. “Really? No pictures of me or the kids?”

You scoff, “Work stays at work, home stays at home.”

He frowns, “I’m getting you pictures.”

You don’t argue with him, “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you food. Alfred and I figured you hadn’t eaten.”

“I haven’t had anything outside of vending machine junk in days.”

He scoffs, “What happened to taking care of ourselves?”

You shrug, “I’ve been hunting serial killers.”

His face goes serious, “But you’re okay?”

“As okay as I can be. They got a few more people, our sergeant took a bullet to the shoulder, Rudnick is back in prison, but Yates is headed only God knows where.”

His fingers twitch, and you know he’s itching to do something, but he can’t. He can’t get involved in this too. He has all of Gotham to worry about and thanks to the league, sometimes he has to worry about the world.

He lets out a breath, “Can I join you while you eat?”

“Yes. You can catch me up on the goings at home.” You lead him past your shocked colleagues, and a room full of shocked officials in Liv’s office and to the breakroom. While you eat, Bruce assures you that the boys are fine, but Damian apparently butchered the hedges again. Clark was apparently being a pain in his ass too. The man of steel wanted your family to come to Kansas for Thanksgiving.

“I’ll probably have to work, use that as an excuse.”

Bruce grins, “This job has perks.”

You lean forward and peck his lips, “Lots of them.”

When you’re finished you stand up to leave and there is a room watching the two of you. You sigh, and Bruce mutters, “It’s good to know the vultures remain consistent.”

Chief Dodds is about to step forward and ask a question when you step towards Olivia, “Bruce this Liv. She’s saved my ass more than once over the years. Liv, this is my husband Bruce, remember I talked about him?”

She grins, “Yes, but you failed to mention he was Bruce Wayne.”

You feign nonchalance, “Did I? Hmmm.”

Bruce smiles, it’s the one that has everyone jumping to meet his every need, the one that says he’s as innocent as a choir boy, and he would be your best friend if you let him. You smirk at him while he shakes Liv’s hand, “Thanks for watching her back. The boys and I appreciate it.”

That’s when Finn steps forward, “That right, you guys have a huge family, right?”

Bruce’s brow furrows in fake concentration, “We have Dick who is twenty, Jason is eighteen, Cass is Fifteen, Tim is fourteen, Damian is ten, Terry is six, and Matt is four.” He looks at you, “How’d I do?”

“Perfect score.”

“We have a full house, but it’s nice.”

You nod, “Let me walk you out.”

You make sure Bruce gets to his car, you kiss him, and promise you’ll be home by morning. Once he’s gone you head back up to find everyone waiting on you, it’s Finn who declares, “You have some explaining to do.”

You sigh, life was easier when no one knew anything.

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chimkin-samich · 1 year

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Clouds full parts under cut

Act 2

Pt 1

Pt 4

Clouds Act 1:

Pt 1

Pt 2

Pt3

Pt4

Pt5

Clouds act 2 part 5/... 8ish??

(Tumblr i swear to god dont fail me now or imma throw everything out of the window please dont fuck the order up PLEASE)

#sundrop fnaf #sun fnaf #sundrop #sundrop x reader #sundrop x oc #sundrop x you #sundrop x self insert #sundrop x y/n #I AM BEGGING YOU PLEASE DO NOT FUCK THE ORDER UP #comic #clouds

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rqgnarok · 5 months

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leave a light on - nolan price

prequel for love you better now, but can be read individually

fandom: law & order, law & order special victims unit

wc: 4,735

warnings: canon presence of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, and hospitals. female reader.

summary: nolan's wife gets shot. he tries and fails to deal with that.

author's note below! masterlist / ko-fi / ao3

Nolan misses Liv’s call thrice before he calls for a recess.

The first two he’s stuck cross-examining the DA’s witness and he doesn’t realize how many times Liv has tried to get him on the phone until the third time she calls. He can’t answer, obviously– Judge MacNamara is lenient but not enough for Nolan to take a call in the middle of the day– but the call goes to voicemail and his screen lights up with Liv’s other attempts to reach him.

He immediately knows it’s bad. And he immediately knows it’s about his wife.

His chest constricts with his panic, breath catching and refusing to enter his lungs as his brain tries to catch up to the situation. The courtroom is suddenly too small and suffocating, his tie a noose around his neck.

It takes McNamara calling his name several times and the DA snidely wondering if the defense needs a minute for Nolan to somewhat snap out of it, pressing on Liv’s contact before the judge finishes adjourning for the day.

“Nolan,” she says, shaky.

Not Price, which is what he’d expect from his wife’s coworker. They’re all friends, sure, but during work hours they fall into the habit of keeping everyone at arm’s length. Not right now, for some reason, and Nolan is tiptoeing the line between fine and about to crumble on the courthouse steps from a knock-out panic attack.

“What happened?” Because something must’ve happened. His wife has one of the most dangerous jobs out there, life-endangering experiences being the norm and coming home not-dead being a good day. But if Liv is calling– if Liv is calling and (Y/N) isn’t…

Nolan has been psyching himself up for this day since (Y/N) first told him about joining the police academy. He’s still somehow not ready.

He will never be ready for this.

Olivia hesitates for a second too long and Nolan’s fear gets the best of him. “Olivia. What happened?”

Her voice cracks at (Y/N)’s name. Nolan grips his briefcase so tightly on the way to the hospital that his hand goes numb, nails digging into the skin of his palm until it’s red and tender.

The knot of anxiety in his belly doesn’t unclench despite the quick, easy ride to the hospital. New York traffic seems to be doing him a favor, but it isn’t the physical distance he’s worried about. That one at least he’s able to cross. There’s nothing he can do if his wife is… if she…

Nolan finds a sea of cops and NYPD blue as soon as he crosses the threshold into Bellevue, worried and talking over each other as they watch over one of their injured own. None of them are familiar faces and his panic increases tenfold, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears drowning out doctors, officers, and detectives.

Suddenly, the sea of people parts for her, and Olivia is in his line of sight, giving Nolan’s brain something to focus on other than the never-ending possibilities of what he might be facing here. She looks disheveled, shirt askew and vest still halfway on; her hair out of place, and her expression haunted, but no blood. There’s no blood on her and it's an important distinction for Nolan to make when she seizes his free hand in hers.

“Nolan,” she says, and her voice sounds like static, just like it did on the phone. It isn’t the line but Nolan’s brain filled with noise, like cotton in his ears and mouth and eyes stopping him from receiving the world clearly. “Nolan, are you okay?”

“What happened?” he asks again. Liv hadn’t explained, not really. She only told him that (Y/N) was hurt and they were taking her to Bellevue. You should come too, she’d said, and should had sounded more like need, which did nothing to soothe Nolan’s raising hackles.

Nolan’s breath stutters. He knows what happened, but he can’t comprehend it. The hand holding his briefcase is shaking. He asks once more when Liv only blinks at him, mouth open and no words coming out. “What happened?”

“We were chasing a suspect via foot,” and Nick’s there, too, by Liv’s side, like an apparition Nolan might’ve conjured. His brows are furrowed, jaw tense. “We caught him mid-rape and separated to cover more ground. No one had mentioned a gun during their disclosures, he wasn’t supposed to be armed.”

“(Y/N) caught up to him first,” Liv continues, voice dry, shaking her head. “He– Shots went off but we didn’t know– he must’ve known we were onto him. Got his hands on a gun after the first wave of assaults.”

Nolan bites the inside of his cheek. He tastes blood and thinks of his wife, and stops.

“She was alone for two minutes tops,” Nolan wonders if Liv thinks she’s being reassuring. “She’d been shot, we called a bus right away.”

“Where?” Nolan asks tightly.

Liv blinks. Nick answers, “What?”

“Where, where in her body was she shot, how–” he struggles for a full breath and only comes out half successful. “How bad is it?”

Silence.

“Did you– did you not see her?” he wonders, biting. Nolan turns back and forth between his wife’s coworkers, losing his patience. “Were you there, was she– Jesus, Liv, how bad is it?”

“The bullet hit her chest,” Nolan loses all fiery, defensive passion right then and there. His own heart stops for a second, or at least that’s what it feels like when his chest is engulfed by a pressing ache that numbs him all over.

“They took her straight into surgery,” Nick continues when Nolan doesn’t say anything to that, unable to leave his partner to the wolves. “Liv rode with her in the ambulance but there wasn’t– it’s in their hands now. They’re taking care of her, pal, okay? She’s getting help.”

Where was the help when she was alone chasing after a fucking criminal, where the hell were you, huh he wants to say; wants to shout and curse and point and make a scene, but the words get stuck in his throat and in the next blink he finds himself seated in the waiting room, still surrounded by cops.

God, Nolan thinks, pressing his fingers to his tightly closed lids. When, in their fifteen years of knowing each other, could he have seen this coming? The bright-eyed, furiously righteous kid halfway through law school and the pretty girl who took one of his classes as an elective, only to completely destroy one of his classmates during a debate that made up half their grade.

Nolan had watched, mouth barely open in amazement as quiet, back-of-the-class (Y/N) didn’t flinch while delivering the final blow and bringing her team to victory. She snuck out before he could talk to her– do something stupid like congratulate her with stars in his eyes and an invitation for coffee on his tongue, but it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter because the next weekend his roommate dragged him to a party and she was there, she was everywhere now that Nolan was unconsciously looking out for her. He ran into her in the hallways from one class to another, in the library, at parties and restaurants. It was like the world was screaming at him here! Here, look this way! Here it is, the rest of your life waiting for you! All you gotta do is look!

He’d been there for hours already, bored and annoyed out of his mind when he saw her across the room. After nursing the same red cup of warm beer and looking at his watch every couple of minutes, calculating the appropriate time to bail he saw her. She’d been leaning against a wall, her expression changing from concealed humor to disbelief to a laugh that had her hiding behind her hand, entertained by whoever she’d been speaking to.

Who it was, Nolan doesn’t remember. He doesn’t even think about the cliche of it all, how the world faded when their eyes locked across the room and (Y/N) gave him a smile, shy, shrugging and turning back to her conversation.

The funny pressure on his chest didn’t dissipate when he finally got a chance to exchange words with her. After the final exam, Nolan left the lecture hall and sat heavily on a bench by the door, catching his breath from the adrenaline of a month worth of study finally being over.

(Y/N) was there, too, smiling sheepishly up at him as she crouched against the wall, elbows on her knees. Her expression brims with shy recognition as she nods. “How’d you do?”

