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wonwoostoilet · 18 days

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Betrayal - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: months into the war and it's not as exhilarating as you'd hoped - not for your battalion, anyway. when the air conditioning in your compound blows, an old friend brings his tech genius of a padawan to fix it for you. while anakin is working, you convince his master to spar for old times' sake, and simple adrenaline gives way to a landslide of long-buried feelings neither of you should have for each other.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni, fem!reader, jedi!reader, reader is a general, sweat kink (? they are really sweaty and i talk about it a lot), oral (m+f receiving), semi-public sex (risk of being caught), sparring, lightsaber use, throatfucking, messy kisses, scratching/marking, lotsa spit, obligatory 'had you said the word' (sorry satine i had to steal his line)

WC: 16.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: sorry this took me so long to finish! i didn't have time to write for like two months but it's done now and i hope you enjoy it <3 this is set a couple months/a year into the clone wars, but i have chosen to fuck with their ages a little bit. in this, anakin is like 12-14-ish, even though he was older in AOTC when the war began.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Neglecting the option of taking a padawan under your wing is what stuck you on this humid, blazing, hellish planet, and you almost regret it. You’d wanted more freedom in your duties, didn’t want a youngling clinging to your leg begging for help with their rudimentary saber drills, so instead you swapped it for what you thought would be constant battle, exhilarating speeder chases, and the glory of proving yourself. Unbecoming of a Jedi to wish for, yes, but you’ve never claimed to be Council-worthy.

Now your butt is sticking to the chair you’re planted in, overlooking a very empty, very desolate, very boring outpost. It’s so hot that you think you’ve melted into the chair and fused with its fabric. Standing might tear your skin away from your flesh, leaving an imprint of you behind in your seat.

“General,” One of your clone troopers calls, sticking his head through the doorway to your station, “Nothing on my scanners.”

“Nor on mine,” You drawl lazily, “We’re scheduled to be inspected today. Any word from the crew?”

“None.” He laments, “I just hope they bring a droid that can fix the cooler.”

The base you’re stationed to isn’t always this disgusting. The structure is wired with an air conditioning system to keep the inside much cooler than the outside, but after a rather unfortunate incident with a freshly manufactured astromech droid with some crossed wirings, both lay broken and singed in the maintenance bay. Your clones don’t know how to tinker with droids or heating systems, and you’d probably wind up just as ash-covered if you tried.

“Alert me when they land,” You order the trooper, leaning your forehead against the cool metal of the scanner screen before you, “I want to have time to change into an outfit I haven’t soaked through with sweat.”

The scanner grows warm against your flushed skin far too soon. Everything is hot, and sticky, and gross, and you find yourself yearning for the cold showers you used to despise at the temple. Perhaps you yearn for the temple in general, for the familial atmosphere shared among overconfident Padawans and exasperated Masters. You think specifically of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a man you’d trained with, now Master to his apprentice Skywalker.

You haven’t seen the pair in years, but you remember Anakin’s blonde mop of hair, as well as his penchant for chaos. Watching Obi-Wan’s eyes fill with horror at whatever shenanigans his Padawan had gotten into that day was part of what helped you make the decision to decline one yourself, though you hold no distaste for the boy. He was simply young and untrained in the ways of the Jedi, and you were not a patient enough person to gracefully navigate that predicament then. You’re not sure you are now, either.

Even though you know you’re better suited on your own, you wonder if you’d have been more fulfilled with a Padawan learner of your own. Surely anything could be better than this, wasting away- rotting on a planet hot enough to boil your blood if you stepped outside without proper protection.

Your base is secluded and temperature-controlled, even if the contraption that the Republic had fashioned under pressure of time to keep you isolated is rather crude. It’s, in essence, a large dome, seals in place to ensure that vessels can land and takeoff without destroying the temperature control. It’s cooler within the dome than it is outside of it, but the hurriedly-designed system can only do too much, and you greatly depend on the air conditioning to do its job. Now that it’s not, you’re irritated from the heat, and you wish that the inspection team would just hurry up already. The patience you’d had drilled into you from your early years as a Youngling is nowhere to be found under the pressure of a heat wave, and your foot taps impatiently against the floor while you itch for some action.

You think it’s rather pathetic that you yearn for excitement so badly that you’re anxiously awaiting the inspection team. Their job takes barely an hour, a scan of your equipment and a survey of your troops. They’ll walk in and out without so much as a pleasantry, but you long for something new, something more, something exciting.

The call over your comms comes over an hour later, a time in which you remain at your post but begrudge it all the while. “General,” Your trooper barks, voice staticky and rough over the channel, “We’ve got visitors. Inspection team’s here. Initiating landing procedure.”

“Copy that,” You bolt out of your seat, barely remembering to lean over the microphone to reply, “Thank you.”

Finally.

Finally, someone new to talk to, even if they have the same face as everyone else you’ve spoken to on this long, dreary assignment. You’re friendly with your troopers, of course, but that itch for more is back in your brain, igniting you with vigor you don’t normally possess as you rush to greet the inspection team.

However, when you reach the landing bay, and the ship’s hydraulics hiss, clone troopers aren’t the only ones to disembark. Jedi robes make their appearance, shrouding the very man you’d just thought about, as well as the child by his side.

Obi-Wan wears the years that have passed since you last saw him, but time has treated him well. His hair is longer now, gone is that stiff Padawan buzz. His braid is missing as well, giving way to luscious strawberry blonde strands that he’s slicked back so that they drag against the back and sides of his neck. Longer hair looks good on him, just as it had when he was fifteen and had refused a haircut for months in a typical, if rather tame, display of teenage rebellion. Anakin is also significantly older than you’d kept track of, but he can’t be older than fourteen if his lanky limbs and awkward demeanor are any evidence.

Obi-Wan smiles at you, and you nearly forget to shove down that shameful part of you that wants to take more out of him than he can give you. Even as Padawans you’d always gravitated towards the man opposite you, sneaking out to roam the gardens after hours together or sharing sly glances across mission briefings. But he’s an honorable Jedi Master - a member of the Council itself, so you’ve heard - and you wrestle down your repressed feelings to grin at him.

“General Y/L/N,” He greets with a smile so charming you lament that the Jedi Order interrupted his chances of being a model.

“Master Kenobi,” You greet, but you know he’ll chide you for the honorific if you use it more than once, “I wasn’t aware you’d be on the inspection team.”

“We’re not. Technically.” Obi-Wan admits, arm coming to press against Anakin’s back and nudge him forwards, “We got word that your air conditioning system is out, as well as one of your new astromechs. Anakin here is still an excellent mechanic, I thought we’d come out to offer you some reprieve from the heat.”

Anakin looks embarrassed by the attention that’s fallen upon him, in typical pubescent fashion, and you take pity on the timid teenager, casting your glance back at his Master, “Maker, thank you. We’re melting out here.”

“I can imagine,” Obi-Wan laughs, and you turn again to Anakin who’s anxiously awaiting your orders.

“Anakin, if you could fix our air conditioning, that would be wonderful. Honestly, I’m not even sure I want the droid fixed, it’s what got us into this mess in the first place. But they’re both over there,” You point to the shorted out panels, “And my troopers will offer you any supplies you need, like tools or wiring or refreshments.”

“Thank you.” Anakin nods, hands clasped behind his back obediently even if he looks mortified to be the center of attention once more, “I’ll have things up and running as soon as possible.”

“I’m leaving you here,” Obi-Wan warns the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t often leave you alone with machinery and tools, Anakin, for reasons we’re both aware of. Promise me you will not do anything reckless?”

“I promise,” Anakin mutters reluctantly, and you avert your eyes so he has some semblance of privacy.

“I mean it, Anakin. This is no time to experiment with your technical prowess. You simply fix their system and you wait for me back on the ship, understand?”

“Master,” Anakin pleads, “I understand.”

“Very well. Get to your duties,” Obi-Wan dismisses the boy, turning to you only after he sees his Padawan crouch by the singed panel.

“He shouldn’t take long. He most likely will try to tinker with the astromech, though.” Obi-Wan smiles sympathetically, “He’s not one to leave a droid unusable.”

“I remember he had a particular talent for mechanics,” You muse, starting off towards the main base intent on leading Obi-Wan to your rec room, “If I recall correctly, he figured out how to inconspicuously rewire his communicator to give you an ‘unavailable’ signal if he didn’t like what you were asking him to do.”

Obi-Wan scoffs as he lets you lead through the doorway, “Yes, my Padawan has always had very selective hearing. I’m sure you don’t mind not having one of your own.”

“That’s one of the reasons I justify my choice,” You chuckle, letting the door shut behind you as you make your way through the halls. The base that the Republic had granted you is spacious, even decked out with training facilities and rec rooms interspersed throughout your rows of quarters, but it’s unbearably hot and you’re tired of being cooped up inside of it.

“This isn’t bad for a base,” Obi-Wan muses, robes swishing behind him as he strides beside you, “But I hope Anakin fixes that cooling system soon.”

“Try being stationed here permanently,” You scoff, tugging at the sweat-soaked neckline of your tunic, “I have long since abandoned my robes.”

“Do you have somewhere I could set this?” Obi-Wan asks, fingers catching the front of his cloak as he slings it off. It falls gracefully from his shoulders, and he holds the garment up as he laments still having to wear the rest of his robes.

“You can leave it in my quarters,” You veer sharply to the right, letting him catch up, “They’re just down this hallway.”

There’s unmarked doors on either side of the corridor, and you’re still impressed that each clone trooper knows where their bed is at night. Your door has a plaque beside its frame that reads ‘General’s Quarters,’ and you’re not confident that you could navigate the halls without it. You type in your access code, and the door slides open with a hiss.

“Just set it on the bed,” You gesture towards your mattress, “If we have some time, I thought,” You reach into the closet, pulling out your seldom-used lightsaber, “We could spar.”

Obi-Wan laughs, discarding his cloak onto your bed as his eyes crinkle happily at the corners, “You’re lacking a bit of excitement here, aren’t you, Y/N? There’s no way you’d duel me willingly after I took you down the last time.”

You’d sparred together since you’d been handed a saber for the first time. Sure, your initial weapons were wooden, then training blades designed to be duller than their more advanced counterparts, before you’d finally been granted allowance to manufacture one of your own. But there were no more dedicated sparring partners than the two of you, and you can tell the man opposite you is fond of the reminder you’ve given him, even if he is trying to tease you.

“You did not take me down,” You gawp, “I mean- yes, I was on the floor, but I wasn’t done! You didn’t win!”

“Mm, yes. I didn’t win because no one did.” Obi-Wan sends you a sly grin, “Anakin interrupted us, don’t you remember? We never got to finish.”

“Then a rematch,” You insist, gesturing towards the open doorway, “Once and for all we’ll prove who the better duelist is.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll win. After all, I can tell you spend every waking moment practicing and making sure you lose none of your fighting abilities,” Obi-Wan’s hand darts out to switch on your holotable, revealing an in-progress game of chess. You’re losing.

“I’ve only been using that as of late,” You snap, defensive, “It’s insufferable to train without proper ventilation. And only when I’m not on duty. I don’t spend all of my time sitting and playing chess.”

“Losing at chess.” Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow, finally stepping out of your quarters so that you can shut it once more, “Come, Y/N, show me to your training grounds.”

The training room is just as hot as everywhere else on the base. You walk through the doors and humid air greets you, something that wrinkles Obi-Wan’s nose and rustles his mustache.

“God, I hope your Padawan knows what he’s doing,” You groan, rolling up the sleeves of your own tunic but jumping excitedly into action despite the heat. You ignite your saber, slightly embarrassed by the thrill that the weapon gives you as it thrums to life. You haven’t felt this in a long time, at least, not paired with the thrill of battle. It’s significantly less awe-inspiring to ignite a saber against a training droid you know wouldn’t be able to singe your tunics if you stood stock still. Obi-Wan brings his to life as well; blue and green lights bathe your faces.

“I’ll go easy on you.” He smiles infuriatingly, cocking his head slightly to one side, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You jolt right, a fakeout before you dart left instead. He catches on rather quickly, though, and his blade clashes against yours as you aim for his leg.

“Nice start,” Obi-Wan admits, “But you can’t rely on misdirection for your entire fight. You’ll have to overpower me.”

“I could easily overpower you,” You swing left, breaking the contact of your two sabers, then jabbing so that he has to move his foot out of the way to avoid the plasma. He stumbles, barely catching himself against his back foot, but it gives you time enough to bring your blade up and around to nick at his shoulder, a hole now slashed into his tunic.

“Okay,” He stands straight, eyeing the tear in his clothing warily, “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Never underestimate your opponent,” You tease proudly, saber still ignited, “That’s one for me, Obi-Wan.”

“That doesn’t count,” He scoffs, standing at the ready, “I told you I’d go easy on you. Now I’m serious.”

“All I’m hearing is excuses,” You gloat, feet light as you step around him, “You lead this time, Kenobi.”

He does. He swings downwards, and you block your face with your own blade to stop him. He nearly jabs at your gut before you can prevent it, and you feel the heat from his blade as your own comes to block his.

You fling his weapon away with yours, and he lets you. After such a long period of no action (and shamefully little meditation) your abilities with the Force have grown slightly weaker, as have your regulatory skills. You can still sense what he’s going to do when he squares his shoulders, but you’re almost not fast enough to interpret those senses, and you barely make it to block him from swinging his blade in a fiery circle that would clip the edge of your arm.

“You’re rusty,” He taunts, his own Force abilities stronger than ever as his presence seeps through the cracks in your mind. You try to force him out, but it takes effort, and it’s effort you can’t expend elsewhere. It means that you can’t foresee his intent to aim for your face, and his blade hums inches away from your cheek as he holds it there.

You freeze; you’re caught.

We’re even,” You grunt, sweat beading at your forehead, “But we’re not finished.”

“Hang on,” He disengages his saber, letting the apparatus clatter to the ground as he tugs at one of the outer layers of his robes, “I’m going to shed a few things.”

“Stripping will not help your cause.” You tease, “I’m not distracted by sex appeal.”

Clearly, he isn’t expecting your jab, and he lets his mouth fall open as he slings off one of his garments, an incredulous laugh filling his throat.

“Y/N. You’ve obtained a foul mouth somewhere along your career. It certainly wasn’t in the temple.”

“It’s the clones,” You groan, “Try being stationed with a troop of grown men who went through puberty in record time. They’ve got the appetite of an adult with the filter of a teenage boy.”

“They’ve never tried anything with you,” Obi-Wan narrows his eyes questioningly, and you try to avoid looking at the sweat glistening against his tanned neck as he strips to his base layer.

“No, they’re respectful.” You assure him, “Just crass.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan frowns distastefully, “They haven’t had Jedi training. I suppose I’m not surprised.”

He stands there for a moment with only his undershirt covering his chest, then decides that it’s still too warm, tugging at its hem to raise it over his head.

You feel your insides ignite with a fire you haven’t felt in a long time when his bare chest is exposed, skin marred and riddled with coarse, wiry hair. His stomach is flat but not as tight as you remember in your youth, softer now. You can tell there’s an impressive layer of muscle beneath the milky white skin, though, even if it’s not outwardly visible. He uses his tunic to wipe the sweat off of his face so you’re granted a moment to ogle him, your mouth watering as you try to conceal your thoughts.

“Okay. Enough with this child’s play.” You shake your head, letting Obi-Wan have just enough time to toss aside his tunic before you plant your feet against the mat. Obi-Wan stands at the ready, both of your sabers ignited, “I want a real match. A long one, now that we’re warmed up. Best two out of three, Kenobi. Winner takes all.”

“Winner gets to stand in front of the air conditioning vent when Anakin gets it up and running,” Obi-Wan suggests, sweat trailing down his neck and over his chest. You avert your eyes, lest the fraile state of mind you’re in betrays you.

“Fine.” You shrug, reaching for the hem of your vest. It’s tactical, good for keeping with you on duty, but it’s etching lines of sweat into your back now. You sling it off, letting it land in a heap similar to Obi-Wan’s robes, and exposing the tank top you have on beneath it. “I know just the one I’ll pick. In my room, there’s one just above the bed. Maybe I’ll let it hit my back while I win at holochess.”

“I think the heat might be getting to you,” Obi-Wan cracks, a slight heave to his chest as he tries regulating his breathing. It’s hard when you’re as hot as you are to get enough oxygen, and you’re doing the same. It’s awfully difficult not to indulge in the view of his bare chest rapidly rising and falling, and you feel a tug below your gut as a vision flashes through your mind. It’s of what else could make him pant in such a way, and you can’t afford to entertain the thought, not around him. “I’m not sure which outcome is more delusional; that you’ll win this duel, or that you’ll win at holochess.”

“You’re wasting time,” You croon, charging with your blade poised for battle so that you have no more time to fantasize, “I think you’re scared.”

“Do I feel afraid?” Obi-Wan laughs, blocking your attack with little effort and redoubling to launch one of his own. The clatter of your sabers almost drowns out his words, “Reach out, Y/L/N, all you’ll feel is confidence.”

“I’m not sure I could feel you if I tried,” You lament, chest heaving as you block one of his swings, “Not while my mind is occupied with our duel. I am rusty, you were right.”

“Practice more,” He chides, “Less chess, more meditation.”

“One is a lot more boring than the other!” You groan, barely managing to get your arm up in time to take a shot at his own, “And the less boring one is chess, so that’s really saying something.”

“It may be boring but it is beneficial,” Obi-Wan lectures you, and you wonder if he thinks you’re still a Padawan. You fight with heaving breaths and monumental effort, the heat sucking your energy out through the sweat that drips down your skin. He turns and his back is glistening, which is really not a sight that helps you to stay focused.

“Now I’m starting to see why Anakin tinkered with his communicator,” You call, as Obi-Wan whirls around your left side, “You’re very dull as a Jedi Master!”

You have to throw yourself onto the floor to avoid a swing at your head, your right shoulder aching as you do so. But you scramble away from him, righting yourself and miraculously avoiding the blade of your saber coming into contact with the training mat.

You stumble to your knees, driving the forward momentum you have against Obi-Wan as he tries blocking you. You nearly get a nick out of his pants, but he pushes you backwards with the threat of his blade, and you fall with your back to the mat.

Your stomach drops when a blue blade hums hot and bright near your throat, its tip directed at your jugular. It doesn’t matter that it’s on its training setting; it’s inescapable and daunting when it’s an inch from your skin. You’re done for.

“I may be dull,” Obi-Wan pants, beard glistening as sweat streams down his neck. His chest heaves as he speaks, bare and open for your eyes, and his pink tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth to dart along his lips, “But I am victorious. Does this remind you a little bit of the last time we fought?”

It does. He’d been standing over you then as he is now, and you’d had to fortify your mind back then not to let slip vulgar thoughts about being on the floor below him. His thighs, meaty with muscle and strong from training, are hidden behind loose pants, but their crotch has tightened slightly, a chub to what should be a relaxed surface.

A pang of arousal shoots down your spine, and suddenly the lightsaber near your throat isn’t the most daunting thing in the room. It’s Obi-Wan.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as you lay beneath him.

“Your thoughts betray you,” He observes, and you feel his invasive presence in your mind, sucking out the private thoughts coursing through your brain. They’re of panting breaths, heaving chests, wandering hands, and meshing tongues; passionate embraces, intimate attachments. Things no Jedi should fantasize about, not under the code. Things that should bring shame to you, and maybe they do, and maybe you like it.

“Your body betrays you,” You’re able to muster, swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth as you glance pointedly at his bulge. It’s only grown since you’d last glanced at it; evidently your visions did something to him too.

He sees, or perhaps, feels what you see, freezes, then clicks his saber off. The blade retracts with a hiss and there is a distinct vacuum of sound where its humming once was. He breaks the unnerving silence with a clatter as he tosses it aside, feet still firmly planted on either side of your hips.

“It’s natural.” He weakly supplies, a poor defense, “It’s adrenaline-fueled, nothing more.”

“Really? So when you duel sith lords, when you chop the heads off of battle droids, you walk away with a stiff dick?” You carefully observe his body language, feet poised like he might bolt if you make any sudden moves. He’s flighty, and you have to make your next moves carefully.”

“Y/N,” He begins, his voice weak, “I wish you wouldn’t use such foul language.”

“Is it the language that bothers you?” You push your elbows against the mat, hoisting yourself up at an obtuse angle to meet his eye better, “Or is it the truth it carries? Obi-Wan, you were right. It’s natural. And it is not something to be ashamed of.”

“It is against the Code,” He reasons, his voice still fighting to sound resolute. He offers no other reasoning, and you know it’s because he has none.

“It’s not.” You insist, “The Code is ancient and rigid. And celibacy is not required, only a level head.”

“That’s the problem,” He chuckles weakly, “I don’t have a level head when it comes to you, Y/N.”

“You seem as though you do.” You press cautiously, careful not to push your luck, “I’ve never felt anything unprofessional about your feelings towards me.”

“That’s because I haven’t been around you in a long time,” He admits, “Not consistently. I was better at controlling it- no, hiding it when we were Padawans. I had to do it every day, it was natural to me. But I am out of practice now, and I have been since you were stationed here. I barely have the ability to hide how I feel about you, Y/N. And- and it is not something the Council would approve of.”

You sit up now, fully straightened. You’re still between his legs, but you’d need to rise to your knees for your face to be level with his bulge. You plan to.

“The Council is not here. Nor can they see us, or hear us, or feel us. They will not know what we do, Obi-Wan.”

“I will know.” He breathes, his voice growing weaker each time he tries raising it against you, “Y/N, I will never forget a thing we do together on this base. If we… If you touch me, I will remember every brush of your skin against mine for eternity. If you- kiss me, I will never be able to put the thought of your lips on mine out of my head. And I would not know how to live without it for the rest of my life.”

Your heart sinks in your stomach like a stone in water. He’s loyal to the Order, he always has been. But you’d been so blinded by isolation, so convinced by your own delusions, that you’d assumed his loyalty to you would be stronger. But it’s not, and you can’t earnestly be angry with him for it.

You swallow what little saliva has accumulated around your tongue to give yourself something to do, then rise to your feet.

“It sounds like you should walk away.” You mutter regretfully. His eyes hold the same feelings, strikingly painful. He nods, almost imperceptibly, but before he can follow your orders, you continue.

“But will you forgive yourself if you do?”

You feel it, his swell of emotions. Every single one is unbridled, yearning, heartache, fondness, want; all of them unleashed from the man whose mind is usually a fortress. They’re washing over you like waves, invading your brain and turning your thoughts their colors.

“No. I couldn’t,” He admits, “But-” and there’s always a but, “The Council would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

“They won’t know.” You insist, but it’s lost on him, “Obi-Wan, please make a decision. Who is more important, you or the Council?” Then in a more timid, soft voice, as his soft eyes bore into you and beg for mercy, you give him the opposite, “Who is more important… me or the Council?”

He kisses you. There is no warning, no shift in his Force signature, only his hands on your face and his lips on your own. There is strength in his touch, his hands firm where they pull your cheeks ever-so-slightly towards his face as if he’s trying to mash them into his own. His beard is rough and grating against your face, but it’s not unpleasant, especially when it brings with it his lips. His lips, which are much softer than you’d have imagined them, merely frame your own. The kiss is sweet but chaste, and the only indication you have that he wants more is the way that he holds you against him. Otherwise you’d mistake his courtesy for disinterest, and you tilt your head slightly sideways to encourage more enthusiasm from him.

When your lips reconnect he sighs, a breath from his nose that fans over your top lip. He’s letting you lead, letting you dictate whether you want to keep kissing him or whether you’ll suddenly switch positions; it’s like he’s afraid that you’ll rip off a mask and reveal yourself to be Master Windu, scolding him for his reckless passion. But of course you don’t, and you lick gently against the plush of his bottom lip instead.

He hums at the feeling of your tongue against his mouth, but he’s suddenly pushing against your cheeks instead of pulling.

“Are you absolutely sure,” He starts, but can’t seem to resist the temptation to steal another kiss from your spit-slicked lips, “That you- mm, that you want this? Because I cannot-” He breaks off with a weary, pleading, defeated look in his beautiful eyes, “I cannot turn back if we go further. If we proceed… I will not be able to forget what we do. If you’re not interested… please tell me now, so that I may save myself from loving you for an eternity that you do not wish to share with me.”

You scoff, moving in for another kiss at his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, only pushing you back so that you can respond.

“I just spent five minutes,” You pant, desperate to reconnect your lips, “Bargaining with you to get you to forget about your nerves. And you don’t think I want this?”

You try surging forwards again but he holds you back, eyes still begging for your words.

“Please. I need to hear you say it.” He seems almost self-conscious, worried you’re not interested in him the same way he’s interested in you. But you have been since you can remember, and you’re more than willing to work around the unconventional aspects of your relationship if it means you can have him, even just for today.

“I want you,” You breathe, the exhale hitting his lips, “Please- Obi-Wan, I want you. I want you no matter what the Code says. No matter what the Council says; I want you.”

He looks like he could cry. He is devoted to the Order, far more than you have seen most Jedi, and to hear you choose him over the Code must mean a great deal. He pours passion into the kiss you share, chest filling with oxygen that he gulps just to be able to keep his mouth on yours for longer. He consumes you, fingers pulling at your cheeks and tugging you closer still, like he thinks you might fuse if he tries hard enough.

He groans into your mouth, his tongue more exploratory now that you’ve pledged your devotion to him. He’s not afraid of taking now, of getting his hopes up only to be thrown down, and he swipes the wet muscle in a hot stripe over your own tongue. He rolls it against your lower lip, so wonderful to kiss for someone with such lacking experience.

“No one is coming,” You breathe, exhaling against his mouth as your hands wander to his waistband, “No one- no one can see us.”

“I want you in your quarters.” He protests, grabbing your wrists when your hand sinks to his bulge and ghosts over it. He jolts at the unexpected contact, but holds you back, “I want to lay you down, Y/N, I want to indulge in every part of you. Worship you.”

“I will let you,” You moan, tilting your forehead against his and mouthing at his lips in a sloppy kiss, “You may have me any way you want, Obi-Wan. But here, I- I want to have you. I need to have you now,”

“Impatient,” He notes, sounding suspiciously close to lecturing you. But he lets your wrists go, and you sink to your knees instantly. He hears them hit the training mat, knows they must ache, but he can’t find any part of him available to worry about it, not now that your hands are prying greedily at the waistband of his trousers.

He’s a near stranger to physical pleasure, at least in recent years. He’s a grown man, he has urges, but he also has responsibilities, and the constant pressure of an ambitious (read: reckless) young Padawan under his supervision mixed with a quickly-rising rank within the Jedi Order leave him with little time nor interest to indulge in his barest desires. Your hand gently squeezing his clothed bulge as you wrestle with his pants nearly knocks him off of his feet, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle having your warm mouth envelop it.

Finally you tug loose the drawstring within his pants, and yank them down his thighs. They’re seldom bare, you see from the milky white tone of the skin there, but they are muscled and thick like he does not neglect them.

You can’t help yourself when you lean forwards, tongue already protruding from your mouth to lick a fat, wet stripe around one of his thighs. It’s sturdy beneath your tongue that dips into the crease between his skin and the parts of it that are covered by his briefs. His muscles tense like you’ve struck him with a fatal blow, and an open-mouthed groan escapes his lips.

His skin tastes of the sweat that’s currently moistening every inch of your bodies, salty and tantalizing. There’s no escaping it in the brutal heat, but it makes him all the more sexy, his skin glistening before you even get a chance to smear it in your saliva.

You’re guilty of impatience as he accuses, and you can’t resist mouthing at his covered bulge. He’s half-hard, but when your lips purse around the outline of his cock in his briefs he twitches, and you feel him stiffen against the restraints of his underwear on your tongue.

His knees give out with no warning, and he barely has the foresight to grab desperately at a bench press behind him for stability. He falls quickly to its surface, perching on the edge of it while you desperately chase his cock. You fit your mouth again over his briefs and drool against the fabric, surely soaking it through with your saliva. His cock, though restrained, is heavy and thick on your tongue, making your mouth water and produce enough drool to soak through his entire ensemble. His hands clutch the bench beneath him with white knuckles, and he grits his teeth to stop himself from shouting as you suck at his clothed cock.

“Oh, Y/N,” He pants, voice strained as you get lost in your task and forget that you need to actually pull his briefs down. He reaches for your head, gently nudging you away with his knuckles against your temple.

“Darling, please, I can’t- I won’t last for very long. Please, have me properly.”

He grips at the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down hurriedly and letting his cock spring free. It’s of decent length, but slightly thicker than average, its base shrouded by a patch of curled hair at his groin. It’s a similar caramel color to the rest of his hair, and his sweat has accumulated particularly within its wiry constraints, leaving him musky. The smell might bother you if it were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, but here and now, on your knees for Obi-Wan in the training room, it’s the most disgustingly tantalizing thing you’ve ever smelled in your entire life.

That’s why you bury your face into it, the hair tickling at your skin. His hips jolt as you inhale deeply near the base of his cock, groaning and letting your tongue fall to drag against just the shaft of his erect dick. He’s painfully hard, embarrassingly seconds to orgasm, and your spit now glistening on his length doesn’t help. Or it helps too much; either way, he’s close to cumming and you haven’t even had a chance to put him in your mouth.

“Darling,” He begs, pushing at your forehead once more, speaking through an eternal shortage of breath, “Please, I- it all feels too good. I can’t take it. I won’t last long.”

“That’s okay,” You pant, your breath falling over his cock as it practically pulses with pleasure, “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Terrible,” He manages to chuckle weakly, but any further chiding he has planned for your cheekiness is cut short when he stops breathing. He actually forgets how when your wet mouth closes around the head of his cock, your tongue licking flat over its head and covering most of its surface area. It’s so much sensation so fast that Obi-Wan has to clench his hands around the bench not to cum right then and there, and he feels pinpricks of pain over his skin that he realizes are from his fingernails digging against his palms. When you draw your head back off of his cock with a slick sound, then move in again to take more of his length into your mouth, his lungs suddenly remember their function, and heave within his chest.

His groans are filthy and they only pool more slick wetness between your thighs as you kneel for him. You don’t care about the ache in your knees, nor the pain in your neck from the slightly awkward angle you’re indulging in him at. All that matters is his cock, heavy and thick on your tongue, sweat and precum alike flooding your taste buds.

His restraint is put to the test. He’s a member of the Jedi Council, for Force’s sake, and he should have a little more control over himself than this. But it takes almost all of his energy not to buck his hips forwards and plunge the length of his cock down your throat, and it means that he’s not able to devote as much restraint to delaying his orgasm as he’d like.

He’s twitching in your mouth, and even with your faded Force abilities, mental muscles weakened by disuse, you can feel the tension coursing through his veins, hot and wild. You don’t need to look at his strained, white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench to know that he’s devoting all of his energy to restraining himself, and you take pride in being able to undo Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi with merely your mouth. You indulge in his painful hardness, tongue smoothly caressing the underside of his length as you bob your head back and forth around him. Each time you draw back you flick your tongue up and over the ruddy, leaking head of his cock, something that makes that fiery tension in his body glow even hotter.

“I’m going to-” He warns you, voice petering out weakly as he tries controlling himself, “I can’t- I can’t help it, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum,” You speak in unison, your word coming out muffled as you speak it against his cock. You smooth your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles impossibly tight beneath your fingers. You stroke them soothingly, encouraging him to unclench his jaw that’s wired so tightly that you’re sure his teeth are on the verge of cracking, “Cum, Obi-Wan, please.”

Even if you hadn’t asked him so kindly, he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to withhold any longer. Not with your pretty eyes gazing up at him from between his legs, lashes latticing the tender emotions swirling in your gaze. Your fingers slide calmly, sweetly over the expanse of his thighs, and the mere thought of you digging your nails harshly into them and leaving marks is what elicits the final twitch of his dick on your tongue.

Evidently, you’re more in tune with his thoughts than he’d expected. You’d caught the quick image that had flashed through his mind, now completely unguarded to you, and you curl your fingers quicker than he can comprehend, carving searing marks into his thighs that will show up red for at least a week. Paired with the movement of your fingers, you suck hard at his cock, plunging your face forwards to nestle against the base once more. His tip hits the back of your throat with force and it makes you gag, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure what sensation is more overwhelming: the vivid burning at his thighs, the way the tip of his dick nestles so securely into the warm, wet sleeve of your throat, or the way that you’re breathing in his sweat-marred scent like it’s the purest oxygen you’ve ever had in your lungs. All he knows is that together, they’re his undoing, and he lets out a rugged cry; he can’t control himself any longer when pleasure roars through him with a fury he’s almost frightened of.

He’s always calm, collected, in control. But now he’s grabbing your face with shaking hands as he pumps warm spurts of cum down your throat, holding your jaw steady so that you can’t back away, not that you want to. He holds you in place while his thighs begin to tremble, your tongue continuously smoothing over the underside of his cock while it twitches in your mouth. He keeps himself fully nestled into the back of your throat while he cums, and if he had energy to be embarrassed about cumming as much as he was, he’d be apologizing. But he can’t, not when you’re swallowing him so eagerly, throat convulsing around the head of his cock and only milking more out of him. There’s obscene groans coming from his mouth, the kind that bring heat to your own core, and you think you could get off to the sound a thousand times over if you recorded him now. They’re deep, throaty, and desperate as he holds your face around his cock, gagging you on his dick as his orgasm takes control of him.

A part of your training that hasn’t left you yet was your extensive disaster training, in which you were taught how to extend the time for which you could hold your breath. That comes in especially handy when Obi-Wan’s hands cradle your jaw, keeping you snugly choking around his dick. You have to fight not to draw back at the strange sensation of your throat being plugged while his cum splatters against the back of it,, and you use all of your strength to keep yourself from panicking at the lack of airflow. You’re only slightly ashamed to admit that you’d willingly die like this, a fucktoy for his cock.

Once his orgasm has worked its way through him he seems to remember you can’t breathe, all of the tension having leaked out of his muscles. He inhales with a start, pushing against your cheeks and tugging his cock out of your mouth, “Oh, Y/N, darling- Y/N, are you-?”

At the sight of your spit-soaked lips, tongue desperately running over them to collect any of the sweat that had accumulated there from being pressed against his pelvis, he lunges forwards to meet his lips with your own. He can taste the slight savory hint of his own release, your tongues meshing wetly and messily. He’s hunching now, even though you’ve straightened up on your knees, and he feels you clumsily palm at his dick, tucking him back away into his briefs. It makes his lips go slack with a gasp even though he’s just finished, and he’s more than eager to take you by the wrists and help you to your feet. You toss his undershirt at him with careless speed, and he nearly gets lost in its beige expanse from the way that his arms shake as he pulls it over his head.

“My quarters,” Your voice is thick and ragged, still recovering from your prior lack of oxygen, “We can- it’s soundproof, no one will know.”

“Yes,” He breathes, legs shaking slightly as he gathers the rest of the clothes he’d shed while sparring with you, “Um- we can... Anakin still hasn’t gotten the air conditioning running.”

“Uh-uh,” You shake your head, feeling nothing from the vent to your left, “Hurry, let’s go before-”

“General,” The door slides open, and you both startle, much less in tune with the force presences of those around you than you’d like to admit. One of your troopers sticks his head through the door, “The kid needs a multitool.”

You blink once, registering a slight soreness at the back of your throat, “Get him a multitool, then.”

You’re sure he can see your haggard appearance, and all apart from the glossy look of your lips looks like you’ve been sparring. Which you have, technically. You just hope Obi-Wan’s trousers don’t look like they’ve only just been hitched up around his waist again, or his shirt barely pulled down over his chest.

“I lost mine, general,” The trooper admits sheepishly. There was an abundance of the supplies that were offered to you before you’d been shipped out to this battle station, and more had been stocked for a long time in one of the supply closets, but your troopers are bored more often than not, and you shudder to think of all of the times they’ve used them as target practice by standing them on the balcony and opening fire. Apparently, you need to request some more from the next inspection team, as well as impress upon your troops the difference between an abundance of resources and useless clutter begging for a blaster wound.

“I have one in my quarters,” You sigh wearily, “Let’s see to it that we don’t misuse our equipment anymore, soldier.”

“Yes, General,” He nods vigorously, stepping out of your way to offer you the open door.

“Obi-Wan,” You turn apologetically, “We’ll have to continue our sparring match after I retrieve the multitool for your padawan. You’re welcome to follow us, though I’m not sure it’s any cooler out there than it is in here.”

“I’d like to stash my clothes somewhere, if you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan holds up the outer garments he’d shed, “I think it gives you somewhat of an unfair advantage if I’m liable to trip over my own tunics.”

You grant him a good-natured laugh as you pass your trooper in the doorway, and all in all, you think that the two of you have done a fantastic job at pretending his dick wasn’t in your mouth only minutes ago.

Your trooper makes the wise decision to stand outside of your quarters when you enter them, although any initial disappointment you’d felt at his poorly-timed request has well worn off by now. That’s all he’s guilty of, anyways; you find their antics amusing despite their destructive nature. It’s not his fault that you’re canoodling with the Jedi master, so you forgive him his abhorrent timing. You beeline for a locker in your closet, punching in the numeric code and letting the squeaky hinges reveal your small weapons store. It’s a multipurpose space, blasters on a rack that’s affixed to the back, a mount for your saber, and a drawer of various other mechanical supplies down below. You throw it open, and Obi-Wan watches you dig for the multitool where he stands by your bed, his tunics laid on your bedspread.