She was talking about the exam. Nolan’s embarrassed to this day by the time it took for him to catch up. His cheeks were flushed when he answered. “I’m, uh, not flushing out yet, I hope.”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Ask me after I’ve slept some 12 hours,” he sighed, messing nervously with his hair. “Things usually seem less dire by then.”

“Would some coffee do the trick?” and Nolan didn’t know it then, but (Y/N) was nervous, bravery swelling inside her chest as she asked him for the first day of the rest of their lives. In the end, she’d been the one to catch up to all the signs, all the serendipitous opportunities to finally end up where they were supposed to.

“Coffee can work,” Nolan, young and eager, said slowly. He couldn’t stop grinning, high with lack of sleep and the attention of a pretty girl. “You’re buying?”

“It’s only fair,” she shrugged, but there was something giddy about her expression that he still sees in her face to this day sometimes, bright and young. “You look like you’re about to drop dead.”

“And I still seem like worthy company?”

“I think we can pull a few good hours out of you yet,” a few hours, a few years; Nolan will be as sleepless as he was then on his wedding day out of pure excitement. They’ll have spent the night before the ceremony talking on the phone while they slept in separate rooms because their friends are sentimental little fucks like that and wouldn’t let him even kiss her goodbye before the big day.

He’d described the few hours apart as agony in his vows, had made the crowd laugh and (Y/N) cry with the sentiment, and he wishes he hadn’t now. He shouldn’t have said a damned thing, shouldn’t have manifested any sort of agony into their lives because now the illusion cuts off sharply, and then he’s back in the waiting room, a nurse calling (Y/N)’s name while he plays with his wedding ring and bites the inside of his cheek, staring blankly into the hallway.

Liv’s still there for some reason, as are some other officers and Amaro, while the others hunt down the man who landed their friend in the hospital. Munch had snapped at the Captain when he told him he couldn’t stay. Fin had to lead Amanda out of the hospital by the shoulders, too stricken to do it herself.

Liv and Amaro stand when they hear the nurse but it takes Nolan a few moments to gather himself back together enough to pay attention. She tells them, gently, “She’s out of surgery. She lost a lot of blood, but only some of the bullet’s fragments hit her heart. It was touch and go but the doctor was able to extract all of them.”

Nolan’s lungs open up and he gets the first full breath washing over his body since Liv called. He must make a sound, because the attention in the room shifts to him, suffocating and inquisitive. His vision blurs for a second, not because of tears but adrenaline, his heartbeat pumping in his ears.

“She’s extremely lucky,” she continues, and she’s looking right at Nolan when she says this, like it's supposed to help. Like that’s what luck means, almost-but-not-quite bleeding out while your heart is stitched up back together. “Most people with injuries like this don’t even make it past the ambulance.”

Nolan closes his eyes in anguish. He presses his closed fists against his forehead, elbows on his knees, back hunched. It’s almost like he’s trying to disappear into himself, away from the image of an ambulance opening its doors when arriving at the hospital only to be met with his flatlining wife, the sound echoing through his brain and overriding every other of his senses.

“There’s still a long way to go,” she continues, softer, realizing she’s hit a nerve. She turns to Liv and Nick, who are paying rapt attention even as Nick walks close to him to put a hand on Nolan’s shoulder, tight and steady. “She won’t wake up anytime soon. Her body needs rest and to recuperate from the most acute of her injuries. And the doctor would like to talk about next steps once she does.”

Next steps, Nolan thinks. Next steps, the only next steps he’s aware of are those that lead to his wife, the nurse walking him to her room. Olivia and Amaro trail behind him like a couple of guard dogs, standing alert for any sign of Nolan backing out or collapsing into his grief.

He just might. He feels queasy, nauseous with exhaustion and worry. But then he sees his wife, and, really, nothing else matters.

“Sweetheart,” he says, devastated, walking to her bed across the hospital room. “Oh, honey.”

Despite his eagerness to touch her, Nolan flails when (Y/N)’s finally within arms reach. She looks asleep for one blissful, hopeful moment, but then Nolan blinks and the light settles; the ashiness of her skin, the uncomfortable placing of her body, the blank expression devoid of dreams or nightmares or consciousness.

He’d usually be embarrassed to have a witness to such a personal display of affection, but not even Liv and Nick standing tall at the door can stop Nolan from eventually cupping (Y/N)’s face in his hands and kissing the apple of her cheek, lingering and gentle. He’s afraid of touching the rest of her, of jostling her too badly, but the steady noise of the heart rate monitor is a constant, loud reminder that (Y/N) won’t fall apart that easily.

Liv and Nick linger behind him, talking quietly amongst themselves in sharp whispers. It might or might not be an argument, and in Nolan’s mind it feels like both an eternity and a couple of seconds. He would kick them out if he could gather the energy to care about it. Eventually, Benson takes a few apprehensive steps into the room, seemingly having lost whatever fight she and her partner were having.

“We’re on our way out,” she murmurs. “There’s a lead on our guy, the Captain’s calling us all back to the precinct. But if there’s anything…”

She trails off. Nolan doesn’t answer, studies instead the bridge of (Y/N)’s nose and the shape of her eyebrows, tries to count her eyelashes and catalog the bruises on her face. Liv sighs defeatedly and reaches for him.

“Whatever you need,” Liv says firmly with a hand on his arm. Still, her steady presence is undermined by the way she keeps looking at (Y/N) like she’s already attending a funeral. Nolan suddenly can’t stand her, even if she rode the ambulance with (Y/N) to the hospital and kept her semi-conscious until the doctors took her off her hands. “We’re here for you, alright? All of us, Nolan. I’m serious.”

“Thanks,” he says, voice rough and cracked from swallowing down his panic and tears. He clears his throat but it does little to clear up his words. “Thank you, Liv. For everything.”

Her lips tighten in an unpleased line, but she nods and leaves the room with one last squeeze to his shoulder. He’s being ungrateful, the fact doesn’t escape him. Liv’s the one who found her, who held her hand in the ambulance before they drove her off to surgery. Nolan owes Benson his life.

The thought alone makes him so nauseous he has to clench his eyes shut, jaw tight, entire body trembling. God, what would he have done? What will he do, if something happens to (Y/N)? She isn’t out of the woods yet and if something goes wrong, if her body decides to cave in, if the wound gets infected, if there’s something they didn’t catch, if, if, if, if–

He lifts his head and catches his wife’s face, lax and motionless. Once again, the panic settles. He hasn’t gotten the chance to let it unfold the way it needs to.

“I finally got you on your own,” Nolan says, soft, careful not to disturb the semblance of peace in the room. (Y/N) doesn’t answer, no matter how badly Nolan wants her to. “You’re very popular. A tough one to find these days, you know.”

She wasn’t even supposed to be in today. Cragen had called mere hours after they’d gone to bed– at the same time for the first time in weeks– and Nolan had done his best to stay up after the phone rang and (Y/N) began quickly getting ready. She’d kneeled next to his side of the bed and Nolan had leaned in to kiss her without thought, an automatic notion he wishes he’d paid more attention to now.

I’ll call you when I can, she nudged her nose against his temple before pressing a kiss there. Nolan had already been half asleep at that point. Love you.

Love you back, Nolan mumbled, jutting his chin forward blindly. One more.

He continues as if (Y/N) had spoken. “You’ve got half of the NYPD out there waiting on you. The nurses are rioting, but I don’t think anyone’ll leave until you wake up.”

Nolan’s voice loses the battle, it breaks right at the end of his sentence and so does his composure, eyes burning with tears that for some goddamned reason just won’t fall.

“Please,” he begs to the sky, to God, to no one. “Please, please, please. Wake up.”

He presses his forehead to his wife’s limp hand maybe a little too harshly. Even if the skin is cold and her grip is nonexistent, the relief the touch brings Nolan has him sobbing.

An hour ago she was in surgery, out of reach and sight even if she was already getting help.

Three hours ago she was bleeding out in some alleyway in Queens, struggling for her radio to call for help. Seven hours ago she was kissing him goodbye, smiling against his mouth despite the dark nature of the sudden case because Nolan kept pulling her in for one more kiss.

One more, one more, one more, his pleads begs now. Wake up and give me one more, sweetheart, come on now.

“Please, honey,” he whispers, wet and nasal with emotion. “I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready yet, I didn’t– I don’t–”

The words don’t come. Nolan chokes, holds (Y/N)’s hand in his own, and breathes, breathes, and breathes.

—

Life moves on.

Nolan doesn’t cry. God knows why, but he can’t, his body on automatic while his mind solely focuses on (Y/N)’s condition. The nurses know him by name and he makes record time to the apartment and back to the hospital for showers and quick naps, some food for the little appetite he has.

He doesn’t even think to be offended when his boss places him on indefinite leave. Nolan can’t bring himself to care, he would’ve stacked up every sick day and vacation time available to stay at (Y/N)’s side as much as he could anyway.

The squad offers to stand guard almost daily, which Nolan appreciates, but his object permanence has gone to shit. Whenever he doesn’t have eyes on (Y/N) his panic rises again like a tidal wave, never quite crashing but dwindling whenever he sits next to her at the hospital, hand on her ankle or arm or somewhere he can easily look for her pulse, weak but steady.

It’s desperate, he knows, and more than a little pathetic, but Nolan feels like he’s allowed. Until (Y/N) wakes up to tell him he’s been worrying over nothing he will do as he pleases.

He talks to her. It’s another coping method that borders on delusion but no one has called him out of it yet. Not even Liv and Amaro, who have caught him more than once speaking quietly into the lull of the hospital room, holding his wife’s hand and drawing soothing motions with his thumb against her skin.

Mom drove into the steps again. The ones in the driveway? They were already loose from last time and now she has Dad driving through every Home Depot in North Carolina to find the right match.

Jill sends her best. Last time I saw her she was talking my ear off about her kid’s college fund. Apparently her husband lost half of it during Tuesday night with the boys, whatever that means.

Munch says he owes you 20 bucks from the Giants game from two weeks ago? Which is weird, because you haven’t watched a full game since, like, ‘02. Not like you’re missing anything, but still, your accuracy to outsmart Munch in his own line of work is pretty outstanding.

It helps. Or it helps enough; whenever he ventures over what they’ll do once she’s awake and at home together the illusion breaks and so does Nolan’s voice. He trails off, feeling foolish, the weight of his delusion pressing on his chest.

“It’s not silly,” Munch tells him during one of his visits, the book he’s been reading to (Y/N) resting on his lap. “It’s helpful and it doesn’t hurt anyone. You’re talking to your wife. If I’d done more of that back in my day then maybe I’d still be married.”

“To which one?” Nolan asks, his lips tingling with the want to almost smile.

Munch points at him as if saying yahtzee. “Exactly.”

He’s so sure it calms Nolan more than you’d expect. So far Munch is the only other person who talks about (Y/N) like she’s still alive and thus, the only one who doesn’t make inexplicable helpless rage wash over Nolan whenever they’re in the same room.

He’s the one with him when (Y/N) wakes. She does so in a panic, waking Nolan up from his uncomfortable sleep in the chair next to her bed. It’s a sudden flail after another as her heart rate monitor goes crazy and she doesn’t answer any call of her name, terrified and in pain.

It’s awful. Nolan doesn’t think he’ll ever forget how she almost tears at her stitches mid her panic while doctors and nurses gather around her and kick Nolan out with quick accuracy. There’s nothing he can do to help and he knows it, but he’s never supposed to be in a position in which he can’t help her.

He’s doomed to watch from a glass window, helpless, as his wife suffers without anyone to reach out to.

She woke up but had to be sedated, a nurse tells him after, it’s normal for patients to be unaware of their surroundings after waking up from long periods of unconsciousness. We still haven’t been able to determine neurological damage, so we’ll have to wait until it wears off.

“Kid, kid, hey,” Munch says, oddly alarmed after coming back from the cafeteria with two coffees and finding Nolan sitting outside (Y/N)’s room, crying into his knees. “What’s wrong, what happened? I was gone for fifteen minutes–”

Nolan tries to explain but the words get caught up in his throat, his grief taking over his sense of logic. She woke up, he meant to say. She woke up and she didn’t know where she was and I stood by like an idiot to watch her suffer.

After he’s talked down from a panic attack he says, voice a mere croak. “She woke up. They don’t know– but she woke up.”

Munch sighs, visibly relieved as he squats next to Nolan, squeezing his shoulder in support. “Good. That’s good, hey– Nolan. That’s good, okay? That’s one step closer to getting her back. This is good.”

He repeats those words to himself like a mantra. This is good, this is good, this is good, and doesn’t dare to close his eyes for something other than blinking until (Y/N)’s conscious. It’s hours later, deep into the night when she opens her eyes again, groggy and disoriented, blinking into the dark hospital room.

“Honey,” he says, quiet and so, so relieved. (Y/N) doesn’t appear to hear him and a flash of fear seizes his heart. He presses the button and calls for a nurse, edging closer to the bed. “(Y/N/N). Hey, honey, you with me?”

Arduously slowly, (Y/N) follows the sound of his voice. She blinks at him, gulping and saying, dry as the Sahara. “Nole.”

It’s the most glorious thing he’s ever heard. The smile that pulls at his mouth is unconscious, ripped from him almost against his will. He goes to touch her face, hands shaky and reverent. “Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.”

He offers her a drink and grips her hand all through the nurse’s examination, which she passes with flying colors. While she’s tinkering with her IV, (Y/N) asks him, “Bellevue?”

“Yeah,” he says grimly, thumb rubbing soothing motions against her skin, trying to infuse some warmth.

“Shot?” she wonders next.

Nolan hesitates. “You don’t remember?”

“Guessin’,” she slurs, tired, blinks getting longer each time she closes her eyes.

The nurse pipes up then with the same explanations she’s given Nolan the past few weeks: the bullet to her heart, the long-lasting surgery, and the even longer coma. (Y/N) nods in all the right places but her head rests against the pillow and her expression remains blank, like she’s not retaining any information.

“Anyone… else?” she asks.

“No,” Nolan responds, watching how tension falls off her frame when he confirms this fact. He wishes he felt the same, a selfish part of him wishes it had been someone else; Liv or Amaro or Fin here in this hospital bed instead of his wife. It’s true, even if the thought is followed by guilt. “No, everyone’s fine, honey. Working their asses off and worried out of their minds, but okay. It’s just you.”

(Y/N) hums and then promptly falls back asleep, breaths settling into an even rhythm. It’s then that his eyes water and his tears fall on the scratchy hospital sheets where (Y/N) lays. Oh, Nolan thinks, almost surprised by them. So this is what it takes.

Nolan bows his head and lets himself cry in silence. His breath keeps hitching, and the nauseating feeling of panic he’s been nursing for weeks finally explodes. He can’t feel his hands and feet, body numb all over.

The next time he looks up, hours later, is because (Y/N)’s reaching to touch his face, tender and shaky. He snaps to attention like a soldier called to his battalion, but there’s no trouble chasing after them, no bad thing happening for once. They’re okay, alone and safe in her hospital room while nurses and doctors and visitors keep passing by just outside the door.

“You haven’t slept,” (Y/N) croaks out as she drops her hand from where she’d been gently pressing at the bags under Nolan’s eyes, tired from that simple movement. Her chest rises and falls with breaths that are a little too labored, but her eyes are fixed on her husband, worried. “Nole.”

It almost makes him smile: (Y/N) worrying about other people while she lies with a hole in her heart on a hospital bed. Nolan would laugh if he were sure it wouldn’t immediately turn into crying again, but there’s nothing funny about this. Nothing.

“‘m alright,” he promises, weak and croaky and wet from previous cries. (Y/N) looks a little too out of it, but also like she doesn’t believe him for a moment. He amends: “I will be. And so will you. You’re gonna be okay, honey.”

happy new year!!! i wanted to start the year giving you a little something after being so absent the last couple of months and i've had this piece in my drafts for ages! it was originally waaay longer but i thought i'd end it on a happy note and maybe make a part two if anyone's interested?

anyway! i hope you guys enjoy what has become one of my favorite pairings to write and i hope you had a good time last night and a great 2024! thank you for reading!

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motherofdogs1010 · 5 months

Text

Laurel Sickness I (Sonny Carisi x Reader)

Summary: Laurel Sickness was a case of extreme, obsessive love that has been used to describe the new phenomenon that is sweeping the globe with no explanation. Individual are becoming just as mad as Apollo once was when he first set his godly eyes on the virgin nymph, Daphne.

Warnings: 18+ only, dark!fic, toxic behavior, gaslighting, dystopian society, dark!Sonny Carisi, stalking, stalker!Sonny Carisi, the world's messed up in this story, age gap relationship, forced relationship, eventual non-con/dub-con, Stockholm Syndrome

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Sometimes, in the late night when she was holding herself up in her dorm, Y/N would lay there in her bed and contemplate what exactly she had done to gain the attention of her friend's uncle.

She remembered meeting Maddie Carisi at freshman orientation, the two girls having been in the same major (nursing to be exact) and having instantly clicked. She had known Maddie for exactly three years before she was invited over to the Carisi Easter Sunday Dinner, her own parents were back in her home state and unfortunately, Y/N couldn't afford to go back home at the time, but now... now, she wishes she had taken up her parents' offer of letting them buy her a ticket to visit them.

She remembers the way the whole family had been welcoming, a loud joking bunch of people who were still in the Sunday bests; Y/N having made sure to dress in a floral, pastel colored dress that was off the shoulder yet she made sure to put a cardigan on top as to not show too much cleavage since Maddie had told her that her grandmother was quite the conservative Catholic. Y/N had been enjoying herself, enjoying the conversation and activities the Carisi family had set up for the kids and cousins to do when she had bumped in Maddie's uncle.

"I'm so sorry", Y/N had said with a apologetic look on her face. "I didn't see you there."

She didn't think of anything when their eyes met, E/C meeting blue and seeing the appearance of his pupils dilate when they met. She didn't think the surge reports on the news could happen to her, how naive she had been.

"It's alright, no harm done", he had said with a tight smile.

"Uncle Sonny!" Maddie had cheerfully said, "you're here!"

"Well, luckily, I was able to take the afternoon off", he said, his accent thick. "I see you brought a friend along."

He was a handsome man, Y/N could recall; he had his hair gelled back, he had quite a bit of grey in his hair yet it had only added to how attractive she had thought he was. He was much older than them, Y/N figured he was in his late thirties or early forties and he seemed to be accompanied by a blonde haired woman who always looked like she was permanently scowling.

"Oh! This is Y/N!" Maddie said, introducing her. "Remember, I told you my friend and I both wanted to get our Masters to become NPs? This is her."

"Ah, Maddie talks a lot about you", he said, "big plans you two have, huh?"

Big plans, that's what she had. So many big plans and dreams before Sonny Carisi crossed paths with her...

"My Uncle rarely comes nowadays", Maddie had told her later. "He's the new ADA in Manhattan for the sex crimes unit."

Amanda had been mad as of late, a cunt if Sonny was being honest because of his lack of wanting to have sex with her anymore. But how could Sonny betray his little doll face like that? How could he forsake the instant connection he had felt by having sex with another woman?

The minute their eyes had met at his family's get-together, he knew it was instantaneous, they were meant to be. Sonny didn't exactly understand at first the thoughts that were in his mind about the younger woman, the intense and sexual dreams about her until he was watching the news.

The dreams he had were not always sexual, no, sometimes he saw his life with her; her cooking at the stove with five or six little Carisis ran around their legs, she would laugh as they pestered her before she'd look back at him with a grin.

"Dominick, you're home", she'd said as the bundle of children ran towards him.

Another case of that new phenomenon, Laurel Sickness was in the news; a woman arrested after killing the boyfriend of the woman she had grown to become enamored with. Laurel Sickness was something that some were saying was global hysteria, people falling in love with a uninterested third party, chasing down their loves until they were able to obtain them.

"Our eyes met and I knew we were meant to be!" the afflicted woman sobbed as she was arrested. "She showed me our future together!"

Sonny's eyes had widen as he could hear Amanda calling him from the other room.

Damn all the time he had put into the relationship with Amanda, the arguments they had over making their relationship public or how attached her daughters were to him.

Sonny looked at the photo Maddie had posted to her instagram, a photo of her and... Y/N, oh, how did just thinking her name make his stomach clench and heat spread through him. The two girls were outside at a coffee shop, it was obvious they had been studying by the notebooks and textbooks, even their laptops around them on the table.

Y/N had her hair pulled away from her face, a happy but tired smile on her face.

"Sonny, we really need to talk about this", Amanda nagged from the other room.

Yeah, they were going to talk.

He just knew it was one that Amanda wasn't going to be happy about.