You realize all too late that one of your other mechanical supplies is in full view of the Jedi master standing behind you, black in color for subtlety but unmistakable in shape. It’s phallic and has a second prong that shoots off of the base to vibrate against your clit, something you only use when you're absolutely certain no one can hear. Besides, the sound could very well be mistaken for one of your troopers shaving their scruff, so you have ample opportunity. You snatch the multitool out of the drawer and slam it shut, making your trooper’s shoulders twitch in a quickly concealed wince. You’re thankful that only Obi-Wan was a temporary witness to your lack of organizational skills.

“Here,” You rush to hand it off, forcefully locking the cabinet and thrusting the tool towards the trooper, “Take it- uh, keep it, I’ll put in a request for more supplies tonight.”

“Thanks, General,” He nods warily at you, and you pity the way he’s taken your context clues and misarranged them to view your behavior as standoffish and exasperated with him, “My apologies again.”

“No worries,” You try not to snap at him, unnerved by the abnormal lack of mental pressure from Obi-Wan behind you. He used to tease you abundantly in your youth, prying at your mental shields and slipping snide remarks through the cracks while you fought to keep a straight face, but now that he’s laid his eyes on possibly the most embarrassing item you own, he’s completely still, completely silent.

“Goodbye.” You shut the door with a hydraulic hiss, and stand facing it until Obi-Wan speaks, pretending to fuss with the control panel.

“It seems you overlooked another multitool in that drawer,” His voice finally reaches over the silence, carefully bundled so that the underlying mirth is something you can only guess at, “Now I wonder if your battalion is really the cause of your foul mouth.”

“Shut up!” You whirl on him with cheeks blazing on opposite sides of your face like Tatooine’s twin suns, “Don’t tease me-”

“I’m not teasing you!” He insists, voice sounding aghast, like it’s out of the question, like he’s offended by the accusation, taking your arms into his grip when you look like you might shove him. His face is split into a smile - not a grin, which is reassuring - but a warm smile, even if there is amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Yes you are,” You scoff, and you have half a mind to pull away when one of his hands releases your arm and anchors itself against your face instead. It’s warm, rough from wear but impossibly gentle. You fight leaning into it for as long as you can, pride still bruised, but he leans in to press his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss.

Typical.

You’d gagged on his dick ten minutes ago, and he’s kissing your forehead.

“Darling,” He hums sympathetically, tucking your face against his chest so snugly that you think it was engineered for the curves and bumps of your skin. You relish the hug he traps you in, the tender hold even though you’re interested in something more carnal, feral, hungry. His voice is strong and soothing as he speaks, and the vibrations thrum through his chest and against your face “You had my cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago. I’m not going to make fun of you for having a toy.”

Oh. Perhaps he hadn’t forgotten.

“Such a foul mouth,” You admonish him, tucking your grin away between the haphazardly-righted folds of his tabard.

He pinches at your side, fingers greedily prying at the soft flesh of your belly through layers of clothing you wish weren’t between your skin and his, “Yes, well, it’s because I’ve had yours all over me.”

His hand, similarly bold to his mouth, flattens out along the curve of your side, tucking into the space above your hip bones. The other stays in place against your cheek, finger running idly across the underside of your jawline. You don’t know whether the shiver that shudders down your spine is due to the ticklish nature of his touch, or the sensual area he’s chosen, but he feels your spine thrum, and he presses further into you like it was an invitation.

“Darling,” He starts, back to that well-practiced hesitancy, “If you still want to…”

“I do,” You nod, feeling sweat drip down the back of your neck and soak into the fabric of your tank top, “Do you think we have time?”

“Anakin can occupy himself with scrap metal and multitools for hours,” Obi-Wan recollects with a smile on his face that isn’t committed to fondness or resignation. You’re sure he’s proud of his padawan’s abilities, but not of the havoc he wreaks with them.

“Hmm, that might be cutting it close,” You pretend to debate it, gnawing at the inside of your cheek, and he lets out a laugh as warm as the runoff heat from his saber with none of the bite of its blade.

“You’d occupy yourself with me for hours?” He teases, but when you nod, it’s earnest.

“I’d occupy myself with you for the rest of my life, Obi-Wan.”

The breath that he draws in when you begin speaking is the last one he draws for a while. Instead he holds it there, letting it burn and sear at his lungs while he wonders if any words he could produce with it would contain even a fraction of the yearning he feels roll over him in a nauseating wave. Very little has ever made him want the life of a civilian - his home is between the opulent walls of the Jedi temple, but any walls he shared with you would be infinitely more grandiose if only for your place within them.

“Had you said the word,” He elects to speak the truth, even if it isn’t even a chip away at the trove of feelings he keeps locked tightly away in his mind for you, “I would have left the Jedi Order.”

Would have.

You know why he won’t now, and you’re not upset with him for the reasons. You understand them, even if you don’t relate to them.

“But Anakin…”

“I know,” You nod against his chest, fingers taking hold of his undershirt’s fabric edge and fastening there, “You made a promise to your master. And to him. And he needs your help. I wouldn’t ask you to leave.”

“Would you have? When we were younger,” He idly strokes down the length of your spine, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

“Maybe…” You admit, “Maybe if I’d known your trip to Naboo would bring about such change. Maybe if I’d known I only had a few years left with you as we were. But I didn’t. So I never asked. And I never will.”

He doesn’t react verbally or physically after your confession, but the silence that ensues isn’t an awkward one. Instead, he maintains his hold on you, and you feel a gentle wave of affection flow from him through the Force. Affection, appreciation, love, which you feel so broadly through the Force, but rarely so devoted to you yourself rather than the galaxy in its entirety. You’re no stranger to the feeling, but it’s different channeled privately between two people than it is as a way of life.

“Let us pretend,” Obi-Wan finally musters, his voice thicker than usual, though if you were not so in tune with him you wouldn’t have perceived it, “For the next few fleeting moments, that we are still young. That we don’t have responsibilities other than those to ourselves, and to each other.”

Though your youth may have escaped you, your mind weary with resignation and Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened with the perpetual exhaustion of adulthood, his touch does not feel tired or incapable. It feels strong, firm, and mindful where it slips from your chin to your waist. His other hand sandwiches you between them, and you’re tilting your chin up to kiss him before he gives any indication that he’ll do the same. But he does, his boldness almost reset from the interruption you’d suffered. Like you need to coax him out of his shell again, like he’s worried you’ve somehow changed your mind.

You take the back of his neck in your hand, finding it slick and tacky with sour-smelling sweat, and pull him down so that his lips smash messily to your own. It’s a move he’s not expecting, and a startled groan escapes his lips as proof. You drink it, sucking it down your throat and pulling him towards the bed with the same backwards momentum. He’s nimble even if he’s unprepared, probably to do with his extensive agility training. You’re more than ready to fall back onto your bed when your calves butt against the frame but he lowers you down gently, with ease, drawing back from your kiss despite your fervent protests to watch you look up at him.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, your voice weary, “Why are you hesitating?”

“I’m not hesitating,” He answers, and you feel it to be truthful, “I’m admiring you, darling. I’m not unsure, I’m more sure than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Prove it,” You plead, already pulling at the hem of your tank top. You peel its sweat-soaked binding off of your skin, showcasing the equally stained garment beneath it that keeps your chest closer to your neck than your stomach, “Please, Obi-Wan, take me like you want me. Not like you feel bad for having me.”

“I do not feel bad for having you,” He promises, mouth barely parting from yours to utter the words. His lips are pink-tinted, glistening with spit, probably a mixture of his and yours. He pants slightly, cheeks similarly ruddy, “Perhaps later I will. When I stand in front of the Council and tell them we conducted routine maintenance. When I lie, when I guard my memories of you from them. But I’m not occupied with that now, darling. Only with you, I swear it.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” You hum, kissing an inch lower than his mouth, the apex of his chin that’s marred by the scruff of his beard. It’s prickly and rough beneath your lips, and when you draw back they glisten with transferred sweat, “I’m glad you’re not thinking of Master Yoda while dipping a knee between my thighs.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan ducks his head, advances on pause as he plants his forehead against your shoulder, “That’s awful. Really, truly vile.”

You laugh, and despite his disgusted bravado, so does he. His chest shakes against yours and you relish the sound, hand still planted firmly on the back of his neck. You briefly consider breaking out your rusty Yoda impression, ‘kiss me, you must’, but decide against it, instead choosing to press his head closer to your torso, letting his forehead lay flush and sweaty against your shoulder. It puts the scruff of his beard on the curve of your tits, and you feel it burn your skin as he kisses along it lightly.

His mouth is soft, and his beard is its abrasive opposite. They trail in tandem along the slope of your breasts, first the soft lips and then the burn of the beard, until he’s lit a fiery trail across your skin to the padded edge of your bra. When his lips meet fabric instead of skin he noses beneath it, surely smelling a morning’s worth of sweat accumulated beneath the weight of your chest. You’re self conscious, for only a flash, then he takes a deep drag of air, inhaling until his chest seems fit to burst.

“I’m sorry,” You find yourself humming, regardless of his clear interest, “I wish a shower would help. Even the cold water doesn’t prevent sweating.”

“I don’t want you to shower,” He muses, pushing his face between your breasts to kiss at the skin between them. He mouths gently, tongue sliding over your skin with little form and too much spit that blends well with your sweat, “Sex is not sterile, darling. Soap and water defeat the purpose.”

You’re not sure whether it’s his insistence on the natural state of your body or the way that his knee gently prods against your center, but whatever it is, your fingers itch and you fling them up to cup the underside of your chest.

“Take it off,” You beg, and Obi-Wan shows no hesitation in complying, his hands sliding beneath your back, rough and weathered from work. They’re gentle as they slide over the clasp of your bra, and you push yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress so that he can maneuver the stretchy fabric easier.

“Does it hook or button?” He nudges his nose against yours to ask, and your stomach flops at the question. Both the fact that he doesn’t have enough experience to know, and the way that he feels comfortable enough admitting that to you by asking so earnestly only make you want him more, and you’re barely able to mumble ‘clasp’ before pressing your lips to his own once more.

“Three,” You add later, against his lips, when he unhooks one and still doesn’t have the garment undone, “There’s three.”

He takes your orders with unfailing patience, a trait you’d admired even in your youth. While you’d been more prone to hotheaded outbursts, he’d take you by the arm and speak for the both of you, usually resulting in far less severe of a punishment than you’d have gotten if you’d spoken your mind. Then the two of you would share sneaky, fleeting glances at each other while scrubbing the floors of the refectory, trying not to laugh loud enough for the Knight unwillingly supervising your punishment to hear.

You’re pulled out of your reverie when he finally unhooks the garment and slips it off of your shoulders, meaning you have to draw back from where you’d tucked your face over his shoulder, giving him a view of his work. As your faces pass each other he offers you the same grin he’d worn all those years ago, his pretty eyes alight with the love you feel seeping from his fingertips. You see a glimpse of the boy he was through the man he’s become, and both are equally endearing to you. The first, because you’d grown with him, like ferns tangled together in sticky, clinging tendrils. The second, because he wears his accomplishments on his face, crows feet at the corners of his eyes from laughing at his padawan’s wayward antics, and frown lines for scowling at the same incidences only moments prior. He’d laughed at you in your youth, and frowned just the same at your more uncouth ideas for adventure, and now those expressions are etched into his face, like layers of makeup no longer dissolvable with remover. He’ll wear them forever, and you want to see him display them even in his old age.

He watches the way that your body moves when he peels the sweat-soaked garment away from your chest. He watches your breasts succumb to gravity’s harsh pull, sloping sideways and downwards rather than maintaining their tight compress towards your chin. He watches them sag, watches them fall to their natural state and declares, “You’re beautiful, darling.”

He takes them in his hands, their mass in his palms as he rolls his thumb over the skin of your nipples. They’d usually pebble in the cold but now they’re pulling taut beneath his touch, and when he brushes his thumb over their peak you stifle a gasp.

“Beautiful,” He repeats, and leans down to meet one with his mouth. He gravitates towards the right one first, and the embrace of his hot mouth against your skin tempts your back to arch. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, then drags up its surface, and his lips kiss over the stripe of saliva he’d left behind.

His beard rubs against your skin and it’s not rawing, not yet, but you know it will be the more he mouths at your breast. He’s licking, sucking, pulling, but never biting, teeth merely grazing your flesh rather than indulging in it. His tongue does that instead, flattening out over your raised flesh and dragging hot, wet stripes over the bud of your perked nipple.

“Obi- Obi-Wan,” You gasp, dragging desperate, heaving breaths into your lungs as your hands fly to his lengthened hair. You’d ruffled it many times when it was short and spiked, but now you’re able to get purchase in the strawberry-blonde locks, curling your fingers around the soft, sweat-darkened strands and pulling.

You don’t pull hard, but it’s unexpected, and you feel the momentary pinch of Obi-Wan’s teeth around your breast. It floods heat to your already-pulsing core more than you’d have thought possible, considering the sweltering temperatures you’ve been in the whole time, but the soft groan that then ripples through your skin from the depths of his throat only makes you more desperate. All of a sudden the long-suffering heat is tepid by comparison, and you yank at the material of his undershirt so hard you nearly rip the fabric.

“Off,” You pant, “Please, take it- get it off, Obi-Wan.”

In a fluid, crouched movement Obi-Wan tears his undershirt off with one hand at its hem, his muscles flexing as he swings the arm up and over his head. He discards the shirt carelessly beneath him and it droops to the floor, no longer covering the bare skin of his chest that you’d admired earlier.

You have half a mind to do to him what he’s been doing to you, to sink your teeth into the flesh of his chest and suckle on his sweat-soaked skin. But he dips his face back to mouth at your tit once more, so you settle for running your hands greedily, desperately over the layer of soft skin that blocks his muscled chest from view. When he was younger, what seems like an eternity but must only be five years, his build was more defined. You’d gotten plenty of eyefuls of his bare, heaving chest during a particularly intense sparring match, or down by one of the large pools that were definitely supposed to be used more for reflection and tranquility rather than the chaos you’d wreaked upon them. But years of planning someone else’s schedule before his own has meant that he’s softened out around the middle, muscles still prominent when you dig your fingers into his skin, just not starkly visible anymore.

Age does that to a person; pushes them harder than ever before to achieve a less-defined result than they’re used to, but you find that you want to grind down onto the thin layer of pudge he’s accumulated just as much as you’d have wanted to drag yourself over his defined abs. The thought of doing both, either, anything makes you dizzy with desire that you express by scratching your sharpened nails down his skin, feeling his muscles shudder beneath your fingers.

“Darling,” He groans, choking on the word like it’s gagged him, “I- I think we ought to- are you ready?”

You marvel at his sincerity, at the idea that he’s not aware of the throbbing, slick mess that your core has become. You’d been ready twenty minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor beneath him, and you’ve only gotten more eager since then. His concern makes you want him more, and you use your grip on his soft hair to tug him upwards to meet your lips in a kiss.

“I’m ready,” You breathe, laying the words out in a hazy moan over his tongue, “I’m ready, Obi-Wan, please- please take me.”

A groan melts from his mouth like molten butter, dripping over your tongue and down your throat. He pants, lets you suck his tongue into your mouth in a long, eager drag, then mumbles clumsily, “I want you. I want- I want to have you, darling, I want to take you.” His hips roll experimentally against your own, the tight pressure of his clothed cock digging into your panties as he nearly loses the function in the muscles that are holding him up above you.

He lets out another moan as you drag your hips up to meet his premature thrusts, and this time it’s a weaker sound, more strangled and mottled. It’s satisfying, knowing that you’ve reduced the ever-stoic, prized Jedi negotiator Obi-Wan Kenobi to a heaving mass of sweat and desire. His undershorts are rucked up around his meaty thighs, but he hasn’t yanked them off to free his stiff cock yet, so for a moment, all you do is grind against each other.

The layers of clothing between you, one covering you and two covering him, provide frustrating boundaries but much-needed friction, and the scrape of his rough undershorts dragging against your thin panties makes your fingers curl into his back once more. You suspect that when he wakes tomorrow, your marks will still be there, and you take pride in knowing that he’ll have a very hard time forgetting you.

“Obi-” You really do intend to say his full name, but your breath leaves your lungs too quickly for it, and you revert back to the nickname he’d loathed as a teenager. Too juvenile, he’d protested greatly at the clipped diminutive, but he leans into it now. He licks the word right off of your tongue, his own plunging past your lips and dragging over your teeth in a messy, imprecise fashion. You get the sense that this is not about sex to him, it’s not about mechanics or equations or the perfect formula. It’s about you, and him, and you and him together. He doesn’t kiss you like a storybook prince because he kisses you like Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan wants to lick the spit out of your mouth and suck on your tongue. Obi-Wan wants to feel, not think, for once in his life, so he does.

“Obi-” You falter again, hands traveling from his muscled back to his hips. Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his undershorts, then his briefs where they lay against the same stretch of skin, “Off. Off, please- Obi-Wan, off, take ‘em- off.”

He grunts his approval into your mouth, obscene squelching sounds coming from where his spit pools between your teeth and your tongue. He reaches down with a blind, clumsy hand to tug at his waistband, but when it doesn’t provide immediate results, he finds himself getting frustrated. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, not the frustration itself but his inability to control it, and he feels his brow crease in irritation as he reluctantly parts from your mouth to focus on the task at hand. All he needs is a little extra leverage to slide his shorts off of his waist, briefs bunched together, and as soon as they’re out of his way he’s reaching for your own underwear.

You crane your neck downwards to watch him, and the glimmering mess of saliva in your mouth practically doubles in volume at the sight of his red-tipped, rock-hard cock. It’s curved slightly up towards his stomach in its desperation, and there’s precum oozing from its tip, foaming and all too appealing. You want to suck him off again, to really choke yourself on it this time and never draw back for air, but there’s no time when he tugs swiftly at the elastic band of your panties, tearing them easily away from you. They drag beneath your thighs but he merely pulls harder, until they spring free and bunch up around your knees.

“Up,” Obi-Wan taps at your left thigh, and you struggle to bend your knees amidst their relentless trembling. He helps you, strength having stuck with him even when composure has abandoned its post. You get your left thigh up first, exposing your glistening cunt, smeared sticky with your own slick. His breath catches, you feel it stutter to a stop in his chest that you’re groping, and his eyes glimmer in the warm lights above you.

“Darling,” He breathes, taken by the mess of your drooling cunt. He reaches out, touches it carefully, with only the pad of his pointer finger. He ghosts it along the side of your slit, and even the infuriatingly chaste touch is ultra erotic. At the way you writhe beneath a single one of his fingers he brings his thumb up to stroke down your slit, catching wetness on his thumb that his mouth opens to accommodate.

He sucks your release clean off of his thumb, you’re almost certain he scrapes his teeth along his skin just to get it all.

He leans into his own thumb, chases after it like he’s not the one taking it out of his mouth. He hesitates no further in clamoring backwards on the mattress until his knees hit the floor below, and he thanks the Force that the beds you were given are low enough for him to lean over the edge and bury his face in your cunt.

“Obi-Wan, no!” You plead, fingers tangling in his pretty blonde hair, “You’ll- you said- don’t cum yet, please, I- I want it in me!”

“I will cum in you,” He pledges, voice deep and determined as he nudges his nose against your wet cunt, “My darling, I’ll do whatever you ask. But I need you here, now. Please,” He breathes, his exhale shaky and warm as it heats your cunt, “Please, Darling, I want you here.”

“Have me,” You whimper, squirming your hips from side to side to propel yourself down the mattress. Your cunt bumps messily against his face that he doesn’t bother moving, and you buck your hips once, twice against his nose, riding his face, “Please, have me, Obi-Wan, you can have me.”

Your consent is all it takes. His mouth is open and his tongue is out the second you say the word, licking wet, tantalizingly slow stripes up your slit. He doesn’t breach it, doesn’t delve his tongue into your entrance, he laps at the slick smeared on the outside, as well as the wetness that has thoroughly soaked your thighs. Your skin is tacky with it even when he’s replaced it with his spit, and your cunt throbs at the meticulous approach he’s taken to appreciating every drop you give him.

It’s too meticulous.

After another slow, careful, nearly chaste lave of his tongue over the crease between your thigh and your cunt, probably just as soaked with sweat as it is with slick, you retighten your now-loose grip in his hair. You’d let go of the strands when he’d given you what you wanted, but now you want more, and you lead him straight to your core where he’d been lapping at your thighs instead.

“Here,” You beg, pulling his face against your drooling cunt until you’re certain he’s unable to breathe. You feel his nose breach your slit, nudged into your cunt by your insistent tugging on his hair.

“I need you here, inside, please.” You beg, pussy aching with abandon. His slow, careful ministrations had driven you mad, and now you are teetering on the edge of insanity as you nearly howl, “Please!”

His response is white-hot and wet. His tongue prods gently from between his lips as his jaw widens, and he watches your reaction as he fills your cunt with his slick tongue. A gush of your own wetness greets him, and as insistent as he is at meeting your eyes, his own flutter shut at the taste.

“Force,” He breathes, and the exclamation is uncommon from him. The muffled, garbled word sends vibrations straight into your cunt, and after the initial shock of his tongue inside of you, you feel his beard.

It scrapes abrasively against the sensitive, licked-over skin of your inner thighs, and prickles deliciously at the base of your leaking cunt. You feel sharp hairs prod at the curve of your ass, and his mouth moves fluidly, tongue wriggling with surprising prowess through the mess of slick you’ve accumulated in your cunt. It slides wetly along your inner walls that have made way for his tongue, and that will stretch eagerly to accommodate his cock.

His cock, oh, you’d forgotten the thick weight on your tongue, and your jaw aches with the ghost of it. Your cunt aches, too, and when his nose softly bumps your clit you gasp as your hips jolt upwards. He catches your thighs with Jedi agility, his muscles not straining at all to hold you to the mattress. The casual, easy display of strength makes your thighs quiver, and something inside of you tighten like a knot.

He licks you out like he’s drinking ambrosia, the glistening substance smeared over his face and starting up the bridge of his nose. The noises that he makes are hungry and wild as he licks more, sucks more, takes more. He’d moderated himself at first, lapped the sticky spillings of your wet cunt like he was rationing a meal. Now he feasts, tongue losing focus from inside your pussy and rapidly licking over your clit. His lips suction on and his beard burns tantalizingly at your sloppy cunt. You feel stimulation everywhere, the knot below your belly tightening ever-stronger until you feel the beginnings of a fray. It’s a step you take, an incline that you scramble up, and each pedestal you achieve gives way to a higher one. You let yourself climb, climb, climb, against every pulse of his suctioned lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you breach the clouds as Obi-Wan broadens his sucking mouth to half-latch to your clit, his tongue delving back into your drooling cunt. You leap for the final pedestal and a surge of pleasure hits you, soaking wet like a wave that you ride back down to the surface.

You tremble, you whimper, you love. Your thighs shake, the muscles in your stomach stuttering as your hips jolt and jerk. Your mouth produces such feeble sounds, whines and moans and ‘Oh, please, yes’s, and ‘Obi-Wan- kriff!’s. Your fingers in his hair latch tight but cling gentle, holding him to you as you lose control of yourself in the Force. All of the love, all of the passion, all of the attachment, all of the terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-un-Jedi-like things that you’re not supposed to feel surge through the Force and hit Obi-Wan like Coruscant’s train, knocking the wind out of him, though he never stops sucking at you.

Obi-Wan licks you through your orgasm, tongue pressing tight and hot and wet to the quiver of your cunt, letting it spasm against his mouth. He sucks up every last drop of slick that you’ll give him, greedily mouthing at your cunt long after it’s begun stinging from oversensitivity. You want his mouth off, and his cock in, although that first part sounds like a heinous thing to wish for. His tongue is perfection, slippery and knowing you well enough to hit just the right spots even though it’s never had you before. You only push his mouth away to beg for his cock, but you’re tempted to let him white out your vision and lick at you until he passes out.

“Obi-!” You gasp, pushing instead of pulling at his golden hair, “Obi-Wan, no- no more! Here, up- here, please, and I want you inside of me.”

He lets you unlatch him from your pulsing cunt, rife with the sting of stimulation. You need only a matter of seconds to come down from your high, but they’re seconds you can’t afford to spend on Obi-Wan’s tongue, or the clock won’t ever start. He licks at a smear of slick over your thigh that he’d missed earlier, and his brain seems to register your begging.

“Alright, darling,” He pants, out of breath from the way he’d spent it all in your cunt. His voice is ragged, drowned in slick and thick with want.

He clamors back onto the mattress, all humbly-forged muscles and greed. He hovers over you, and dips down to claim your mouth the way he had your cunt: with broad, sweeping swipes of his tongue. He licks your slick across your tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

“I’m here,” He soothes, his voice a notch deeper than usual and his words malformed due to the open ring of his mouth. He licks against your tongue once more, sloppy and hot, as his hips grind down against your thigh. He knows you need time but he doesn’t have long, and he grinds against your hip until you’re ready. You feel his stiff cock digging into your flesh, and it sends pulses of energy to your recovering cunt that make it beg to be filled. He’s not composed the way that he normally is, but he’s managing to hold himself together through grunts and groans into your mouth. If you don’t act fast, he’s going to splatter your stomach with cum, which wouldn’t be distasteful by any means, but you’d rather him paint your insides with it.

“You are intoxicating,” Obi-Wan proclaims, speaking directly into your mouth, an addict that can’t wean off of his drug, “I don’t know how I am supposed to pretend like this never happened.”

“Don’t,” You beg breathlessly, “Don’t forget me. Keep quiet around others, and- and when you are alone,” You reach down to take his cock into your hands, heavy and thick and waiting, “When you lay in bed at night, when you touch yourself-” He lets out something teetering on the edge of a whimper as you stroke your hand along his flushed length, an angry red coloring the tip that exposes how much self-control he’s composing, “-touch yourself, and- and think of me. Think of my hands, of my mouth, of my cunt. Think of me, Obi-Wan.”

“I will,” He vows, his voice holding like a frayed rope with one thread remaining, strained and pulling and clinging together, “Please let me have you. Please,” He braces his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing in your palm, “Please darling, let me in. I want to be inside of you, I want to have you, please.”

You’ve never seen him babble before. Not when he’d been seven years old, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, caught with a stray tooka cat in his robes halfway back to the creche. Not when he’d been fifteen and a warrior, his side split open in a gory mess of blood and flesh and lymph and bone. Not at his old master’s funeral, the light from the pyre’s flames dancing upon his stoic features. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a master at composure, but he is breathless now, sacrificing it to the dewy-warm crease where your neck meets your shoulder, and sucking up your sweat-salty scent in return.

You place your free hand on his back, sticky and flushed beneath your touch, and use it to help guide him into you. Your other hand, still wrapped around his cock, lines it up with your entrance and he needs little coaxing from there. He pushes himself into you slowly, courteously, but loses himself to some deep, primal urge that he’s buried beneath layers of meditation and balance.

He comes undone.

His muscles surge and his hips buck in what begins as a steady pace, but transforms into a wild rhythm that pins you against the mattress. He lets out a groan into the sweaty juncture of your neck, something that sounds like it could be from a beast and not a man. You feel the scrape of his beard against the seldom-touched skin there and you’re sure it’s growing raw, but you couldn’t care less. He’s not holding your hips up - his hands are plastered to your side and holding you there with a force carefully and pointedly short of bruising - but you angle your pelvis up anyway, allowing him to hit that much deeper inside of you. The tip of his cock never hurts where it connects briefly each thrust with your cervix, but you feel it intimately, every vein and ridge and curve that his body has to offer.

You’re grateful for the sound-proof walls of the military compound because you realize after a moment that you’re making noise just the same as he is. It’s softer, quieter, but it’s there, the underlying harmony to his leading grunts and groans.

All the while he is soft and gentle, because what he wants is not sex, it is you. Perhaps if he were a lesser man, he’d squeeze you, or bend you, or break you, all to take you the way he wants. But it is the soul inside of you that he’s after, and he takes great care with the vessel it’s enclosed in. He holds you, but he does not squeeze you. He kisses you, but he does not bite you. He moves with you, not against you. Your hips surge upwards to meet the thrusts of his cock and he latches his mouth to yours desperately, pleadingly. Your breathing is short and staccato through your nose, fanning against his top lip as he mashes it messily to your own, and you’re much easier to bring to a climax the second time around, sensitivity still roiling in your blood from your previous orgasm.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, the words spilling languidly into his mouth, as you move in tandem, in, out, in, out, forwards, backwards, everything, nothing.

“Obi- I’m gonna- ooh, I’m gonna cum,” You cry, overwhelmed by the consistent drag of his cock against the walls of your soaked cunt. You’re slick again, gushing enough to replenish however much Obi-Wan had licked out of you. It squelches as he drives his dick into your pussy, foamy from the repetitive motions that are only creating it at faster intervals.

“Please- please do,” He moans, his dick twitching inside of you, “Force, I- ah, there’s nothing I want more than to feel that, darling. Please- please cum, please-”

“Kiss me,” You plead, even though he’s never stopped, if the way that his mouth moves against yours can still be considered a kiss. It’s far from any conventional peck on the lips, mostly tongue and drool that seeps down the side of your mouth and into your neck, mixing with the sweat already lingering there from your workout.

He tries kissing you more neatly, his lips tightening and suctioning around your own, but the closer you both get to your impending orgasms, the sloppier his thrusts are, and the more slack his mouth goes, smothering your own instead of truly kissing it while his tongue continues its dogged pursuit of your own. It’s no matter; his spit leaks uncontrollably into your mouth and you relish the taste. You don’t need perfection, you need him.

You can’t help your wandering hand from snaking down to his waist, curving just below his cock to cradle his balls against your palm. They’re heavy and warm as you take them into your hand, and doing so elicits a gasp from the man chasing his release inside of you, his hips stuttering in their pursuit of the wet warmth of your cunt. You squeeze them, not harshly, just a gentle compression, and Obi-Wan melts. A whimper escapes his lips, still slack and pressed to your own, and though his thrusts momentarily slow, they resume at double the pace. He’s rapidly bucking his hips now, barely containing himself enough to lift one hand off of your side and bring it to your chest. He fits his palm over one of your breasts, your stiff, sensitive nipple caving against his palm. You gasp at the prickling sensation and your fingernails momentarily dig into his back, but when his dick twitches once more inside of you, desperate, fit-to-burst, you drag them down his back in searing red lines.

If you hadn’t been able to feel Obi-Wan cum inside of you, you’d have known it was happening from the cry he releases alone. It’s abrupt, like his orgasm catches him off-guard even though he’s been pursuing it. But you can feel it, you can feel his warm cum ooze out of the head of his cock, momentarily stationary as it’s snug against your cervix. You feel it gush from his dick, filling any and all available space in your pulsating cunt before flooding outwards, dripping down your ass and thighs in an obscene display that soaks right into your bedsheets. Obi-Wan rides out his climax at a pace rapid enough to coax your second one out of you, and you welcome the now-familiar sensation of cumming around Obi-Wan. It’s mind-numbing, your ears ring for a faint moment, and your cunt rapidly clenches and unclenches around his cock that’s all too happy to continue occupying the space.

He grunts, moans, and groans as his sloppy thrusts finally slow, and your cunt appreciates the reduced pace. You’re well and truly spent, difficult to achieve for someone who’d gone through endurance training since childhood, and you’re not surprised that Obi-Wan, too, needs a break. He lowers himself to your chest with a slow, shaky exhale, eyes closed and face glistening with sweat just as your own does.

His beard grates roughly against your skin, shifted with every ragged breath that he draws in. His hair spills over the breast that his mouth isn’t nestled beside, and you stare down at his face, marveling how beautiful his barely-fluttering lashes and heaving chest are.

Before he opens his eyes he angles it towards you, so that the first thing he sees is your flushed, sweaty, open-mouthed expression. He’s in the perfect position to kiss the side of your breast, and it tingles with the phantom sensation of his palm flat against your perked nipple barely minutes before. His beard scrapes your skin like it has since you first kissed him, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to live happily without the scratch of it against your cheeks, or thighs, for that matter. The skin between your legs is still raw, stinging with the friction of Obi-Wan’s coarse hair against your flesh..

“You look beautiful, darling,” He hums, his voice grated raw from fatigue. His breath fans hot over your chest, but he pushes himself up on his tired biceps to hover over you. His weight against you had been comforting, but his gaze is even more so, and you let him loom over you.

His chest, peppered with auburn curls so fine they glisten in the poor lighting of your quarters, rises and falls deeply in front of you. You have half a mind to bury your face in it; you might if his face wasn’t impossibly more captivating.

His eyes search yours, for what you’re not sure, but you realize that his breathing gets more shallow until his chest stills completely. He only releases his breath when you reach up to thumb gently at his sternum, loosening his lungs again.

“Do you regret it?”

You suppose you didn’t have to ruin the moment so harshly, but you want to know the truth. You want to know if this was worth it, or if you’re going on the list of regrets that Obi-Wan pours over obsessively.

He takes a moment to answer, but you suspect it’s because he’s been caught off guard by your question. He shakes his head, dipping his face down to kiss the swell of your cheek.

“No, I don’t.” He mumbles against the dewy skin of your face, hiding his words there in self-preservation. You kiss the fleeting scruff of his beard as he pulls away, and your eyes find the blue of his instantly.

“You needed convincing at first,” You recall warily, something sinking in your chest now that you’re not puppettered by lust, “Are you certain it was the right thing to do?”

“Not at all,” He admits, “In fact, I think it was wrong of me. But I’ve done it anyways, and I am happy for that.”

“Why wrong?” You ghost your knuckles against his cheek, and he leans into it like he used to do when you’d clean scrapes and cuts he’d acquire while sparring.

“I am more attached to you now than ever,” He offers simply, but it doesn’t seem like it pains him to confess. He seems lighter now, less embroiled in his own anxiety. “And I’m not certain I can keep my personal feelings- well, personal. I don’t know that I could think rationally about you. That’s not desirable to the Order, or to the war effort.”

You bite your tongue, teeth digging softly into its muscle.

“All the same,” He continues, “Jedi are not without attachments. Younglings form friendships in the creche, and their minders love them. Padawans love their Masters, and vice versa. Masters engage in relations,” He acknowledges, then his brows tick up and he considers, “Ki Adi Mundi has four wives. Perhaps I’m not the most blasphemous Jedi they’ve ever seen.”

A laugh comes tumbling from your lips before you can stop it, and Obi-Wan’s face softens into a grin of his own.

“Five,” You correct him, “He has five wives.”

“Force, he’s a heretic,” Obi-Wan exclaims, but it’s all for show; he holds no ill opinions of the council member.

“I’m happy for his wives,” You hum, the sound just short of a giggle, “But I prefer your beard over his.”

“Oh, but he’s got a better mustache than me,” Obi-Wan settles on his side facing you, a smile etched permanently into his features as he plays along with the banter you’ve started. He relishes its lighthearted nature compared to the hesitance of moments prior, “Maybe I should grow it out and curl it like his.”

Before you can offer him another round in exchange for a promise to never shape his facial hair around Master Mundi’s, the walls of your compound give a creaky grinding sound, then a rumble, and air whooshes through the vents you’ve come to loathe for their uselessness in the recent past.

“He did it!” You gawk, sitting up excitedly, nearly forgetting that you’re topless, “Oh Force, Anakin’s a wizard! He really is, he’s a mechanical wizard, and I’m going to buy him a speeder for this.”

“Do not,” Obi-Wan groans, sitting up beside you and tugging you easily to fit your back against his chest, “The last thing that boy needs is the ability to go faster.”

“He did it,” You sigh happily, leaning back and pressing your lips to Obi-Wan’s. He reciprocates easily now, unlike before when he’d run himself ragged with doubts.

“That means we’ll be off soon,” Obi-Wan reminds you gently, and you deflate slightly in his hold, “But I don’t think comming each other should be any issue.”

“Every night?” You suggest, kissing at the prickly cleft of his chin.

“That’s- ambitious.” He chuckles, but it’s not meant to tease, “Every night, darling.”

“You can send me dirty videos,” You gush, scrambling to free yourself from Obi-Wan’s hold when he tries locking his fingers onto your sides, nipping sharply at your shoulder.

“I will not!” He insists, voice firm but chest trembling with barely-withheld laughter, “Force, if I pressed the wrong button…”

“Perhaps Master Mundi could share it with one of his wives,” You laugh, scrambling back into your underclothes and heading for the fresher to clean yourself up, “Hurry up and get dressed, Obi-Wan, one of my troopers is probably on their way to tell us the good news!”

Your suspicions are confirmed only moments later, thankfully, after you’ve both had time to right your appearances. You look flushed and sweaty, if anything, but the cool air hasn’t managed to flood the entire compound yet, and you’ve been exercising, so it’s excusable. No one but you two needs to know that exercising didn’t mean sparring for longer than ten minutes.

“Anakin, you’re fantastic,” You call, rushing through the empty hangar where he’s standing near the ramp of the ship, “You’ve saved us all. I’m fairly certain my troops would have resorted to fratricide if we’d had to melt here for any longer.”

The padawan gives you a valiant effort at a polite chuckle, and you press on, “For the record, I told your master I’d get you a speeder for helping us today, but he said no.”

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan starts, exasperated, but catches himself on the use of your first name. Perhaps it feels different now, coming out of his mouth much more measured than it had only twenty minutes prior. He doesn’t speak further.