#reader insert #x reader #chubby reader #law and order svu #sonny carisi #yanderesonnycarisi #dark!sonnycarisi #dark!fic #dominick carisi #dominickcarisixreader #yandere #sonnycarisiimagine

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vilentia · 1 year

Text

Shared Sorrow

Harry Potter x reader

****

Summary: In the wake of tragedy, Harry finds solace and love in your embrace, navigating grief together and discovering a sanctuary in each other's arms.

Rating: Teen and Up (T)

Categories: angst, hurt/comfort

Harry stood in the debris-laden Department of Mysteries, his heart heavy with grief and anger. The loss of Sirius Black, his godfather, felt like a sharp knife twisting inside him. Tears welled up in his emerald eyes, threatening to spill over, as he clenched his fists in frustration. He felt utterly alone, the weight of the world resting upon his young shoulders.

But then, amidst the chaos, you appeared. You had been by Harry's side throughout the battle, fighting alongside him with unwavering courage and loyalty. As you approached him, concern etched across your face, Harry's tear-filled eyes met yours, finding solace in your presence.

You reached out a trembling hand, gently brushing away the tears staining Harry's cheeks. Your touch was comforting, sending a shiver of warmth through his body. He leaned into your touch, craving the support and understanding only you could provide.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," you whispered softly, your voice laden with sorrow. "I can't imagine how much pain you're feeling right now."

Harry's voice wavered as he spoke, his voice heavy with grief. "It hurts, Y/N. It hurts so much. Sirius... he was like family to me."

You pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him as if you could shield him from the pain. His arms wrapped around you, clutching onto you desperately, seeking solace in your embrace. The tears flowed freely now, mingling with your own.

"I know, Harry. I know," you murmured, your voice filled with empathy. "I can't take away your pain, but I'm here for you. You're not alone."

Harry buried his face in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in the familiar scent of your hair. His body shook with sobs, his heartache echoing through the empty chamber. You held him tightly, absorbing his pain, knowing that your presence alone could bring him some measure of solace.

As the tears subsided, Harry lifted his head, his eyes red and puffy, but filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you."

You brushed a gentle hand through his unruly hair, your touch a balm to his wounded soul. "You don't have to face this alone, Harry. We're in this together. Always."

A fragile smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips, and he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The weight on his shoulders seemed momentarily lighter, as if your presence alone could bear the burden alongside him.

In that moment, amidst the wreckage and heartache, Harry and you found solace in each other's arms. Your love became a beacon of hope, a sanctuary where pain could be shared and comfort found. Together, you embraced the anguish, finding a sense of contentment in the midst of the storm.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter writing #harry potter reader insert #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter and the order of the phoenix #harry potter angst #harry potter story #harry potter drabble #harry potter fic #harry potter fluff #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter blurb

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friendsoup · 6 months

Note

Hi!! I love your writing and i saw request open though i not sure if you write for medicine pocket. If you do, could you medicine pocket and dikke separately with a usually shy and quiet gn reader that have a secret crush on them and indirectly confess by complaining while in the middle of the battle how reader think medi and dikke are prettier than reader and how amazing they are etc because reader accidentally inhale digger's bubble that cause reader drunk? I sorry if this is confusing but digger bubble seem to cause people high or drunk like so i think that be funny senerio

Sober Thoughts...

Recipe: Romantic confession, Drunk!Reader, Reader x Medicine Pocket, Reader x Dikke, GN! Reader, Lots of bullying Digger..., Reader uses they/them pronouns, tsundere Medicine Pocket..... WC: 1,610 Chef's Note: I'm still learning to write Medicine Pocket, so hopefully this wasn't too bad... Reader acts more like a drunk person in the Dikke version than in the Medicine Pocket version. I hope this is what you wanted, anon!!

The fight was getting boring. You, Digger, and Medicine Pocket were on the front lines this time, mercilessly smashing the critters that threatened the group. To be honest, you felt a bit of pity towards the creatures, an odd twinge of guilt twisting your stomach as you pummeled them without any trouble. It was simply too easy.

But you couldn’t afford to slow down on them. Medicine Pocket was here, and you wanted to impress them. Badly. You could feel their eyes on you from where they stood, boring into the back of your neck. They always seemed to stare so intensely at you, in a way that made your face go warm and your heart beat faster. You had a crush on them, though you’d never say it aloud. You were content with their stares and battling at their side. “I think that’s the last of them!” You called back to your team. You turned your head away from your foes to look at the group, confident that you’d won. It was right then, however, Digger had decided to blow one of his bubbles, which hit you right in the face. “Gah! Sorry! Wasn’t aimin’ for ya, dude!” Digger put his hands in the air, eyes wide with guilt. “You fucking idiot!” You heard Medicine Pocket squeal. “Don’t you ever look at what you’re doing!” They hissed, breaking formation to make their way to you. “Whatever. Let a real doctor make sure they aren’t poisoned, or anything.” “Sorry…” Digger muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “They shouldn’t be poisoned or anything. They’ll just be a bit loopy.” He attempts to defend. Medicine Pocket shoots him a look that makes him shut right up.

“Here, look at me.” Medicine Pocket tells you. You simply can’t, staring holes into your shoes. Your face feels warm with all the attention that’s on you, your chest feeling fuzzy as the bubble’s effects begin kicking in. “[Name]...” Pocket Medicine coos, lifting up your chin with their gloved hand. “I told you to look at me.”

Their yellow eyes stare into yours, and all at once you feel violently ill. They wear that same intense stare, like they’re studying you, picking you apart from the outside in. You tremble underneath their gaze, your knees feeling suddenly very weak.

“Gaaahhh, I can’t take it anymore!” You whine, lifting your head from their grasp. Medicine Pocket takes a step back, blinking in surprise, while you shake your head wildly. “I can’t take it! How are you so pretty?!”

“I’m…” Medicine Pocket’s eyebrows furrow, a quizzical look spreading on their face.

“Your eyes are like jewels!” You cry, dragging your hand through your hair. “Your face is so stupidly beautiful, it’s driving me insane!” You feel tears bubbling at the ends of your eyes. “Digger.” Medicine Pocket snaps, looking at the hippie. Digger hides behind his hands, as if attempting to disappear. “Explain this.” Digger attempts a smile, though he’s too worried for it to be genuine. “Some people get emotional when they’re drunk! They’re probably just saying whatever’s on their mind!” Medicine Pocket’s glare intensifies, as Digger shrinks back. “That’s stupid.” They exclaim. “Why would they think I’m-” “And smart too!” You shout. “Every time you talk, it makes me feel so dumb! I can barely understand you! How can someone be so brilliant?!” Medicine Pocket giggles at that. “Well, you’re right. I am very smart.” “And so skilled in battle!” You continue. “True!” They smile. “And so damn easy to fall in love with!” “That’s- Ah?!” Medicine Pocket’s face goes red, their expression paused in shock. “Is this a confession?” They ask, unsure how to react. “Every night I’m awake, thinking about how much I love you! Every time you look at me, I feel like someone’s setting me on fire! I want you more than anything! It’s so stupid! Why do you have to be so damn lovable?! You’re driving me insane, Pocket!” “How is that my fault, dumbass?!” Medicine Pocket asks, hiding their face behind their hand. “H-Hey!” Digger began, walking in between the two of you. “Let’s all take a deep breath! I think the most important thing is getting our friend here home safe. Look, Medicine Pocket, if you don’t want to deal with this right now, I’ll take them back to the suitcase…” “And have a asshole like you fuck this up even more?!” Medicine Pocket snaps. “No way! I’m taking them to the suitcase. I’m not letting you ruin anything else.” Grabbing your hand, Medicine Pocket begins to pull you away. “We’re going, asshole. Come on, dumbass.” They hiss, beginning to walk. Your face burns at the touch, even if it’s through cloth. Once you’re far enough away from Digger, Medicine Pocket begins to speak again.

“I guess… Your stupid face is pretty cute too.” They mutter.

...Are Drunk Words

Dikke wasn’t used to these types of teams. When you were put on board, she was fairly okay with it. Sure, you were a bit shy and soft spoken, but you at least knew how to fight. However, when Digger was placed alongside her… She had a few complaints for the Timekeeper. Complaints that she’d never hear, as knights aren’t supposed to complain, but she was annoyed all the same. At least she could take the front of the battle, and not have to worry about the two of you getting into trouble. She could block the attacks coming your way, and keep an eye on the enemy while Digger made his sorry attempt at an attack spell.

She was confident that the battle had just been won when… “Oh crap! Sorry!” Digger exclaimed. Dikke turned her head to see what the fool had done now, when her eyes fell upon you, swaying in place. Instantly anger filled her chest, as she shot daggers at Digger, who was already trying to shy away. “What did you do.” She demanded, spitting straight venom at the man. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I was just blowin’ a bubble, when they came out in front of me! Honest!” Digger explained, waving his hands wildly. “Enough.” Dikke growled. “Speak, you.” She shot a look at you, concern beginning to form on her face. “Ough, always so commanding…” You shot back, holding up a finger to point at her. “Youu… You gotta take a load off!” You told her, offering a smile. “Relax every once in a while, it won’t kill you!” “A knight does not relax.” Dikke argued, pulling a face. She’d seen this type of behavior before. From knights and peasants at rowdy pubs. She’d always hated those scenes, too loud and too dangerous. To see you wearing their behavior was uncomfortable. “Waaahhh… Dikke! If you frown like that, your pretty face is going to get wrinkles!” You blurt, crossing your arms. “It’s not good for your skin to look all mad like that!” Dikke’s face went red, her eyes looking anywhere but at you. “We… We have to fight. We can’t sit here and discuss aging.” “Fight, fight, fight, that’s all you wanna do!” You whine. “Can’t we just have fun? Just the two of us?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at the worried Dikke. “What are you talking about?” Dikke asked, glancing from the enemy to you. There was so much going on at the moment, she didn’t know who to focus on. As much as she wanted to comfort you, there was still a fight going on. “We’ll talk about this later.” She decides, brandishing her sword and turning to attack. “Noooo!” You cry. “Don’t leave me!” You stomp your feet like a toddler, feelings bubbling up inside you.

Dikke almost pulls back, when the creature slashes at her. Without thinking, she strikes back, pulling her sword through the critter. Black ooze gushes out of it, as it’s body falls into two perfectly halved pieces. “Woaaah!” You exclaim, clapping your hands. “Dikke, you’re so fierce! It’s amazing! You’re so beautiful when you fight!” What was going on?! You were just condemning her for fighting seconds ago, and now you were complimenting her fierceness?! Dikke’s heart rate was beginning to rise, her face heating with embarrassment. It felt strange to have a fan.

“H-Hey, [Name], chill out! I think you’re making Dikke angry…” Digger whispered into your ear. Nothing could be further from the truth, but the intense face Dikke was making was beginning to worry him. He didn’t want you to be caught in her crossfire. “Huh?!” You exclaimed. “I’m… making Dikke angry?!” Your eyes began to water, tears quickly falling down your face. “But, I only want to make her happy!” Digger took a step back, confused with the sudden shift in your behavior. Dikke’s eyes met him again and narrowed, making his heart leap to his throat. “[Name].” Dikke commanded, taking your cheek with an armored hand. “Cease your crying. You did not upset me.” You sniffle. “So, you liked that I called you beautiful?” Dikke jumps again, caught off guard by such a bold question. “I… I suppose it was… acceptable…” You jumped onto her, wrapping your hands around the knight and pulling her into a hug. “Yay! I’m so glad!” You cheered. “I love you, I love you!”

Dikke’s face made a deeper shade of red as she lifted you off your feet, holding you bridal style. “You cannot fight like this.” She decided, beginning to walk towards the direction of the suitcase. “I’’ll get you home safely.”

“Woah, woah, wait!” Digger shouted out behind her. “What am I supposed to do with the rest of these monsters?!”

“Fight them.” Dikke said with a sneer. “Or perish.”

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north-blue-hearts · 10 months

Text

Doctor's Orders

Character: Trafalgar Law Reader: Gender Neutral

Word Count: 1151

CW: smut, explicit, established relationship, unseen blowjob, no gendered description of the reader at all. 18+ only

Synopsis: Law has provided you part of body to make sure he doesn't over work himself. Story's mostly from his pov

Law sits at his desk in the Polar Tang and finishes up the last of his paperwork. All the supplies are accounted for, and the outside medical jobs they had done were paid in full. For the first time in a long time, he had a few spare moments for himself.

Before he could stand from the desk a sensation bubbles up from between his thighs almost causing him to gasp out loud. He could feel your warm, wet tongue licking along the shaft of his cock. He had handed it over to you willingly a couple hours ago, under the premise that you'd make sure he took a break from his work.

One way or another.

Being able to see you suck him off was always a treat, but feeling you without being able to see or hear you was a new sensation. One that was intense in its own way.

Gripping the side of the desk, his hips buck against the pleasure in vain, he can feel the rush building, and he can do nothing to control it. It was disgraceful, being so close to orgasm so soon, but you knew his body well at this point and you weren't holding back. It didn't matter how much he twitched or twisted; he couldn't mitigate what you were doing to him. All he could do now was brace himself against the desk and try to stifle the growing need to moan.

He couldn't even demand you slow down, you were in a completely different part of the ship, and your tongue was shattering his train of thought.

Heavy shuddering gasps are pulled from him, heat rushing to his face as his body tenses. Your tongue and lips shift around him, and the building pleasure plateaus. He can't force the shivering orgasm over the edge and you're keeping him right at the line. If he was able to reach you, he'd already be shoving his cock down your throat with hardly any apology.

"Fuck," he huffs into the air. Much more of this and he's going to have to hobble his way to your room. There was no telling how long you'd deny him if he just sat back and accepted it.

There's a knock at the door. For a cold moment he's worried you've walked from your room to his with his disembodied dick in your mouth.

"Captain, can I come in?" Sachi asks from the other side of the door.

Absolutely not. Willing himself under control, Law takes a few steady breaths and sits up. A hard suck on his tip crumples him before he can reply to Sachi, and he nearly slams his face into the desk.

Putting his arms around his head like he's been napping, he grumbles a reply.

"Make it quick."

The door swings open and Law glares at Sachi from under his hat. The smile on Sachi's face twists a little, and gives Law the impression he's aware of what - or who - is ailing his captain.

"We'll be at the next island tomorrow, here's the leave requests." Sachi says handing over a short stack of papers.

"Anything of note?"

"They requested leave for the first time." Sachi says and this time his grin is more knowing than Law would like.

"It's been a few months, it's not surprising." Law replies looking up at Sachi. "Anything else?"

Sachi's expression changes to one of worry. "No, but are you okay Captain? You look like you have a fever."

"I'm-." Law's body tightens against renewed pleasure and cuts his sentence short. "Fine." He growls through clenched teeth before relaxing a little. "I'm fine."

"(Y/N) was worried you were working yourself sick and it looks like-."

"Sachi." Law wasn't about to orgasm in front of his good friend and crew mate. "If that's all, then you're dismissed."

Sachi recognizes the tone of voice and stiffens before bowing and excusing himself. "Aye, aye, Captain."

The door closes and Law leans back in the chair, hands white-knuckle gripping the arms of it as his legs tense and twitch.

"Fuck, (Y/N)-ya..." His shivering voice fades into the empty room and even as he's getting ready to cum all he can think of is how much he wants to just rail you into oblivion. Pounding into that surprisingly sensitive body of yours filling you up and covering you with his cum until your eyes are hazy, and your tongue is hanging out of your mouth.

You, under him, too blissed out to care about the mess you had become. Begging for his cock to be buried wherever he pleases so long as you could scream his name in pleasure just one more time.

His hips buck into nothing as he cums into the air, your hand wrapped around him and pumping for all he's worth. Before he can even begin to calm down, he feels you push him into your mouth, sucking more out of him and nearly making him cry out.

The rush of pleasure causes spots to appear in his vision as he's panting heavily, sunk into the chair in exhaustion. He has a few seconds to catch his breath before he feels your tongue tentatively lapping against his tip, urging him to hardness again for another round.

"Hungry little pet," he muses with a grin. Expanding his room to cover the whole ship he finds you easily, shambling you into his room.

On your knees, on his desk, holding his cock, you look over at him with a cheeky smile, licking along the length. You're in nothing more than a collar, with leather cuffs on your wrists and ankles, lines of his cum drying on your face.

Standing up he hooks a finger under your collar and pulls you to his face. "You're dressed for more than just a simple break."

You lick your lips. "I figured you were done by now."

Gold eyes regard you, the amused and dangerous smirk sending chills down your back as he hums positively. A tug on the collar compels you to lean up to him as he leans down and kisses you.

The soft cool kiss pushes into you after a brief moment, and the captain's long fingers squeezing your ass and eliciting a happy moan from you. Catching your breath between kisses he pulls you in deeply, tongue pushing into you as his hands hold you tight against him. The embrace and kiss stealing the air from you as the heat rises into your face, making you euphorically dizzy.

"Your shore leave request is denied." He says sternly. You feel an odd pang, you were looking forward to spending a day on land with him and had hoped to coax him off the ship.

He grips your hair tightly forcing your head back as he smirks down at you, aware of at least some of what was going through your mind. "You're going to need a few days to recover from what I'm going to do to you." He promises, leaning down until his breath is hot against your neck, his voice lower than usual, heavy and full of promise and need.

"Doctor's orders."

#trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #reader insert #x reader #one piece fanfiction #one shot #Doctor's Orders

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knightprincess · 6 months

Text

Wait (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader)

Warning: Angst, Mentions of Death, and PTSD. Words: 2.5k Pronouns used: She/Her - No psychically description given Period: Ranges from Clone Wars to Rebels. Mentions Order 66.

Execute Order 66. The three words that ended the war, almost annihilated the Jedi Order and spelled the true doom of the Republic. It was the order that turned millions of clones across the galaxy from free thinkers to robotic killers, human droids. The order forced the clones to turn on their friends in the Jedi and murder them under the guise they were protecting the republic, a republic that no longer existed. It was the order that sealed their fates and traumatized every clone apart of it, far more than anything than being on the front lines of the war could have thrown at them.

For Wolffe, the worst was yet to come. He'd gotten away from the Empire after breaking free from the inhibitor chip control, he couldn't say for sure what had broken its grasp on his mind, one minute the part of himself created as part of the Sith Lord's plan was in control, he was in the back seat screaming for it to stop, fighting to stop what he was seeing. And the next he was in control, the voice repeating Good Soldiers Follow Orders had ceased, the dream-like state had faded, and the bubble had burst. Reality had hit him far worse than anything he had seen on the battlefield.

But nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming feelings of guilt, regret, and the crushing loss that hit him like a ton of bricks, just hours after he had settled with the relief of being free. Even now Wolffe couldn't tell you which of the three feelings was worse. The guilt was overpowering the best of time, but it was what motivated him to help the band of Rebels when they needed help taking Lothal back from Imperial control. He had to make up for his past doings, he had to make those mistakes right, no matter the cost to himself.

The regret for the things he wished to have done differently were things that constantly plagued him, the little things he should have done differently. Like being kinder to the shinnies when they came off the line, or telling Comet well done after a difficult job being completed. The missed opportunities to tell each of his brothers how much they meant to him, especially the ones who survived the war, but suffered a far worse fate. He truly did regret a lot of things, among them was not telling (Y/N) he loved her one last time, and not being able to truly save her from her broken mind.

By far the loss was the worst part of it all. Waking up from the chip's control to find the Republic was gone and he had helped to bring about its doom. To discover the Jedi Order had been destroyed, and he as well as his brothers had been the reason for it, the unwilling executioners that were forced to turn on and betray their friends and loved ones, only to further the revenge plot the now Emperor had been working from the shadows to see finished. The loss of Plo had hurt, knowing his last thoughts were questioning what was happening as his loyal troopers turned on him and shot him out of the sky, but the loss of his brothers was something else.

Those who got away from the Empire were met with two fates. Either they were left to fend for themselves in a galaxy that despised them and blamed them for what happened or they were hunted down and recaptured by those working in the Advanced Science Division. Either way, fate had cruelty in store for them. Either way, more trauma awaited.

Wolffe's fate after abandoning the empire was to be hunted down, as was Gregor's when he got away, and eventually those a part of the enhanced unit Clone Force 99, when their value to the Empire was truly discovered. At first, the battle-worn commander had gone out there alone, with one purpose. Find his beloved Jedi Knight, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). He'd heard the rumors of her survival, the stories on the lower levels of Coruscant of civvies taking pity on an injured Jedi, matching her description, they'd helped her flee the core world, to somewhere in the outer rim, and a few senators had aided in her escape.