Anakin’s eyes briefly glint at the fantasy of his own speeder, but he controls himself quickly. He’s a credit to his master, who manages to look convincingly like he hadn’t just broken a very long streak of celibacy. Still, you appreciate that war hasn’t managed to suck the most basic of excitements out of the child, and you reach up to pat his cheek in a gesture distinctly un-Jedi like.

“Take care of yourself, and don’t let Obi-Wan bore you with a million lectures on economics, or politics, or the two combined.”

Anakin nods, but bites his lower lip to refrain from smirking, saving himself a lecture on sass later on. You hear Obi-Wan exhale huffily behind you, and you turn your attention to him when Anakin retreats onto the ship.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add to my apprentice’s willfulness,” He grouses, but the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in fondness for you both, “He’s got enough of that on his own.”

“Take care of yourself,” You ignore his teasing, your voice tender and sweet, slightly more than it had been for Anakin, “I know they don’t send you out much, because he’s only fourteen, but- but please take care of yourself, Obi-Wan.”

Perhaps if Anakin hadn’t been lingering on the ramp of the ship, perhaps if there weren’t five clone troopers stationed in the hangar, perhaps if you were the only two people in the world, like it had felt less than an hour ago, Obi-Wan would have kissed you. But he doesn’t, all he does is nod,

“We will,” He vows, and you nod, satisfied.

“I mean it,” You continue, more threatening than your earlier sentiment, “Comm me.” And you think back to the request you’d made earlier, breathlessly, the words fanning out against his sweaty skin, “And… think of me.”

You know he’s recalling the same moment in time when his cheeks tinge pink.

“I will,” He promises, singular this time, confirming your suspicions that his mind is flashing with visions of your flushed skin beneath his hands, “And please take care of yourself, too, General.”

Something hard and aching tugs at the back of your throat at the honorific, such a far cry from the intimacy you’d shared. But now you are General Y/L/N, and he is Master Kenobi, and that is the way things must be in the presence of others.

“Master Kenobi,” You bow, bending at the waist and noting the soft tug of soreness there.

“General Y/L/N,” Obi-Wan mimics your gesture, hands folded neatly into the sleeves of his robes.

He turns. He pivots on his feet and strides up the ramp of the ship they’d taken, Anakin waiting until he’s passed through the doorway to follow behind him. The door hisses shut, concealing them both, and the mechanical whiz-kid has the engines powered up in no time. You watch their ship take flight and navigate the narrow entrance to your hangar with ease, waiting until they’ve passed each temperature-isolating layer of defense that enshroud your compound and disappear into the planet’s heat-hazy atmosphere to turn away.

“General,” One of your troopers lingers behind you, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” You put on a convincing show, smiling serenely, “I’d just forgotten how much of a challenge sparring with Master Kenobi is. I’m fatigued; I think I’ll retire to my quarters for some rest.”

“General,” He nods, stating your title like a vow of loyalty, standing at attention as the hangar doors finally shut you in.

You walk the familiar path to your sparse quarters absentmindedly, feeling that same twinge of achiness each time you take a step. Only once your door hisses shut do you release the prim tension in your shoulders, slumping and slouching like you’d just escaped the throes of battle.

There is a shirt on your bed.

It’s white, though it’s been worn thoroughly, so the color is muddied ever so slightly with the tan tinge of sweat. It’s rumpled, from a hasty removal. It’s laid over your poor excuse for a blanket, cream-colored against the starkly contrasting black fabric. It’s impossible to miss, which means it had to have been placed there deliberately; it wasn’t forgotten.

It’s Obi-Wan’s.

You overcome your momentary stun and pad towards the bed, reaching for the shirt with a hesitant hand. You take it, feel it ever-so-slightly damp with lingering perspiration, and your stomach flips.

It’s Obi-Wan’s; it’s yours.

The shirt winds up snug around your pillow, tucked beneath the Republic-issue linen. It’s invisible to the outside eye, but when your nose is pressed gauchely into the pillowcase you can smell Obi-Wan through it, a mix of natural and artificial scents.

The musk of cologne and the acrid smell of sweat. Composure and lust. What is right and what is wrong.

You and Obi-Wan.

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wonwoostoilet · 22 days

Text

Jaig Eyes

Summary: Soulmates are forbidden among the clones. Yours just happens to be a certain Captain. Thankfully, he's not above breaking the rules sometimes.

Pairing: Captain Rex x medic!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, P in V sex, no foreplay, unprotected sex, some description of battles, wounds, slight blood mention, drinking, partying, Soulmate AU

A/N: Rex my baby, my boy, one of my OG faves. It's about time I wrote something for him. I'm a little delirious from the heat, but I'm still alive. This was supposed to be the first one of the series but Tech and Crosshair demanded more attention.

MASTERLIST

The explosions are loud, even with the tanks as far ahead as they are. Your adrenaline is pumping, but you keep breathing, keeping it under control. That’s why you were chosen for this position, after all. Your ability to keep control even under the most overwhelming, stressful situations.

Your home planet got hit hard early in the war. Due to its location near four major hyperspace lanes, both sides of the war needed to control it, and that came at the expense of its inhabitants. Many people lost their lives in the brutal battle, both civilians and clones. There wasn’t much left of your home afterwards, most inhabitants of the city displaced.

So you decided to leave and join the GAR as a medic. You already had the experience, and after doing everything you could to help during the invasion, you had decided to put your life plans on hold and join the army.

Your ability to keep calm under extreme duress had impressed your instructors during your training, and so they had given you the title of combat medic, and sent you off with the 501st Legion. You had practically been thrown right into the field, not that you had expected much less.

Kix, the clone medic you served under, had given you a brief tour and rundown on the way to provide reinforcements to the 104th. He had warned you that the area they were landing in was going to be hot, and to expect to jump in right away.

You had expected nothing less, having already seen just how ugly the front lines can be.

That’s where you are now, treating troopers practically as they fall.

“The Captain’s down!”

The words ring loud and clear through your comm, the energy of the entire battalion shifting. You have yet to meet any of the clone commanders, much less the Captain of the 501st. You had been thrown into this rather rapidly. There would be a time for introductions later.

Your name is called through the comms, Kix appearing with another trooper, dragging who you assumed was the Captain between them. They lay him on the ground, the other trooper running back into the heat of the battle.

“We need to stabilize him before we can move him.” Kix says, kneeling next to the Captain.

You kneel on his other side, taking a look at him. His entire right shoulder piece is missing, an ugly wound oozing blood. It’s a nasty shot, but he’s lucky it’s not on the left.

“Bacta.” Kix says and you hand off an injector from your belt.

You move to take off his helmet, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes are drawn to his helmet, above his visor. The marking on it. You knew most of the clones used some sort of marking to distinguish themselves. Whether it be on their armor, or tattoos, or hairstyles, they all had unique aspects about them to give them individuality.

This one, though. This one is startling to you.

Most species in the galaxy experience the phenomenon of soulmates. There are a number that don’t, but they are vastly outnumbered by those that do.

How one is linked to their soulmate can vary. Yours just happens to be the identifying mark. A symbol or even a phrase that means something to your other half. Or, for the lucky few, an entire name. Most got them at birth, or some shortly after. Rarely were there huge gaps in age between soulmates. Given the vast dichotomy of species in the galaxy, fate wasn’t that unkind.

Well, most liked to think it wasn’t.

Your mark showed up eleven years ago. You had already been well into your childhood when you woke up one morning to find a symbol on your chest. You’d never seen anything like it before. After some extensive research, you came to learn they’re called jaig eyes, a symbol used by Mandalorians for distinguished warriors. A symbol of bravery, tattooed over your heart in blue.

You had thought your soulmate might be Mandalorian, and so you had spent years planning and working towards a trip to Mandalore.

Then the war started, and your planet was invaded.

The entire situation had left such an impact on you, you decided to push your dreams of Mandalore, and your soulmate, aside for the time being. If fate had paired you together, you would meet eventually.

You hadn’t expected this though.

Your hands are shaking just a bit as you grab his helmet, pulling it off. You support his neck, easing his head to lie in the dirt. His face is pinched as Kix ties a tourniquet around his shoulder.

“I’m fine.” He grunts out, nose scrunching in pain.

“The gaping hole in your shoulder says otherwise.” Kix says, injecting the shot of bacta into the wound.

You grimace a bit, knowing how much that hurts. Your own fingers pull down his blacks, exposing enough of his neck to administer a stim shot. You can see as it begins to kick in, numbing the pain and giving him a boost of energy. His face begins to soften, body relaxing a bit.

Kix calls for an evac, two troopers easing the Captain onto a stretcher before removing him from the heat of the battle. You clear your head, moving on to the next injured trooper. The battle isn’t over. You have a lot more work to do before you can think about this new development.

****

You wipe your brow, body starting to drag as the adrenaline crashes. The battle had ended, but your job was only getting started. There was still a field of injured troopers that needed care, as well as a full med bay.

“I’m impressed.” Kix says, finishing applying the bacta patch on the final trooper that needed care. “Not many nat-borns can keep going that long after being in the field.”

You shrug. “It’s not my first time on the battlefield. My home planet was one of the first invaded by the Separatists. Most of it was wiped out by the battles. I learned very quickly to stay busy. If you’re not doing anything, you remember you’re human and you crack.”

Kix puts a hand on your shoulder. “Go get some rest. We’ll be fine here.”

“Thank you, sir.” You nod, heading off to the bunks.

You hop in the refresher, wishing it was real water, but the sonic shower will do. You don’t let it hit you until you crawl into your bunk, letting the day wash over you finally. You’re shaking, silent tears rolling down your cheeks. You’d mastered the quiet cry a long time ago, not wanting to disturb your fellow medics getting some much needed rest.

You’re exhausted, but you’ve seen far too much today to let yourself rest just yet.

You need to work through it. If you bottle it up, you’ll only explode later.

You close your eyes, the image of the jaig eyes coming to the front of your brain. There was no mistaking it. It wasn’t the confusion of battle, or the stress making you see things. The Captain of the 501st has jaig eyes on his helmet, in the same shade of blue as the ones printed on your chest, right over your heart.

This is going to complicate things.

It was one of the first things you were taught in your training. Under no circumstances were clones allowed to initiate their soulmate links. If, by chance, one of them happened to be your soulmate, the link had to be rejected. If a clone was found to have iniated the link, they would be decommisioned immediately.

It’s cruel, but you can understand why.

The soulmate link is a powerful motivator. The clones were designed to be loyal, focused, and dedicated to fighting and winning the war. Many of the first generation of clones had deserted upon learning of their soulmate marks. It seemed even the most potent conditioning couldn’t overcome the yearning of ones soul to find its other half.

Even the most loyal clone would turn their back upon meeting the soulmate.

The thought of being rejected is terrifying. It’s a painful process for both involved. Some who have experienced it claim it feels like your body is being turned inside out, every cell on fire as your soul destroys the link. You remember every second of it, the horrible pain and the grief that settles in as you realize you’ll never be able to feel the same again.

You’ll never be the same again.

You can’t tell the Captain. He can never know. You can’t stand the thought of being rejected. Though the pain would ease with time, you’ll never forget it. You’d rather suffer through the pain of being so close but never initiating than feel the rejection of someone who may never have wanted to reject you.

****

Time flies quickly now that you’ve established yourself amongst the 501st. The Legion is constantly on the move, burning through battle after battle with little rest in between. According to Kix this is very common, with the Legion going sometimes weeks without a break. You know it can’t be good for them, recognizing the exhaustion on many of the trooper’s faces and in their body language.

You’re beginning to feel it too, tension knotting in your shoulders and the quality of your sleep has been declining. You know it’s not just the stress of constant adrenaline and work, though. Constantly being within close proximity of your soulmate and doing absolutely nothing about it has been wearing on you as well. You’ve spoken maybe ten words to each other when Kix had introduced you to the Captain after the first battle when you’d helped care for him.

Since then, you’d only seen him in passing.

It’s slowly driving you insane.

You’ve grown close to some of the troopers, especially those that frequented the med bay for “unjustified reasons” as Kix liked to call it. It was his code for “they did something stupid and now we have to fix them.”

You can’t really blame them for being a bit reckless sometimes. They deserved to have some fun every once in a while.

“There’s my favorite medic!” A heavy arm slings around your shoulder, nearly making your knees buckle. You’d been in one of the storage areas, cataloging everything the med bay needed to stock up on once you landed on Coruscant. “Excited about shore leave?” Fives asks.

“Actually I am.” You say, honestly. You had planned to book a hotel room and sleep off the stress. You hope the distance from your soulmate will help ease the tension that’s been building.

“A bunch of us are gonna hit 79s. You should come with us.” Echo says, popping up on the other side of you. You had been wondering where he was, as the two were rarely far from each other.

It’s a tempting offer. Losing yourself in a bar for a night might help ease the stress. Unless Captain Rex planned on being there too.

“I don’t know...” You say, chewing your lip. “I was planning on just relaxing.”

“Come on,” Fives squeezes you against his side. “It’s your first shore leave. Let us show you how we celebrate.”

You almost say no, but perhaps spending time around others will help you feel better. Even if Captain Rex is there, alcohol can help you forget. Perhaps you could even find someone else, someone to help you forget.

“Fine.” You sigh, but a smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll come with you.”

They both cheer, giving you breath-stealing pats on the back. Sometimes they forget they have to be gentler with non-clones.

“Meet you on the landing platform at 19:00 hours.” Five says.

You salute him jokingly, making your way to the med bay with a smile on your face.

***

You’re glad you thought to pack a dress for occasions like this. You’re also glad you packed a dress that covers your chest. The last thing you need is any of them seeing it. Would they report you? Would they tell the Captain? You’d like to think they wouldn’t. It’s not like you’d even been trying to talk to the Captain.

You check yourself in the mirror, making sure your mark is covered before you make your way out of the venator. As promised, a small group of guys is waiting on the landing pad, some of them having dressed down while others are still in their armor.

Fives whistles lowly as you approach, your cheeks warming a bit. “Looking good, civvy.”

“I mean, I know you’re a looker but kriff, you clean up well.” Jesse says, nonchalantly giving you a once over.

Your face feels hot with their attention and compliments, not used to being on the receiving end. “Thanks, guys.”

“Come on,” Fives tosses an arm across your shoulders. “Let’s get going!”

***

You feel warm, slightly buzzed as you make your way back towards the bunks. It’s late...or early depending on how you look at it. You’d had a good time with the guys. You’d danced and drank and laughed a lot. It was a good distraction, and it helped you decompress a bit. You’re exhausted, though, still ready to sleep the rest of shore leave away before you inevitably get thrown into another battle.

It’s the alcohol that’s dulled your senses a bit, not even noticing the person rapidly approaching behind you until they’ve spun you around, pressing you back into the wall.

“Fives!” You blink in shock up at Fives, his brow furrowed as he stares down at you. “W-What are you doing?”

Your heart is racing as his hand lifts towards your dress, all the worst possible things flashing through your head. He’s a flirt, but you’d never thought he’d go this far. Your buzzed brain has just got it in you to call out for help when his hand tugs the neck of your dress to the side, revealing the mark on your chest.

“I knew it.” He says, letting your dress fall back into place.

“How did you-”

“I glimpsed it while we were dancing.” He says simply. “I had to be sure.”

You step away from the wall, adjusting your dress. “Well you could have just asked instead of giving me a heart attack.”

“Sorry.” He says, actually managing to look guilty. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“I don’t want to get rejected.” You say. “I’d rather live with the pain of him being close than live with the pain of rejection.”

Fives snorts. “He won’t reject you.”

You blink up at him. “What?”

A grin tugs at Fives’ lips. “He won’t reject you. Most of us don’t agree with the rule against soulmates, and we don’t plan on following it. Rex may be a Captain, but he’s not going to reject you just because he’s supposed to. If we followed the rules as rigidly as we’re supposed to, most of us would be dead already.” He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Talk to him. You never know when it might be too late.”

***

Despite Fives’ admission to their willingness to bend the rules, you haven’t approached the Captain. Partly because you’re still afraid, and also partly because you haven’t had time. After the brief shore-leave, the Legion had been thrown into a long campaign that had been taking its toll. Many, many troopers were injured, and you barely got time to sleep, let alone do anything else.

Like approaching the Captain about your soulmate mark.

After two long weeks of grueling battles, it’s finally over. Well, at least the fighting. You still have an overflowing med bay to get through.

Hours later, most of the troopers have been stabilized and on their way to healing. Kix sends you away, practically ordering you to bed. You don’t argue, your feet already dragging as you leave the med bay. You need a long cry and a nap, ready to crash.

You hadn’t meant it literally, but it seemed fate was getting tired of your avoidance.

You walk straight into a hard chest, nearly falling backwards. Hands steady you, and you look up right into the eyes of Captain Rex.

“S-Sorry Captain.” You stutter, taking a step back. “I-I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s alright.” He says, still holding your gaze. “I know you’ve been overwhelmed in the med bay recently. You’re all working hard.”

You nod. “Yeah.” You continue to stare at him, the words bubbling out of you before you can stop them. “I need to speak with you. Alone.”

He blinks in surprise. “Oh. Is there...something wrong? Is it one of the troopers?”

You shake your head. “No, no. It’s...” You almost backtrack. You almost change your mind, but those soft brown eyes draw you in. “It’s personal.”

He hesitantly leads you into one of the many storage rooms, making sure it’s empty. You hope no one walks in. You’re already nervous about bringing this up to the Captain. You’d rather not have to try and explain this to someone else.

You turn to face him as the door slides shut, looking up into his eyes again. His face is drawn and focused, and you almost feel bad for throwing this on him.

“I think you’re my soulmate.” You blurt out, wanting to get it all out in the open.

His eyes widen in surprise. “What?”

You bite your lip, stripping off your gear enough that you can lower the neckline of your shirt a bit. You draw it down, revealing the mark on your skin. “It appeared almost eleven years ago.”

He steps closer, staring hard at the mark. His hand lifts, his gloved fingers tracing over the lines of the jaig eyes. “The medic’s symbol.” He says, eyes still staring at the mark on your chest. “My mark, it’s the medic’s symbol.”

You let out a long breath. Fate really does plan out everything perfectly.

His hand leaves your chest, lifting to cup your chin. You step closer to him, your chests almost touching. How desperately you want to kiss him, to initiate the bond. You’re not even sure that’s what he wants.

“I think I’ve known since Kix introduced us.” He says, his hand still holding your chin.

“I knew the moment I saw you on the battlefield, when you got shot.” You say.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He asks.

“I didn’t want to get rejected.” You admit. “I-I thought...but then Fives said-”

“Fives knows?” He asks.

You nod. “He saw the mark when we went out to 79s last shore leave.”

His grip tightens just a bit on your chin, jealousy flashing in his eyes.

“Nothing happened.” You quickly add, realizing your words left a little too much unsaid. “We just danced, and he confronted me after about it. He said you clones aren’t quite as uptight when it comes to rules as everyone thinks.”

The side of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “Not in this Legion at least. I do wish you’d said something sooner, but I understand if you didn’t know...I’m not going to reject you.” He holds you still for a moment before dropping his hand. “The General is being called back to Coruscant, so we’ll get a short leave once we return. Two hours after we land, come to the barracks. I’ll make sure they’re empty.”

Your stomach squirms with excitement. Even if you do nothing but sit and talk, the prospect of being close to your soulmate has your body coming alive. You nod, hardly able to contain yourself.

You don’t feel quite so tired anymore as you make your way to your own barracks.

***

The two hours after landing seems to take a lifetime. Your eyes flash to the chronometer constantly. The first half hour hadn’t been so dreadful, as you had spent most of that helping move still recovering troopers, and loading up carts to pick up supplies.

Then you’d found yourself with nothing to do but wait, so you had returned to your barracks to wait out the hour and a half before you’d make your way to the clone barracks. You’d considered dressing up, but you thought that might draw too much attention. Wearing light gear could at least give you an excuse for being there, should anyone ask.

You head out ten minutes before, knowing it will take you that long to get across the ship. The trooper’s bunked on the opposite side of the ship from the medics, who were close to the med bay.

Your stomach flutters with nerves and excitement the entire way. You’d thought about this moment for a long time, though it’s not quite playing out like you had expected. You’re not complaining, though. You’re lucky to have someone as loyal and caring as the Captain for your soulmate.

You make it to the barracks, Captain Rex waiting outside the door. He’s removed his armor, wearing only the blacks underneath. You greet him with a smile, and he returns it. You like it, you realize, seeing him smile.

He leads you inside, this set of barracks smaller than the others. It’s specially set up, he tells you, for the more higher ranking clones. The Captain, the ARC troopers, and those on his specialized squad.

He leads you to the bed closest to the fresher, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t really plan anything. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want.”

You put a hand on his arm. “I figured we’d just let things happen naturally. Even if all we do is sit and talk, that’s fine with me.”

He smiles down at you. “Then let’s talk.”

And so you do.

You tell him everything. From your earliest memories to getting your mark, to the devastation of your planet during the start of the war. You tell him about how you’d planned to visit Mandalore in hopes of finding your soulmate, and how you’d given up that dream to join the GAR.

He tells you everything about himself too. Growing up too fast on Kamino, the endless training, being called to the front when the war started, how he was there on your home planet when it was attacked, all the men he’s lost, the stress of the war. They’d been designed to be more resilient to high stress situations, but the grief of loss and the exhaustion still weighs on him.

You wrap your arms around him before you even think about it. You feel for him, you really do. As much as they’re supposed to be just numbers in an army fighting a war they didn’t even volunteer to be a part of, you know they’re more than that.

“That’s why most of us don’t follow the rule about soulmates.” He says, his arms wrapped around you. “We have to believe there’s something beyond war and loss.”

“I’m glad you don’t agree with it.” You say, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t think I could have given you up.”

His hand slides up your back, moving to rest between your shoulder blades. “I...don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

“I don’t think anyone does.” You say, and you mean it. “I think most of it is just supposed to...be natural. It’s supposed to feel right.”

He pulls away from you, looking down at you. Your faces are inches apart, breath mingling. This close you can see the lines on his face, the light scattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks.

“You’re kinda beautiful.” You say, staring at him.

“I think I’m the one that’s supposed to say that.” He says, leaning in closer. “You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your cheeks heat up, a goofy smile tugging at your lips. “Stop. I am not.”

He cups your face, his gloved thumb tracing your cheek. “Of course you are. You were made for me, after all.”

Your lips meet, a spark shooting through you. You feel warm and light, pure energy racing through your nerves. His grip tightens on you, pulling you closer against him. He's warm and solid, like a cabin during an ice storm.

He groans quietly against your lips, pulling you into his lap. You settle against him, tilting your head as the kiss deepens. You hadn't really planned on going this far, but you now understand why people say once you meet your soulmate, it's uncontrollable.

He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. "I don't want to feel like I'm rushing you."

You smile. "I want this too. I don't think I could stop."

He wraps his arms around your waist, flipping you easily onto your back. "Good. I don't think I can either."

He presses his lips back against yours, slotting his body against you. He's all lean muscle, fitting perfectly against you. He presses even closer, something hard poking against your thigh.

You smile into the kiss, shifting your hips slightly to create some friction. You're already damp, your body well prepared for this moment. It had been building up for weeks. You can tell now, how much you'd been yearning for him, even if you hadn't noticed before.

His lips trail down your jaw, charting a path down your throat. You arch into him, fingers digging into his broad shoulders. You tug at his blacks, one of his hands reaching back to pull the top off over his head.

You run your fingers down his chest, feeling over every bump and scar.

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, tucking his face back into your neck. You have a few too he’ll want to know about. “Right now, I want to see you.”

You smirk up at him. “Then you best get to work, Captain.”

He matches your smirk, sitting up on his heels. “That’s brave, issuing orders to your commanding officer.”

“Well, in certain situations, I outrank you.” You reply.

He unbuckles your med kit, setting it on the floor. “Don’t tell me Kix has been putting ideas in your head.” His hands slip under your shirt, trailing along your skin. “I’ll make a pass, though. This is one situation where I don't mind being told what to do.”

You gape up at him for a moment. “Do you...like being told what to do, Captain?”

He pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Your breastband quickly follows, heat blossoming across your neck and chest as he stares at you. You feel a bit self-conscious under the intensity of his gaze. “Only if it’s you.” He says. “You’re so beautiful.”

You smile shyly, reaching out for him. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

“Definitely more beautiful than me.” He says, leaning into your touch.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you.” You say, caressing his face.

“Then I won’t make you wait any longer.” He presses a kiss to your lips before sitting back up, undoing his belt. He slips his pants off, tugging yours off as well.

You should feel self conscious being bare in front of him, especially only knowing him for a short time, but it feels natural. You know it’s natural. You were meant to be together.

He slots his body against yours once more, his hard length pressing up against your core. You’re already wet in anticipation, more than ready to seal your bond completely. It’s a bit strange after having thought you might get rejected if you ever revealed it to him, but you’re glad he’s at least willing to break the rules about this.

His hips grind against yours, dragging his length against your folds. You moan, spreading your legs further for him. You want him as close as possible. You need to have him as close as possible.

“You’re so wet for me.” He groans, dragging his hips against yours.

“I need you.” You whimper, arms wrapping around him. “Kriff, please Rex.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says, kissing your throat before he reaches down, lining himself up.

Hearing him say it stirs something in you, heat rushing straight between your legs. You slot that away for later, focusing instead on him as he slowly presses into you. The stretch burns a bit, but he goes slow, moving inch by inch until he’s seated inside you. You shiver at the close contact, your body coming alive from how connected you are.

“Kriff, you’re so tight.” He groans, dropping to his elbows over you. “Fit me so perfectly.”

“Well, I was made for you.” You say, wrapping your arms back around him.

“So perfect for me.” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips.

He begins moving, small thrusts as he drags his hips against yours. You cling to him, wanting him as close as you can get him. The sensations and the thought of having him so close set every nerve ending alight in your body, energy thrumming through you. You know it's the connection, the link you share coming alive.

You love the feeling of it.

It’s a bit sloppy and awkward, as neither of you are experts. You don’t care though, the pleasure still building as picks up speed. He’s close too, you can tell by the desperation of his movements. You slip a hand down between you, circling your clit as you near the edge.

He stills as he cums, your own orgasm washing over you at the same time. You cling to him, holding him as close as possible as you ride out your highs together.

“How much time do you think we have?” You say, holding him on top of you.

“More than enough.” He says, letting himself sink closer to you. “I told Fives to keep them out as long as possible.

***

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You had been so comfortable and comforted by Rex’s presence, you had just drifted off without trying.

It’s the arrival of the other troopers that has drawn you from your slumber. Rex’s arm tightens around your waist, obviously having heard their return as well. So much for keeping this a secret.

You hope maybe they’ll all stumble to bed tiredly and not even look in your direction. You’re hidden from the door by Rex’s body, his arm pulling the sheet up higher inconspicuously.

“I see the Captain’s been busy while we were away.” A smug voice says.

“Ha! I called it! You owe me 20 credits!” Another voice calls out.

“Fives,” Rex growls, going to turn around, but you sit up, clutching the sheet to your chest. You’re still very much naked.

“Wait, did you bet on us?” You ask in disbelief.

“You owe me another 20!” Hardcase exclaims, slapping Jesse’s shoulder.

Rex wraps an arm around you, pulling you back down. “Let them have their fun. I’ll make them all do extra rounds in the training room tomorrow.”

There’s a simultaneous groan from all of them as they shuffle to their bunks to get ready.

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika. Your secret is safe with us.” Hardcase says.

“Just as long as I don’t feel the bunk shaking.” Jesse says, climbing up to the top bunk.

“No promises.” Rex smirks, wrapping his arms back around you.

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry

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wonwoostoilet · 23 days

Note

Both! Both is good shy Obi who then respectfully doms!!!!

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader (Clone Wars era)

Words: 34,895 (things clearly got out of hand)

Warnings: lap dance, lots of touching, Obi-Wan wholeheartedly consents but he feels guilty that he's enjoying the “attention” (in the beginning at least), scent kink, lots of kissing, lots of fluids, shy to respectfully-dominant Obi-Wan, Oral (male receiving), squirting, some humiliation/dirty talk, overstimulation, slight religion kink, slight praise kink, slight breeding kink, incorrect use of the Force.

Summary: “And what-” the words die in his throat as soon as he feels the heat of your mouth engulf his thumb completely, and he clenches his jaw tightly when your tongue swirls around his finger several times until it’s completely drenched with your drool. “I apologize, what have you thought of when you studied them?” He manages to ask when you finally stop torturing him, but the relief barely remains because you drop his hand suddenly and throw your head back in pleasure when his palm accidentally grazes your breast, the wet thumb barely coming in contact with your nipple before he’s snatching his hand away as if you were molten fire. You snap your attention back to him a moment later, smiling to yourself when you see his pink features blush a deeper shade of red.

A/N: I refuse to apologize for whatever this is. This is not-so-loosely based on one of my less-dignifying posts which @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories decided to make better and which I dedicate this to. I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I did writing it. This is not beta’d so if you see anything misspelled, know that it is because I was flustered while writing this lovely story. You can add yourself to the taglist here.

An almost bored expression takes over your features as soon as your comlink beeps and signals a request for a private dance. When you notice how long the requested time is, you ask your handler to lead the client to the VIP room, and let them know that you will be there in a few minutes. You smile at the gentlemen flocking around you like a bunch of loth-cats in heat and excuse yourself, telling them that you will happily enjoy some more time with them once you finish the private dances for the night. Turning around to the stage, you signal one of the twileks to come and take your place so you don’t leave them without any service, and as you make your way to the private dance rooms, you can’t help but turn around to glance across the floor briefly, eyes immediately searching for the familiar brown and beige robes that have graced the establishment for some time now.

Strange, he didn’t come today.

You shake your head in disappointment and make your way past the smaller rooms, fixing your lingerie and hair with each step you take so you look presentable to the client. Whoever it was, they certainly didn’t beat around the bush, asking for a longer time than usual and agreeing to the price of your services without making a fuss to your handler. You throw a kiss to the gentleman guarding the door of the room, and when you see the teasing smile he’s throwing at you, you narrow your eyes at him and take a step closer to the door.

“Anything I should know about our guest?” You raise an eyebrow at him when he immediately shrugs his shoulders and steps out of your way. .

“I know nothing sweetheart…except that I might not see you for the rest of the night.” It’s the first time anyone has dared to respond so crudely to you but you aren’t in the mood to give him a piece of your mind so you shoo him away and tell him not to disturb you. When he’s out of sight, you return your attention to the closed door and send a quick prayer to the maker that whoever it is wouldn’t try anything strange with you, or at least nothing that you aren’t willing to get onboard with.

Dropping your gaze to the ground, you stretch your shoulders and knock twice before pushing the button on the side of the wall, the soft sound of the door swishing open giving you another few moments of peace before you meet the challenge of the night. You walk in slowly but don’t bother to raise your head just yet, instantly reaching for the lock on the door to push it so you can let the client know you will not be disturbed for quite some time.

It’s only when you turn around and allow your eyes to gaze at the figure sitting in the middle of the couch that you finally catch onto the meaning of the words thrown at you not a moment ago.

Kriff, he was even more beautiful up close.

And his gaze was unwavering in its intensity, making you forget how to breathe for a moment before you remember why he was here. Forcing yourself to remain calm, you offer him your friendliest smile before slowly approaching him. But a few steps is all it takes for you to recognize how uncomfortable he is in your presence. Whereas you would normally accompany your client on the couch, perhaps tease them a little with soft touches to their shoulders or brief caresses to their hair, you opt to remain farther away from him. His body language visibly eases when he notices the sudden halt in your movement, and he gulps nervously before he corrects his posture and tries to appear more confident than he is.

You get the sense that this man was not used to feeling so out-of-place, and you think that this may have gone a little more your way if you weren’t showing so much skin. He certainly didn’t appear to be uncomfortable by the environment, far from it if the last week proved anything. It was most likely due to the state of your attire, or lack thereof. Tilting your head to the side, you giggle when you look into his eyes and see a bead of sweat form just above his brow, the furrowed muscles giving him away instantly.

He definitely didn’t appreciate what you were wearing.

Or maybe, considering what you learned fairly quickly about his line of work, he was perhaps a little too appreciative of your almost nude figure, and the guilt was eating away at him because of said lifestyle.

“I was wondering when I’d have the pleasure of your company.” You let your hands roam over the flimsy material of your lingerie, barely holding back from laughing out loud when you see the handsome stranger clench his jaw tightly in irritation.

Or was that appreciation?

He must take notice of how closely you’re studying him because in an instant, his facial expression grows neutral, and he raises a curious eyebrow at you, his lips upturning slightly in an attempt to tease you in return. Oh, this was definitely going to be entertaining, perhaps more enjoyable than you initially thought.

“You’re acting surprised for someone who’s been here for an entire week and never asked for a private room.” You remark as you take hold of the pole in the middle of the room, twirling your body around it once before you rest your forehead against it, eyes refusing to look anywhere else by the blue, slowly darkening orbs staring into your soul.

“Surely my presence was not obvious.” As soon as the words leave his mouth and reveal the low guttural sound of his voice, a coarse shiver takes over your body, and you have to grasp onto the pole tightly to try and ground yourself. If he sees the way his voice affects you, he chooses to say nothing and instead crosses his legs while fixing his robes. Your attention falls instantly on the dangerous weapon hanging on the belt around his waist, but you turn away before you think more of how you’d like him to thoroughly use you for his pleasure.

“Maybe to others it wasn’t,” you remark as you raise your knees against the pole and allow him to get an eyeful of your inner thighs, “but it sure was to me.” The second his eyes shift below your neck, you bite into your lower lip and smile as his cheeks suddenly become a deeper shade of pink.

“I find that hard to believe.” You turn around to avoid his gaze, knowing that he will surely notice the reaction of your body to his voice. He’s only spoken twice thus far, but you come to accept rather quickly that there was nothing you could ever deny him should he continue to speak with such an arousing, soft baritone to you. When you face him again and see how adamant he is on keeping his sight above your neckline, you decide to push him a little, wanting to get a closer look into his personality.

“Why? Because I’m just another whore selling her body for money, or because I must be stupid since I’m just another whore selling her body for money?” You continue to dance for him, completely ignoring the wince he offers in distaste of your diction as he reorients himself on the couch.

“You gravely misunderstand me, my lady. I only meant to remark on your exceptionally discerning abilities when this fine establishment promises the utmost attention when- when being served privately.” He struggles a little in his response, and you can’t help but giggle at the respectful manner he upholds even further out of fear of offending you by accident again.

“He’s smart and polite. You’re definitely not from these parts of the woods.” Your words briefly put him at ease, but then his body language shifts once more when you slide your hands across your barely covered skin and throw your head back to give him a full view of your stretched neck. You flutter your eyes at him when you return his gaze, amusement washing over you as soon as he clears his throat and pretends to study his surroundings.

“The color of the room isn’t pleasing to you.” You comment when you notice the pout he gives at the dominating color overshadowing the two of you, and for a split second, you are distracted by thoughts of him dominating you right at the center of this very room.

“Red is not my color, but it will suffice for now.” Your amusement turns into irritation when you realize his attempts of painting an untruthful image of himself for your sake at the expense of his discomfort. The thought of being the cause of his tense muscles and uneasy aura makes you uncomfortable, and you stop your routine long enough for him to take notice and finally meet your eyes again.

“I’m sure it isn’t…Master Jedi.” You assumed he would reveal his identity to you as soon as you walked into the room, but the fact that he was taking so long to start the session was beginning to hold the opposite effect of whatever he was intending. When a rather shocked and almost lost expression meets your curious orbs, you groan in regret for revealing your knowledge of his identity.

Kriff, he wasn’t planning on telling you at all.

“Don’t act so surprised…and don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone what you are. Tell me then, which of those lovely gentlemen I spent time with last week recommended me?” You sigh in relief when his shoulders visibly relax at your admission, and you sway your hips down to the ground until you’re kneeling across from him. He gulps nervously and finally allows his eyes to roam your body when you palm the pole and bring your thighs around the cold metal. Slowly, you raise yourself and rub your core against the pole long enough to startle him. The lewd motions come to a stop, however, when he responds to you with yet another question.

“I beg your pardon?” His voice is hoarse, that you are sure of, and you decide to put him out of his misery and settle down for a moment until he answers your question. Unfortunately for him, your lack of movement seems to distract him further, and you clear your throat loudly to snap him out of whatever spiraling thoughts overtaking his mind. He must notice the deeper shade his features are becoming because he reaches for his beard and strokes it as if he was searching for an answer in response to an important business question.

“Don’t be shy, tell me. I only wish to repay them the favor for sending me such a fine specimen as yourself.” You coo at him, hoping that the calm tone of your voice would in turn pacify him, or at the very least, show that you meant him no harm. He blinks at you in confusion before he inhales deeply, and you swear he is purposely trying to hypnotize you with his body language, the thought coming to you rather humorously because it was your job to flirt with him, not the other way around.

“I- I am uncertain to whom or what you are referring to.” He is rather serious when he finally breaks the silence, and your smile fades for a moment at the odd sentiment before you nod in return and smirk at him yet again.

“Huh, so you’re not here on recommendation…which means, you’re here by luck or you’re on the job.” You raise an eyebrow when his jaw clenches tightly, and if it wasn’t your job to read people with one glance, you would have missed the way his entire body becomes rigid at your conclusion. He breaks your gaze and quickly scans the room, the action letting you know that he was by no means in your company by accident.