Eventually, he found her, working with Rex to sow the seeds of what would eventually become the rebellion that fought against the Empire. A rebellion built on hope and sacrifice for a better future. A future she'd never get to see. Like with him, fate was cruel to (Y/N). It would answer her question about what truly happened to her best friend Anakin Skywalker in the worst way possible. A fate no one would ask for and was arguably worse than his own.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Zeb, gesturing towards the old mismatched-eyed Commander. Wolffe appeared to be staring off into space, not paying any attention to what was going on around him. Rex and Gregor had turned to their brother shortly after, Gregor noticing he held on to (Y/N)'s duel-bladed lightsaber, while Rex took notice of the hologram alight in front of Wolffe. The Jedi Knight and once hero of the republic who had stolen his heart. Both men knew Wolffe had lost his way when (Y/N) had been taken from him the first time, but he hadn't been the same since he had lost her for the second and final time.

"Give him time, he'll be okay" replied Rex, a sigh escaping him as he remembered (Y/N). She'd taken many secrets to her grave, unbeknownst to the Captain of the 501st, one of them she kept to protect him. The truth on who Vader truly was. "Sometimes the past gets to him, what the empire did and took away still haunts him. He's never gotten past losing the woman he loved" he worded, recalling when Clone Force 99, or the Bad Batch as they preferred finally found where Dr. Hemlock was stationed, when they infiltrated the base, hoping to find both Omega and Crosshair.

What they discovered was terrible, to say the least. Clones that once served the republic strapped down onto tables, tortured, tormented, and forced to suffer all in the name of science. Some were in tanks, others were left to die a slow and likely painful death. Others had been incorporated into Phase 1 of the Death Trooper program, to which the constant torture would have been far kinder. Among those rescued that day were Crosshair, Omega, Tech who had survived his fall, Cody, Wolffe, and Comet. Despite the best efforts, both Cody and Comet passed on shortly after returning to Pabu.

"That's (Y/N)" whispered Kanan, upon glancing to the hologram. She was one of the few Jedi the people of the Empire hadn't forgotten, remembered along with Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Plo Koon, Yoda, and Mace Windu. She was supposedly killed during Order 66 but eventually reappeared, being captured and taken Nur, nobody truly knows what happened to her there. For months many theorised she'd been killed by Vader or one of the inquisitors after being tortured for information.

In reality, the constant torment and suffering had done something far worse, it had broken her mind and shattered her will to continue fighting until she found strength in the dark side. Until she had willingly joined the inquisitors as the First Sister, second only to the Grand Inquisitor. She wasn't sent out to hunt very often, but when she was she never failed. More often than not (Y/N) was the one whom Vader called upon when he needed assistance with his mission to destroy what remained of the Jedi.

"Where is she now?" asked Ezra, not quite putting two and two together, or catching on to what haunted Wolffe every waking moment. Rex and Gregor could only share a common glance, knowing losing her once was bad enough for Wolffe, but twice was nothing less than cruel. Even when he'd spared her more suffering.

"Gone" grumbled Wolffe, his voice resembling that of a growl upon the memories he tried so hard to bury over the years came back. How his heart sank when he was rescued, learning (Y/N) hadn't been found since both of them had been captured. His refusal to give up hope had paid off, but it hadn't lasted long. When he was reunited with her, her once pretty eyes were the orange/red of the Sith, her mind twisted by the dark side and all she had learned to rely on was constant suffering. Her mind had become so twisted she no longer knew the difference between good and bad, and no longer recognized herself.

"When she was captured, the empire corrupted her mind via torture. She became an inquisitor" voiced Rex, recalling Wolffe's refusal to believe she couldn't be saved as others stated. Instead, he tracked her wherever she went, and became a thorn in her side even at the risk of his own life. When the opportunity arose to capture her again, he took it. Bringing her aboard the ship, he, Rex, and Gregor shared at the time, determination alight in his mismatched eyes, he was going to save her and help her heal, he wasn't going to fail her again.

"She's one of them?" accused Zeb, recalling his encounters with the pests known as Inquisitors. Although he'd admit he didn't know who they were before, just that they were out hunting for his friends, his family in Kanan and Ezra. Thrust they were his enemy.

"Was" corrected Rex, not taking any notice when Zeb fell into silence and Sabine glanced to Kanan and Ezra, seeing their surprise upon hearing one could stop being an inquisitor. "Wolffe refused to give up on (Y/N). When he had the chance to get her away from the Empire he took it, we tried for months to help her, and it worked for a time until it became clear they wouldn't let her go" he added, shivering at the memory of Vader hunting them, of the villages and towns he burnt and the innocents who were slain just to get to her.

"They killed her" guessed Sabine, not seeing any other fate that could have been waiting for the former Jedi Knight. Although the Mandalorian could only assume her death if it was at the hands of the empire, wouldn't have been quick. They would have seen her as a threat to them, those who rebelled against their iron fist rule would have seen her as a beckon of hope.

"No, I did" growled Wolffe, standing briefly before slumping back into his chair again. (Y/N)'s lightsaber tightly in his grasp, the only thing he truly had left of her now. A stray tear slid down his cheek upon remembering the day burnt into his memory. The four of them were on the run, looking for a way to lose Vader, and the Inquisitors hunting them, looking for a way to get off the planet. When it became clear they had no way out, when they became cornered, (Y/N) fought Vader and the Inquisitors off for as long as she could, all but ordering Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor to go.

But Wolffe had refused to leave, he couldn't bear to lose her again, lose another he loved. So he stayed at her side until she used her power to push him away. Speaking the haunting words of I Love You beforehand. The moment the former Commander of the 104th Battalion realized the inquisitors intended to turn her to the dark side again, he made the hardest choice. Once again he aimed his blaster, but this time at (Y/N), he closed mismatched eyes and pulled the trigger. He saved her from further torment, assured she would finally be at peace, but at the cost of shattering his own heart and being forced to live without her.

"It was the only way to save her" whispered Wolffe, knowing she was still with him. He felt her there during the moments when his PTSD got the better of him. He felt her hand on his shoulder and could swear sometimes he heard her voice willing him to continue his fight. He sensed her there during the toughest moments when he struggled with the past.

"That's why you went into hiding" commented Ezra, figuring the trio of clones hadn't just decided to "retire" due to their accelerated aging. They were among some of the best battle-tested minds there was. The rebellion needed them to survive, but it was becoming clear at least Wolffe needed a reason to fight. He'd lost his will the day he had to kill (Y/N) to save her from repeating the cruelty of being broken and twisted again until she lost herself once more.

"We know (Y/N) would have taken the opportunity to stick it to the empire if she was here" laughed Gregor, his golden eyes glued to the hologram of the Jedi Knight in question. To the hologram of the friend waiting for them. "She was a fighter, a shining light of hope we needed during the darkest days of the war. Let's not let her down now by sitting by and doing nothing"

"So you'll fight with us" questioned Zeb

"Yup" replied Gregor. "It's about time we remembered who we are, right Wolffe?" he added, nudging Wolffe who had since stood, the old Commander didn't pay much attention though, instead looking to the back door of the old walker. Where he could have sworn he'd seen a figure bathed in a blue glow standing. Where he saw (Y/N) standing, nodding with a proud grin, as if she was finally answering his call to see her again. As if she was encouraging them to fight for something they chose to believe in rather than something forced upon them like the Republic and Empire.

"You see her right?" asked Wolffe, too afraid to look away in case she disappeared again. Rex only offered a small soft smile upon seeing (Y/N), a guiding angel for them to follow, as she had been once before in what felt like a lifetime ago. A life that seemed far less complicated than the one they had now. Back then they were soldiers created to fight a war, to sacrifice. Now they were relics of the same past as the Jedi and the Republic. They survived the horrors the empire threw at them, abandoned and left to fend for themselves, broken and forgotten by the galaxy around them.

But now, it was time to rise and fight once again. Remind the Emperor why clones were created in the first place and remind him why they were better than the conscripted troopers he relied on to defend the weakening empire. This time they weren't going to be soldiers of the republic, commanders in a war they didn't choose. They would be beacons of hope amidst the shadow the empire cast across the galaxy, they were going to fight and sacrifice for a cause they chose to fight for.

Knight Princess Masterlist

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lacontroller1991 · 1 year

Text

Come Back to Me (Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Star Wars Master List

Author's Note: So I saw one edit on TikTok of Jedi Daddy Kenobi, and then I fell in a rabbit hole and now here we are again. If you guys have any requests, I’ll be open to them, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll write for them as I am a college student, but still if you have some, I’m more than happy to hear what you guys would like!

Warnings: Order 66, Blood, gunshot wound, canon typical violence

Word Count: 1.2k

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Obi-Wan treads through the hallway with his lightsaber lit in hand, an uneasy feeling settling in as he looks around and takes in all the various bodies on the floor. “Who could have done something like this?”

Yoda frowns beside him, a heavy feeling in his heart as he extends his hand, trying to feel any sign of life but lowering it when he feels none. “A sith, perhaps.” Yoda knows the truth, Obi-Wan does too, though he won’t admit it. Who had attacked the Jedi temple being the last thing he’s worried about, right now, his sole goal is to find you. Sensing Obi-Wan’s feelings for you, Yoda turns to the taller Jedi with a terse frown. “Find her, you must.” Obi-Wan doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s bolting away from the Grand Master and trying to locate your force signature.

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You let out a hiss as you try to apply more pressure to your wound but to no avail as the blood keeps pouring, sweat dripping down your body and onto the floor. When the initial attack had started, you tried defending others, tried fighting for others, but once you saw the familiar black cape of your lover’s former padawan, you tried to make a run for cover. Even though you’re a Jedi, and a talented one at that, you knew that you could never face Anakin; sweet little Anakin.

Not so sweet anymore, you think to yourself bitterly as you tighten the piece of fabric around your shoulder. Although you had managed to escape the former Jedi Knight’s view, you unfortunately hadn’t been that lucky as not even a minute later a blaster shot went straight through your shoulder. After having quickly decapitated your once ally, you make your way to the only safe spot you know, Obi-Wan’s quarters where you rest now, hoping to stay awake long enough to pass the time or for Obi-Wan to find you.

Surprisingly to Obi-Wan, managing to find your force signature had been rather easy. Maybe it’s because of the connection you and him share, maybe it’s because you’ve never been good at hiding it from him or maybe because you’re too weak physically to close it off; but whatever the case, Obi-Wan is glad that he is quickly able to locate you, in his room.