No, he wanted to be here. Or perhaps, needed to be here for an important reason, one that left him no other option but to pay for your time.

“On the job then.” You sigh heavily before sauntering towards him, and making yourself comfortable to his left. You leave enough space between the two of you for his sake, not wanting to give him any reason to leave you so soon. There was something about his presence that felt oddly comforting, even though he clearly did not want to be here.

“How did you know who I am?” The Jedi finally asks, and you take the chance of finally meeting his eyes to bring both of your legs up onto the couch, and resting your cheek on your knees. Your skin glistens with goosebumps when he allows his attention to roam down your exposed skin, and you shrug your shoulders in response as soon as he looks at you with a warning expression.

“For one, your clothes give it away. Word of advice, if you want to lay low in these parts of town, don’t go around wearing your most Jedi-looking robes. Makes you stand out like eye candy…not that you need any help in that area.” The neutral look on his face falls for a split second when he registers the compliment, but you don’t comment on it, instead throwing your arm across the back of the couch until the tips of your fingers graze his cloak. He flinches at the sudden touch but relaxes almost immediately when he realizes you won’t become more bold with your handling of him.

“And I happen to know a few Jedi myself. Your kind comes by here all the time.” You tilt your head to the side and bite into your lower lip as soon as his eyes widen in shock at what you just admitted to him. But his eyebrows furrow soon after and he looks down to the floor, not bothering to hide the distaste of your revelation as he strokes his beard again.

Kriff, you desperately wanted him to stop doing that.

“Just because you don’t partake doesn’t mean others don’t as well.” Your tone is not as welcoming as before, and he must sense your dislike of his reaction because he shakes his head as if to apologize for how his reaction may have come off.

“You have…entertained Jedi before?” The reluctance swimming in between his inquisitive words almost makes you lean back in laughter, but you force those giggles down and instead dwell on his diction and the attempts at being respectful towards you.

“Oh I did more than entertain sweetheart, otherwise they wouldn’t keep coming back from more. I suspected one of them sent you here to let loose a bit and you were just making sure I’m up to standards, which is why it took you so long to come here, but it seems that I was mistaken.” To his credit, the Jedi Master tries his best to give you his undivided attention as you respond to him, but you choose to look anywhere but his eyes for fear of giving yourself away should he finally understand how much of an effect he has on you.

“May I ask who had the pleasure of your company?” You are a little surprised by his line of questioning, mostly because you didn’t think he would want to know anything of the sort, let alone discuss other Jedi’s intimate habits in the presence of someone who clearly knew more than she was letting on.

“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell, Master.” As soon as that last exclamation leaves your lips, the man inhales deeply and hides his blush behind a thoughtful expression. His eyes betray him, however, when you watch him drag his intense gaze down your body before zeroing in on your lips.

“Hmm, and it wouldn’t be good for business if I go around and start telling people who I spend time with here. After all, you have a reputation to live up to. What would happen to the good people of Coruscant if they knew their beloved Jedi enjoyed fucking like animals in their downtime?” You look at him through heavy-lidded eyes, wanting him to know that you caught him eye-fucking you while pretending he wasn’t interested. The obscene response makes him wince, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s never heard profanity in his years serving the galaxy.

“My apologies, I forget how prudish some of you are.” You graze his arm with your fingers as you apologize, feigning innocence as you squeeze his clothed muscles before taking your hand away once more.

“I am not a prude.” He sounds a little amused, but you can tell he was still having a difficult time keeping up with this game.

“In that case, I will try to watch my language so I don’t offend your sensibilities.” Your declaration distracts him yet again, not because of the clear lies hidden behind your promise but because you choose to lower one of your legs and push it underneath the other, giving him a perfect view of your barely clothed pussy slowly soaking the flimsy material shielding you from his eyes. He knows what you’re doing, and you quietly applaud him for not falling into your trap so easily and turning his head towards the lighting of the room instead.

“Would you like me to change the color of the room then, perhaps match those pretty blue eyes of yours?” If you were being honest, those beautiful orbs were no longer blue, and you got the sense that he knew just as well how dilated his pupils were at the moment.

“That will be unnecessary, my lady.” His voice is more balanced than moments ago, more confident as it wraps deliciously around the title he decided to grace you with. You shouldn’t be surprised by his politeness, especially since he’s been nothing but respectful to you ever since he walked in. But you are stunned at the word he chose to call you, only because no one has ever associated you, in this line of work, with such a title before.

“I’ve been called many things before, never ‘my lady.’”

“I do not mean to offend you. If you wish-” Panic washes over him at your remark, and you reach for him once more to set his mind at ease when he stutters through an apology. He grows silent when he feels your hand grasp his forearm, but unlike before, when his whole body tensed at the mere touch of your hands, he doesn’t flinch now and slowly turns his whole body to face you.

“Relax sweetheart, I don’t care what you call me as long as you’re enjoying yourself.” You don’t let go of him just yet, wanting to test out his comfort with the proximity between the two of you.

“That is a rather horrifying sentiment, which I can happily discuss with you once my business here is finished.” The amusement is evident in his voice, and you chuckle at his need to illustrate his rather progressive opinion on your claims. If only he knew what the others called you when they visited your chambers every other week. The more you think about it, the more you recognize the deep need slowly filling your chest for him to call you all sorts of unholy names if it meant he was bringing you pleasure and using you for his own.

“Business then.” You break the silence out of fear of what you might do should he continue to look at you in such a way. The man had an uncanny ability of knowing just what to say and how to move to hypnotize you, and you were beginning to feel weak from the simple action of maintaining contact with his darkening blue eyes.

“I’m here for the man you have entertained several times this past week,” you admire his ability to move on from, what he probably considered, a rather uncomfortable conversation. But as the question settles in your mind, your admiration becomes nothing but a deep irritation. He was involving you in business you did not wish to be a part of, and whether or not he knew how dangerous this could be for you, you knew he would not leave until he got the information he came for.

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” You move away from him and pretend to pick at the loose strands of one of the pillows behind you. His attention doesn’t falter once, and you hate how difficult it suddenly is to breathe in his presence. You got the sense that it would not be easy to lie to him and decide to feign ignorance instead.

“Has he ever spoken a word to you about any shipments he smuggles through Coruscant?” The Jedi Master continues his questioning, and you hate how quickly his tone turns from one of curiosity to hope.

“What shipments?” You ask in return and turn to look at him, instantly regretting the action when you realize he can sense that you are hiding something from him.

“He is a notoriously dangerous smuggler, my lady. He must have revealed even the smallest of details by accident.” The man shifts his body towards you, reaching out to touch your hands as they continue to fiddle with the black covers stretched around the pillow. A sizzling heat courses across your skin when you feel his warm hand atop your own, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was practically interrogating you on one of your clients, you would have returned the gesture and made him blush. Instead, you slip your hands away and relax against the back of the couch, the hint of hurt flashing across the gentleman’s features not going unnoticed by you.

“You must really think me a bore if you truly believe that “notoriously dangerous” men will speak of their work while I’m…what is it you said, entertaining them.” You respond perhaps a little too angrily, and you watch as his expression turns yet again to a somewhat neutral impression at your unnecessary outburst.

“I am sure you are marvelous in your craft but-” He looks to the ground as he speaks, but you don’t give him a chance to continue, knowing that he might easily get the upper hand on you if you let him soothe you over with gentle compliments.

“But I can’t be that good.” His gaze shoots up as soon as you throw those words at him, and you can’t help but smile when you see his attempts to hide his embarrassment. Against your better judgment, you cross your legs and slowly twirl your hair around your fingers, hoping that your confirmation of his suspicions would suffice for now and prevent him from asking more questions.

“Well, if you must know Master Jedi, Barlac did in fact mention a thing or two about the shipments he smuggles through here. But I’ll have you know, he only spoke of these matters when he was having a moment of respite. I work hard you see, and sometimes, my clients like to take a break before we return to our…extracurricular activities.” Without thinking much, you tease him about his earlier remark, barely managing to hold back your giggles when the pretty blush that spread across his cheeks a moment ago deepens and descends down to his neck.

“I see.” The curt response is reluctant, and you watch as he rubs his beard several times, most likely thinking of the name you had just given him.

“Don’t pout like that, it’s distracting.” You don’t realize what you blurted out until he looks up at you with nothing but shock filling his eyes, the hands on his chin ceasing all movement when he realizes you were being dead serious. Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of having the man touch you so intimately, but you knew better than to go down that line of thinking now of all times.

“Well, aren’t you going to make me an offer for the information?” You break the silence, hoping that the question distracts him from what you just admitted. You had assumed that he would jump at the chance, but when he relaxes against the back of the couch and rings his fingers, you realize that he was debating continuing this little chat.

“I have insulted you more times than I dare count, my lady. I fear I have lost any right I may have had to continue this conversation.” It is not the answer you expect out of him, especially now when you were willing to give him whatever knowledge he came for. The shy persona that takes over turns you on more than it should, especially when you have only pictured the Jedi in more compromising and violent positions, most of which involve you completely surrendering to his dominant demands.

“Do all Jedi give up this easily?” You let your arm fall behind him again, biting into your lower lip when you manage to touch the tips of his hair without having him shy away from you.

“Far from it, my darling. But unlike the others, I know when I should hold my tongue.” The pet name is surprising, so much so that you can’t control your thighs from clenching tightly as you imagine him calling you ‘his darling’ as he rails into you from behind.

“A true sign of a gentleman. But I still think you should try and make me an offer.” You are proud of how little you falter, more so because of how direct his gaze seems to be as he stares at you. There’s something on his mind, but you know better than to expect him to reveal it to you now so you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say.

“I will humor your remarks merely because you have been patient with mine. How much do you require in return for what you know?” He crosses his arms, and you swallow the lump in your throat at the slightly deeper and more strict tone his voice takes when he gives you his undivided attention yet again. Silence fills the space as you try your best to get control of the situation once more, but you know as soon as he smirks at you that you would never be fully in charge when it came to him.

“I have no need for your credits.” You bite your lower lip and wait for him to register what you’re after.

“You will have me beg only to refuse my offer?” His question is not the response you are hoping for, and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes at him or simply straddling his lap to show him what you had in mind.

“You and I both know that cannot pass for begging. And besides, I may be cruel but only when I’m paid to be. I would never lead you on if I wasn’t sure you can deliver.” You are sure your words will drive the message across, but when he continues to look at you with nothing but confusion etched on his pretty face, you throw all caution out the window and get a little more forward with him. As slowly as you can, you slither your fingers across his jaw and down to his neck, not pausing for a moment as you descend to his chest and rest the palm of your hand on top of his heaving chest.

“What I want is not on the financial spectrum…but more physical in nature.” You make no other move on him, knowing that this is probably more than what he bargained for when he first entered the establishment. You sense the unease rolling off of him in heavy waves, and when you notice that he cannot take it anymore, you remove your hand and bring it to your nose, not caring for how ridiculous you look as you sniff it to try and get a whiff of his scent.

“P-Physical?” His voice breaks momentarily, and you almost apologize for making him uncomfortable, but then you study his body language and recognize all the signs you usually look for in a client.

The ones that tell you when they were ready for you.

“One hour of your time. That’s all I ask for.” You lean over until your lips almost touch his ears, whispering gently against his skin in hopes of easing whatever worries storming his mind.

“T-to do what exactly?” He clears his throat before he speaks, and if you weren’t still unsure of whether you were forcing yourself on him or not, you would have attacked his neck then and there to show him how much you craved him.

“I think you know.” He sucks in a deep breath at the sound of your confirmation, and you instantly regret how strongly you are coming onto him when you look down and see how tight he’s holding onto his knees.

“I- I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” It’s not the question you want to ask, but it is the one that escapes your lips when you finally move away from him and stand up. You have no right to ask him such an intimate question, and before you can apologize for your lack of propriety, the Jedi responds to you with such decisiveness that halts your thought process.

“Can’t.” He answers immediately, the quickness hurting you more than you cared to admit.

“I see.” You say nothing else as you lazily twirl around the cold pole in front of him, purposely letting the moment die out for his sake. He tries to catch your attention several times, but you ignore him and continue to distract yourself with the coolness sliding against your flushed skin.

“That’s hardly fair and you know it.” A hint of anger slips through his words, and you raise an eyebrow at him when you turn around and watch his features harden soon after. You were prepared to let it go, but the manner in which he gazes upon you, as if you were being unbelievably unhinged forces you to respond in kind.

“For me perhaps, certainly not for you.” You say in passing as you move towards the flasks on the table beside him. You don’t bother elaborating on your comment as you pour drinks for the two of you, but when you hand him his glass and watch the way his eyes shine with curiosity and reluctance, you sigh and step towards the pole on the platform once more.

“You’re telling me you find it unfair for you that I would both pleasure you and give you the information you seek in return for an hour of your time and no credits?” You down your drink instantly before setting it on the floor, unsure of where this conversation was now going.

“You cannot, in good faith, expect me to be so intimate with you, a complete stranger who may harm me in a moment of…vulnerability?” He hesitates, and you don’t bother stopping the laughter from bubbling up your throat at the last relayed sentiment. He must have considered you a great deal of danger if he thought you were capable of hurting him, a Jedi Master.

“Harm you with what? By all means, search me if you must.” You step towards him, and without thinking twice of why your actions could possibly prevent you from ever seeing him again, you unclip your bra and roll the straps down your arms, tossing it behind you before you place your hands on your hips and shrug your shoulders at him. The man’s eyes shoot wide open as he turns away from you to give you some semblance of privacy. You twirl around several times before seating yourself on the platform right next to his feet, purposely stretching your legs out to touch his calves. He glances at you once and clenches his jaw tightly when he notices your thighs fall wide open, giving him a perfect view of your clothed cunt.

“I- I think, perhaps, I should leave.” He’s finding it extremely difficult to breathe, that much you can tell, and you would consider it a small victory had it not been for the manner in which he rubs his knees harshly to focus on anything but your nude form.

“Hmm, maybe you are just shy after all.” You remark as you close your legs and cross your arms over your breasts to hide yourself from him.

“Well, it was worth a shot I guess. The shipments usually come at night once a week, not on an exact day from what I gathered though. I heard him say something about the new water supply cycle system? They’ll use it to smuggle things on and off world.” You can tell the second he registers what you’re telling him, his head snapping to you as soon as you start talking. You, on the other hand, can’t find it in yourself to look at him, especially now when you were barely clothed and giving him what he wanted all along. You come to regret the decision soon though, when you realize he was not planning on looking elsewhere as you continue to relay all that you knew.

“He also said they’re relying on heavily-populated areas to get by…said the best way to go unnoticed is by doing things out in the open on levels that are too busy for the guards to care for.” You dare to glance at him once, but as soon as you meet his eyes, you turn away instantly, unsure of what exactly his gaze was portraying at the moment.

“Next shipment is tomorrow night, not too far from here. Look for a restaurant with a logo that has a loth-cat riding on top of a droid…and I only know that because I remember him saying an extremely disgusting joke about paying to watch a loth-cat actually ride a droid…fucking bastard.” You try to ease the awkwardness of the circumstances the two of you now found yourselves in, but when he doesn’t budge, let alone make a sound to convey shock or gratitude, you stand up and turn to face the doorway, wanting to give both you and him a moment to collect yourselves before the eventual, awkward goodbye.

“If there’s nothing else, Master Jedi, I suggest you leave before-” The words die in your throat when you hear him stand up and approach you. Thinking that he was going to move around you to exit, you step aside and face the other way in an attempt to avoid his bold gaze.

“Little one,” the sound of his voice sends a bolt of lightning down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the cloud of compassion slowly showering you with warmth. It’s not until you feel his hand come up and rest on your shoulders that you realize he is not attempting to leave, but to turn you around so you could gaze upon you. You aren’t sure when your embarrassment is replaced with a need to touch him, and you can’t find it in yourself to care as you drop your arms from around your chest and reach for the robes tightly wrapped around his own. You rest both of your hands on top of his heart, wanting to feel grounded before the floor falls from beneath your feet as soon as he breaks the unbearable silence engulfing the two of you.

“You would part with such valuable information, knowing I could walk out this very instance and offer you nothing in return?” You don’t dare look up, afraid that you would break whatever semblance of control still left within you if you find kindness flowing within the blue orbs.

“I- I’m not cruel. I’ve been in this line of work long enough to know that being forced to be with someone takes away a part of you that you can never get back. I’d never want anyone to feel that way, especially someone like you who isn’t as used to this as someone like me.” The self-deprecating chuckle that fills the space between the two of you makes him flinch, and you finally muster up the courage to look up into his eyes when you notice his hands squeeze your shoulders tightly. What you find staring back at you is a feeling you never thought the universe could ever offer you, and you whisper an apology to amend whatever you said that made him uncomfortable.

“Besides, you’re just trying to do your job, and I won’t get in your way if it means you’re saving lives. My…desires…they’re nowhere near as important as whatever you’re trying to do.” The reluctance that halts you right before you admit your need for him makes him inhale deeply and you remove your hands from his body as soon as he takes a step back and walks behind you. You turn around just in time to see him remove the outer robe shielding him from your eyes.

“What- what are you doing?” You ask as he folds it neatly and sets it aside, not once bothering to pay you any attention as he unhooks the infamous, deadly weapon from the belt around his waist and sets it above his robes.

“You asked for an hour of my time,” the man finally responds, and you watch as he sits back on the couch and crosses his legs, the smile etched on his features letting you know that he was far from joking, “and an hour you shall get.”

“As much as I want this, I see reluctance and regret swimming in your eyes. I will not have you this way.” You bite back at him, not caring for your nudity as you approach him and point towards the door. You hope he can see how deadly serious you are in wanting him to leave, the mere thought of touching him in any manner after the clear discomfort he’s revealed to you making you more angry than you wished to be.

“Then in what way shall you have me?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he reaches for his drink and sips from it leisurely, as if he had all the time in the galaxy to continue having this conversation with you. If it weren’t for the fact that he was currently getting on your very last nerve, you would have spent more time admiring his reddened lips as they glistened with the corellian whisky he has ordered on every visit to the establishment.

“As long as you want this as well, I’ll have you in whatever way you’re most comfortable with. But again, I don’t think you truly want this so-” You fiddle with your fingers, the anger surrounding you suddenly ebbing away with each passing moment you continue to hold his gaze. He had an uncanny ability to set you at ease with just a glance, and you weren’t sure if it was because he was a Jedi that may have been controlling you—at least that’s what the rumors always said—or if it was because it was him.

“If- if I asked you to do what you wish with me without removing any of my robes, would you still want me?” He clears his throat mid question, and you snort in response at the absurdity of it. His demeanor, and quick avoidance of your eyes as you chuckle at him, confirm your suspicions from early on.

He had no sense of self-awareness, at least not when it came to understanding how inherently attractive he was.

“I find it difficult to think of any circumstance in which I wouldn’t want you. I have spent a great deal of time thinking of you in the past week. So, believe me when I tell you that I- maker, I desperately want you.” As much as you hate to admit it, you know that there is no point in lying to him after the past few minutes. You are defeated, and it surprises you how little you are annoyed by the admission you just offered him. Whereas you usually try to entice your clients enough for them to spill their desires to you first, you realize that this is much different than all of the others. You want him to know how much you crave him, even if it made you appear pathetic in his eyes. It was preposterous to ever admit to holding feelings for a Jedi, that much you knew from your time with the others, but to be so forward in your neediness in front of one was a one-way ticket to absolute madness.

“You barely know me, sweet one.” The deep accent, mixed with the endearing pet name easily falling from his lips, make you shiver where you stand, and you make your way to the couch to sit down beside him.

“I know enough. I know that touching you, even above your clothes, would give me pleasure I have not known in a long time. I know that looking into your eyes as I dance for you would make my heart beat faster because you- you seem like the kind of man who enjoys holding eye contact when you’re…being attended to. And- and I know that hearing you speak to me in that lovely accent of yours, no matter what you say, would make me come in a matter of minutes.” You wrap your arms around your shoulders again, suddenly feeling shy beneath his gaze. The way his body seems to buzz with energy with every confession you relay to him should have put your mind at ease, but when you look down and notice how tightly his fingers dig into his clothes, you can’t help but become more affected by his presence, and the clear way in which he was reacting to you in return, as if he was barely holding himself back from touching you.

“You don’t have to do much for me to be at your will.” You finally manage to turn your attention to him, and you regret it almost instantaneously when you see the mischievousness etched in his dilated pupils.

Fuck, maybe you weren’t so far off in reading his body language after all.

“Is that so?” His voice is deep, much deeper than a second ago, and you gulp nervously as you acknowledge the reason behind such a change.

“Yes, Master Jedi.” Your answer lingers in the tense air, and you rub your thighs together when you notice his jaw clenching tightly at the sound of his title being whispered with a lewdness unfit to be aimed at him.

“Obi-Wan.” He says as he reaches for his drink, chuckling to himself when he turns back to you and sees confusion written in your eyes.

“My name, sweetheart, is Obi-Wan.” He repeats, and it takes you a moment too long to finally register the name he just claimed as his own. A hint of shock and apprehension takes over you, and if the Jedi Master notices the way your body becomes on edge as soon as you replay his name in your mind, he doesn’t comment, not wanting to give you any reason to feel fearful as well.

“Y-you’re General Obi-Wan Kenobi?” You don’t mean for your voice to come out as squeaky as it does, but the smile that greets you sets your mind at ease. Had you known the man you have been dreaming of for the past few rotations was Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, you would have attempted to stop your mind from wandering sooner.

“You are familiar then?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know that his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes.

“No wonder they leave your image out of the holos…you’re too damn beautiful for your own good. One look at you and the Temple would get an influx of job applications just so people can glance at you.” You allow your eyes to roam down his form more obviously this time, wanting to show him that you were not afraid of continuing whatever game he was playing with you.

“Flattery will not gain you another hour, dear heart.” Obi-Wan teases as he rubs his auburn beard, and once again, you can’t help but lick your lips as you watch his fingers comb through his hair with ease, pretending they were caressing your own chin as you gave yourself to him.

“It’s not flattery, believe me. I’ve seen my fair share of handsome men from across this galaxy, but I must say…none have ever made my mouth water with the mere sight of them.” You say as you cross your legs and throw your arm over the pillow in between the two of you. Ever the gentleman, his eyes never once drop to your breasts, and you get the sense that he was trying his hardest to pretend that he didn’t want to memorize every bit of your nude skin.

“Maker, your tongue is a dangerous weapon, one I should disarm before it causes any more damage.” He turns to face you, mirroring your actions and throwing his own arm behind the back of the couch. His fingers almost descend to touch your forearm, but he holds himself back, unsure of whether he was allowed to be so familiar with you or not.

“If you give me the chance, I can show you just how dangerous it can be.” Unlike him, you stop shying away from his touch, and extend your fingers above until they come in contact with his clothed biceps. You thought he would flinch as soon as he felt your fingers, but he doesn’t and decides to return in kind. He moves his hand down and caresses the top of your shoulder with two fingers, smirking to himself when he sees goosebumps erupt across your skin instantly.

“As tempting as that sounds, I do believe you owe me a dance.” Obi-Wan refuses to take his eyes off from where he’s warming you with his touch, and against your better judgment, you lean down far enough until you feel his knuckles bump against your cheek. You pray that he understands what it is you’re asking of him, and when he lets go altogether and returns far from your reach, you sigh with desperation and move to the platform in front of him.

“Before we start, I need to ask. What am I allowed to do to you?”

“Whatever you desire, as long as it leaves no visible markings.” Obi-Wan’s self-assured smile drops for a moment before it graces his features again, and if you weren’t already so desperate to attend to him, you would have stopped and reminded him that he was welcome to leave any time he wanted to. You twirl once around the pole before making your way to the screen at the other end of the room, scrolling through the varying tunes to find one that you thought perfect for him.

“Where can I touch you, Master Obi-Wan?” You ask as you continue your search, not wanting to turn around until you are sure of the song.

“Wherever you please, my lady.” Whereas he took a few moments to respond to your previous questions, his reply is instantaneous, making you smile at how affected he was quickly becoming by you. As your eyes dance over the different tunes, your fingers stop sliding across the screen when you finally find what you’re looking for. You select the track and clear your throat before turning around to face him.

“You are sure?” You ask one last time, not wanting him to feel any ounce of regret before you begin.

“Positive.” He says as he takes another sip from his drink and licks the droplets adorning his lower lip.

“What if I- if the moment calls for it, may I kiss you?” You approach the pole slowly, reaching for it and sliding your palms up and down the cold steel while maintaining eye contact with him. He chooses this moment to finally take in your nudity, and you nearly topple over when you see him bite his lip and slide one of his hands down his chest until it rests against his navel. You follow the movement like a loth-wolf, only looking away when he clears his throat and speaks.

“You are a needy one, aren’t you?” He scratches his stomach lewdly, and for a brief moment, you think he may move his hand a little lower to cup his crotch and relieve the pain he was surely feeling.

“Please?” You beg as innocently as you can, batting your eyelashes at him as you trail your fingers across your breasts until he groans lowly and slithers his hand lower.

“Since you plead so sweetly, yes. You may kiss me if you wish…wherever you want.” Obi-Wan adds the last bit when he sees you getting distracted by the slow movement of his hand across his crotch, laughing to himself when you trip over your own feet and nearly topple over.

“Maker,” you barely manage to stand up again, reaching for the pole with both of your hands so you don’t embarrass yourself and fall over before you even start. You want to narrow your eyes at him for playing dirty with you, but as the low beat of the song increases in volume, you do your best to shut him out of your mind long enough to regain your composure. As the words finally wash over the room, you twirl around and gently lower your body down the pole, never once breaking eye contact with Obi-Wan as you let the music lead you through the slithering movement.

With each touch of your fingers against your damp skin, Obi-Wan feels his pants growing tighter around his cock, and you smile to yourself when you notice his smirk falter for a breadth of a second before his face suddenly turns blank. You fear that you may not be pleasing to him, but as he drags his attention down your form and palms his crotch slowly, you throw your head back and sigh in relief. You wanted to show him what he’s missing, and as you move to the ground and arch your back along with the sensual tune, you turn to face him again and bite into your lower lip, not caring for how wanton you may appear to him as you spread your thighs wide open and push two fingers into your mouth.

To his credit, he somehow doesn’t react to your behavior, but you notice the hint of red making its way across his sweaty skin as you slide your fingers down your sternum and stomach, making a mess of your drool as you continue until your fingers touch the edge of your lace panties. Obi-Wan doesn’t blink, and part of you wants to ask him if he was feeling unwell, tease him a bit like he has for the past week, but you choose to say nothing and push your fingers into your panties.

He takes in a deep breath through his nose, the hissing sound making you gush down your thighs almost instantly. The sound is more erotic than it should be, and you forgo every reason why you shouldn’t do what you’re about to do next. Before you can think twice of it, you push the flimsy article of clothing aside and rub the wetness glistening across your cunt.

Obi-Wan’s expression becomes stern, and his muscles seize up as soon as you push the tips of your fingers past your wet folds, the shallow thrusts driving out more of your cum for his eyes to commit to memory. He swallows thickly and tilts his head forward, wanting to get a better view of your pussy as you alternate between teasing your clit with figure-eights and pushing your juices in and out of your cunt until they stream down your cheeks.

As soon as he leans his whole body towards you however, you remove your fingers from between your legs and push your body up, kneeling directly in front of him so you can rest your hands on your thighs. The Jedi Master clenches his fists tightly, and you hope that this is what finally pushes him to claim you. But when he doesn’t move another muscle, you pout and fall forward on your hands. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at you, and you aren’t sure if he is angry or unbelievably horny at your teasing. You pray to the maker that it’s a bit of both, and just to push your luck further, you crawl his way and tap against his knees, silently asking him if you are allowed to touch him any further. He says nothing, and for a second, you think he may actually shake his head and ask you to move away from him. Thankfully, you don’t turn your attention elsewhere and manage to notice the little nod of consent he offers you.

As carefully as possible, you move to your feet and turn around, bending down one last time as the music shifts to give him a perfect view of the wet fabric shielding you from his hungry eyes. He moves his hands away from his legs in time for you to descend down and seat yourself in his lap. His thighs are wide open and you shiver when you get comfortable and feel his hard cock jut against your asscheeks. You roll your hips several times and laugh when you glance to the side and see his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s fisting his hands.

Not wanting to drive him away, you throw one leg over each of his thighs and lay back until you can feel his firm stomach support your back. You look up and giggle at the furious gaze already aimed at you, the sound only making the Jedi Master’s eyes glow dangerously. This close, you can smell the intoxicating, masculine scent of him, and it makes you dizzier with each breath you take. For a moment, you forget what you’re meant to be doing, but when the song reaches a high note, you remember your mission and reach your hands above your head, softly caressing the skin of his neck and feeling a sense of pride fill your chest when you feel how hot he is.

You’re about to ask him if he is still willing to have you continue your dance when the song changes and distracts you. As the tune registers in your mind, goosebumps erupt across your skin at the prospect of being at the mercy of the gentleman beneath you. You had expected him to be more disheveled by now, but when you sit up and turn around in his lap, you find him quiet and direct in his gaze. You falter in your actions, unsure of what you should be doing now that you can see how less affected he was than you. You want to break the tense silence filling the air, but as your eyes take in the specimen of the man, you can’t help but reach out and rest both of your palms against his chest. It expands as soon as you begin to gyrate your hips once more, and before you know what you’re doing, you move one hand to his broad shoulders while the other descends down and digs into his stomach. He’s all hard muscle beneath you, and your breath hitches at the prospect of being underneath his body, with nowhere else to go, unable to do anything that he doesn’t allow.

The sound of his soft laugh scares you out of your haze, and you remove your hands immediately, not wanting to offend him by your forwardness. Before you can completely move off of him, however, Obi-Wan reaches for your wrists and pulls on them until you’re seated fully on top of him again. His eyes roam down your flushed skin before returning to your own dilated orbs, not saying anything as he continues to chuckle and puts your hands on his chest. He doesn’t let go until he’s sure you won’t move away from him, and as soon as he removes his grip, you mourn the loss of his touch, looking down at your skin to see if the fire spreading across your fingertips was real or if it was merely a feeling he imprinted on your body.

“I- I must really not be pleasing to you if you’re looking at me and laughing.” You crack a smile, but it barely reaches your ears. You hope that he doesn’t notice how disappointed you are in his reaction to your performance, but when you turn your attention from his collar to his features, you can tell that he can see the sudden lack of excitement exuding from your whole body.

“It is not your performance I find amusing, little one, but the manner in which you gaze upon me.” Obi-Wan remarks as he allows himself to touch you more intimately, sliding his palms up and down your thighs as if he was trying to calm down a loth-cat. You shiver at the contact, not bothering to hide the effect he was having on you as you melt against him and slowly place your hands atop his. He doesn’t stop, and instead smiles softly at you as he reaches past your upper thighs and grabs your hips. He squeezes you gently, and when your breath hitches at the heat spreading across your form, he holds onto you a little bit harder until you can’t help but meet his gaze.

“How so?” The question barely comes out louder than a whisper, and you watch with fascination as the Jedi Master shamelessly eyes your heaving chest and licks his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples.

“Of the two of us, I am more decent. Yet you look upon me as if I am a jorgan fruit when it is I who should consider you among the ripest of sweets.” The eloquence with which he speaks elevates your heart rate, and you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing until he drags one of your hands to his mouth and lays the softest of kisses right above your wrist. You stop breathing altogether, too captivated by the gesture to focus on anything but him, and the confidence he exuded with something as simple as a kiss.

Obi-Wan doesn’t let go of you, not even when you look away from him and attempt to get back to what you were doing before. He rests your hand on his chest again, letting go of you only to drag his fingers across your nude form until he has your waist beneath his touch. You expect him to guide you across his lap, but he does nothing of the sort, opting to just keep his touch on your heated skin while you take whatever you want from him.

“Hmm, it’s a shame they hide you behind all those hideous Jedi robes.” You say as you guide your hands up and down his chest, not caring for how wanton you must appear to him as you slide one of your fingers past the brown robes covering his chest so you can get a little closer to his body. You know he must be wearing multiple layers but something about feeling his muscles a little better than before sends you into a frenzy, and you roll your hips against his crotch in an attempt to get a rise out of him.

But he wouldn’t be who he is if he didn’t have unspeakable self-control, and you silently curse him for being so contained when he doesn’t even increase pressure on your waist or change his expression to warn you. He just stares, and although the blue in his eyes is barely visible, you can tell that he isn’t going to fall to your antics any time soon.

“Then again, we can’t have you walking around distracting everyone with your impressive form.” You lean forward until his breath fans over your cheeks, and as you turn to the side to kiss his jaw, you slide your hands up his body and cup his neck to make sure he won’t turn away from you. To your surprise, his grip tightens around your waist and pulls you firmly against him. You’re not sure if he wants you to comment on the thickness hitting your inner thigh or not, but you say nothing and enjoy the slow and steady movement he’s leading you through against him.

“On second thought, maybe they should put you in more revealing robes. You can distract the enemy with those thick thighs of yours, perhaps even your hands.” You shut your eyes and whisper into his ears, giggling against his skin as he digs his nails into your muscles and forces you to stop. You want to lean back to get a better look at him, but something tells you that if you were to make eye contact with him now, you would forgo whatever self-respect you still had and get on all fours for him. Thankfully, Obi-Wan breaks the silence and responds to your brazen remarks.

“I have heard many compliments before, but never one addressing my hands.”

“That’s a shame, Master Obi-Wan,” you sit up slowly and wait until you have his undivided attention before you take hold of one of his hands, winking at him as you intertwine your fingers with his own and squeeze them gently, “your hands are the first things I noticed about you.”

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan hums when he sees you drag his hand to your mouth until your lips come in contact with one of his fingers. The low sound emanating from his chest makes you shift across his lap to alleviate the pressure threatening to embarrass you further, and you stick your tongue out to lick the tip of his thumb as soon as you notice his eyes roam down your body and almost take notice of the damp material shielding you from him.

“The way you rub your beard with them when you’re in deep thought makes me wish I could feel them on my skin. They’ve been on my mind all week long if I’m being honest.” You somehow manage to confess your desires to him without tripping over your words, and you choose to suck his thumb deeper into your mouth right as he attempts to respond to you.

“And what-” the words die in his throat as soon as he feels the heat of your mouth engulf his thumb completely, and he clenches his jaw tightly when your tongue swirls around his finger several times until it’s completely drenched with your drool. “I apologize, what have you thought of when you studied them?” He manages to ask when you finally stop torturing him, but the relief barely remains because you drop his hand suddenly and throw your head back in pleasure when his palm accidentally grazes your breast, the wet thumb barely coming in contact with your nipple before he’s snatching his hand away as if you were molten fire. You snap your attention back to him a moment later, smiling to yourself when you see his pink features blush a deeper shade of red.

Unlike before, when you could clearly see discomfort etched across his entire body from how intimately you were touching him, you’re taken aback by how oddly calm he is now, and you gyrate your hips a little more aggressively on top of him when you feel his hands grab even harder onto your waist and push you back and forth against him. Neither of you say anything as he slowly moves against you, and you return your attention to his chest in an attempt to ground yourself. The last thing you expected from him, especially after the earlier conversation, was to be so comfortable in touching you, let alone allow you to be so forward with him. You bite into your lower lip when you see him wet his unfairly-kissable lips, and as he mirrors your actions and his eyes darken the longer he looks at you, you moan at the thought of finally tasting him.

“I thought about if they would feel soft as you trailed them across my neck…or if they would feel calloused from battle as you- maker, as you touched me somewhere more intimate.” Throwing all caution aside, you slither both of your hands down his body until they’re right above his wrists, and before you can get embarrassed by what you’re doing, you drag one of them up your body until he cups one of your breasts, pushing the other one in between your thighs to show him just how much you want him. Obi-Wan sucks in a harsh breath at finally feeling the effect he is having on you, and he barely manages to hold back from fondling your tits or slipping his fingers past your wet panties. He doesn’t dare move a muscle, afraid that whatever spell the two of you were bound by would evaporate and he would be reminded why he shouldn’t be here, beneath you, allowing you to touch him so carelessly. Before he can take his hands back, however, you finish the rest of your confession and send his thoughts into a frenzy, one he hoped he would never fall into again.

“I thought of how difficult it would be for me to break from them if you held me down as you- stars, as you moved against me.” With each word you whisper to him, you thrust your crotch harshly against the hard outline on his trousers, all the while moaning his name when his hands flex unintentionally and send a strike of pleasure down your spine. He is yet to move his fingers on top of you, but you find ecstasy in the warmth of his skin regardless. When you look down and see his eyes glaze over with pure desperation, you stop moving your hips and lean forward until you’re a hairbreadth away from his lips.

“I thought of how deliciously painful they would feel if you tugged on my hair as you, hmm.” You don’t finish the rest of your sentiment, a part of you hoping that this would be the push he needs to put the two of you out of your misery. Obi-Wan says nothing for what feels like hours, but as soon as you tilt your head to the side and hover your lips over his, he breaks the silence and shuts his eyes in anticipation.

“As I what?”

He expects you to finish what you started, let go and mold your lips with his until neither of you can breathe. He even parts his lips and leans forward to let you know that he doesn’t mind whatever you want to do to him. But when he doesn’t feel you grow closer to him, his eyes flutter open and he furrows his eyebrows as he registers the smirk etched on your pretty features.