Sliding the door open, his blue eyes immediately land on your form, leaning against his bedpost and clutching your shoulder. “Oh darling.”

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His voice causes your head to turn to the door where you find him standing in the doorway, too scared to move. “Hey Kenobi, glad to see you safe,” you manage to comment as he takes your side, looking you over with his brows creased. “I tried to fight them off, but there were so many of them.”

“Shh shh, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” he comments to himself and you don’t know if that’s supposed to be to reassure you or him, but you don’t really protest when he moves your hand out of the way and holds more pressure onto your wound. “Who hurt you?”

“One of the clones. Took me by surprise. But Obi, it’s Anakin. He did all this.” Obi-Wan’s eyes close in grief and betrayal. What had he done in his career, in his life, to cause Anakin to turn to the dark side. Seeming to notice his turmoil, you took his face in your good hand, running a thumb across his dirtied cheek. “It’s not your fault.”

Obi-Wan looks at you with unshed tears in his eyes. It is his fault. He was tasked to train Anakin and failed. He tasked himself with protecting you and once again, failed. “Let me get you to safety.” Being careful to mind your damaged shoulder, Obi-Wan lifts you into his arms with ease and carries you through the door and out to the ship where Yoda waits with Bail and a medical droid. “We need to get her into a bacta tank.” Bail leads Obi-Wan on board the spacecraft before Obi-Wan is setting you on a bed, hand pushing back your hair as he looks down on you with guilt and pity. “I’m so sorry, my darling. I should never have left you alone.” He continues to pet your hair as you shake your head while the droid attends to your wound.

“Obi, you were only doing what was best for our republic. No one could have seen this happening.”

“I should have been there to protect you.” You can tell when Obi-Wan is beating himself up. You can also tell when - even despite his normal cool headedness - that he’s about to do something dumb.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re going to be okay. Okay?” Obi-Wan nods his head, leaning down and resting his forehead against your damp one, both of your force signatures wrapping around each other as a peace settles over you for the moment.

“I have to stop him.” He comments quietly, trying to control his body. If he’s being honest, he’s terrified. He’s terrified to face who he once called his brother. He’s terrified of what his brother had turned into.

“I know you do. Just please, please, come back to me Obi. I already lost so many people, I can’t lose you too.” He nods quietly before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead that he wishes could last an eternity before he breaks apart, looking behind him at Bail and Yoda (who didn’t seem bothered by the display of affection, lest he won’t comment on it right now).

“Take care of her for me?” Bail wordlessly nods as he walks away, leaving the three Jedi and the droid. Turning back to you, Obi-Wan gives your hand one last squeeze as you smile softly up at him. “Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m away.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” The two of you chuckle for a moment before silence falls once more. “I love you, Obi-Wan.”

“I love you too.” He gives you one last smile before walking off the ship with Yoda in tow. “I’m not sure I can defeat him, Master.”

Yoda mindlessly taps his cane as he shakes his head. “Defeat him you will, Obi-Wan. Trust in the force.” Obi-Wan nods his head in compliance, thankful for the elder Jedi’s words of encouragement and thankful that he made no comment about the confession Obi-Wan and you shared.

“I don’t know where to look for him.” It’s a half lie. Wherever he finds Padme, Anakin probably isn’t too far.

“Trust in your senses you must.” Obi-Wan nods solemnly, taking one last look at the ship and silently praying to the stars that you’ll be okay by the time he gets back.

“May the force be with you, Master Yoda.”

“May the force be with you, Master Kenobi.”

==========

Author’s Note: Like I said, I haven’t written for Obi Wan in a while so I hope you guys enjoyed!!!

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes @a-reader-and-a-writer @tavners

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan #Ewan mccgregor #star wars #Star Wars the clone wars #Star Wars revenge of the sith #the mandalorian #obi wan Kenobi series #reader insert #ben Kenobi x reader #Ben Kenobi #yoda #order 66

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novaonhere · 10 months

Text

Wait, What?

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: You’ve been traveling the galaxy with Merrin, taking a stop on Jedha to help Cere. She asks you to go pick up Cal and the Mantis and lead them to their location. Excited seeing each other again, old feelings are brought to light.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Fluffy, mild swearing from the author

A/N: Cuties

Prompt: "I ACCIDENTALLY TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU AND NOW WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT.”

(gif not mine)

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You take a step out of the shower. Today drained you. Cere tasked you and Merrin with pushing stormtroopers away from the front entrance of the base, but without killing anyone to lessen suspicion. Merrin used some cool space witch magic that you just had to gawk at from time to time. From teleporting troopers, to creating small, yet blinding sandstorms to push the men back. You’re job was to protect her and provide guidance. A few times you brought up the suggestion of moving rocks, making false pathways that loop them back, etc. Only twice did you have to strike down anyone, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

The steam from the shower had fogged up the mirror. You stare at the blurry reflection. Even though you couldn’t see your face clearly, you did notice the prominent dark circles under your eyes. Even after the steaming hot shower, your muscles still didn’t relax. Groaning, you rub your shoulder, turning to grab your freshly cleaned clothes. Standard Jedi uniform. Thank goodness for the breathability. Instead of a regular over-tunic, you placed a familiar poncho over it. Taking a deep breath into the cloth, you sigh, knowing the smell it originally held was long gone.

As you finish getting ready, a loud rapture erupts on the door.

“(Y/N), Cere needs you now.” Merrin calls through the door. You open it immediately, face to face with your friend.

“Do you know what about?” You ask, slipping on your last boot. Merrin nods, taking off at a slight jog down the hall. You follow, grabbing your light saber close to your side.

You both enter the archives, meeting Cere, who’s prime focus was one of the tablets in front of her.

“Ah, (Y/N), I must ask you of something.” Cere smiles, turning to face you two.

“Of course, what is it?” You ask, letting go of your light saber. Something about her smile seemed off, like she knew this was going to be… fun?

“I need you to collect someone from a rendezvous point. Leave at once.” Cere states, handing you a chip with coordinates. You study it from her hand before hesitantly taking it. “We have some friends coming for a visit.” You and Merrin scowl, raising your eyebrows. Merrin’s scowl is a bit harsher, not the most comfortable having to share already a small space with someone else.

“Merrin, please prepare 2-3 guest ro-“

“Cere,” You intervene, holding up your hand for her attention. “Who am I picking up?”

“Just go, young Jedi. You’ll know.” Cere shoos you away. She takes Merrin’s shoulder and leads them back down the hallway. Annoyed, you head towards the hanger to grab a speeder. From the coordinates she gave you, it was quite the journey.

Arriving at the hanger, you spot your ride. Do you remember the name? Absolutely not. This wasn’t normally your jam, big machines and what not. You enjoyed using your feet to travel, not much a speeder without a proper seatbelt nor safety precautions. You throw yourself up and head off into the desert.

—-

You don’t mind waiting, it soothes you to be alone in your thoughts. Finding a nice rock to lean against, you stare far out into the desert, watching troopers march along. Do they even know what they are fighting for? Who they’re hurting? What their future holds if they do or do not succeed? Sighing, you place your head in your hands, with your elbows rested on top of your knees. It’s be awfully hot without the wind. Taking a deep breath, you notice the wind pick up, unnaturally. You jump to your feet, peering around the rock to see a ship…

Your eyes snap open. Is that…

Stepping out of the ship is someone you most definitely recognize. The figure turns around to shout something back and a small droid appears. It runs quickly, climbing up the figure’s back. The figure steps onto the sand as the stairs fold back into the ship. It quickly takes off, most likely for a safer spot to land and hide for awhile.

You haven’t seen that face for many months. A face you would see daily. After meeting Merrin and bonding, you decided it would be safer for the two Jedi’s to split and one to escort Merrin around and teach her the ways around the Galaxy. You couldn’t be happier to assist Merrin, you grew closer; however, you couldn’t help but miss the red head daily.

The man turns towards the rock, looking at something in his hand. Most likely the coordinates, which lead to the rock you are currently hiding behind. Feeling the corners of your lips head up your face, you step out from the rock, the light now shining onto you. Geez it was hot.

He looks up, and drops whatever was in his hand. Time of course did not stop, with the sand moving and the wind blowing your hair, but damn did it feel like it. You stared at each other; one smiling like a lunatic and the other dumbfounded.

“We’ll look who it is on Jedah.” You call out, hands on your hips. He closes his mouth, shaking his head into a grin. “Let’s get a move on before the storm hits.”

“(Y/N)!” He calls out, the grin widening more and more with each step he took towards you. You match his energy, extending your arms out for a long deserved embrace. He wraps his arms around your waist, trying to not pick you up off your feet. He smushes his face into the crook of your neck, taking it all in. You giggle, your arms around his neck and head on his shoulder.

“It’s been too long, Cal.” You breath out, backing out of the hug. He laughs as BD-1 chirps for attention. “Oh I saw you too, buddy, don’t worry.” You pat the droid on his head, which beeps happily.

“Like you said, let’s get a move on.” Cal smiles, extending his bent elbow to you. Chuckling, you slide your arm through, holding onto his bicep. Together, you walk alongside the rocks, down the hill to where you parked your speeder.

“How is everyone?” You ask, trying to find his gaze. His once bright eyes suddenly gloss over, a small and quick frown coating his expression. Your smile fades as well.

“Let’s save the catching up to when we’re at base, is that okay?” He asks, patting your hand on his arm with his other hand. His eyes find yours, his filled with sorrow and weariness. You nod, looking forward.

Just as you were about to turn the corner to where you parked, you both had the sensation to stop. You could feel multiple presences beyond, not friendly presences. Looking at each other, Cal brings a finger to his lips, letting your arm go. You nod, brining your hand to your light saber in case something were to go wrong. Cal peeks around the corner. Multiple storm troopers had surrounded your speeder, taking it apart and looking at the pieces. You come up behind Cal, unsheathing your saber. He does the same, sprinting into action.

You both quickly beat the shit out of them. Cal keeps his saber out, keeping a look out as you tend to the speeder.

“Damn, they took a beating to this.” You sigh, exasperated.

“They probably wanted to make sure to trap whoever was here, you did hide it pretty well. Must have been coincidence that they found it.” Cal reassures you. Nodding, you look to the sky where you hade came from. It was filled with brown darkness. The storm was starting to catch up.