“I don’t want to offend your sensibilities, remember?” You whisper to him teasingly, and if Obi-Wan hadn’t spent decades mastering the art of self-control, he’s sure he would have had you caged beneath him on the floor within the blink of an eye. You raise a curious eyebrow at him, letting out a faint giggle when you look into his eyes and see the fury threatening to overtake you at any given moment. In all honesty, you expect him to pull you into his embrace and kiss you harshly until you can’t feel anything but him. You even thought he would ask you before he would do such a thing, seeing as he was more of a gentleman than the others who visited you.

Or so you thought…

What you don’t expect, however, was to suddenly feel his hand combing through your hair and tugging on it violently until the only thing you could register was the pain spreading across your scalp. You fall forward rather unceremoniously, crying out in a mixture of ecstasy and hurt when he drags the other hand up your body and rests it across your neck. You barely have any time to come to terms with what’s happening, and as you try to sit up so you can look into his eyes, the Jedi Master brings you flush against him and sits up, not bothering to apologize for the way he’s manhandling you as he applies more pressure on your neck to grab your attention.

“As. I. What?” He spits the words out while studying your features for any discomfort, and you smile deeply at him the harder he chokes the air out of your lungs. The hand in your hair tugs violently onto your locks and you try to throw your head back to move along with him, but he doesn’t let you, instead keeping your head centered so you can’t look anywhere else but into his eyes. What you find staring back at you should be terrifying, the sheer need to possess and claim every bit of you coming to light so naturally to him, but you swallow the lump in your throat and surrender yourself completely to him, knowing that you would never be safer than you were in this moment.

“As you fucked me until the whole of Coruscant knew who was making me feel so kriffing good.” You choke through the words, whimpering his name to plead with him one last time in hopes of finally getting what you want. The sound of his name falling from your lips must be all he needs to hear because your entire body falls forward soon after, and you are met with a pair of soft, hungry lips covering your own in a heated kiss. You're shocked by the turn of events, but the surprise wears off a second later when Obi-Wan sneaks his tongue into your mouth and begins to taste you. You want to maneuver yourself to get more comfortable, but the hold he has on you doesn’t give you any room to move a muscle without his approval. He must know what you want to do because he tilts your head to the side and moans as you melt against him and part your lips wider. You shiver at his dominant touch, grasping onto his robes to keep yourself grounded when the hand in your hair slides down your backside and pushes you impossibly closer to him.

Your lips fall apart at the intimacy of the moment, and you feel your skin flush with goosebumps at being so naked with a fully-dressed Jedi beneath you. He doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your lips until you can no longer breathe, until the only option left for you is to silently beg him to break apart. Your heaving chest draws his attention for a fraction of a second, his eyes trailing down your neck to your sternum with a hunger he never thought he would feel again. When you don’t open your eyes, Obi-Wan leans down and licks across your clavicle, moaning your name repeatedly as the taste of your sweet perfume and sweat seeps into his senses. You call out his name repeatedly, pushing your breasts closer to his mouth in an attempt to tempt his lips to wrap around your nipples and stake his claim on you. Obi-Wan takes advantage of your incoherence, pulling away from your nude body until you were no longer experiencing the heat of his body. He waits until your eyes flutter open before he completely lets go of you and rests his hands on his thighs.

“Good girl, now get on your knees.” He eyes your shaking form and chuckles to himself at the ease with which he already has you wrapped around his finger.

“W-what?” You try to escape the haze he’s placed you under, but all you can think of is the heated look he’s giving you as he reaches over and grabs his drink. You’re still seated in his lap, but unlike before, when he ensured you were touching every bit of him, Obi-Wan spreads his legs wider until you can only straddle one of his thighs.

“I said, on your knees.” He nods towards the ground, taking a sip from his drink and making a show of swallowing the bitter liquid as you obey him and move to the space in between his thighs. You keep your hands on his knees, unsure of where exactly you were allowed to touch him. Your compliance makes his cock painfully hard, and he hisses in discomfort when he tries to adjust himself and only brings his crotch closer to your mouth. It’s getting extremely difficult to breathe, and Obi-Wan attempts to distract himself by reaching for your hair and moving it to the side so he can take a better look at you. You follow his touch like a kitten, and he bites into his cheek to prevent himself from dragging you against the wall and shoving his cock into your wet pussy until you couldn’t feel anything but him. He snatches his hand back, afraid of what he would do to you should you continue chasing his touch the way you are now.

“Now, be a dear heart and make yourself come on my shoe.” Obi-Wan commands with a dominance you never thought you would be at the receiving end of, let alone from him. Sure the other Jedi tended to lean towards similarly assertive tendencies, but something about the tone with which he was aiming at you now made you clench your thighs and sigh in desperation.

“I- I don’t think I can.” You respond with feigned innocence, wanting him to slowly approach the point of no return with you. You had a feeling he was capable of much more than he was showing you now, and you wanted to see how far you can go before he would lose it all together and do whatever he pleased with your willing body. However, Obi-Wan was much smarter, and even more patient, than you gave him credit for. He smiles deeply, an expression you would have credited to a Sith than a Jedi, and leans down until you can practically taste his breath on your tongue.

“Perhaps you would be more willing to try if I offered you an incentive? Make yourself come on my shoe before I finish my drink,” he makes a show of swirling his drink around until he was sure you were giving him your undivided attention, “and you can use either of my hands for your own pleasure. I will, of course, happily oblige should you need the necessary…motions.” His eyes glisten dangerously, and had you not seen his kindness firsthand, you would have thought him capable of the most vicious mind tricks, ones that led you into this very moment purposely. You eyes the drink for a moment before gazing into his eyes, not bothering to hide your nervousness as you swallow the lump in your throat and reach for his hand. He doesn’t move a muscle, taking in the way you caress his knuckles slowly with one finger before enveloping his whole hand with your own. Neither of you is sure whose skin is running hot, but you don’t dwell too long on it, certainly not when he was letting you touch him so closely without disagreement. You pass your fingers gently over the veins adorning the top of his hand, and if you weren’t being asked to make a decision quickly, you would have asked him if it was possible to worship both of his hands to further prove how much you ache for him.

But that wasn’t the case, and you needed to give him an answer soon, before he thought twice of what he was doing and retraced his words.

“But you said that I can’t leave any visible markings on you!?” You mean to tease him further, long enough to prepare yourself to do whatever he wants, but your words have a somewhat opposite effect on him because a flash of regret, just a slight bit, passes through his features before the smile settles again. You expect him to come to his senses now, realize that he shouldn’t be doing this with you, but the opposite occurs, and you sink comfortably against him as he leans back and relaxes against the couch.

“The terms have changed,” the effortless manner with which he answers you makes you shift closer to him, and you grab onto his thigh when he widens his stance and moves his leg until the leather of his boot nestles perfectly in between your thighs, “and right now, I desperately wish to see you drench me with your essence.” Obi-Wan doesn’t react to your surprised expression, tilting his head to the side in amusement when you blink nervously at him as you look down and settle yourself on top of his shoe. You dig your nails into the fabric of his trousers in an attempt to have better control over your motions. The Jedi Master doesn’t move one muscle, wanting to see how willing you are to listen to him, especially now that he’s requested from you a rather embarrassing feat.

Ignoring the embarrassment quickly filling your lungs, you bite into your lower lip and look up into Obi-Wan’s eyes as you move your hips forward once. Your breath catches in your throat at the coarse sensation spreading up your spine, and you regret not taking off your panties before getting down on your knees for him. When you find nothing but sheer pleasure etched on Obi-Wan’s face, you buck your hips once more, moaning softly when you feel his foot move to rub against your clothed cunt a little more harshly. With each motion you take over his boot, the Jedi Master moves his foot along with you, all the while taking small sips from his drink to enjoy the effect he was having on you.

As your ministrations increase, you find more pleasure in the contact between your wet folds and the wet, rough patch of your lace panties as they catch against your clit each time Obi-Wan raises his foot or pushes it forward to stroke you harder. At a particular push from Obi-Wan, your body falls forward and you rest your cheek against his thigh. As soon as you hear his chuckle, you begin to fuck yourself on his shoe without a care for how you look, the need to reach your pleasure outdoing any shyness you may have held for acting like loth-cat in heat.

“Oh little one, you would truly obey any command I give you, wouldn’t you?” His chuckle should have pushed you away from him, made you realize how ridiculous you look as you use his foot to get off. But it holds the opposite effect on you, and you manage to look up through dazed eyes just in time to respond to him and push yourself down harder on his now soaking boot.

“Yes M-master.” Your response must not be what Obi-Wan expects because his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he clears his throat and takes another sip from his drink. He watches with fascination as you continue to ride his boot, briefly looking down at your shaking thighs to commit to memory the dance your body was gracing him with.

“Look at you, using my shoe to get off. You must be desperate to come if you’re acting like a cockdumb w-” He shakes his head as he talks down to you, and it’s only when you part your lips and bite into his thigh that he catches the words that were about to spill into the air and offend you. His body goes rigid, not because you seem to quicken your actions at the outburst of words he threw at you, but because he allowed himself to be careless enough to almost degrade you.

“Please, keep…keep talking,” you’re panting at this point, violently rubbing your pussy down on his foot to reach that little high he’s promised to extend should you obey his commands. When he doesn’t respond right away, you force yourself to look up at him and silently beg him to continue.

“I- I didn’t mean to-” Obi-Wan trips over his words, and you groan in irritation when you feel your orgasm begin to fade away now that he wasn’t moving his foot or talking you into coming on him.

“Stop fucking apologizing and keep talking. I don’t care what- what you say. Call me whatever you want to call me, just please…please keep talking.” You snap at him in anger, only to panic as you realize how he may react. Maker, if he chose this very moment to punish you for your words, for presuming to speak with him in such a way, you think you might actually die from the sheer sexual frustration he’s placed you under. A few silent moments pass, but you don’t stop once, widening your legs further so you can feel as much of the leather of his boot pass over your cunt as possible. You throw your head down, resting on his knee as you fuck yourself on his boot, and only when you sense him moving beneath you do you finally look up into his eyes.

“My darling girl is nothing but a whore for me, isn’t she?” His voice is raw, his tone almost as needy as you are, and you drag your lower lip in between your teeth as soon as he comes forward and whispers down at you. “You’re a whore for a Jedi Master you barely know. I have barely touched you, yet your sweet cunt is weeping for me, begging for me.” The truth overshadowing his words shouldn’t make you want him more, but you cry out his name as you wrap your mind around what he’s revealing to you. A small, more coherent voice in the back of your mind warns of the consequences of proving him right, but you brush it aside as his boot moves up and down against your clothed cunt. “That’s it, get my shoe nice and wet for me. Let me walk around with the scent of you etched on my clothes.” You move your hands up his thighs, closer to where you wish you can touch him, and Obi-Wan waits until your palms near his crotch before distracting your mind, winking once at you as he tips his drink back and swallows down the bittersweet drink.

“How do you feel, little star?” He sets the drink down on his other thigh as he rubs his mustache and beard, his chest filling with pride when he sees the effect such a simple action has on you.

“I- I want more, please.” You plead with him, letting go of his clothes to reach down and push your panties to the side. But Obi-Wan is much quicker, and you feel an invisible hold clasp onto your wrist and prevent you from moving so much as an inch. Shock replaces the shameless hunger that has overtaken your entire body, and you look down to see if he’s somehow grabbed hold of your hand without you noticing. When you see that there was clearly nothing wrapped around your skin, you shoot your attention back to him and gasp as realization washes over you.

Maker.

He was using the Force to control you.

Not even the other Jedi dared to dominate you in such a way. They often spoke of how unique and sacred their connection with the Force was. To be at the receiving end of such power, especially when it was Obi-Wan who was coaxing you into submission, made you feel special.

It was exhilarating.

“Give me what I asked for, and you will get more.” He says matter-of-factly, causing you to flinch at the sudden edge dancing in his voice. You don’t try to move your hand again, unsure of what would happen should he mistake your attempt to return your hand to his thigh as a silent request to let go of you. He must be able to read your mind somehow because he moves your hand back to his thigh for you, the corner of his mouth turning up into a grin as your body shakes with newfound energy. He doesn’t dwell too long on your reaction to having him control you through the Force, knowing that if he were to humor it for another second, he would have complete control over your body in the blink of an eye and decide to have his way with you.

“Kriff, can you at least ahh-” Your needy response snaps him out of his momentary haze, the sound of your voice turning into a rather inappropriate groan shooting straight to his cock. He can feel himself harden the longer he studies your ecstasy, and it takes every ounce of control in his body to not reach down and free his cock so he could shove it in your mouth.

“What does my needy little cockslut want? Use your words, my darling, and tell me what it is you desire.” He asks instead, hoping that you can distract him long enough to finally give him what he wanted ever since he walked into the room.

“Y-your hands.” The whispered confession makes him straighten his back, and were it not for the constant pull and push of your hips against him, Obi-Wan is sure he would have been the one begging you to touch him.

“How do you want them?” He humors you, knowing fully well that he isn’t going to retract his promise and give you his hand sooner than he intends.

“In my hair…a-around my throat, in my mouth…I don’t care Master, I just want you to touch me with your hands. Please, I’ll do anything you want.” The sinful exclamation hits Obi-Wan like a blaster, and he realizes quickly that his previous thought was far from the truth. He was sure of the extent to which you wanted him, but he never thought you were the type to be so lust-hazed and shameless to the point of outright telling him that you would do anything he asked of you just to have him touch you with his hands.

“You may regret those words, darling girl.” Obi-wan comments dangerously, and you frantically shake your head at him to prove to him that you are telling the truth.

“Oh maker, I’m so close. Please Master, touch me.” You beg one last time, praying to the maker that he has mercy on you and gives you what you need to finally reach that inevitable ecstasy. You’ve lost yourself to the sensation dragging deliciously against your wet cunt, focusing every last bit of your attention on rubbing your clit over the smooth leather of his boots repeatedly until you finally come and please him. As you drag your pussy over and over again, you vaguely feel him moving above you, and somehow manage to open your eyes just in time to see him stare you down as he brings the glass to his lips and drink down the last bit of whiskey, the few droplets adorning his lips forcing you to cry out in pain at the thought of not meeting his expectations, and in turn, missing out on feeling his hands roam over your body.

“No, no please I’m-” before you can finish whatever desperate plea threatening to make you look even more ridiculous, Obi-Wan slams the whisky glass down on the table beside him before reaching out and taking hold of your neck. You throw your head back to relish the hot, tight feeling of his palm as it squeezed your jugular tightly, only to gasp his name lewdly when his other hand twists in your hair and tugs on it until he has full control of your upper body. You part your lips in a silent scream, looking into Obi-Wan’s dilated orbs through heavy-lidded eyes as he brings your attention back to him in time to watch you fall apart at his touch. He parts his lips in kind, exhaling slowly as he commits to memory the intimacy of the moment, the quickness with which your beautiful, debauched features change as you’re on the verge of coming. The Jedi Master leans down even closer until he’s breathing the same air you are, and he tightens his hold on your neck one last bit, enough to push you over the edge and watch as you come undone for him.

“I…I’m cuh- ahhhh,” the words die in your throat as you seize up, and Obi-Wan uses this moment to his advantage, quickly moving his foot back and forth when he notices you are no longer able to move on top of him. He glances down just in time to see his boot glisten with your cum, and he swears silently at the filthy sight of your lace panties drenching further the harder he rubs his boot against you. He tilts his head to the side to lay the softest of kisses over your forehead, not bothering to stop his ministrations until he has coaxed every last ounce of pleasure from you. He had asked you to fuck yourself on his boot, and you obeyed him with enthusiasm. Although you didn’t particularly carry out his command, Obi-Wan understood the difficulty of what he asked. His “aid” had nothing to do with his need to mark your body with his touch or see evidence of your pleasure seep onto his clothes. Not at all.

At least that’s what he would tell himself long after he returns home.

His attention returns to you once more when he feels your body go limp against him. Your hands suddenly let go of his trousers and you sigh heavily as you melt into his touch. Obi-Wan feels an invisible string tug at his heart when he sees your vulnerability push through everything else threatening to distract him away from the intimacy of the moment. He’s unsure of the sudden emotions threatening to overtake him, and it’s only when he opens up to your Force signature that he finally understands the storm brewing in his chest.

You were, in every sense of the word, completely submitting to him.

And your Force signature, with its fiery and heated flares, was longing for the merest of touches from his own, somewhat controlled aura. He was shaking, partially from the trust you were offering to me, but mostly due to the yearning he felt through the Force, as if you were reaching out to him with reluctance and hope, wishing that he would offer you a similar sentiment.

His hold loosens around your neck as he becomes increasingly distracted by you, and as he tries to maneuver you around so you don’t fall to the ground, he accidentally moves his foot and causes you to flinch to life from how sensitive you probably were. A shiver courses down your spine at the touch of the leather in between your thighs, and you try to help him with your body weight, but fail miserably when it occurs to you that he’s truly rendered you motionless.

“Come here, little one.” He soothes your muscles as he drapes you over his lap, until you rest your head on his shoulder and your legs lay across his body comfortably.

“You did so well for me, so well for your Master.” Obi-Wan tilts your chin up, smiling down at the blissed out expression you grace him with before he leans down and kisses your forehead again. The hair of his beard tickles you softly, and when he begins to move away, you seek him out and slide your hands up his neck, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. He chuckles at your neediness, throwing his head back momentarily when you nuzzle into his neck and inhale deeply.

“T-thank you,” you whisper in return, all the while fisting your hands into the fabric of his beige tunic to feel grounded. It’s not possible to return to your senses so soon, but you feel as if your skin will crawl with ants if you aren’t touching him closely and relishing in the proximity he’s offering you so willingly. You stick your nose into the side of his neck as you bring yourself impossibly closer to him, wanting to commit his scent and his taste, and the rigidity of his muscular body to memory. The man has only teased you for the past week, even more so in the past hour alone, so you couldn’t pass up the chance of diving into this sensation if you could. He was here, in your arms, letting you do as you pleased with him as if you were more to each other than complete strangers, as if your link of work wasn’t accidently entangled with his for the time being.

Your eyes flutter open when your brain finally comes to again, and you’re met with a rather reddened patch of skin extending down from his cheeks to his neck. You turn away to take a better look at him, your breath hitching dramatically when you find his normally blue eyes almost as black as the night. It wasn’t as if you thought he wouldn’t be affected by your actions, but you were definitely shocked by the extent to which he was, especially when you were the one pleading for him to pull you towards that high. You blink once before you lean up and kiss his jaw, finding the thick hair adorning his handsome features more of a turn on that you cared to admit. He groans when your lips rest on his cheek, the simple gesture meant to illustrate to him the depths of your need instead sending a strike of heat straight to his cock. He hates that it makes him twitch in his pants, how soft your lips caress his skin, how heated it makes him feel when it doesn’t compare anywhere near what you just did to him.

For him.

When he’s sure you won’t mind it, Obi-Wan slips his hand over your clavicle and grabs the hair at the nape of your neck, waiting until you pull away from him before he breaks the silence.

“As promised…my hands to do with whatever you desire.” The cheeky comment breathes life into your body and you rest your head on his hand when you notice him trying to pull away. He pauses for a moment, looking across your features to commit every crease and every flushed skin to memory. Knowing that it would be unfair to hold out any longer, he takes his hand away and roams it down your body, briefly passing his palm over your nude torso as he pays every inch of you equal attention. You shiver when one of his hands wraps around your waist and squeezes you tightly, only to feel the other dig into your upper thigh until the flushed skin turned a lighter color.

Gods above. You hoped he could handle you a little harder, leave his mark for you to reminisce over long after he leaves. You’re close to asking him to do so even, but then you meet his gaze and instantly drop your focus to his reddened lips. Gone is the need to have him color your body with brushing devotion, the feeling immediately replaced with a desperation to have his lips engulf your own in a heated kiss overtaking your entire person until you can no longer hold back from asking him the necessary question.

“Master Obi-Wan, may I please kiss you?” You reluctantly inquire, never once breaking eye contact with him out of fear of missing any discomfort he may try to hide for the sake of “repaying” your hospitality. You’re about to spiral down that line of thought when Obi-Wan furrows his eyebrows curiously at you, as if you just asked him a completely random, and unnecessary question.

“Have I not given you permission before, dear heart?” His hold tightens around you when your body moves, and you beg your heart to calm down, afraid that it may betray you and fool you into thinking that he fears you removing yourself from him.

“Yes but-” You try to explain to him that you value his consent above all else, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, launching himself forward and smashing his lips against your own. Whereas the earlier kiss stole your breath away with how aggressive and demanding it was, this one makes you forget how to function altogether. You shove your hands into his auburn locks as soon as you feel the hand around your back slide up to your neck and push on your head. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was as desperate for you as you were for him, but you don’t think on that, once again afraid of what your mind might run away with if you allowed it to humor such a sentiment. Parting your lips for him, you dare to sneak your tongue into his mouth to explore him as you dreamt for so long, sighing heavily against him when you’re met with an equally excited but more dominant tongue swirling around your own. The taste of him is intoxicating, somehow sweet and bitter at the same time. You think perhaps that the latter comes from the whiskey, but you realize that he may be a combination of both naturally.

It quickly becomes unimportant to you as soon as Obi-Wan growls into the kiss. Up until now, you’ve barely heard any reaction from him except for the occasional low moan, but here he was, assaulting you with a hunger you never thought you would be at the receiving end of, and revealing to you just how much he wants you. The sounds escaping his throat make you clench your thighs together, and you try to break the kiss to ask him if he can slip his hand in between your legs but as soon as you pull away, the fingers intertwined in your hair tug harshly and force you back against his lips. You don’t try to do anything of the likes again, content with surrendering yourself to the Jedi Master you prayed to the maker would spare you a second glance. It’s only when you accidentally grace your nails against his neck that he pulls away and swears openly against your mouth, his breaths coming in harshly and quickly, as if he was trying to breathe in the air leaving your lungs and nothing else.

“Oh sweet one, your lips must have been crafted by the angels, for they are the softest creation I have had the pleasure of touching.” Obi-Wan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, returning his attention to your lips once more in an attempt to make you forget everything except him. He becomes more bold, waiting until you sigh openly into his mouth before taking your lower lip in between his teeth and biting down on it. You’re not sure what it is that makes you jump in shock, the rather aggressive behavior he was allowing himself to experience with you or the sheer desperation that must be clouding his thoughts to the point where he felt the need to claim your mouth with such ferocity. You don’t bother trying to think of anything else except how full and dominant his lips feel around your own, and only when he pushes his tongue violently into your mouth that you suddenly have the urge to suck on it. You do without a second thought, hoping that he doesn’t find the action too childish or presumptive. His opinion on the matter is revealed instantaneously when he moans lewdly against you and tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there drowning in each other, but when the need for air outgrows the desire for each other, Obi-Wan lets go and sits back against the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist to make sure that you won’t try to pull too far apart from him. He nudges your hair with his nose, taking in a deep breath to fill his senses with your sweet scent. He isn’t sure how to make sense of it, but he thinks that it compliments your Force signature well.

“You don’t need to say those words, I- I will do anything to make you feel good.” You interrupt his journey to memorizing every aspect of your presence, and it’s only when the self-deprecating claim finally registers in his mind that he leans back and frowns at you.

“You think my words are untruthful?”

“It…they’re not- I didn’t…” You’re not sure why his reaction makes you regret ever speaking your mind, but you cradle his neck as you try to explain to him why you had to tell him how you feel. Thankfully, Obi-Wan notices your struggle, and he removes his hand from your nude skin, mirroring your actions and cupping your cheek until you are forced to only look at him.

“Little one, if the past hour proved anything, it is that you are willing to offer yourself to me without anything in return.” He says strictly, the tone of his voice, although edgy, manages to soothe you into satisfaction. The contentment washing over you isn’t out of pride, as if you wanted to hear those specific words uttered from him, but more of a reflection of your insecurities when met with someone as kind and beautiful as him.

“I need not lie to get what I crave from you.” Obi-Wan continues, the thin cerulean line visible behind his dilated pupils shifting you back into a trance where he is the sole ruler of the universe.

“So I assure you, whatever falls from my lips journeys straight from my heart.” The conviction with which he delivers the soulfull sentiment sends you into a silent frenzy, and you try to thank him for putting your mind at ease, for understanding the battle currently storming across your mind, but all that comes out is his name, barely louder than a whisper, breathed enough only for him to hear, as if the universe would fall apart if anyone else heard you.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Besides, the acquaintance of your beauty, and honor, will never fail to amaze me. I- I find it difficult to speak less of the effect you have on me, sweet one.” He passes his thumb over your lower lip, utterly mesmerized by the tenderness and compliance returning his affections. The cloud misting over him lifts when Obi-Wan notices a hunt of giddy unrest fills his senses. He knows it’s not him, because he’s never felt this calm and wanting before, so he’s instantly alert because the prospect of being the reason behind the sudden spike of panic in your Force signature brings discomfort to the forefront of his mind.

“I- I need you. Now, please. Whatever you’re willing to give me, I- I just want you to touch me.” Your voice is shaking, a manifestation of whatever your mind and body were currently experiencing, and as much as the Jedi Master hates to admit it, it makes him feel better that your agitation was born out of the sheer need you reserve for him and not because he’s done something to upset you.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He wonders as softly as he can, wanting to bring your nerves back down so you could tell him exactly what you want from him.

“Anywhere…e-everywhere.” Your breathing is somewhat less erratic than a moment ago, and Obi-Wan’s chest fills with pride and possession at the thought of being the sole reason behind your nearly-tangible arousal.

“Hmm, as tempting as that sounds,” he makes a show of drawing his eyes across your body slowly, licking his lips and humming in approval when he notices how hard your nipples are. He continues his journey down your form, already knowing where he most wants to touch you, but he decides to toy with you a little bit longer, wanting to drag this out as much as possible so your pleasure reaches a new height when he finally slips his fingers in between your thighs.

“Obi-Wa..ahhh-” you whine his name, only to throw your head back when you feel his fingers come to rest against your clothed, heated core. He has barely touched you, the palm of his hand only managing to contain the damp, hot sensation pulsating across your slit, but you can’t find it in yourself to say anything, let alone breathe properly, out of fear of splitting your attention with the feeling of his capable, strong hand as it held you tightly.

“I think I will start with this sweet little cunt that has been weeping for my attention.” Obi-Wan coos against your skin, licking the shell of your ear as he tests the waters and gently rubs the damp patch of the lace panties shielding you from him. Your thighs fall wide open almost immediately, causing him to move down the sofa so he can accommodate you better. He spread his own legs to ensure that you won’t slide off of him, unable to hold back the moan that rumbles through his chest when he looks down and sees just how soaked you are.

“Oh darling darling girl, you are positively drenched for me. Is this all for me? Are you this wet for a man you barely know?” He questions lewdly, his voice a mixture of unabashed hunger and barely-contained excitement. You shut your eyes to relish the sensations his careful, unhurried ministrations are sending up your spine, only to flutter them open when he taps twice against your engorged clit in warning. You barely manage to open your eyes, and when you turn to look at him, you shudder at the absolutely maddening, lust-filled gaze he throws at you. It’s only when he draws lazy circles over the flimsy fabric that you remember he’s asked you a question, and you nearly shake your head to try and recall what it was he wanted to know.

“Yes- oh maker, yes. It’s for you…it’s all f-for you.”

Your response must please Obi-Wan because he clenches his jaw tightly and forgoes the plan he originally held for you. Without a warning, he lunges forward and swallows your moans as he slips his fingers beneath your panties, coating his hand with your wetness right before pushing two, thick digits into your cunt. You arch your back as soon as you feel his expert fingers slide deeper into your aching pussy, your own hands shooting to his robes in an attempt to grow closer to him. You expected him to set an unforgiving pace, make you cry out from the possessive nature of his fingers, until your body recognized the marks of his touch and waited for them again. But he doesn’t, and a small part of you wishes he was as cruel as you thought him capable of being.

“H-how are you this fucking tight? Stars, the things I could do to your filthy body.” He breaks your train of thought, breathing the words harshly against your lips while sliding his fingers inside you until your walls flutter around the length of his calloused digits. He doesn’t move then, wanting to simply feel the heat of your cunt. When he does finally move, it’s as if a thousand stars exploded across your body, all due to the expert curl of his fingers and the delicious way the ridges along the palm of his hand slide against your clit. You part your lips to let out a scream, but only silence follows as the thickness filling you passes perfectly against your tight walls, deep enough to tease that spongy, sensitive place that makes you cry in ecstasy. Obi-Wan grins at you, leaning over and kissing the corner of your mouth until the only sensation you are experiencing is him.

“If I asked you to get on your hands and knees for me…right this moment, would you listen to me dear one?” He practically growls the question, the pet name falling from his lips driving you mad with need to have him only ever call you as such. You’re rather shocked by how easy it comes to him, but you don’t question it, not wanting him to withdraw such sentimental words and call you something else.

“Yes Master, I- I would. I’ll do anything you want me to do. I- oh gods…I promise.” Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, only to switch into a lewd scream when he rubs his palm against your clit while circling his fingers against your quivering walls.

“You may want to retract such valuable words.” The Jedi Master warns, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin with the serious, almost threatening tone of his voice.

“N-never.”

“You do not know what I am capable of, my darling cockslut. I could pull you apart with a mere snap of my fingers, could have you begging for mercy with the flick of my thumb…if I wanted to.” He licks across your sternum, parting with his desires for you with each new bit of flesh he marks with his tongue. Obi-Wan waits until you’re so far gone in the new sensation he’s delivering to your body before making his way across the valley of your breasts, chuckling menacingly to himself when he bites just above your aching nipple and sends you into another frenzy.

“Do y-your worst General, I can ta- ahhhh,” he cuts you off before you can finish your thought, managing to catch you off guard with his other hand as it ascends up your back and wraps around your neck while his mouth assaults your nipple. You’re not sure how he is capable of such quick, limber movements, but you find that you don’t particularly care as he grips your jugular tighter while his teeth nip and tug on your hardened peak.

“Ah ah ah,” Obi-Wan parts his lips to warn you again, but his teeth never once ease up on your nipple as he continues to speak, “I do not recall allowing such a tone from your lips.” He manages to retort before he finally shows some mercy on your flushed skin, alternating between licking the reddened flesh and sucking on your breasts to leave more harsh marks wherever he pleases.

“Master, I-” There’s not an ounce of coherence left in your mind, and you aren’t exactly certain of what it is you were about to ask him, but the moment derails quickly when Obi-Wan cuts you off, yet again, and offers you a delicious proposition.

“Deserve to be punished?” He inquires, twisting his fingers inside your wet pussy as if his goal was to turn you into a stuttering, puddled mess. He presses down on your jugular as he increases the ministrations of his other hand, his own pleasure reaching a new zenith with he feels your throat move as you gasp for air. Obi-Wan takes this moment to truly gaze upon you, and he finds himself overflowing with hunger when he roams his eyes down your body and sees the erratic movement of your chest as it rises and falls with each harsh breath you take.

“I can feel your cunt begging to come undone for me. Go on my sweet fuckdoll, and come for your Master.”

It is frowned upon, the emotions swirling through him and threatening to make him forget what he is. Who he is.

Obi-Wan is a Jedi, a Master who is on the Council of his kind. He knows better than anyone the dangers of feeling this level of possession of someone, this degree of attachment solely centered around an individual’s pleasure. He knows this would only complicate things, not only for himself, but for you as well.

But as he regards you now, in the throws of passion, your lithe form giving up all control for him…to him…he simply cannot find a single care for anything expected of him, not when you were offering him such intimate salvation, a level of fulfillment and rapture unlike anything he has ever encountered before, with nothing expected of him in return.

Master Kenobi decides, then and there, that whatever transpired this night would not be amongst the growing list of regrets he’s kept hidden in his heart ever since he came to Coruscant all those years ago.

No, the universe, perhaps even the Force itself, was offering him a guide, one that would aid him in navigating whatever the future held. Who was he to deny stardust from finding its way back into the living universe once more?

Because that’s what he considered you—after everything he witnessed in the past few rotations, and the titillating, silent conversation he’s held with you long before he walked in here—a constellation of stardust seeking him out to show him the way to a happier existence, one filled with light, warmth, and authenticity.

“I- I think I’m…Obi-” He feels his heart threaten to leap out of his chest when he turns his attention back to your features and finds your eyes glistening with unshed tears. Whether they are of pain or pleasure he is unsure, but he knows that he would wipe them away with his tongue should they roll down and caress your cheeks. Something switches in his mind, and Obi-Wan decides to put you out of your misery, wanting more than anything to watch you as you experience pleasure at his hands.

“I know dearest, I know. And I want you to. Be a good girl and come for me. Baptize me with your essence.” He encourages you, curling his fingers violently inside you and pushing down on the curve of your walls in a come-hither gesture, watching with fascination as your muscles seize up before rippling above him. You moan rather loudly into the air, and Obi-Wan can’t help himself from shoving his fingers into your mouth to silence you. He wants nothing more than for everyone in this sector to know who’s pleasuring you, but the need to push his digits into your mouth to feel the wetness of your tongue outgrows the primal and possessive behavior over your existence and everyone around you.

It’s only when he vaguely hears the increasing volume of wet sounds as he continues to fuck you with his fingers that he finally looks down and sees the mess you’re making of him.

“Fuck, look at you falling apart on my fingers. You are t-the most beautiful sight I have ever beheld.” He remarks with excitement, his eyes zeroing in on your heated core as he elongates your orgasm and forces you to gush like a stream over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that you’re soaking his clothes, but he doesn’t care one bit, wanting to ensure that you have reached your high properly, sweetly. If he wants to walk around with the scent of your cum etched on his clothes, if only to feel a unique sense of joy, he doesn’t bother to make a mention of it, knowing that it would mean so much more to the two of you if he voices said desire out loud.

When the bite of your teeth over his fingers becomes slightly too painful for Obi-Wan to handle, he relaxes his hand and stops his movement altogether, not wanting to drive you into any uncomfortable oversensitivity. He doesn’t remove his fingers from your cunt, wanting to relish the way your walls quiver around him in your post-orgasmic haze. Your body shakes less violently now, but your heated core continues to flutter around him, and he doesn’t remove his eyes from your face once as he drags out his fingers a little, smiling to himself when your eyebrows contort along with your lips as feeling him softly pass over your engorged clit. He tries to remove his fingers from your mouth next, but you shift your face and follow his hand, only relaxing more into his chest when you’re sure he won’t remove them.

The sweat clings on Obi-Wan’s forehead as he watches you suck and roll your tongue around his fingers, and if he were a better man, he would have taken this as a sign to stop this interaction before it leaves an irreversible mark on his memory.

“T-thank you, Master Kenobi.”

Then he hears your voice, your soft, hoarse, content voice as it thanks him, and the Master Jedi is sure he wants nothing more than for things to get out of hand. In fact, he thinks he might cease to exist if he doesn’t, at the very least, feel your mouth on him. He schools his features as best as he can, even though he doesn’t mind you seeing him so unhinged, so needy for you. But he’s sensed your Force signature earlier, and he knows you don’t mind if he’s a little rough with you. Waiting until you turn to look at him, Obi-Wan smirks as he leans into you and kisses just below your ear. You whine at the close proximity, the sound turning into a lewd moan when he removes his fingers from your cunt completely and raises them until you can see them. You gasp when you follow the trail of wetness down his arm and notice evidence of your orgasm across his robes. There is a moment of panic that fills the silence stretching between the two of you and you turn to him quickly, your mind already racing with apologetic words you should tell him so he doesn’t leave you now.

But you don’t find an angry or disappointed look in his eyes as you expected. Instead, Obi-Wan is staring at you as if you’ve given him such a precious gift, one he’s been longing to receive for so long now. You swallow the lump in your throat as he drags his wet hand across your body and spreads your cum all over your breasts. When you still seem stuck in your mind, he pinches one nipple and rubs the pain away with his thumb until your eyes convey some sense of presence once more.

“Hmm,” he hums deeply, the sound reverberating through his chest making him sound like a predator happy with the prey he just caught, “do not think my generosity flows as enthusiastically as your cunt, little one.” His words send a new wave of heat across your body and you part your lips in an attempt to apologize again, but Obi-Wan shakes his head and removes his hands from you, leaving you cold and desperate for him. He nods down to his robes and throws one arm against the back of the sofa, making you wish his skin was not hidden from your hungry eyes.

“You made a mess of my Jedi robes, and I expect you to clean them. Thoroughly.” The command surprises you, mostly because you were sure he would leave now that you broke one of the two rules he set in place before you started. You don’t mention his prior words though, knowing that he probably didn’t forget what he asked earlier, and was merely extending his ‘limits.’

“Y-yes Master.” You whisper as you push off of him, slightly wobbling on your feet as soon as you stand in between his thighs. You turn back around and feel your face flush with heat at the grin on Obi-Wan’s face. Of course he was proud of what he’s done to you. A deep breath of courage fills your lungs as you descend to the ground and sit in between his thick, wet thighs for the second time that night. You look up at him, silently asking him if you could proceed. He raises one eyebrow at you, the barely-visible cerulean of his eyes briefly shifting down to where you marked him before returning to meet your own orbs again.

You lick your lower lip before capturing it in between your teeth, trying your best to set aside the nerves threatening to well up in your chest. He pleasured you with ease, ensuring your satisfaction was met, twice over, when he could have easily ignored you and sought out his own ecstasy. A part of you wished he could tell you exactly what he wanted you to do to him, but you got the sense that he was leaving it up to you so he wouldn’t be forcing you to do anything you didn’t want. Little did you know that Jedi Master currently eye-fucking you didn’t care what you did as long as you touched him. You take in the impressive body you somehow still had access to, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach up and place your hands on his chest, not caring for how ridiculous you probably looked as you dragged the palms of your hands down his body until you memorized every rough and soft ridge of him.

When you reach the lower part of his navel, right above where you wish you could taste him, you look back into his eyes and spread your hands as far out as possible before moving them around the painful tent in his trousers, towards his inner thighs.

“F-force help me,” Obi-Wan hisses at your teasing actions, and you notice the skin of his knuckles turn even whiter as he fists his hands in the cushions around him. You want that level of passion to leave indents on your skin, but you don’t say so just yet, unsure of whether he’d be willing to go that far with you or not. Not daring to break his gaze, you oh-so-slowly lean down and shove your nose where you think the base of his cock is, shamelessly inhaling deeply until the only thing you can smell is his deep, natural musk and the faint scent of your cum sticking to the wet fabric of his trousers.

Obi-Wan flinches at the obscene sound of your breathing, and his hands shoot to the cushions around him when you moan your pleasure against the side of his hard dick. He’s never seen such an unhinged act before, and he knows he’ll never witness one so filthy and wanton ever again. The knot in his stomach tightens further, and he tries his best to meditate on anything but the unrestrained behavior you were gracing him with, but he can’t find a single, coherent thought to latch on because you don’t stop what you’re doing and decide to pay equal attention to every inch of him.

“What- what do you think you are doing?” Anyone else hearing the tone of his question would think he was incredibly irritated but you smile at him as you rest your cheek on his thigh, wetting your lips one more time before tilting your head until your mouth rests against the side of his cock. Without missing a beat you lay the softest of kisses on his trousers and watch with fascination as the Jedi’s hands itch to shoot to your hair and pull harshly on it until you answered his question.

“Ever since you walked in here, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about scenting you. I wondered if you would smell like the woods, earthy and inviting…or if you would smell spicy like cinnamon and chamomile.” You pause between every other word, continuing your journey across his crotch and sniffing as much of his as possible. You shut your eyes to enjoy the moment, knowing that you’ll never have another Jedi so submissive and patient beneath you as you mapped his desires. You know it’s taking every ounce of control for Obi-Wan to not push you underneath him and remind you who’s in charge, and you relish the feeling of having this much of an effect on him. With each bit of new fabric you sniff, you feel his cock twitch against you, pushing you into leaving a trail of kisses where you wish you can touch him without any barrier. And although the thought is quite pathetic, you find yourself jealous of the cushions currently being fisted beneath his hands.

“And maker in heaven, you…smell…absolutely…divine.” You inhale deeply in between every word, pushing your nose as violently as possible into his clothed dick until his hips buck against you. Even when you stop, you still feel him trying to push his crotch closer to your mouth, and you don’t bother denying him, parting your lips until the heat radiating off of him fills your mouth with every bit of him he attempts to shove into you.

“F-fuck,” Obi-Wan swears desperately when he sees you stick your tongue out and drag it across the length of his cock, not stopping until his trousers hold evidence of your drool and your cum everywhere. You remember how you got into this position, and decide to take the task to a whole new level. As your eyes flutter open once more, you seek his out and wait until he shifts his focus from your mouth to your gaze before shoving his thighs farther apart. His legs spread as wide as possible and you take advantage of the shock written on his face to push him a little more. Moving your tongue around, you collect as much saliva as possible on it before spitting down on the hardness threatening to rip his trousers. Obi-wan growls, and you swear you’ve never heard a more beautiful sound in your life. Not wanting to waste any more time, you lean down and spread the new wetness across the tight fabric hiding him from you, smiling in satisfaction when you push your nose against the head of his cock and smelling the faint scent of his own pleasure seeping through the damp material. You pout when you look down and find a dry spot on his pants, and without missing a beat, you spit on your fingers and rub the trail of saliva across the base of his cock, whining your desires to him when you feel his balls against the palm of your hand.

Obi-Wan is sure he’s died and joined the Force because never in his life did he think he’d ever be wanted so desperately. He thought you’d lick him for a few moments before asking him what else he wants from you, but it seems that you took his words more to heart than he thought you would. With each pass of your tongue, the Jedi Master feels his heart drum wildly against his chest, and with each little sniff you steal as you push your nose harshly against his achingly hard cock, he prays to the maker that he doesn’t cum in his trousers and embarrass himself in front of you.

Up until this moment, it was clear how much you wanted him. You even told him so when you began to dance for him. But never in his wildest dreams did he think you capable of such disgustingly beautiful behavior. And even though he enjoyed every touch you offered him, he was slowly starting to fear what such knowledge would do to him following this night.

The thought quickly evaporates from his mind, however, when you grow more bold with your hands and knead the length of him with one hand while the other reaches down to fondle his balls through the now-irritating material of his trousers.

“No wonder you’re so confident. Your cock is so hard and thick to the touch…so hot.” He’s not sure if you’re talking to him or yourself, but he finds that it turns him on regardless because that part of him, that laid dormant for so long, was finally receiving praise for being objectively exceptional. Obi-Wan was not a vain man, far from it, but the fact that he was clearly pleasing to you made his chest fill with pride, especially since he was not the first Jedi to partake in such acts with you. He prays you continue to whisper your approval to him, not because he is doubtful of his physique, but because he needs you to never stop thinking of how perfect he is for you. “And your scent is…fuck Master, your scent is so masculine, and so fucking mouthwatering.” You lean down and fill your senses with the scent and taste of him, unable to hold back from telling him how much you crave him.

And fuck, you did crave him…painfully. But you knew better than to ask him to cross that boundary and move into uncharted, probably uncomfortable, territory with you.

“The- the mouth on you could raise w-worlds to ashes.” He finally breaks his silence, his voice hoarse from how dry his throat has become. It only makes you smile deeper at him, and you kiss along the hardened length of his cock to further prove his words, the taste of your cum now almost gone from him. You’re about to massage him through his trousers when he pushes his hand into your hair and pulls you off of him. The sting coursing through your scalp distracts you momentarily, but it is gone as soon as Obi-Wan lets go of your hair and immediately fumbles with the edge of his pants.

“What-” You ask at the sudden shift in his behavior, unsure why he was now willing to cross that line, let alone take his clothes off in front of you. You want to reach out and stop him before he reveals himself to you, but you can’t find it in yourself to do so, that overwhelmed, needy part of you—that came to life as soon as you walked into this room and saw him—telling you that this was finally your chance to show him how good you can be for him.

“Free my cock, sweet one. Now.” Obi-Wan’s breathing is erratic, and your fingers itch to aid him with his trousers when you see the intoxicating, dazed spirit that befalls him as he unfastens the top of his pants and roughly pushes them down his thighs. Your eyes widen with hunger when you look down and behold the tight, darkened undershorts leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. It’s embarrassing, the way your mouth salivates all of a sudden, and you almost choke on your breath as soon as Obi-Wan slips two of his fingers beneath the elastic of the fabric and threatens to lower them as well.

“But you-” the last, coherent bit of your brain attempts to remind the Master Jedi of his earlier conditions, but he shakes his head and removes his fingers from the edge of the undershorts. You sigh in relief, thankful that he remembered the orders he gave you before, but that sense of ease evaporates when you remove your eyes from his darkened orbs and watch as he touches himself through the wet material. You feel as if your mind is in the middle of a fiery storm, one that you had no means to escape, and the guilt from before rises again as it occurs to you that you may have accidentally forced him into such a state of arousal. You know he craves stimulation more than anything, and as much as you wished to be the one to please him, you didn’t want him to regret you at the end of the night.

Obi-Wan must sense the turmoil overtaking your body because he stops his movement altogether and leans into your space, until the two of you are breathing the same air.

“I care not for what I said before.” Gone is the crazed tone ordering you to unclothe him, and you flinch unintentionally when he grasps your cheeks in between his warm palms. He doesn’t move then, afraid that you would fear him, or think him capable of forcing you into an act you did not want to engage in with him. The latter thought is enough to force his heart to stabilize, but when he notices the way you continue to look into his eyes, and the raging tempest begging for every fiber of his being to unfold you, he understands why you shook from his touch.

It was not out of fear of himself, but fear of what you would do if he didn’t think through this.

You wanted him, to an alarming point, because if he continued to speak of his desires for you, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from giving him whatever he wants. You would ignore the earlier agreement, and lay with him, thus potentially causing him to regret his actions once the two of you passed this lust-filled haze.

With as much certainty as he can muster up, Obi-Wan speaks the next words against your lips, all the while praying to the maker that you believe the demand filling him completely, one that prayed your name until it became a sweet benediction.

“I yearn for your touch, my lady. Please.”

The sentiment is laced with an overbearing sense of ache, one you need, more than anything, to itch until it either powers over you or dissipates into a soft, flickering flame. You cease to breathe at the whispered plea, and you discover that no verbal response you can offer will ever properly convey to him the craving hunger you feel for being the one he calls upon to soothe his lust.

“In- in that case, allow me.” You don’t recognize your own voice, and Obi-Wan releases a sound that can only be described as an anticipated moan in the form of your name. You drift your hands across his thighs, purposely digging your nails into the tight material of his underpants so you can catch another unhinged response from him. He shivers at the stinging sensation, laying back against the sofa if only to keep whatever sliver of control still remained in his body. You bite the inside of your cheeks to feel grounded, and although you know he wants you to drag the article of clothing down his muscular thighs, you don’t do so yet, relishing in the heat radiating off of his form as you played with the elastic around his hips.

He thrusts into the palms of your hands unintentionally, causing you to stifle a giggle as you slip your fingers beneath the top of fabric and move them back and forth. You don’t bother looking up at him, knowing that the growing fury in his dilated pupils may distract you from the task at hand. Taking in a deep breath, you lean down again and kiss the bit of skin just above his underpants, the dust of hair covering his navel tickling your lips deliciously and making you wish you could see the rest of his body without anything to hide him from you. You know you should stop teasing him, but the part of you that has dreamt of worshiping him forces you to part your mouth and lick across the edge of his underpants. You hear Obi-Wan growl in irritation, but you pay him no mind as you pepper wet kisses everywhere you can reach.

When you’re satisfied with the state of near delirium you’ve put him under, you pinch the top of his underpants and pull them down slowly, moaning his name obscenely when his cock catches against the tight material and makes you tug on it harder until you can free him. You’ve pictured doing this more times than you can count, and in every single image engraved in your mind, you thought you would be patient and gentle, not wanting him to finish the fun too quickly. But as the thick, hard length of his dick is finally, finally, revealed to your hungry eyes, you can’t help the excitement that fills you, and you yank down his clothes aggressively until both his trousers and underpants are pooled around his ankles.

It’s everything you have imagined him to be, but not quite. He was thick, and all you can imagine is how perfect he would feel as he stretched you out, mouth or cunt. The tip of his cock is a deeper, angry shade of red and your heart drops when you notice him glistening with pre-cum. And then there was the matter of his length. Maker, he had every right to walk around with such cocksure air around him. But it didn’t seem like it would be as uncomfortable as others you’ve had the misfortune of attending to. Jedi were dangerous with the weapons hanging from their belts, but the one beneath you now was menacing and he didn’t require the lightsaber to prove such a thing. He was, in every sense of the word, the most beautiful creation you’ve ever come across.

And by the heavens, how you wished you could come across him as well.

“Oh my stars, you- if I had known your cock would be as beautiful as the rest of you, Master Obi-Wan, I would have fallen to my knees the second I laid my eyes on you.” The remark is accompanied with a spike in your Force signature, one that tested Obi-Wan’s resolve until he snapped and reached for your hair. The only warning you have is the growl reverberating from his chest as he tugs on your hair and grabs his cock with the other hand. You silently plead for him to do something, anything, with you, and the look in your eyes must be all he needs to see because without wasting another second, Obi-Wan spits down on his cock and spreads the wetness across his dick. Your body shakes at the filthiness of his actions, only to have your mind stand with attention as soon as the Jedi Master calls your name.

“Spit.” The order is music to your ears and you roll your tongue around your mouth quickly to give him what he wants. Looking back into his eyes, you make a show of spitting on the tip of his cock, where his hand continues to rub your mixed spit across the hard length of him. You had thought he would immediately push you down so he could fuck your face, but he does something more bold.

With a widening grin, Obi-Wan parts his thighs wider until you’re a hair-breadth away from his dick, and as soon as you part your lips for him, he takes the base of his cock and slams it three times across your face. He sees the second your lust-filled expression turns into one of shock, and he groans your name once before craning your neck back so he could reach the rest of your features more easily. It’s positively vulgar, the way in which he continues to slap your face with his thick cock, and he finds it rather beautiful that you are enjoying the explicit sounds he is repeatedly creating as the wetness glistening across his skin sticks to your cheeks and creates an almost invisible connection between his length and your lips.

You stick your tongue out to taste your combined spit as it smears across your lips, and Obi-Wan doesn’t waste another precious moment, instantly shoving the tip of his cock past your bruised lips until he feels your mouth engulf him completely. As much as he wants to push you down on his cock, he holds himself back and waits until he’s sure you’re ready for him. You widen your mouth and slide your hands from his thighs to the base of his length, holding him steady as you slowly take his cock down your throat. The Jedi Master must have not been prepared for your immediate response because his breath catches in his throat and he lets go of your hair altogether and fists his hands into the pillows around him. The moans escaping his throat are exceptionally filthy, and you grasp his hard length tightly in hopes of hearing more of his groans.

“Ahhhh f-fuck, that’s it dear heart. Take my cock, take it in that cockdumb mouth of yours. Let me feel the heat of your throat.” He calls out for you, and you suddenly feel distracted when you shift your attention to his hands and watch as they slowly turn white from how harshly he’s grabbing onto the pillows and the sofa. The moment is gone soon after when you feel constrict your throat around him and he unintentionally bucks his hips into you, sending his dick even deeper into your mouth. The feeling of his velvety skin as it slides across your tongue should be illegal, and you shut your eyes to focus on not gagging around him, only fluttering the open when you hear him moan your name as your drool slides down his length and makes a mess of your hands. You caress him until he twitches in your mouth, once again finding it difficult to breathe when he accidentally pushes his cock down your throat again.

When you can’t take it anymore, you regrettably remove him from your mouth, taking in a few deep breaths before leaning down and kissing the crown of his dick. You don’t look at him then, knowing you might get distracted if you were to see the look in his eyes as you kissed every inch of him. Only when his body shakes above you do you finally meet his gaze, not stopping once from mapping his length with kisses and licks until he showers you with more praises.

“Lovely girl, you look so beautiful worshiping me.” Obi-Wan reaches down and touches your cheeks lightly. You stop what your ministrations then, finding the sentiment far sweeter than you think he intends it to be. You rest your cheek across one of his thighs, all the while stroking him until his length is covered in your spit. You bite your lip when he doesn’t remove his hand, winking once at him as you bring his cock to your mouth and kiss the slit smeared with pre-cum. It’s borderline disgusting, the way your mouth shines with evidence of his pleasure and your enthusiasm, but you find the heated look in his eyes worth the humiliation.

“Want your mouth again, please.” He begs, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying teasing him, you would have obeyed him and told him to fuck your throat. But you don’t, knowing that the pleasure he would feel once he finally takes charge of you again would be indescribable. Batting your eyelashes at him, you don’t pay him any mind and continue with the kitten licks across his cock, occasionally sucking on the protruding veins until he throws his head back and whispers your name.

“Come on, don’t- don’t be a tease.” His voice is nearly broken, driving you absolutely mad with lust. Again, you ignore his pleas, and allow more of your spit to cover his length. He huffs in irritation, and you smile to yourself as you lick along the side of his cock until you reach where your hands are holding him. Without a second thought, you lay the gentlest of kisses across his balls before licking at them harshly. Obi-Wan’s back arches off of the sofa, and he sits up in an instant, unable to look anywhere else but you, with your flushed lips and your wet tongue bringing him unimaginable pleasure.

“Hmmphh, I- I won’t ask again.” The warning sends a shiver down your spine, yet you almost laugh when he stutters over his words as he attempts to convince you to take his cock into your mouth once more. You know you’re pushing your luck, but you can’t find it in yourself to care because of how absolutely turned on you are by the knowledge of having such an intense effect on him. It must be too much for Obi-Wan, however, because as soon as you rub the head of his cock with both of your thumbs, he growls your name and combs his fingers into your hair.

“Fuck, that is quite enough.” The composed tone of his voice is terrifying, and you brace yourself in preparation for whatever he has planned for you. Obi-Wan slaps your hands away from him, taking his cock in his own hand instead and pulling you away when you try to take him in your mouth. He traces your lower lip with the tip of his dick, grinning at you when he moves you away as soon as you try to feel him against your tongue. He continues to taunt you with his length, tightening the hold he has on your hair when you try to force yourself on him. You’re not sure how long this goes on for, and you hate yourself for ever thinking it was a good idea to tease him. You pout at him when his smirk widens the longer he blocks your attempts of pleasuring him. Thinking you can tempt him with your hands, you reach out to grab him, only to feel an invisible force on your wrists before they’re slammed down against your thighs.

“Tell me, tell me what you are and I may reward you with my cock again.” He smiles when he notices the lack of shock on your features, as if you were waiting for him to use the Force on you. He despises your reaction, but chooses to ignore his satisfaction over your expectation of him using his own religion against you, the need to illustrate to you how far gone he is outgrowing any sense of self-preservation.

“Obi-” You moan his name, only for the man to cut you off with a harsh tug to your hair and another slap of his cock against your parted lips.

“Fucking tell me,” he orders, one last time, praying to the maker that you put him out of his misery and give him what he wants.

“I- I’m your filthy whore…I’m just your cockslut and I- I want you to choke me. Choke me with your hand or your cock…please, I want it. It makes me wet just to think of you fucking my face. Please Master, I- omphh.” At the sound of the honorific, Obi-Wan forgets the controlled manner he wished to maintain with you, throwing all caution aside as he tilts your head back and pushes his dick into your mouth until your nose is flush against his skin. He watches as you choke on his length, never once relenting on the pressure he has on your neck until you shut your eyes and moan around him. He pulls you off and releases the hold he has on your wrists, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other plays with your hair as you jerk him off and suck on the crown of his cock.

“There we go, get me nice and wet for your throat, sweet one.” He breathes down at you, biting his cheek as you switch between sucking on him and taking him so far down your throat until he feels you swallow around him. The pressure of your mouth is a sensation he will likely not forget for a long time, and he dreads the emptiness he will surely experience when he leaves you tonight and returns to the Temple. He’s close to revealing his thoughts to you, but then you shut your eyes, and Obi-Wan suddenly feels a hint of that abyss. He lightly taps against your cheek with the palm of his hand, not hitting you, but just a gentle touch to get your attention.

“No, keep- keep those pretty eyes on me. I want you to look at me as I fuck your face, so you know not to tease me the next time..so you remember to whom you belong.” The words escape his mouth without thought, and he remembers then why he kept himself from such intimacy for most of his life.

“Darling girl, you look breathtaking with your mouth full of my cock.” Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sound of his praises, and you almost reach down to rub your clit, but remind yourself that this was never about your pleasure. So, you focus all of your energy on him, on stroking him firmly and slowly, from where your mouth is wrapped around him down to his balls. As you massage them in the palms of your hands, Obi-Wan can’t help but groan your name over and over again, finding it extremely difficult to maintain his gaze on you as you continue to show him how much you want him.

“Oh gods, you are such a good girl for me. So perfect, so obedient…so fucking wet.” He pronounces every word with a hard thrust into your mouth, and you don’t dare move away from him then, knowing that he must be close if he was beginning to lose his control and fuck your face with little to no rhythm.

“Look at you, you’re making such a mess of me. I- I…the sight of you will plague my dreams in the days to come sweetheart, but I- fuck…I do not care.” You maintain contact with his dazed orbs, finding him even more ethereal as he forgot himself in you. You breathe through your nose to the best of your abilities, laying your tongue flat beneath his cock and quickly jerking him off so he can release his seed into your mouth. You want nothing more than to taste him, roll your tongue around his cock as he comes down your throat and fills your mouth with his essence. But as you alternate between sucking him and widening your lips so he can take his pleasure from you, Obi-Wan throws his head back once and moans your name rather loudly before trying to pull you off of him. Thinking that he probably didn’t want to come down your throat, you tease him with your teeth a little and hollow your mouth around the tip of his cock, kneading the rest of him to ensure his satisfaction is not interrupted.

“Fuck…ahh fucking hells, little one. I- I need you to stop. S-stop, please…now!” The desperation of his voice snaps you out of your haze, and you let go of him instantly, already feeling guilty for whatever you did that pushed him to beg you to stop. You lay your palms over his thighs, lightly caressing his skin to calm him down and show him that you didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. Obi-Wan stares down at you for a few seconds before resting his head against the back of the sofa, and you watch him closely as he rubs his face with both of his hands and sighs heavily into the damp air of the room.

“Did…did I do something wrong?” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper, and you’re shocked when Obi-Wan shakes his head almost instantly before looking down at you again.

“Heavens no, you- you are perfect. Absolutely perfect.” His breathing is erratic, and you swallow the lump in your throat when you notice how hard he still is as he twitches lightly in front of your face.

“Then let me make you feel good, let me pleasure you until you come in my mouth. Please, Master Kenobi, I want to taste your pleasure.” You dare to reach for him again, grasping him in one palm as you massage his navel with the other. Obi-Wan doesn’t let you do much though, reaching for your hand soon after and politely asking you to stop moving.

“As much as I want to fuck this pretty mouth until you make me come,” he traces your lips with his fingers, pushing two of them past your teeth so he can feel your tongue slide against him once last time, “I will not.” Obi-Wan removes his fingers from your mouth then, and lightly pulls your other hand off of him so he can lean forward and feel the heat of your breath against his cheeks.

“P-please, I-” You attempt to ask him one last time, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, slowly reaching for your neck and wrapping his hand around your throat so he can call your attention to what he truly wants.

“If you want me to come undone at your touch, my sweet, then it will be inside that wet, tight cunt of yours.” Obi-Wan thought you would obey him in the blink of an eye, with how willing you were to do everything he asked of you thus far, but when you lose your smile and your expression turns serious, he lets go of your cheeks and takes your hands into his own instead. Neither of you say anything, and it takes him longer than necessary to realize that you were probably waiting for an explanation from him.

“Forgive me, I presumed you wanted to-” He starts to say, but you cut him off soon after, shaking your head and intertwining your fingers with his own in an attempt to let him know that you desperately wanted to lay with him.

“I do, maker knows I do. But-” He lets out a sigh of relief when he hears your affirmation, and although he knows he should let you finish your thought, he can’t help but interrupt you, wanting you to know that you were welcome to deny him this if you wanted. It would break his soul, that he is certain of, but like you, he couldn’t find it in himself to force you to do anything you didn’t truly desire.

“But what, little one? Speak your mind truthfully, please. You have nothing to fear.” His tone is completely different from a moment ago, and your chest tightens when you realize he probably thought you didn’t want him anymore. Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to tell him your concerns, one last time, while silently praying that he disregards them again.

“I don’t want you to think that you have to…this isn’t, I’d never want to force you to do anything.” You stutter through a response, unable to phrase your hopes and desires in a coherent manner for him. You thought he would either thank you for reminding him of those earlier boundaries and get dressed, or tell you that he was definitely sure of his desires to lay with you, but he surprises you, and does neither of those things. His jaws tense at your comment, and he brings you closer to him with newfound lust, making you regret your words.

“You think I am this hard and wanting because you forced me? You think my desperation to feel your cunt clench around me is nothing but a lie?” The questions are laced with lust-filled anger, causing you to flinch when he pulls your hand and forces you to grab his thick, hard cock. He doesn’t let go of your wrist, repeatedly moving it across his length until he can feel the warm palm of your hand rub him furiously. The Jedi doesn’t look elsewhere but your eyes, wanting you to understand that he was desiring the heat of your cunt out of necessity and not because you were forcing him.

“Obi-Wan,” you lean into his space until your lips mold with his own in a dizzying kiss, all the while not stopping him from continuing to lead your hand across his achingly hard cock. But he breaks the kiss soon after, and you almost complain to him, but then he continues to tell you of his need to feel you engulf him, and you realize that you would much rather listen to his unhinged devotion.

“I have not felt such desire in so long, my lady…the mere sound of my name on your lips has awakened something in me that I daresay I thought would remain dormant for many years to come.” Obi-Wan confesses against your lips, nudging your nose with his own as he breathes the same air leaving your lungs. You shiver at the term of endearment, falling into him as he lays kisses across your cheek while you lazily stroke him.

“And y-you say that my tongue is a dangerous weapon…”

“Will you let me have you, dear heart? Please, let me sink my cock into your pussy. Let me look upon you as you fall apart for me, let me- let me hear my name on your sweet lips as I make you come on my cock, as I fill you with my seed, as you beg me to mark you with my cum.” It’s almost as if those flooding words were waiting for this moment to stream so easily from his lips, and you don’t dare deny him any further, laying one last kiss on his reddened lips before moving to the floor and parting your legs for him. You arch your back as the cold tiles of the ground seeps through your skin, and you do your best to ignore the discomfort of the harsh surface as you bite your lower lip while trailing your fingers down your chest to your clothed slit.

“Please, Obi…fuck me. Make me come on your thick cock, u-until I mark you as well. I want you to walk out of here with my cum on your robes, so everyone knows who made you feel good. So you- so you can come back to me again and fuck me all night long.” You know better than to ask him for anything beyond this night, and you shamelessly push your panties to the side, spreading the wetness across your slit when you notice Obi-Wan’s unfaltering gaze zeroing in on your core. You sigh heavily as you rub your clit in slow circles before pushing in the tips of your fingers past your folds and into your aching cunt. The Jedi Master isn’t bothered to hide his lust from you, and you smile to yourself when you see him reach for his cock and palm it lazily as he descends onto the floor near you. He doesn’t come closer though, and you push your fingers deeper into your pussy in an attempt to provoke him to do something, anything, besides staring at you as you touch yourself. He’s clearly having a difficult time breathing normally, the rough, shallow breaths filling the otherwise silent air turning you on more than they should. You stop your ministrations and tilt your head to the side, silently asking him what he wants from you. He notices you staring at him and manages to look away from the slick wetting your thighs, narrowing his eyes at you as he moves forward until he’s kneeling in between your thighs.

“Is that what you want, my darling?” It’s almost as if his question is calculated, and you can’t help but notice the hope laced within the question as he reaches down and caresses the length of your leg with two of his fingers. “You want me to return in between your thighs once more, fill you with my cock until your pussy knows my touch?” His voice is captivating, like a rope of fire gently slithering around your frame and forcing you to focus on him, and him only. “Till you memorize the thickness claiming you and refuse to come unless I am fucking you?” You barely manage to nod, eyes moving towards the soft skin gliding along your legs to your knees. His fingers stop there, and you wish he can forgo whatever this teasing foreplay that’s clearly so enjoyable to him. “Tell me, tell me and I promise to make you feel good.” Obi-Wan promises one last time, and you shiver at the sensation of his hands as they massage your outer thighs just as he leans down to your body. Thinking he was going to take you now, you don’t bother responding to him, throwing your head back and blindly reaching for the beige robes still hiding his upper body from your eyes. But a quick slap to your already heated skin snaps you out of your haze, and you look up in time to watch the man descend upon you with a hunger unlike anything you’ve ever seen. He takes both of your wrists in his hands and slams them above your head, bringing his body flush against your own until the only thing you can feel is him.

“Tell. Me.”

“Yes Master, I want you to take me now…and tomorrow…and the day after.” You blurt out whatever comes to mind, and it must be satisfying for him because the mischievous smile that spreads across his features pulls you deeper into him, making you wish you were the only one worthy of his attention. You reach up and graze his lips with your own, and if Obi-Wan wasn’t hellbent on pushing the two of you past unseen pleasures, he would have quieted you with his tongue and stretched you on his cock in an instant. But he wanted more, and he knew you would appreciate the fulfillment more so if he stretched this out just a little longer.

“Keep- oh kriff, keep talking.” Obi-Wan breathes against your cheeks as he looks down in between the two of you. Against his will, he shuts his eyes to focus whatever coherent energy left within him on your heated core. His muscles are buzzing with energy, but he pays his own needs no mind as he grips your wrists tightly to prevent you from writhing beneath him. As soon as he moves aside your panties, the words on your lips gush without any coherence, and he huffs out a little chuckle as he begins to pass an invisible sensation against your engorged clit.

“I want you to- to claim me every night, again and again and again, until I can’t come without your cock. Please, fuck me Obi, make me feel good, make me see the stars in your eyes. I- ahhhhh…”

Obi-Wan knows better than to use the Force for such blasphemous devotions, but it occurs to him, in the midst of this mind-altering interaction, that he would be committing the ultimate sin if he held back from worshiping you with everything that he’s got, everything that he is. Was it not the Force that called for him to become one with all that is around him? Was it not this mystical energy that reached for him so he can experience the most heartfelt moments with an elated, undistracted mind? Was it not this spirit of the universe that guided him every second of his life, so he can feel the intensity of such valuable experiences with an ecstasy unrepressed by the noise around him? He questions himself, and finds the answers rather easily, awfully quicker than many other inquiries he met in the past decades. And with each response ringing across his mind, Obi-Wan imagines the softness of your slit beneath his fingers, as clear as day, alternating between moving the hidden energy across your clit and into your cunt. He nearly overstimulates himself from how focused he becomes into coaxing your essence out to flood his Force signature. The harder he pushes you towards that zenith of bliss, the more his cock twitches against your inner thighs, begging to be engulfed within your walls, or at the very least, for some release from the torment he was bestowing upon the two of you.

Obi-Wan sobs against your neck, the euphoria within his heart threatening to engulf him completely the longer he continues to assault your bundle of nerves. Only when you cry his name repeatedly does he open his eyes and look down to see why you’re suddenly begging him to stop.

Force help him.

Were it not for the distracting sight of his cock soaked with your cum and perfectly framed by your shaking thighs, Obi-Wan is sure he would have continued to stroke your pussy until you passed out. He loosens the hold he has on your wrists, but doesn’t dare look anywhere else, momentarily forgetting how to breathe when he sees the puddle beneath you. Without thinking much of what he’s doing, he lets go of one of your hands and brings his fingers to your inner thighs, passing over the quivering muscles lightly, only to pull away when he sees you flinch at his touch.

“Obi-Wan,” you sigh his name as you finally catch your breath, the sound of your wrecked voice snapping the Jedi’s attention to your face once more. “I need you.”

Those three words halt whatever apology forming on his lips, and you watch as he swallows thickly before nodding at you. Neither of you address what he’s just done, and even though you want nothing more than to ask him if he meant to use the Force on you in such an intimate manner, you opt to say anything. Obi-Wan moves his hand from your thighs to his cock, and you furrow your eyebrows when you see him stroking himself and spreading your cum across the length of his dick, from his balls to his tip. It’s filthy, the way he rubs himself against your wet folds to coat himself with your essence, but you don’t mind it one bit. Although you want to grab onto him as he finally, finally, slides into your heat, you don’t dare move your hands from where he left them, not wanting to give him a reason to stretch this out any longer.

You thought he would continue to look down where the two of you would soon join, but Obi-Wan returns his eyes to your features, looking straight into your own dazed pupils as he brings himself closer to you. Pushing your leg with his thigh, he brings his index finger against your slit, rubbing you tenderly until you sigh his name with a whisper. He leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth as he gently moves into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, and you arch your back against him as the head of his cock stretches you out. It’s everything you’ve imagined—the thickness of his length, the pulsating ridges along his cock, the hard and hot feeling of him as he fills you up—but somehow so much better. You lean into his mouth, breathing heavily against his skin the deeper he pushes into your pussy. You can feel him shaking above you, and you’re suddenly filled with an unbearable sense of satisfaction at the prospect of having an effect on him similar to the one he has on you.

He stops all of a sudden, and you try to wiggle closer to him, force more of his thick cock to fill you sweetly, but his hand shoots to your waist and holds you against the ground, preventing you from moving altogether.

“Ohhh ff-ffuck, you- you are heavenly, sweet one. And you are so kriffing tight.” Obi-Wan groans against your neck, finding it extremely difficult to not thrust into you harshly now that he finally had you where he wanted. He remembers how sensitive you might be, especially after what he’s pulled moments ago, and he bites your shoulder to feel grounded, the action pulling a lewd moan from your lips that almost makes him break. He licks the reddening flesh to soothe the pain, his mind reeling at the prospect of leaving such a visible mark on you.

Only when he believes he has a good grip on his urges does he push his cock deeper into your cunt, pulling his head back a little to watch your features as they contort in pleasure.

“Go on, take me deeper inside your cunt. Take me deeper so I can mark your womb with my seed.” He growls his desires, watching as your chest rises and falls with harsh breaths the more he moves into you. You barely manage to open your eyes and look at him, and were it not for the fact that you were struggling to adjust to his size, you would have told him how beautiful he looked, with his focused eyebrows and his bruised lips and the sweat forming against his forehead that made his hair stick to his skin and fall on his eyes.

Maker in heaven, he was ecstasy itself.

“Obi- you…you’re so thick. I- I need to…” Your words make him swear beneath his breath, and whatever coherence left in your mind jots that little detail down for later. It shouldn’t surprise you that he loves being praised, especially when the compliment addressed his impressive size, and you try to relax for him, wanting to show him how good you can be for him in return.

“Be a good girl and take the rest of me in that pretty little pussy. You have done beautifully for me, my lady…you can take more. I know you can.” He coos against your damp skin, leaving kisses across your forehead and cheeks before he silences your moans with his lips.

“Obi, oh-” you gasp into the kiss, and Obi-Wan sneaks his tongue into your mouth instantly, the action sending you into a frenzy and making you reach for his hair. He nearly lets go of your hips to force your hand above your head again, but he doesn’t drag your touch away, knowing that it would be better for you to become distracted so you can let loose a bit. Your fingers get lost in his soft locks, and he deepens the kiss when you tug on his hair and scratch the nape of his neck with your nails. The harder you pull on his hair, the louder his moans become, and Obi-Wan finds that he rather enjoys it when you are as rough with him as he is with you. He breaks the kiss for a moment, the need to tell you how exquisite you feel around him outgrowing everything else.

“I can almost feel the beat of your heart, little angel. Can feel it beating as your cunt clenches around me.” He smirks down at you, finding the lost gaze in your eyes so intimate to the point where he leans down and kisses each of them, if only to try and feel whatever it is your aura was conveying to him. He’s been trying his best to focus on anything but your fluttering walls as they welcome more of him inside you, but the second he takes your lips against his own once more, he can’t help but move all of his attention to your cunt. “Be a good girl and t-take the rest of me. Your pussy is gushing for me sweetheart, it’s recognizing my touch and I am yet to give you all of me.” Under normal circumstances, the Jedi Master would blush at the shameless desires leaving his tongue, but he finds that he doesn’t care at the moment, not when your cunt felt like a tight, wet glove as it pulled more of him inside. He never thought this act could be so mind-bendingly sublime, but as he feels the fluttering corners of your heated core plead for him to deepen the connection, Obi-Wan is sure he will never, ever, get enough of you. He brings himself a little closer to you, until your legs give out and wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him as flush to you as possible.

“Please, Obi-Wan…just- do it now. Take me now, and don’t be gentle.” You beg, one last time, your words washing over him like a sweet benediction. It is as if your request goes right through him, clutching his heart tightly until he does nothing except obey you.

“A-are you sure?” Even though he already knows your answer, he asks again, if only to ensure that you were as undeniably gone in him as he was in you. His voice is shaking, nearly as distracted as his breath, and you reach out to hover your lips over his own, to breathe in his hidden desires until they intermingle with your own.

“Please…fuck me.”

The sentiment clouds over the two of you like a lust-filled tempest, one that has been waiting for the right moment to unleash its brazen fires over your coalesced, wanton forms.

“With pleasure,” Master Kenobi growls in response, no longer caring for making this last as he thrusts his cock into your heat, until he hits a deep corner within your walls that forces stars across your eyesight.

“Gaahh-” you throw your head back and cry out as soon as you feel his fat, hard dick fill you to the brim. He nuzzles into your cheeks, breathing heavily against your skin until you can only hear the air parting from his mouth. He moves his palm from around your wrist to your hand, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing them tightly as he expertly ground the base of his cock against your core.

“Ahhhh s-sweet one,” it’s his turn to sob in ecstasy when he feels your pussy tighten around him the harder he pushes into you. Whatever control left in his body evaporates, and he drags his length out of your clenching walls before driving back into you again, sending another scream of pleasure from your mouth against his cheek.

“O-Obi, you feel so good.” You barely manage to say as he sets a rough pace, pushing and pulling his cock deep within your cunt until the only sensation you could focus on was the delicious drag of the protruding veins along his dick against your sensitive cunt.