“Crap,” you breathe out. There was no way you’ll make it back to base walking. Looking around, you see a pack of spamel walking away from the storm, fleeing as well. “Come on,” You motion to Cal, jogging towards the pack. He follows closely, also eyeing up the storm.

Upon reaching the spamel, you notice one that has a few spots on its back. Smiling, you recognize this to be the spamel you saved from a few troopers just a week ago. The spamel recognizes you immediately, bending down as if it knows you need to hitch a ride. You turn to Cal, motioning for him to hop on.

He throws his leg over, bracing himself on the back of the spamel’s neck. You hop on as well. Without having time to adjust nor brace, the spamel takes off, causing you to lunge into Cal’s back, throwing your arms around his waist. You hands hold onto his toned stomach, feeling the indentations of scars he has endured. He turns around, smiling at you.

“Alright?” He asks, a small chuckle escaping his lips. The hot desert heat trickles up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You respond, tightening your grip as the spamel picks up speed.

—-

Periodically, you’ll glance behind you, noticing the storm creeping up onto the herd.

“Cal,” You tap his shoulder. “We’re not going to make it.” He cusses to himself, looking around.

At that moment, the wind picks up, sand flying up the spamel’s legs. The herd whines in fear. Suddenly, Cal lunges forward, pointing a bit to the right.

“There!” He calls out, the wind starting to drown out some sound. The spamel seemed to understand Cal’s gesture and noticed the cave opening, big enough to fit even the tallest spamel. The heard gallops to the entrance. You tighten your grasp onto the man, hiding your face in the poncho to protect your eyes and nose from the sand being kicked up. Cal does the same with his own jacket. A few spamel’s have already made it in, and it seemed like you were the last ones. You check behind to make sure you are in fact that last set as your enter the shelter.

“Cal, help me with the rock.” You call out, jumping off the spamel. He falls off with you, following you towards the entrance. Sand and wind flow into the space, hitting and scaring the spamel. You look to see a large rock to your left. Together, you roll the stone in front of the entrance as a make-shift door. You both sigh, as Cal pats you on the back.

“Good thinking,” He smiles as BD chirps in. “Let’s see if we can get a fire going.” He hurries off as you go around to the resting spamel, checking to see if anyone had gotten hurt.

—-

You sit just as you were before earlier, in your own thoughts. The fire flickers and dances beautifully, creating a warm ambiance to the space. The spamels are fast asleep on one side of the cavern, while you and Cal stare at the fire. He sits with a leg extended out and the other folded in, where he rests his hands.

“So, what happened to the crew?” You finally pipe up. You turn to see his face, which basically glows in the firelight. His freckles decorate his features, something you were always jealous of. His eyes remind fixated on the fire.

“Greez is alright…” He trails off, not wanting to discuss anymore on the subject. You both have lost too much in this war, friends, family, innocents. You scoot closer to the man, wanting to be a positive presence to him. He looks out his peripheral to your figure nudging closer. This makes him smile, a content, warm, inviting smile. You take this as a sign to reach your hand out, asking to be held. He agrees, interlocking his fingers with yours. His hands were strong, durable, beat up, yet soft and warm. You take your hands into your lap, using your other hand to trace over each freckles. You used to do this many times on the Mantis over the years to calm him down. Your eyes stay glued to your connect the dots session, while his scan you. It’s like he’s trying to memorize you, understand you and remember you.

“I missed you too much.” He breathes out. You look up into his eyes, which are melting at the eye contact. You smile, extending your hand to his face. He practically dissolves into your touch as you rest your hand on his cheek.

“I missed you as well.” You respond, a small smile leaving your lips.

“I love when you do that,” He absentmindedly blurts, causing you to giggle. He neck, cheeks, and ears flare up immediately, realizing what he had uttered. “I mean, of course I like you touching me, not like that don’t give me that look, I love our closeness, I love you…” He continues to ramble, but your focus ceased once you heard those three words. You hand slowly falls from his blubbering face, catching his attention.

“Wait,” You whisper, making him shut his mouth. “What?” You cock your head, staring up at him.

Silence. The only noise that could be heard was from the wind outside, the snores of the spamels, the crackling of the fire.

“Cal…” You whisper, your hands retreating to your lap. His upper body begins to redden, realizing what has made you take a moment.

“Did you-“

“Okay yes, I may have accidentally told you I loved you, and I’ve felt like this for awhile but you know the Jedi code but I guess now we’re finally talking about it and what that could mean-“

You chuckle quietly, watching the red head loose his cool. This was a side you’ve never seen before, and honestly, he was quite cute. You rest a hand in his thigh, again, shutting him up.

“Let’s save the catching up to when we’re at base, is that okay?” You repeat his words to you earlier to him. With that you lean your body in closer to him. Regaining his composure, he senses your motives and quickly leans into you as well. You lips meet. At first, very much head on, wanting to be as close together as possible. Just a simple, yet long lingering kiss. You pull away, but he is not satisfied. He places on hand on your thighs, the other around your shoulder to the back of your head, bringing you back in for a longer, deeper kiss.

You both stay there, kissing you feelings away as the fire flickers down. You both don’t notice, nor really care. Your attention is on each other.

You finally pull away for a long, needed breath. He does the same. You both smile, giggling just a tad.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” You start, sitting up straighter to look at him better. He clears his throat, fixing his collar.

“Well, you know the Jedi code.” He starts, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Cal, you both know the Jedi code is older than time itself and things change.” You giggle. “People change.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” He smiles, bringing his lips to yours once more.

You wait out the storm, falling asleep in each others embrace.

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x you #cal kestis #cal kestis jedi survivor #jedi survivor #star wars #star wars x y/n #star wars x you #star wars x reader #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #reader insert #y/n

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pastafossa · 2 years

Text

A Brief Existential Crisis (Matt Murdock x f!Reader; Fic)

Because this fluffy idea wouldn’t let me go so now you all get a drabble. Set in TRT!Verse but not required reading. SFW. Minor spoilers for ep 8 of She Hulk!

"She didn't know who I was," Matt said mournfully, staring blindly up at you.

"I'm sorry," you said, radiating as much sympathy as you could while also still kinda distracted by the Los Angeles weather report on the hotel tv. How was 68 degrees considered freezing?

"No one else recognized me either," he mumbled, his chest heaving on a great sigh. "All night. One guy even called me a gold ninja devil."

"Ridiculous," you agreed as he slowly edged his head further into your lap. You forced down your grin, which was especially difficult when his expression was so pitiful, not unlike that of a kitten caught in the rain. "Yes? What is it, beloved husband of mine?"

"You know what I want." He made a sad little noise, arching further into your lap until his head bumped your opposite hand where you'd settled it on your thigh. "Please, sweetheart. I need the dopamine after everything that happened."

You snorted and gave in, running your fingers fondly through his dark hair. You even made sure to scratch with your nails just for the way it made him purr and melt into your lap, his eyes rolling back as his mouth fell slack.

Unfortunately, this particular existential crisis was too great to be struck low but something so minor as your fingers in his hair.

"Is it... the suit?" he mumbled, the words just a little slurred. "Not... mm, mm.... recognizable?"

Honestly, considering the color, he's now recognizable from space.

It was just a good thing he was handsome enough to pull it off.

"You're always recognizable as the only Devil-based hero with any real charm," you said confidently, keeping your thoughts to yourself. You shifted your fingers to his temple, scratching at a new spot. You were rewarded with a blatant moan, Matt's toes curling in his socks. "Trust me. It's not you. It's them. LA is, uh... just... more focused on... its own thing. You know how it is. So fuck em. You're still my favorite even if they don't know you."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. And think about it this way. You might be less known, but that just means you're like, uh..."

"...I'm small-time," he sighed gloomily. "Just admit it."

"Hang on, I've got a comparison coming." You rolled your head up, narrowing your eyes at the ceiling in thought as Matt rolled over to burrow in against your abdomen with an exaggerated groan of sorrow. But there was no hiding his grin, not once you could feel it. "Don't suffocate yourself just yet."

He mumbled something unintelligible, and presumably tragic and martyr-y.

It took you a minute, but then you nodded. "Ok, I've got it."

He grunted, and tipped his head a little in prompting until you started dragging your fingers through his hair again, this time at the back of his head where the Devil mask always made him sore. The, "Mm?" he let out in response was glutted and thick, like the slurred purr of a cat on its back in a puddle of sunshine.

"You are basically one of those 'best kept secrets of the city' things," you said lightly. "All the tourists flock to the flashy stuff, restaurants that are shiny and get all the attention. But the locals know where the good stuff is, the quality stuff, and they know the best burgers always come from that one mom and pop hole in the wall. They don't tell the non-locals, cause someone might steal the recipe or buy it out. That's what you are. You're that burger."

There was a pause, and then he tipped his face up so you could see his warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That was very sweet."

"Thank you."

"It's also horseshit."

You groaned, rolling your head back as he laughed and dropped his head back onto your lap. "Come on, it was a good comparison!"

"No, no, there's no helping it. I just have to grieve my murdered ego," he sighed, blinking sadly up at you. Or your chin, really, but it was close enough. "There is one thing that might help me feel better, though, and distract me from my wounded pride."

"What's that?"

He hummed, licking his lips as he rolled onto his side, his head still on your lap, close enough for him to nuzzle at your abdomen. "I could eat."

Your brow furrowed. "We literally ate an hour ago. We went through In-N-Out. You were not impressed, you blasphemer."

He hummed, before leaning in and pointedly nipping the waistband of your sweats.

Oh.

"I'm hungry, sweetheart," he murmured, tipping his head down towards your lap as he drew in a slow inhale. "So hungry and empty where all my pride used to be. Can't I just have a little to help fill that void?"

"Oh my god, Matt," you choked out, two seconds away from losing it as he rolled upright to grab your legs and drag you down the bed until you were flat on your back.

"You're the one that chose food for your metaphor," he said with a grin, nudging your legs apart. "I'm just following my wife’s example."

"Oh alright, I suppose I could be charitable just this once. You did get spanked by a Hulk today, after all."

"She caught me. She didn't-"

"Spanked," you repeated gleefully, making him snort. "Want me to kiss the print on your ass and make it better?"

"At least let me eat dinner first."

"Fine. But I expect it as my tip at the end."

"Deal."

#matt murdock x f!reader #the red thread #daredevil x f!reader #daredevil #matt murdock #fic #fanfic #drabble #reader #reader fic #reader insert #she hulk attorney at law spoilers #matt using his misfortune in order to get sympathetic head scratches #and dinner while he's at it

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