“As do you, oh fuck…as do you, my darling girl.” Obi-Wan confesses, finally managing to push himself up far enough to look down at you. He finds your eyes instantly, the fire simmering behind them surely mirrored in his own. He can’t help himself, moaning your name like a prayer when you tug on his hair and bring him back to you again. You want to feel as much of his body against you as possible, the sentiment completely understandable to the Jedi Master since his own Force signature screamed to dance and blend with your own. He feels his mind give away to overstimulation again, and he fears that the spirit within him may get too accustomed to having your aura call and lure him in with its passionate and raging arousal.

His pace falters briefly, and Obi-Wan realizes it is possibly because he’s beginning to give himself completely over to your presence. In an attempt to distract himself, and against his better judgment, he breaks the kiss and pulls back completely, letting go of you and forcing you to remove your fingers from his hair. You try to reach out for him to bring him back to you but Obi-Wan nods at your hands until they are slammed above your head yet again. You gasp at the sudden action, knowing that you will never quite get used to the feeling of having him restrain you with the energy of the universe. Slipping two of his fingers beneath the fabric of your panties, Obi-Wan tugs on it harshly until it rips from your body, the violent behavior sending a fresh wave of arousal across your body and making you clench tightly around him. He sighs and shuts his eyes briefly, wanting to commit this moment to memory. When he thinks he has a grip on himself, he opens his eyes and looks straight into yours as he brings the torn fabric of your panties to his nose, breathing in deeply until your scent fills his senses before shoving it into the pocket of his robes. You move your hips in tandem with his own, biting painfully into your lower lip when you feel his hands grab your hips tightly and pull you back against his cock until you feel bolts of lightning trail up your spine.

“Look down, look down and see where we are one.” Obi-Wan demands, picking up the pace when you moan his name as you obey him and look down to where you are joined. The sight of his hard cock as it disappears into your cunt almost throws you over the edge, and you don’t dare shift your attention elsewhere, wanting to relish in the feeling of being stretched over his dick over and over again the harder he drives into you. “Oh maker in heavens, you are positively sinful.” You hear him swear as he continues his assault on your core, the sound of his skin slapping against yours suddenly making you shy. While a part of you hopes that the guard waiting outside of your door left, you pray that he was still there, wanting someone to know how good Obi-Wan was fucking you, and how obedient you were for him.

“Please,” you can’t bring yourself to say anything else, your throat hoarse from overuse and the repeated sobs you let out the more unwavering his brutal thrusts became.

“Use your words, my sweet. Tell me what you desire.” Unlike you, Obi-Wan can still form proper sentences, something that makes you quite jealous considering the mess he is making of you. You clench and unclench your fists, thankful that the hold he applied on your wrists was giving you all the necessary pressure you needed to bring your body against as he slid his fat cock against the quivering walls of your pussy.

“Your…hands. I want your hands to- to…” He distracts you with a dangerous grin, settling himself deep inside you without moving a muscle, until you could feel him twitch against that spongy, innermost corner of your cunt. Obi-Wan grinds against you, sending you into a frenzy when you feel your clit throb with need the more he teases you, the coarse hair at the base of his cock making it more difficult to not scream for him to just use you.

“Tell me.” He warns, lifting you up until your thighs rest on top of his own. Your lower back erupts with goosebumps when he grabs your waist tightly and slowly moves you around in small circles, so his cock marks every inch of you he can touch.

“Here, please.” You can’t move your hands so you do your best to mime where you need to feel him still, eyes nodding down before you decide to extend your neck as far back as possible until he gets the hint. You think he’ll jump at the chance, but when he halts his movement, you realize the request might be too far for him. He lets go of you then, roaming his hands across the length of your form, not caring for how shameless his touch appears as he cups your breasts and pinches your nipples. They pebble beneath the palm of his hand, and your lungs threaten to erupt when he flicks each peak with his thumb before sliding one hand past your sternum, to the base of your neck.

“Little angel, I-” he doesn’t move again, and you think your heart might just stop then and there when you notice the tender look in his eyes. Gods, after all of this, he was still being so respectful to you.

“Oh my maker, I’m already so close Master. I just want you to keep touching me, wrap your hand around me. I want you to, I- I need you to.” You’re not sure of what you’re saying at this point. All you know is you want Obi-Wan to take full control of you, have you submit to him completely until you can no longer recognize where you ended and he began. Thinking he’ll now use this against you, you arch your back and try to move beneath him. But as Master Kenobi proved throughout the night, he was much quicker than you, and without missing a beat, he returns one of his hands to your waist to prevent you from moving without his permission again, the other instantly wrapping around your throat and applying pressure that sends you into the next galaxy.

“Filthy little whore, craving such violent needs.”

He groans as he clenches his jaw tightly and snaps his hips against you, sending your body off of the ground before it falls back against him. The force of his thrusts, combined with the tightening hold he has on your jugular and the filthy words leaving his lips, coaxes pleasure out of you that you have not experienced in decades.

“Master, I- I can feel you so deep inside me.” You tell him as you look into his eyes, needing him to feel a sliver of the pleasure he was bringing onto your body. Obi-Wan stutters for a moment, the praising comment wrapping around him like a warm coat, threatening to send him into another dangerous frenzy.

“Feel me, darling. Feel me as I mark you with my cock. Here,” before you can ask him to release you, Obi-Wan moves one of your hands to your lower stomach, pushing your palm down on your navel with the Force while he continues to drag his achingly hard cock in and out of you.

“Oh gods,” you scream as you vaguely feel his length slide against your tight walls, a sudden spike in your ecstasy letting you know that Obi-Wan was responsible for the flood of sensations now coursing through your veins. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he remove the invisible hold he has on your hand, waiting until you were only experiencing him before dragging your attention back to his eyes again.

“There we go, that’s it love. You feel that?”

“I- I’m…” You meet his eyes and feel your soul fall into the ocean of blues now vibrant and visible around his pupils. The rest of the sentence falls away, and you barely manage to breathe as Master Kenobi fills you repeatedly, ensuring that your cunt now recognizes the stretch of his hard, thick dick. You’re on the verge of coming, and you get the sense that Obi-Wan was near ecstasy as well. For a moment though, you notice that Obi-Wan isn’t quite looking into your eyes, but through you.

You want to ask him what he can see, but you choose to prioritize your rapture, chasing it with need in hopes of granting him his own as soon as he feels you come on his cock. You don’t look anywhere else though, the sight of his hair sticking to his face and nearly hiding his eyes from your gaze forcing a string of expletives to leave your tongue. The man somehow managed to look gorgeous in the throws of passion, and you make sure to remember to tell him later that you never thought you would ever see someone look so alluring and provocative yet handsome and graceful as they fucked you within an inch of your life.

Like you, Obi-Wan can almost taste the rhapsody of his body, and he yearns to fall over the edge along with you. But as he takes in your form, so beautiful and wrecked, he can’t help but reach out to your Force signature one last time, wanting to memorize its fiery nature one last time before he completely loses himself to the heat of your cunt as it flutters around him. He inhales deeply, focusing as much of his energy on you as possible, and as he allows his eyes to roam over your shaking body, he finally tunes into the bright, red aura branching away from your entwined bodies and across the dimly-lit room.

Never has Obi-Wan seen such beauty before, the dancing rays of intense red beams filling his mind’s eye with such elation that he can’t bring himself to think of anything else but how incomparable you are to everything that exists in this galaxy, almost as exceptional as the Force itself.

The last thought should scare him, but as he lets go and allows your Force signature to take over his, Obi-Wan comes to one conclusion, the idea of which makes him smile down at you as he presses impossibly deeper into your pussy.

Perhaps red is all I ever needed to touch after all.

As he accepts the reality of this silent revelation, he can no longer hold back from telling you how beautiful you are.

“Feel me, little one. Feel me as I fuck your tight cunt…feel me as I brand your body. Stars, I- I wish you could see yourself the way I do, dear heart. You are radiant…your Force signature is- never have I seen such a bright and pure energy. Oh fuck, I must have you again, I must.” It is unlike him to whisper such vulgar words out loud, but Obi-Wan wants you to know that having you once will not suffice. He hopes you understand that he may be referring to an intimacy beyond this act, but he files that need for later, when he is less terrified of the effect you have on him. He fucks you without abandon, the hold he has on your neck tightening even further when he looks down and watches as you slide your hand up his chest to his neck. You cup his cheek in your palm, willing him to look into your eyes as you give yourself to the pleasure.

“Obi-Wan, don’t stop. I- I want to come on your cock, I want to feel you come inside me…come with me. Fill me with your seed, Master.” You throw your needs into his hand, knowing that the two of you only need the other to reach pleasure so you can fall into your own. When his chest rises and falls erratically, you dig your heels into the back of his thighs as hard as your muscles will allow, wanting him to fill you with his cock until you can feel nothing but him.

“S-sweetheart, I- I can’t last much longer.” Obi-Wan’s voice breaks, and he falls over you when he feels your thumb trace his lower lip lovingly. He rests his forehead against your own as his rhythm falters, but he ensures to not loosen the grip he has on your neck, not wanting to take away any touch that aids in bringing you pleasure.

“Then come with me Obi, come for me.”

“I’m- stars…I- please, my lady, fall apart with me. Come undone on my cock, I’m right there…r-right- ahhhh,” the words die in his throat as he feels the blazing fire of your Force signature strike through him, sending him over the edge along with you so instantly that he forgets how to breathe for a moment. He grinds into you, his cock pulsating harshly against your own fluttering walls as long, hot spurts of his seed shoot deep into your womb. Obi-Wan shuts his eyes as he hovers his lips over your own, breathing in the air leaving your mouth as your body shakes violently beneath him. He can’t feel anything else except the heat of your pussy as you clenched tightly around him and milked every last drop of his cum deep into your cunt.

As his hips stutter, you reach up and mold your lips with his own in a chaste kiss, moaning against him when he unintentionally bucks a little too harshly into you and forces you to squeeze around him in your post-orgasmic haze. Obi-Wan groans in return, loosening the grip he has on your neck and moving his hand to the ground so he doesn’t crush you with the weight of his body. He explores your mouth with his tongue, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible before he pulls out of you. As you move your arms around his neck, Obi-Wan can’t help but smile against the touch of your lips, finding your need to feel as much of him as possible heartwarming. He leans into you a little but makes sure to keep his weight off of you, only wincing lightly when the gentle movement makes him grind against your mound and forces you to break the kiss.

“Little one, are you alright? Have I hurt you in any way?” His voice hovers over the skin of your forehead, smoothing away any doubts beginning to form in your mind now that the two of you were not completely distracted by the touch of the other. You hum contently, nuzzling deeper into his neck as you throw your leg over him and shift closer to his body. A shiver courses across your skin, and you fist your hands into the robes still shielding him from your eyes as soon as you feel your combined juices trickling down your thighs. You flush with heat at the prospect of going back to your home with evidence of this man’s pleasure deep inside your pussy. It’s only when he lays a kiss on your temple repeatedly that you remember the question he asked you not a moment ago.

“Only in a good way, Master Jedi.” You move your hand up his chest until you feel the skin of his neck beneath your palm, and before you can bring it elsewhere, Obi-Wan clasps your hand in his own and pulls it to his mouth. Your eyes flutter open just in time to watch him as he rests his lips right above your wrist and kisses it, gently placing the palm of your hand on his cheek before looking down to meet your eyes. There’s something rather intimate about the Master Jedi allowing you to touch his beard, the gesture oddly more personal than anything else you’ve done thus far.

“No, don’t…please, call me Obi-Wan.” He furrows his eyebrows, the pout forming on his bruised lips distracting you briefly before your mind catches up with what he just said. You blink at him as the teasing grin growing on your expression sends a blush across his face. He swallows the knot in his throat, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds before returning to meet your eyes again. You think he’ll return the smile but when he stares at you with that same, slightly concerned look, you decide it best not to tease him any further. The man has done more with you than he initially wanted so he must have been reconsidering much while he remained in your arms. The least you could do was ease away whatever thoughts were beginning to storm his mind regarding you, and the compromising interaction he’s carried on with you throughout the night.

“Okay…have I hurt you anywhere Obi-Wan?” You trace invisible circles across his beard, wishing the two of you were anywhere else but here. Even though you know he didn’t spend time with you in return for the information you offered him, you still can’t help but feel that this space was overbearing, or at least, subconsciously making you think of your line of work and his ‘beliefs.’

“Yes.”

The second you hear his response, you sit up and begin to study his body, your hands going from his neck to his arms, down to his stomach and lower where you think you may have somehow left a mark.

“Maker, where have I- oh gods, I didn’t think that-” Your mind is racing with ways you could have made tonight less hurtful to him, but before the waves of anxiety overtake you completely, Obi-wan is sitting up and cupping both of your cheeks in his hands. He rests his back against the edge of the couch, not bothering to ask if it’s alright with you as he pulls you into his arms and brings you across his lap.

“Breathe, dearest. Breathe.” He sighs sweetly, resting his forehead against your own and increasing the volume of his breathing so you can mirror his actions and calm your elevated heart rate. As you inhale and exhale along with him, Obi-Wan lowers one of his hands to your chest, urging you to do the same thing so you can feel his heart through his clothes. Only then does he notice your breathing stabilize, and he dares to open his eyes and look upon you, hoping that his answer is enough to set your mind completely at ease.

“You have hurt me by giving me that which, I now know, I cannot part from.”

The words fall from his lips like the sweetest wine, one that washes over you with an ease you’ve never felt before. The desirable effect slowly flows through your mind, and Obi-Wan pulls back further to meet your gaze so you can see for yourself that he was not lying to calm you, but whispering a confession he was afraid would make this complicated.

“Obi…” You whine his name as you lean into him and mold your lips with his own. It’s a chaste kiss, one that neither of you have experienced in a long time, and the Jedi beneath you sighs deeply into the faint touch as he brings his arms around you to bring you as close to him as possible. When you break apart, you leave a trail of kisses across his face, praying to the maker that the man beneath you understands what it was you were trying to convey to him now.

“You have ruined me, love. In the best way possible.” He says as he drags his hands across your neck and tugs you into his chest, until the only thing filling his senses is your Force signature singing to him, for him. It has been past the hour he’s originally offered when the two of you agreed to whatever this is, but neither of you dare to move or break the moment, afraid the other suddenly remembers propriety and ends this.

Obi-Wan takes advantage of having you in his arms without anything to distract him, rubbing his hands up and down your back until your body sags against him. He dares to rest his cheek against the top of your head, the action making you fist your hands into his robes even tighter, as if you were afraid he was going to leave you now. He has to report back to the Council, perhaps even run over some plans with Anakin, but he can’t find it in himself to move just yet, wanting to relish every moment he gets to be in your presence. When he shifts to accommodate you better, you wince and push off of him, eyes attending to the wet fabric of his pants and shirt.

“Your clothes-” you frown when you realize you made a much bigger mess of him than you initially thought, but Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes hold of your chin, bringing your attention back on him as he smiles at you.

“Should not be a concern to you,” he finishes your thought, his fingers combing your hair away from your face so he can take a better look at you. Under normal circumstances, you’d laugh at the change in sentiment or perhaps joke about his lack of concern for his attire when he made a great deal of it a while ago. But you got the feeling that it wouldn’t be right if you were to treat him like any other customer. As far as you were concerned, he stopped being one a little over an hour ago.

“I have never met another like you.” Obi-Wan says as he trails his fingers down your arms and brings both of your hands to his lips, kissing each palm as gently as possible before placing your hands on his chest again. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he enjoyed it when you rested your hands on chest, and the thought of knowing that he didn’t mind you feeling his heart as he remained in your presence sends a new shiver down your spine.

Maker, you hoped you weren’t reading into this.

The prospect of feeling more for him than he was for you halts whatever train of thoughts swirling in your mind, and you decide to derail whatever conversation he’s trying to start instead of building on the intimacy of the space.

“Flattery will not gain you another hour, dear heart.” You throw his words back at him, hoping that he understands why you are so reluctant to reveal your heart’s desires to him the way he was so easily confessing his own to you.

“I need only look at your beautiful eyes to feel satisfied for the rest of my days.” He pushes yet again, and your heart skips a beat when you feel his thumb slowly trace the top of your lips before cupping your neck and forcing your eyes to stare into his own. Gone is the cocksure smile he was gracing you with a while ago, replaced with stern yet gentle furrowed eyebrows as he continued to memorize every inch of you.

“You- you really do have a way with words.” You chuckle nervously when you notice the needy expression remain on his handsome features, and before either of you know what you’re doing, you’re closing the gap in between the two of you once more. Obi-Wan wants to taste your lips again, but he knows that should he go down that path now, neither of you will be leaving this room any time soon. Instead, he lays the most gentle of touches atop each of your eyes, until your Force signature becomes nothing more than a dancing flame around his own, subdued aura.

Whatever exploration both of you wished to carry out before things escalated suddenly unfolds now, with Obi-Wan tracing faded scars and tattoos littered across your body while you caressed any bit of skin visible to your eyes. He leaned away from you when you got to certain parts of his neck and you almost lost it at the fact that the Jedi Master beneath you was ticklish. It’s only when you meet his cerulean orbs again that you remember something you should have told him before you grew heated and out-of-control.

“I know this isn’t exactly romantic but…well, I just wanted you to know that I am clean, and I haven’t, you know…I never sleep with anyone without precautions.” Had you not been of sound-mind, you could have sworn you said something offensive or inappropriate because the look he returns is one of anger and guilt, and you retract your hands from him instantly, not wanting to worsen whatever feelings currently brewing inside him. But Obi-Wan doesn’t let you back away from him completely, reaching out for both of your wrists and bringing you back against his chest rougher than you anticipated. You fall against him but never break your gaze, afraid that you might miss anything if you were to look away from him.

“My lady, I- forgive me. Please, forgive me. I was so lost in you I never-” It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to frantically part with apologetic words, and you feel guilt eat away at your heart when you see the anxiety welling up in his own threaten to send him into unnecessary panic. He’s tripping over his words, his hands clasping your own tightly, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him. You shake your head at him, but the Jedi throws his head down and whispers harsh words to himself. You can’t help but feel for him, and you mentally slap yourself for not wording the comment better so he doesn’t misunderstand you. When he continues to berate himself, you shake his hands away from you and frame his bearded jaws beneath your fingers, forcing him to look at you once more so he can see that you weren’t lying when you told him everything was alright. His face is flushed, and you hate that it’s not because of your compromising position but due his overthinking mind.

“Relax Obi, I wasn’t saying that to make you feel bad. I just wanted to tell you because I- I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wasn’t sure I am clean. I would never do that to anyone, but you…you’re special, and I wouldn’t dream of taking such a chance. That’s all I wanted to tell you, that I’m clean I mean. Nothing more, I promise.” You look into each eye back and forth, needing to be certain that he fully understood there were no implications behind your comment. But more so, you wanted him to know that he was not like the others, but something more. At least you hoped he could become something more.

Silence follows your calming assurances, and you find yourself able to melt into him again when his shoulders visibly relax and you feel his features contort into a less anxious expression. He nods twice at you before slowly bringing his hands back around your waist again. He squeezes you, silently urging you to wrap your arms around him so he doesn’t think he’s forcing you to be near him. You shut your eyes as you rest your entire body against his chest, the soft material of his Jedi robes a soothing presence against your heated skin.

“So am I, but you probably know that already.” He breathes into the silent air a while later, making you smile against him before continuing to tug and scratch the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I am no Jedi…How would I know that?” You hope the joke makes him less likely to tense beneath you throughout the rest of the night but it holds the opposite effect on him. His hands stop moving again and you pull away far enough to take a good look at his face. You find him blushing a deep shade of red like before, except this time, there is a shadow of a less-than-sure smile threatening to break across his otherwise serene expression.

“Well, as you now understand, it- it does not come easily to me to share this part of myself with anyone.” Obi-Wan parts with the revelation as if it isn’t the most personal truth he will ever confess about himself. You know it shouldn’t be shocking that the man in front of you now doesn’t sleep with just about anyone, but it’s still a surprise, especially since he looked the way he did.

“You- you mean you…”

“It has been long since I have lain with another.” Obi-Wan admits rather proudly, and you bite into your lower lip when you feel his fingers caress the side of your jaw. Unlike the beginning of the night, when you were quite uncomfortable with the exceptionally profound effect the man had on you, you lean into that restless feeling now, knowing that you can trust him with more than your body.

“Oh Obi-Wan,” you lean into the touch, tilting your head to the side to kiss his thumb as it passes over your lower lip.

“It seems you and I parted with important parts of ourselves tonight.” The sincerity behind your words touches Obi-Wan’s heart more intimately than he wants to admit, and he brings you closer into him, if only to try and touch the heated fire threatening to overtake his Force signature.

“Indeed we have.” He accepts the statement with more ease than he thought possible for someone such as himself, the idea of sharing similar moments with you in the future not making him apprehensive.

“And do you…regret any of it?” You inquire, no longer afraid of whether he’ll think you’re mad for holding such affections towards him.

“Not one moment. Do you?”

“Yes,” you respond sternly, barely managing to hold back your laughter when you notice the adorable pout suddenly aimed at you.

“I regret not taking you to one of our better rooms. You would have felt much more comfortable there.” You nod at your surroundings, giggling like a little girl when Obi-Wan pinches you playfully and laughs at your mischievousness.

“If you must know, I do not care for such things, sweet one.” He narrows his eyes at you, but chuckles along as your spiritedness flickers joy deep within his soul.

“Oh yeah, and what do you care about Master Jedi?” You smirk at him, leaning down and mapping his neck with as many kisses as he will allow you before he pushes you away from him.

“Your comfort,” Obi-wan moans, throwing his head back in pleasure when you nip and tug at the skin of his jugular, “…and p-pleasure of course.” He barely manages to finish, already feeling the sweet sensation of your lips shooting southward. Obi-Wan knows he shouldn’t allow you to leave such visible markings across his skin but he finds that he doesn’t care much about anyone seeing evidence of your approval of him, especially when it would only remind him of the time he spent with you tonight.

“Consider the job done.” You hum in approval, licking the bruising marks slowly beginning to show across his beautiful, taut skin.

“Any requests for the next time? A blue room, nicer surfaces, heavier drinks?” The suggestions are meant to be humorous, but as everything else, Obi-Wan takes them rather seriously and he slithers his hands up your arms to grasp your shoulders. He ends up pushing you away after all, but when you do finally meet his eyes, they’re more serious than an hour ago when he was inquiring after your customer.

“If you are not otherwise engaged, I would much rather accompany you to your home than remain here.” Obi-Wan means to ask if it’s possible that he leave with you rather than invite himself over to your place, and he prays to the maker that you find it in your heart to allow him to get to know you better outside of this space. He wants to ensure that whatever passes between the two of you is of your own volition and interest rather than a continuation of what is required of you when you’re in the confines of this establishment.

“And what makes you think I’ll invite you over?” You have already decided you want him to leave with you right this moment, and from the slowly widening smirk the gentleman beneath you was offering you, it seemed that he knew your answer as well.

“Well, I do believe I am yet to taste you properly, and I am sure you would prefer it if I were to part with my so-called offensive robes…both actions for your pleasure of course.” Obi-Wan is finding it extremely difficult to keep his hands from wandering across your exhilarating form, his self-control hanging by the thinnest of threads when he recognizes the buzzing energy coursing through your veins with each desire he unfolds to you.

“My pleasure, hmm?” Your voice is shaking, but you don’t break his gaze for a single moment, wanting to ensure that he truly, and desperately, wants this as much as you.

“Yes, little one, your pleasure. Whether or not the taste of you may bring me to my knees in ecstasy is entirely my business and not your own.” There is a dangerous hint to his tone, and you swallow the knot forming in your throat as his hand slowly reaches to grasp the base of your neck. He taps gently against your skin, making you wish you were already in the comfort of your bed, on your hands and knees, begging him to mark you with his breath.

“Stars above, y-you can bend me to your will just by talking to me.” You shut your eyes and surrender to the peaceful storm gradually overtaking your body and soul.

“They do not call me ‘The Negotiator’ for little, sweetheart. Now, lead the way, and I promise to fulfill all your wishes…including the ones your filthy little mind is too embarrassed to confess to me.”

Tagging people who showed interest in my other Obi-Wan fic/may be interested in this one (some aren’t working): @peachoginuk @purple-mango @zombiesnips-blog @starfirette @marierg @londonian7 @fluffyhales @witch-of-forest @namethathasnotbeentaken @heyhawtdawgs @bluboop @stevenslove @captaincarmel416 @minstens @siidereeus @melifair @midgardianslut @cassrage @tairbutstronger @madnessinwrighting @nicole-lightfoot @storm-breaker7 @pianomad @burningcoffeetimetravel @projectdaydreamer @tropodyn @kenobiquinzel @whydoyouwanna-know @rebloggingfanfictioninthechaos @hellmouthrecs @khapikat222 @pan-dulce135 @black-noir-ink @amunet-06 @hypothetical-strumpet @bigtiddywench @writers-haven-after-dark @galacticspankbank @kagvne @septimaseverinafavfanfic @not1isa @bucket-of-fanfiction @buckmepapi @lights-on-the-ridge @starlady66 @dear-ickis @clonesmybeloved @sinisrebloggin @justmevoldemort @cassrage @icefanfic @uyuartik @feelmyroarrrr @millennial-falcon @littlelioncub43 @astrangegirlsmind @darthjupiter @im-not-great-at-making-up-names @mrsparknuts @cltex84 @fanficsilike-okaylove @poisonous-clouds @mo-i-ra @elledjarin @star-whores-a-new-hoe @justreadingthings @hansonveggieclub @lehns-herr @fnckit-fiction @wheres-the-effing-pie @skvatnavle @stupendouscowboyhairdolover @ilovehimyourhonor @accuningstargazer @metalarmsandmanbuns @buckywhorebarnes @thedaisycrownwitch @artemis-rex @crumbssss @thetimidsarcasticcat @jadesabre83 @teeth-ing @dirty-holy-things

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wonwoostoilet · 1 month

Text

doctor’s orders.

Please, don’t let it be him.

Please no…

Please!

“Good evening,” a warm voice interrupts your silent pleading with whatever force is listening. There’s strain in the usual honeyed tone, which jerks your chin upward with an invisible string. Your panicked thoughts are replaced by your emergency mode, your hands trembling with adrenaline at the pain in the man’s voice.

“What did you do now?” you hiss, assessing the patient visually before you even get close to him, watching blood drip steadily from a wound just shy of his temple.

Captain Howzer smiles up at you with mischief in his brown eyes.

“I got a little too close to the action, Doc,” he shrugs.

“How many times do I have to tell you? The blood belongs inside of your body, Captain. For Maker’s sake, can we go a single week without you risking life and limb for the nearest being?” You pull your gloves on with an angry snap.

“Well… it is my job,” he tells you, trying to sound the slightest bit remorseful and failing miserably.

“I don’t care if it’s your job — it’s going to be a little hard to do it if you’re dead,” you shake your head, starting to remove his armor to assess the rest of him.

“You’re fussing again,” Howzer’s voice drops in octave and volume, much too near your ear.

“Well, that is my job,” you mimic his accent poorly, daring to look back into his eyes as you remove his chest plate.

His full lips are twisted in the faintest smile, and he is watching your every move. You roll your eyes but you can feel yourself blush, choosing instead to focus on removing his pauldrons, gauntlets, and gloves.

“I know... I like it when you fuss over me,” he leans forward and yanks the top of his blacks off with one hand, exposing his skin down to his waist.

You turn back to face him and remind yourself with a deep breath and a mental lashing that you are a fucking professional and you will do your job without incident or…

Or…?

What were you saying?

“Well?” he prompts.

“Hm?” you raise your eyebrows, pretending you were listening.

He leans back with his palms flat on the exam table, his knees farther apart than you remember. “I asked you a question.”

“Which was?” you ask, frowning, silently cursing yourself.

“I asked what your diagnosis was,” he smirks.

“I don’t know yet,” you rub your forehead with the back of your hand. “I need to get your head cleaned up first. Do you feel pain or discomfort anywhere else?”

“No pain…” His smile is teasing. “But I still expect a thorough examination. I could be in shock.”

You give him a look. “Behave yourself, Captain.”

Howzer holds his hands up. “I’m just asking you to do your job, Doc. I wouldn’t expect any less but the closest attention to detail when you’re in charge.”

You swallow, and he won’t look away from your eyes — even as you start to gently clean the wound on his forehead and he sucks in a breath through his teeth, grabbing your wrist roughly and trying to pull your hand away.

Your stomach flips but you give him a stern look.

“Captain. When I said to behave yourself, I clearly meant you need to allow me to do my job.”

“Warn me next time,” he growls, releasing you.

“I did!” You smack his hand down. “I told you I had to clean your head…”

“Oh, that’s what you meant,” he smirks up at you as you continue removing the blood from his skin. You press harder in retaliation and he grabs both of your wrists.

“Stop being belligerent or I’ll let you fuckin’ bleed to death,” you tell him through gritted teeth.

“Which one happens first?” he asks, your wrists still bound in the shackles of his rough hands.

“What—?” you ask, scrunching up your face.

“You said you’d let me fuck and bleed to death,” he repeats, pulling you forward and tugging your hands behind his back so your face is much too close to his.

“Do you think it could be in that order?” he drops his voice down deep and low, his breath warm on your skin.

“You know damn well I did not say that,” you tell him, trying to sound sure of yourself, but your voice shakes.

“Do I?” he asks, searching your face with his dilated eyes.

“Should I check your hearing?” you ask sharply, but his gaze lands on your lips.

“What?” he jokes, and you sigh in his face.

“Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he leans back just enough to let your hips rest in the V his legs have made. “Say my name, and I’ll be good for you.”

“This is very unprofessional behavior,” you frown.

“I’m no snitch,” he whispers. “Besides, is it against protocol for you to use your patient’s name?”

“Of course not,” you sigh again. “But I’m using your title as a sign of respect, just as I would do with anyone else.”

“And I love that about you, but I wanna hear you say my name,” he grips your wrists harder, gives you a little yank, and you arch into him involuntarily.

“Captain Howzer…” you say, trying to keep your tone even and clinical.

“Close,” he smiles but shakes his head. “But no. Just say my name, and I’ll behave.”

You take a deep breath, knowing he’s absolutely full of shit without running a single test to prove it.

“Howzer…” you say in a low voice, your temple pressed against his. He hums low in his throat, and the vibration of it in his chest seems to travel wherever your body is touching his.

You let your lips brush his ear: “Can you please allow me to finish my exam now?”

“Yes ma’am,” he rumbles, letting go of your wrists and planting his hands on the edge of the table again.

His eyes are closed and he keeps very still as you clean his head wound, patching it with bacta and exploring the rest of the lines in his face, running your fingers over the deep scar on his cheek.

“Field medic work,” he smiles, leaning into your touch. “Didn’t have your finesse.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” you blurt out quietly.

His eyes slide open and they are darker than a starless night. “Hm?”

“You know,” you frown, pushing his face to the side to check his neck and shoulders with careful hands.

“What do I know?” he asks, his cheek twitching with how badly he’s trying not to smirk. “What doesn’t the field medic’s work change?”

You sigh roughly in the back of your throat as you move around the table to check his back. “Your… face.”

“Oh, because every clone has the same one?” he asks, a defensive lilt to his teasing.

“No!” you poke him in the shoulder blade, hard.

“Then what?” he twists, to try to make you look at him again, but you push him forward.

“What did you promise me?” you frown. “Be still, Howzer.”

He inhales deeply and sits up with perfectly straight posture. You run your hands down his spine, then press your fingers where you know injured organs would reveal tender spots. He doesn’t flinch, but you don’t know if that’s his training or an actual lack of pain. Nothing seems out of place, but knowing him, he’s probably hiding something.

“Get up,” you pat his shoulder.

He obeys, standing perfectly at attention.

And as you help him remove his lower armor, it’s very apparent that he’s not the only one.

You instantly blush, despite having seen countless human bodies in all different contexts… your whole body flushes with warmth which travels between your legs. You’re removing his knee pads and the feelings you’re having are so improper you feel yourself blushing harder with shame…

“Sorry Doc,” he says quietly. “Natural reaction.”

“To what?” you blurt out, looking up from your kneeling position into his face.

He smirks. “I think we both know you know the answer to that… You’re a doctor. You know how the human body functions in these situations…”

You shake your head. “I’m making sure you’re not going to die of internal injuries, Howzer. I’m not doing anything to try and…cause this.”

“Don’t have to,” he says, low and rough. “You just are.”

Your fingers are still on his thigh, just about to get him to lift his foot to let you remove his boot, when you stop and feel your jaw go slack.

“Please stand up,” he asks. You oblige him, and he sits back up on the exam table, obediently removing his boots for you without breaking eye contact once. You swallow around your dry throat, taking in the sight of him there in nothing but the bottom half of his blacks, which he’s now standing again to remove.

Howzer sits back up on the exam table in just his dark briefs, which — despite their color — are not doing much to hide the topic of your discussion.

Why do I want it in my mouth?

Your eyes are wide when you meet his gaze again, thankful beyond belief that he can’t read your mind. But he smiles softly like he can.

Why is that a thought I’m having right now, when I should be making sure he isn’t in any more pain?

You try to snap out of it, distracting yourself by looking fo contusions or abrasions, any signs of internal injuries or dislocated bones… You put your gloved hand on his thigh to inspect a discoloration there and his body reacts visibly to your touch.

“Howzer…” you whisper, “Should I stop?”

“Please don’t,” he breathes, reaching out to grip the wrist closest to his bare skin.

“I… I need you to stand up and turn around,” you tell him quietly, and he does as he’s told, letting you peruse the backs of his legs and the bottoms of his feet.

When he turns around again, he’s mere inches from your body, his muscles taut and his face hyper-focused on yours.

“I don’t see any other… problems,” you swallow, your voice barely audible. “You’re free to dress and go now.”

“But I don’t want to,” he shrugs, lifting his hands to cradle your face.

He doesn’t kiss you.

He brushes his nose against yours, touches your foreheads together, rubs his cheekbone up and down your cheek.

You can feel the rough texture of the skin on his face and let a soft sound escape your careful throat.

Howzer locks onto that sound like a heat-seeking missile, pressing his hand gently to your throat and repeating the motion he thinks you liked — his cheek pressed to yours.

You whimper lightly, just barely audible, and he loses his careful control to what he wants most.

He kisses you so hard it snaps your head back; you gasp into his mouth and he takes that as an invitation, exploring inside with his tongue. He only breaks the seal your lips have made to let you breathe, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw and down your neck, hungrily making his way down to taste as much of your skin as he can reach.

His hands move from your face and neck to unbutton your uniform coat, pushing it down off your shoulders onto the floor, sliding his long fingers under the shirt you wear beneath.

“I want this off,” he tells you, and you nod your permission, lifting your arms to let him strip you from the waist up.

He removes your bra so quickly and easily it gives you the slightest moment of hesitation and doubt, wondering how many women he’s collected inside the warmth of his body just like this. But his hands are holding your breasts and his tongue is in your mouth again, and you quickly forget your fears. His fingers travel down to the waistband of your pants, and you don’t think you’ve ever taken them off so quickly in your entire lifetime.

“Fuck,” he whispers, looking at you in nothing but your underwear. “You’re perfect.”

“Prove it,” you tease him. “You get naked first.”

He smiles at you with bright eyes, yanking his underwear down and hopping up to lie back on the exam table with his arms behind his head, all too comfortable.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” he asks, eyes closed, body stretched out for your (scientific) inspection.

You remove your gloves and run your fingertips from his broad shoulders to his hip bones, watching his dick twitch at the attention of your hands.

“I think you’re perfectly…healthy, Captain,” you tell him, your eyes landing on the glorious thickness he’s been hiding in those briefs.

Howzer props himself up on one elbow, turning just enough to ripple more muscles like a statue carved of some ancient god from another galaxy.

“Your turn,” he drawls, gesturing with his finger toward your underwear, and you shake your head.

“Oh now that’s just not fair,” he crows, climbing back down off the exam table and putting his hands on your hips, changing tactics.

“Do you want me to take them off for you?” he gives you a half-smile, his eyes blazing a path from your bare breasts to the fabric between him and his goal.

You nod slowly, pushing your hips just slightly forward as he dips his thumbs in the band around your waist.

“I need to hear you say it,” he says quietly.

“Please take them off,” you try to whisper, but it comes out like a whine. He looks into your eyes expectantly, wiggling his thumbs but not moving his hands any more than that.

“Howzer…” you groan. “Please.”

“That’s better,” he pushes your underwear to the floor and runs his hands back up your legs as you step out. “Isn’t it?”

He kisses you again, softer this time but no less hungry, pulling you back with him onto the exam table. He wraps his arms around you until you’re flush on top of him, nipping at your lips and running his hands all over your body, seeking friction by pressing his hips up into yours…

“Would you like to ride me, sweetheart?” he rasps, his erection pressed against your hip, his heart pounding in his chest against yours. “Because I’d like nothing more than to see you get on top and use me however you want.”

You know your face must look like you’re in pain, the need for him so strong it feels like your heart could stop. You move your knees apart and brace yourself, letting him help you to a more upright position, crawling back until you’re hovering right above him.

You look into his eyes as you guide him to your entrance, inhaling shakily as you feel the tip slide past your resistance, shoving your knees farther apart and dropping slowly to take him deeper. His eyes practically roll back in his head the farther down you go, groaning low in his throat when he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

The two of you stay very still for a long moment, just breathing while you both adjust. When you start to move on him, he looks up at you heavy-lidded and reaches up to grope your breasts, moaning a bit as you sink your fingernails into his shoulders trying to find a rhythm you both like. You roll your hips and grip him good as you do, filthy curses escaping his swollen lips with every thrust.

Howzer lifts his knees slightly to support you, gripping your hips tight as you ride him hard, forgetting every reason you shouldn’t be doing this as you lose yourself to the feeling of him inside of you as his hands explore your ass.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this?” he asks roughly, one hand gripping your ass, the other running up your back to grab a fistful of your hair. You shake your head, unable to form cohesive thoughts as you move on him faster, your need for him only increasing the harder you fuck him.

He sits up suddenly, spreading his legs and bending his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and staring right in your eyes as he fucks you right back.

You run your hands through his hair, rubbing the fuzz where his head is shaved and crying out as he hits the perfect spot while holding you this close.

“Since day one,” he rasps. “I’ve wanted you like this since I first met you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about taking you right here, just like this…”

He grunts as you clench around him, wetter than ever and panting his name, blissfully close to him making you cum in his lap right on your fucking exam table.

“Fuck me, Howzer,” you beg him, all sense of propriety lost in the lustful haze clouding your brain and flooding your body with heat. “Please just fuck me.”

“No, baby,” he denies you. “I want this to last.”

“But I’m so close,” you whine, pushing him down on his back and riding him harder.

He moves his hand from your hip to press his fingertips to your clit, not bothering to move them with how quickly your hips are rocking, and your head rolls loosely on your neck as your back arches. You bite your lip to keep from screaming as he drags the orgasm right out of you with his lazy fingers and his ridiculously perfect cock.

“Howzer, I can’t, I’m gonna…” you whine, and he pulls himself up again, locking eyes with you as he feels you hit your threshold, a strangled moan slipping out of you as he keeps you close while you cum.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes as you start to slow your movements to a near-stop, “Are we done already?”

“Sit up,” you tell him, climbing off of him and the table, kneeling and watching him swing his legs over the side.

“Am I already due for another exam—” he chokes on his teasing remark as you take his leaking dick into the tight wetness of your mouth, rolling your tongue underneath him and hollowing your cheeks.

“Fucking Maker,” Howzer groans, his hands instantly tangling in your hair, hips bucking toward your face. “You keep that up and I’m not going to last much longer either.”

Your only reply is to bob your head, taking him deeper toward your throat with each motion, using your hands to grip what can’t fit inside your mouth.

“Oh sweet fuck,” he growls, turning into an absolute mess as you stare up into his eyes while you suck him off. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and he’s trying so hard to let you do what you want, but you can feel him throbbing and you know he’s ready to lose it.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want me to cum, but you’d better decide fast,” he rasps, his eyes squeezing shut.

You keep him in your mouth, but pull back just enough to swirl your tongue around his already-sensitive tip. He groans and shoves his dick deeper in your mouth, yanking your head back by the hair as he loses control. He cums down your throat with a series of grunts and moans your name when he’s finally finished. You swallow every drop, content to lick him lazily until he groans and tugs on your hair to make you stop, guiding your face back up to his.

“You’re mine now, I hope you know,” he growls in your ear, his scarred cheek pressed to yours as he does.

You nod in agreement, feeling his fingers slip between your legs again as he kisses you gently at first…

But you make sure to call him “Captain” when he makes you cum the second time, with nothing but his tongue.

557 notes · View notes

wonwoostoilet · 1 month

Text

Inspiration

A/N: Alright, so I got a little inspired/horny for Echo, and then this got a little meta, but you know what, I stand by it. Have some Echo smut. As always, thank you to the outstanding @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this (and assuring me that this is not, in fact, too corny). SO HERE WE GO.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Rating: E (18+ ONLY, MINORS SKEEDADDLE) - blow job, cum eating, rough oral sex (consensual), cockwarming, PiV sex, Echo gets to be a bit demanding (it's what he deserves)

You sigh, scrubbing your hands over your face.

Why won’t the words come? You know how to do this.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard again before gently drifting to the keys, starting to punch out a sentence you hope will finally lead you in some direction.

She sighed seductively, gently tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she seductively (CHANGE THIS WORD!) sank to her knees and sighed… seductively.

Fuck. This is it. The long-awaited encounter between the main characters. And all I can think of is… garbage.

You switch to another paragraph, hoping to find your stride and circle back.

His cock sat on her tongue, a familiar weight pulsing against the muscle in her mouth.

You wrinkle your nose at that sentence before moving on.

He tasted of…

You pause.

You know what it tastes like. You’ve given a blow job before. Maker, you’re an idiot tonight.

No matter how much you wrack your brains, you are unable to describe anything in the scene to your satisfaction. Not the scenery. Not the emotions. Certainly not the sex. You gently tap your forehead against your desk, swearing under your breath.

You know how to do this. You know how to write. You know words other than ‘seductively.’ You do this for a living, for Maker’s sake.

Your fingers impatiently drum against the wood as you rest your chin on the meat of your palm, staring at the holo computer’s screen.

Come on. You know how to write this stuff.

A quiet sigh comes from your living room, and you hear your couch creak as weight shifts on its worn cushions and frame. Your head turns towards the door, straining to hear anymore from the man on the other side of it.

I’d rather be out there with him.

You glare at the chrono as it slowly counts down towards your self-imposed deadline.

But I have to complete this chapter draft by tomorrow morning so they can review it.

Your editor has been on your ass for awhile, and you’d sworn up and down that you’d have a draft of this chapter completed by the end of this week. And now here you were, about to default on a promise, but somehow feeling more guilty about the neglected guest in your living room.

He leaves tomorrow morning, and I’m in here instead of being out there with him.

The plight of dating an ARC trooper. You take what moments you can, understanding that he may have to run off to the next fight with only a rotation’s notice. Even if you had a deadline and couldn’t spare a night.

He’ll never say anything about it. But I hate it.

You tap your forehead against the desk one more time for good measure, to really hammer home the guilt in your mind before you lift your head again to stare at the screen. Your repetitive, ineffective sentences stare back, mocking you. You huff a frustrated sigh.

Fuck this.

Making a decision to allow yourself some time with him, even if it means you will get no sleep, you push back from your desk, your chair rolling away from the back of your legs as you stand. And then the idea comes to you.

For inspiration. Research purposes, really. Completely justifiable.

A sly grin slips across your face as you slink to your door, pushing it open quietly. You can’t help but erupt into an all-encompassing smile as you take in the sight before you.

Echo is stretched out on your couch in only the bottom half of his undersuit. His armor is stacked neatly by the door, his folded shirt, gloves, and socks piled neatly on top. His feet are bare, and his toes wriggle reflexively as he rolls one ankle, flexing his foot. He has one arm tucked behind his head, his other hand holding the datapad he’s reading from. His eyes trace lines of text, and you wonder what he’s reading this time.

You’d been very upfront with Echo about what your career was, and while you had been fairly certain he was going to be fine with it given his nature, you could never have anticipated the enthusiasm he’d shown when you told him. When he’d discovered you were a romance author, he’d immediately scraped enough credits together to purchase your other novels. It had taken him less than a week to finish everything you’d written, and he couldn’t stop gushing over how talented you were and how much he enjoyed the stories. He’d been a bookworm as long as you’d known him. In fact, a good amount of your first dates had featured just the two of you on the couch together, a pot of tea or a bottle of wine resting on the low table in front of you while the two of you read your individual novels, slowly drifting closer together until you were snuggled into his side.

He finally notices you standing in the doorway watching him as you reminisce, and he shifts, meeting your gaze and returning your smile. Your insides melt, and you stifle a giggle that threatens to erupt as your face grows warm.

“Hey, you,” he says softly. “Taking a break?”

“Something like that,” you reply teasingly, striding over to the couch. He sits up to make room, but you bend, holding his knees in place. His eyebrow skyrockets upwards as he gives you a questioning look.

“What’s going on?” he asks slowly, the corner of his mouth upturning as he watches your fingers begin to work at the buttons on your blouse.

You shrug coyly, letting your shirt slip from your shoulders to the floor as you slowly kneel between his spread legs. “Oh, you know. Needed some inspiration. Figured I’d come out here and do some research.”

His pupils blow wide as his eyes trail across your lace-covered breasts before the sensation of your fingernails grazing his thighs through the black fabric of his pants pulls his attention back to your eyes. You can tell he’s caught onto your game. The muscles in his legs jump underneath your fingertips, and you spot the telltale bulge beginning to become more pronounced between his legs. You smile wickedly, leaning forward to trail kisses across his bare collarbone, gently tracing your tongue along the dip near his shoulder.

Echo gasps quietly, and you grin against his skin, nipping gently at his throat before you begin working your way downwards, peppering his scarred chest with kisses. Your lips meet his abdomen, which flexes in reaction to your breath grazing him. Your tongue slips past your lips, moistening his skin as you finally make your way to his navel, nuzzling against the light dusting of hair that traces from his belly button to below his pants.

You can feel his cock pressing against your stomach now, rock hard and throbbing, and your mouth instinctively waters. You rock your body against it slightly, and even just that mere amount of friction pulls a groan from Echo. You glance upward to find him watching you with an intensity he saves for only you, and you smile, maintaining eye contact as you press your tongue to his stomach, trailing it down until it reaches the waistband of his black compression pants.

His teeth graze his lower lip as you hook your fingers under the band, and his hips shoot off the couch to allow you to remove his pants, tossing them somewhere to be dealt with later. His freed cock bounces against his stomach, and you note the droplet of precum that’s already formed at its head.

Patience. Not yet. Work up to it. Work him up.

You press more kisses to his bare hip, working your way down his leg until you playfully nip at his inner thigh, and he jumps.

“Tease,” he groans. You poke your tongue out between your teeth.

“I think you like it,” you reply.

“Not tonight,” he rasps.

“Impatient,” you counter.

“For you? Always.” One of his hands slips under your chin, cupping your jaw as his thumb traces your lower lip. You part your lips to allow him to slip his thumb into your mouth, suckling lightly. His other hand grips his cock, beginning to pump slowly. You lean forward, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, and he presses down on your tongue. You push back, swirling around the digit, and Echo curses softly.

“That what you’re going to do to me, love?”

You nod, letting him pull his thumb away. Leaning forward, you open your mouth, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you leave it out, inviting him. His eyes follow the movement, and he cups your cheek again.

“Yeah, you want this?”

You nod again. “Please.”

He presses the tip of his cock to your lips, and you kiss it teasingly, the warmth familiar against your lips. You lick at it playfully, keeping your eyes locked on his. His mouth hangs slightly open, his brows furrowed as he focuses on you, holding his cock firmly to your tongue as your licks grow more languid and long until you finally run your tongue from his base to the tip, at last taking the head into your warm mouth. You both groan, his head tipping back as you refamiliarize yourself with the taste of him, suckling gently at the head of his cock before allowing it to sink deeper into your mouth, running the length of him along your tongue, tracing the vein that runs along the bottom.

Warm. Thick. Heavy.

You take him deeper, relaxing your throat until you finally manage to take him almost entirely, your nose brushing the dark curls at the base of his cock. You inhale his scent deeply before swallowing, and Echo moans loudly. Your eyes are watering, but you don’t care as you watch his head tip backwards, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the muscles in his neck become more pronounced. His pectorals tighten, and his hands ball into fists. You reach forward, taking one of his hands and embedding it in your hair.

You know he’ll be gentle, or at least gentle enough.

Echo’s head snaps back forward, and he finds your eyes again. His lips part as he pants, his eyebrows knitting together. He cradles the back of your head, not pushing but gently guiding your head as you begin to bob up and down on his cock. You watch as the control begins to slip, and you urge him on by taking him to the back of your throat, pushing against your body’s limits. You gag, and his hand flies away from your head in alarm, and his hips jerk, pulling himself out of your mouth. A string of spit trails from your lips to the glistening tip of his cock, and before he can get out the first syllables of an apology, you chase him, forcing him to the back of your throat again. You grab his hand forcefully, pressing it to the back of your head as you watch him.

You swallow and you gag again, but you hold yourself in place this time as tears fill the corners of your eyes. Echo’s entire body seems tensed, trying to maintain control as he watches you practically choke yourself on his cock.

“I-is that what you want?” he stutters out finally. “For me to ruin you?” The second sentence comes out quieter, darker, and you can see he’s hopeful the answer will be ‘yes.’

You swallow again in affirmation, and he swears louder.

“Then I’ll give you what you want,” he grits out. “Tap three times on my leg if it’s too much.” You tap three times to demonstrate, and he nods. “Good. That’s good.” With that, his other hand fists in your hair, and he begins rocking his hips into you, dragging your head all the way up and down his length forcefully, slowly accelerating as he finds his rhythm and your limits. You completely surrender to him.

Echo chases his pleasure, muttering praise under his breath as he thrusts into your mouth.

“So good for me. Taking everything I give. So eager. Willing to choke yourself on my cock. F-fuck.”

He grunts, holding you with his cock in the back of your throat. Your lips stretch around his girth, and your jaw aches deliciously.

“Swallow for me love. Y-yeah. That’s it. Good girl.”

You preen at the praise, even as you fight your gag reflex.

“There you go. Relax your throat. Again. Swallow. S-so good for me. Maker.”

The sweet ARC trooper that you’ve fallen in love with has completely been eclipsed, replaced with someone unafraid to ask for what he wants, someone who prioritizes his pleasure for once.

And you love it.

You know you’ll get yours in the end.

“So f-fuckin’ pretty. Y-your eyes. So good. F-fucking tits that I think about all the time. And that mouth... Fuck.”

His cock is twitching against your tongue as he continues to mumble filth, sweat trickling from his brow. You feel some of the roots of your hair ache in protest under his grip, but the slight pain only sends electricity shooting through your veins. You’ve got both hands pressed against his thighs for balance, and you fight the urge to slip a hand in your pants to pleasure yourself.

Focus on him. Focus on the feeling.

Give him everything he wants.

“‘M close,” he rasps. “W-where?”

He lifts you off his cock long enough for you to answer, stroking it inches from your face, his fingers growing wet with your saliva.

“Wherever… you want,” you gasp in reply.

His eyes glint for a moment, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, if this is for research, best to be thorough.” Heat shoots between your legs. Your panties are soaked, you’re certain. He taps his cock against your swollen lips, and you open again, welcoming him back inside your mouth. “Want you to taste me. Can you do that, love? Be a good girl and swallow every last drop?”

You hum eagerly, and he grunts, his hips leaping off your couch. “D-do that again,” he pleads, and you oblige. He presses your head down, working you along the entirety of his length as you frantically swirl your tongue against all of the places you know he loves. His thrusts grow shorter, and you feel his thighs tense beneath your palms.

“Look at me,” he rasps.

You oblige, meeting his gaze, and he presses himself to the back of your throat.

“I-I-I’m…” he never finishes his sentence, instead unleashing a loud moan as he empties himself into your throat. You savor the taste as he groans with every spurt of his release.

Salty. Tangy. Warm. Him.

You swallow everything before running your tongue over his softening cock one last time for good measure, ensuring you’ve cleaned every last drop from him. Echo’s head is tipped over the back of the couch again, his chest heaving as his hand absently strokes your hair. Your knees creak in protest and your legs quiver as you carefully climb into his lap, peppering his jawline with kisses as he fights to get his breathing under control. His hands come to rest on your hips before slipping up your spine, pulling you close to him. He cups your cheek before kissing you deeply, inhaling through his nose and drinking you in. You feel him quiver, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“That… was something else,” he whispers. “All that for some inspiration, huh? Is that what we’re calling him these days?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and you giggle.

“Absolutely not.”

He shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Fives,” you tease. You pause as you see something hovering in his gaze. It’s apparent it’s weighing him down slightly. “What is it?” you ask.

He pauses. “It’s silly.”

“Echo.”

“Alright. Fine.” He sighs, giving you a sheepish grin. “I was… I guess I was just worried that I wasn’t living up to those stories you’ve written.”

You giggle softly, pressing another kiss to his lips. “At the risk of sounding cheesy, I found the guy that I was writing into those stories, Echo. It was you, even if I didn’t know it yet.”

“But… but we don’t do all of those things.”

You shrug. “We could. But it’s not about all of the different sex positions and kinks I write about. It’s the fact that I found a partner that I feel safe with, one that I trust. One that prioritizes me more than himself, even though I’d be satisfied with an even trade. One that wants to learn with me about how we work best together, in all aspects of the relationship.” You kiss his forehead. “But, if you ever want to experiment with some of the other stuff I write about, I’m more than willing to give it a try.”

He grins. “Well, now that you mention it…”

—

He locked his mouth around her nipple, lavishing the sensitive bud as she arched into his touch, chasing her pleasure with renewed fervor as she neared the precipice, her moans crescendoing with her approaching climax.

Echo’s breath is warm against your ear as he whispers to you. “I really like that. Beautifully written.” His cock pulses inside of you, and you squirm, groaning in frustration despite the compliment to your writing. His fingers dig into your hips as he tuts scoldingly in your ear.

“Now, now. None of that. Not until you’ve finished your draft.”

When he’d immediately expressed interest in cockwarming, you didn’t think he’d have the patience for it, but half an hour and a few thousand words in, he’d surprised you. Even more shocking, you were a few paragraphs from being satisfied with your draft. However, concentrating was becoming progressively more difficult.

“Echo,” you whine. “Please. Just a little bit.”

He lets his chin rest on your shoulder, nibbling at your earlobe playfully. “Not. Until. You’re. Done.”

You groan, slumping back against his shoulder, but even with this slight feint, he won’t allow you to rock your hips more than a centimeter. You’re completely laid bare, your legs hanging uselessly outside of his, impaled on his cock. You’re certain there has to be a puddle under your chair. He chuckles, gently playing with one of your nipples. You fight the urge to pout.

“Come on love. You’re so close to being done. And then I’ll give you everything you want.”

You lean forward again, resting your elbows on the desktop. Your fingers find the keyboard just as his drift between your legs, gently rubbing at your clit with just the perfect amount of pressure. You gasp.

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair.”

He chuckles against the skin of your neck. “What? I thought it would inspire you to go faster.”

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @moonstrider9904 @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @sleepingsun501

231 notes · View notes

wonwoostoilet · 1 month

Text

Remembering

Echo x Fem!Reader

masterlist | read on ao3

As Echo tries to piece together memories of your relationship from before the Citadel, you show him things you used to do together and that it’s still possible to make each other feel good.

EXPLICIT | 18+ only | about 5.8k words | angst. the loss of a loved one. grieving. ptsd. smut. in the words of @thefact0rygirl: “a 3-ton monster truck, super sized, barrel of angst big enough to feed the entire GAR (but in the best way possible)”.

Keep reading

402 notes · View notes

wonwoostoilet · 1 month

Note

Omg I loooove your work sm and so happy your requests are open! Pretty please can I request a female reader with an inexperienced Echo? Maybe some voyeurism if that’s in your comfort zone asdfghjkl. 😅 maybe reader is doing something and he walks in? Up to you! Take your time if you get to my requests or even want to do it. I love your stuff 💜

All Is Quiet In The Havoc Marauder***

Echo X F!Reader

word count: 5.8k

After being friends for so long, you both never would think the night would end with you both entangled in your bed sheets.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Explicit Sexual Content, accidental voyeurism followed by consensual voyeurism. Virgin echo, Self reader masturbation, cunnilingus, oral sex both male and female, p in v sex. Swearing, praise. Not proof read.

Masterlist 🤍

authors note: thank you for the kind word 🥰

“‘Go back to the ship’. Why can’t he go back to the ship?” He’s grumbling, almost tripping over his feet as he angrily marches back to the Havoc Marauder.

Of course, someone had forgotten some kit for an upcoming mission. Recently, the lot of you had been having to travel to and fro from a discrete area which annoyingly the ship couldn’t enter. After collecting the right resources to take to the rendezvous, the ship was clogged up with a whole bunch of crates, gear, weaponry etc.

Not naming names - Wrecker - had forgotten the very last resource and Hunter had selected Echo to pick up his slack. His back had been aching from walking what seemed to be like miles and miles all whilst carrying a bunch of stuff.

He had half considered trying to comm you since you were back at the ship so you could perhaps meet him halfway. Then, he remembered that you said you weren’t feeling too well.

To him, you looked fine. Well, you always did. Your face always seems to glow, hair always healthy and never a single bag under your eyes from tiredness. He didn’t want to think you were slacking off but all this back and forth business had been happening for a few days now so he wouldn’t blame you.

With the Havoc in sight he breathed a sigh of relief and triggered the ramp with the device on his arm. He steps inside, engulfing the warmth and slightly off smell the ship had to offer but he doesn’t see you. It’s quiet, very quiet and he spots the crate at the far end of the hall which Wrecker was meant to grab.

He walks over and bends down to grab it but freezes when he hears something unusual that came from inside the bunk room. He narrows his brows as if to help him listen better and his heart picks up at the sound of faint whimpering and gasping.

Echo grows concerned quickly. Kriff, maybe you were sick after all. He debates whether or not to intrude but what kind of friend would he be if he were to let you suffer and not make sure you’re in any pain?

Your soft whining is muffled from behind the door and it got increasingly louder and he was certain he heard you curse. He knew he had to do something in that moment and so when he pressed the button on the side of the door to reveal you, he definitely saw more than he bargained for.

Your bunk is in the far right corner, slightly further away from the others. His eyes squinted in the dark and he didn’t want to turn the light on incase you may have a severe headache of some kind. What he could make out however was a small flicker of light from where you were as if your holopad was on.

He calls out your name softly, footsteps creeping towards the back of the room but he halts when he spots one of your legs dangling off your bunk. It wouldn’t have irked him initially, but the fact he could see your bare skin made him have a deep cautious feeling grow in his gut.

His feet deceive him, he knew he should go back but still he found himself moving forward until he laid eyes on the most filthy and cock-hardening sight he had seen.

Sweat glistened your body as you laid back on your bunk, entwined in the navy blue sheets. Your back was making the most magnificent arch whilst your legs spread and toes curled. He swallow the saliva in his throat, eyes trailing down towards the movement beneath the sheets that covers your sex and Echo was quick to understand what was happening. With your eyes tightly closed, you weren’t aware of the man in the room with you as your fingers strum between your legs desperately.

He’s holding his breath, too scared to make a single noise. Knowing that it’s best to just leave and never quite frankly come back, he moves backwards as silent as the grave. He’s careful, precise in every move he makes but the sounds of your sweet and secret moans makes him pause again. He’s begging his mind to keep him moving but as the sheet slides down your body, your pebbled nipples caught his creeping gaze.

Internally he curses because he knows he should not be enjoying this; enjoying seeing a colleague, a great friend in fact touching themselves in such private circumstances. But his cock deceives him. He’s aching, stretching against his codpiece and a guttural moan is waiting to burst out his chest.

Your squirming, a whimpering mess and as your legs tense and wiggle around the sheet gets lower and lower until Echo beheld the sight of you pleasuring yourself. Your fingers are working against your clit, circular motions that are sending you into a euphoric state. Your free hand clasps over your breast, pinching one of your nipples for that desperate need of release.

He’s certain he lets out a loud gasp of amazement at the sight but luckily it got drowned out by the sound of your swearing so innocently. If he could he’d tear his eyes away but the sight of your glistening pussy was certainly a sight to behold.

He wasn’t so confident in any sexual activity, not since his days in the 501st and certainly not since his incident so it had been a while since he gained any form of sexual pleasure. He just didn’t think it would have been seeing you rubbing yourself so beautifully in the back of the Marauder. Oh, and that you were his friend.

His friend. The thought makes him mentally slap himself, he knows he has to retreat now before the guilt eats him up inside for enjoying the view.

He steps back. And again. And Again. He’s almost at the door when he quickly turns but then there’s a loud clang followed by a louder gasp. He stills and looks down to see his scomp had banged against one of the metal bunk rails.

“H-hello?” Your voice called out, quiet and timid. There was not a chance he could quickly run out now as it would add further suspicions. Plus, he knew you would not hesitate to shoot him down if you had thought him to be an intruder… which he technically now was.

You're pulling the sheet that had pooled onto the floor up to your chest quickly, leaning over to catch a glimpse of whatever the noise was. At first you saw nothing but then a shadow caught your eye and your blood ran cold. Eyes widening, they travel along the floor until they stopped at some boots and your heart pounds as they trail up to see an all too familiar Kama.

You didn’t know how to feel at the moment but as you called out his name, your tone was anxious.

Echo could not physically move knowing you had caught him but you could not move either knowing that he caught you in more complicated circumstances. His breathing is shallow and he has to count as if to pace himself to finally speak to you.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Echo doesn’t face you as you stare into the back of his head and you feel the dreaded feeling that this has most certainly ruined your friendship. After all, how would you feel if you were the one to walk in on him? “I, uh,” you struggle to find the right words and do your best to ease the tension, “I didn’t think you guys would be back for hours.”

With a shaky breath he replies, “That’s what I thought too.” He gulps, sweating under his blacks. “But Wrecker forgot something so I had to come back.”

Your mouth opened partly into an ‘o’ shape and you were hardly still aware that you were still naked behind him, despite the sheet partially covering you up. All you could think and focus on was him which is probably why you didn’t feel the slight breeze over your left breast that wasn’t so much covered anymore.

“So did you hear me and you decided to come in and watch me?”

His eyes shot open and he didn’t hesitate to turn and stride back towards you with a demanding pace. “No! I would never! I thought you were sick because that is what you told us and I heard you and I had to make sure you’re alright.” He declares earnestly.

You recoil back a little at his quick stride to you, your own eyes widening as you see the total desperation of honesty on his face. Deep down you knew he would’ve never watched you whilst doing what you were doing willingly and his reaction confirmed that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse I just…” you trail off pathetically, hanging your head a little, “I shouldn’t have lied. But I was feeling exhausted and I just needed to relax. In more ways than one, obviously.” You find yourself laughing softly at your own comment. It was a little foolish despite the scenario you were in but your laugh has made Echo feel a small weight lift off his shoulders.

Laughter was always a good sign. Wasn’t it?

He didn’t mean to, but his eyes trailed from the laugh lines of your face back down to the sheet over your body. It only took a single glance when he had to hold in a startled noise as his eyes trailed over your breast he didn’t even realise was still on show. Neither did you.

“Uh, forgive me,” he sighs and looks up to the oh-so-interesting ceiling of the Marauder, “one of your… boobs… are still on show.”

You didn’t catch what he said at first due to his slight mumbling but as he suggested awkwardly at pointing to his own chest, you gasp and pull at the sheet again to cover yourself back up. “Shit, sorry.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” You're quick to respond, watching him slowly look back at you.

He’s quite frankly stumped by the question and his mind was racing for the right answer.

Would it be insulting to say that he actually did mind or would it be perverted of him to say he didn’t mind? Because he very much liked the view.

His hand clasps onto his scomp behind his back, hoping his next choice of words don’t ensnare him. “No, I don’t.” He confirmed with a short nod, finding it quite difficult to look you in the eye but your gaze was very strong, eyes showing something interesting.

Your lips part a little, a small hum escaping your lips. There’s deep contemplation in your thoughts as you gaze up at the handsome Clone in front of you. It’s silly yet also frighteningly naughty of you to slowly get aroused at the thought of Echo liking your breasts and even more so if he had possibly liked the sight of you touching yourself too.

“And did you mind seeing me, you know?” Your voice is a little quieter and Echo notices you shift a little, legs closing together as you nod down towards your thighs as a hint.

Echo grows warm and a little confused. Were you flirting with him? Maybe he had hit his head rather than his scomp on the rail because there was no chance someone like you would flirt with him. “I didn’t mean to watch you.”

“That’s not the question I asked, Echo.” You interject softly, head tilting to the side. You see him scanning your body and as you see him gulp, you take probably the most foolish risk you did by letting go of the sheet. “I’ll ask you again a little more clearly; did you mind seeing me touch myself?”

The Clone is awestruck, eyes casting straight down to your breasts that look warm to touch. His cock stiffens almost in an instant and he lets out a small hiss as it pushes unfavourably against his codpiece.

“No,” he rasps, eyelids getting a little heavy, “I didn’t mind seeing you touch yourself, mesh’la.”

Your heart is racing and you lean back on the bed a little, back against the bunk wall as you teasingly pull the remainder of the sheet away from your lower half. “In that case,” a hand slides down from your breasts, over your stomach until it stops just over your pussy, “feel free to watch me again.”

He was frozen in place but so incredibly aroused. His eyes traveled down your arm to the hand moving slowly in your lap. The tips of two fingers lightly pressed on the folds of skin atop of your lips, moving in lazy circles. No great pressure, no great need, just languid satisfaction. The slow steady way he watches you please yourself, moist fingertips gliding over moist skin, was somehow more erotic than him imagining being inbetween your legs.

Ever so slowly, his flesh hand comes down to his codpiece and idly tugs at it and it instantly catches your attention. “Take it off if it’s bothering you sweetie, I can assure you I don’t mind seeing what you have hiding.”

He’s a little nervous as you can tell by the way his fingers fidget quickly over the latch of his codpiece. But when it’s off, you suppress a moan when you see the aching bulge under his blacks.

Leaning against one of the bunks frames, he begins to palm himself slowly as he watches nothing but the motion of your hand against your sex. He looks up once however the second you let out a small moan as your fingers left massaging your folds to your little bud.

Your chest is heaving and your eyes are trained on Echo’s throbbing cock that you so wanted to uncover. “Don’t be shy to show me everything, Echo. I don’t bite.”

You see him pause for a moment and you had feared that you may have pushed him so when you’re about to apologise, he pulls down his pants partly. Despite your eyes being locked onto his cock, you miss the smirk on his face as he pulls his pants slowly to let his cock spring free. When it goes, you find yourself applying more pressure to your clit.

“Echo… wow. You’re so…”

He knows you mean nothing more than to compliment which is why he looks down to hide his bashful expression. “So are you.”

Chewing on your lower lip, you moan softly in both pleasure and somewhat awe as you watch him take his length into his grasp, pearly white cum already seeping out the tip of his coco. His gaze travels back to you, sighing gently.

As if in slow motion, your fingertips left their station on your clit and ran down between your lips only to slip within. Two fingers disappeared, bringing a long slow deep breath that set his hair on end. “That's it beautiful. Finger yourself.”

His raspy voice and order shocked you but aroused you no doubt. He picks up the pace as he pumps along his length, jaw slack and mouth agape as he watches you collect the slick of your juice on your fingers. There’s a hint of mischief on your face as you lock your gaze on his.

“Would you like a taste, Echo?” He paused his languid motions on his cock and almost froze.

“You’d allow me to come closer?”

For a second your heart skips a beat. How could he think you wouldn’t want him to come near you? “Of course. Of course I would.” You sit up a little more the moment he crosses the threshold. He kneels before you and that’s when he noticed the blush on your face.

“I need to tell you something.”

His tone sounded serious and for someone so irritatingly horny, you manage to lean back up and look at him with gentle eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Fine, perfect in fact.” He gushed, placing his hand on top of your bare knee whilst gently rubbing soothing circles into you as he plucked up the courage to confess. “I’ve uh, never done anything like this before.”

To say the least you’re surprised but you don’t let it show on your face. In fact, you’re quite honoured to be the first girl he’s done something intimate with but then again you’re a little cautious. “We don’t need to do anything if you don’t want to? We can stop and forget this ever happened but I want you to know that I’m kinda glad I’m your first.”

He sucks on the inside of his cheek, tilting his head a little. “Why are you glad about that?”

This time, it’s your turn to pluck up the courage despite the bravery of literally enticing him into watching you touch yourself. “It's always nice to know that the first time you do something with someone, is because you feel safe with them. Cared for.” You admit and Echo could almost well up at the confession.

He doesn’t know what to say so instead does something instead. He leans up to you, pausing for a second to see if you were comfortable with the proximity before ever so gently grazing his lips over yours. It’s tender, sweet and full of something he always wanted.

You kiss back with a soft desire, both hands coming up to place on either side of his hollow cheeks. He’s warm to the touch and his lips are easy to melt into. “I care about you too.” He utters against your lips and it’s nothing but the truth.

He did care about you, he always had. You would always listen, be brave and fierce. You know how to stand your ground but also have the utmost respect for those who deserve it. There was always something about you he liked but he supposedly was always too scared to admit it.

It’s not long until the kisses turn deeper and your naked chest is flushed against the warmth of his blacks. You’re panting, whispering his name over and over before he finds the tenacity to slide his tongue over your lips for entrance. To which you accepted in an instant.

He felt drunk as he explored your mouth with his tongue, hot and dominating all the while you moved your hands down to his cock and once you took a hold, he let out a shocked gasp but one of pleasure.

You giggle against his lips and tilt your head to the side and say, “This okay sweetie? You like it when I stroke your cock?”

“Yes, oh yes.” He moans softly, suddenly forgetting how to kiss as he primarily focused on how your hands felt wrapped around his cock. Although you had initially asked him to get a taste of you, you were so desperate to get a taste of him first.

Positioning yourself onto your knees, you gesture Echo to stand tall and he does. His arms fall uselessly down by his sides but the sight of you on your knees for him made his own metallic knees shake. There’s apprehension residing in him but that soon fades as you lock eyes with him and lower your head.

You see his chest rise and fall and a smirk grows on your lips as the tip of his cock brushes against your pouting lips, creating a small hiss from him.

“Such a pretty cock.” You swoon, giving his cock a few more experimental pumps with your dominant hand.

It really was.

Long, veiny and a desirable girth that made your pussy throb at the thought of it pushing into you.

He mumbled an incoherent reply along the lines of a ‘thank you’ and a ‘really?’ But his mumble is drowned out the second your tongue suddenly swirled around the head of his cock, her breath warming him up.

“O-oh Maker.” He stumbled at the sensation, never having such an erotic and exciting experience in all his life. He rests his forearm/scomp along the bar above your bed for support and sighs heavily.

This was unreal, it couldn’t be real he thinks to himself but he glances down to see you swallow his whole cock with little resilience as it stretches your mouth open. You gag against him, holding his tip at the back of your throat for a few seconds before pulling away with a loud gasp of air.

You’re giggling, licking the saliva from your lips before starting a steady pace against him, bobbing your head with the same rhythm he would typically use while he touched himself. And oh how wonderful you felt.

He thought his head was in the stars, eyes fluttering closed as he took in the sensation of your lips and tongue sliding up and down his length. You pulled back with a resounding pop that echoed off the ship's walls. You’re needy just like he was, your hand coming between your legs to touch that burning sensation there and rubbing frantically against your clit. Licking along his veiny shaft, his hips buck, moving on their own accord.

Soon, that guttural feeling of Echo hitting his climax was about to happen. It was quick and he felt embarrassed that he weren’t going to last longer than he would’ve hoped for.

He whispered your name through gritted teeth, “I’m, I’m going to cum.”

“That’s okay.” You encourage, kissing his tip as your hand moves along his cock. “You can do it in my mouth if you’d like.”

“Oh fuck.” He groans at the incitement you gave him. “S-so close, I’m so close.” He slurs his words and lets out heavy pants once you close your mouth around his rock-solid length and begin to bob your head back and forth again.

He looks down and the look in your eyes is what really sets him off. Had they always been the most beautiful shade? With the look in your eyes and the simultaneous sight of you sucking and pumping his cock, it had him groaning through his deep orgasm as he spilled his seed into your mouth.

You sucked until his cum was done spilling out before pulling your mouth away, swallowing, and ran your tongue over your bottom lip to collect what missed your throat.

The look on his face was probably the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. His eyelids were heavy and his skin glowed with glistening sweat. It was obvious that he had never experienced anything like this and it makes you frown. How could someone so sweet, so gentle not get the satisfaction he deserves?

Gently, you take a hold of his scomp and tug on it a little so he could sit down and catch his bearings. You stay quiet for a moment, letting him take it all in but look at him once he utters your name.

“That was… I don’t know what to say other than I think I should return the favour.”

“Well then,” you say softly, enticing him as you clean across and rest your chin atop of his shoulders until your lips are just grazing his cheek, “I’m ready and waiting for your tongue.”

He shudders at the feeling of your warmth breath and the way you kept luring him in caused his cock to stiffen once again as if ready for round two. In a second his lips are back on yours as he turns his body to face you, arms wrapping around your torso and bringing you flushed to him.

“Insatiable little minx, aren’t you?” He moans into your mouth which you swallowed like it was your last supper. You smirk then laugh a little, lips moving along his in a heated frenzy.

“I do try.” You boldly reply but the smirk that was on your lips was soon swiped off when Echo had flipped you onto your back and began attacking your neck with the most feverous kisses you had ever received in your life.

He’s on top of you and you begin clawing eagerly at his back, begging for him to be skin to skin with you. Leaning up, he began to strip off the remainder of his blacks but he paused. He sees the way your eyes land on the contraption locked against his chest and the realisation that you hadn’t been with a ‘disfigured man’, as he once called himself, came to light.

“My spine is worse.”

“Stop it.” You shake your head at him upon seeing the look on his face. “You’re incredibly handsome. I’ve also seen you shirtless before.”

He’s peeling his blacks slowly off his shoulders and he arches a brow. “Have you now?” He curiously asks, smirking a little as you manage to boost his confidence back up in a matter of seconds. This was typically a common trait you had; whenever one of the boys was feeling low you somehow always knew what to say.

“Maybe,” you say slowly as you watch him fall to his knees, spreading your legs open enticingly for him, “and I loved the view.”

“Just like how I love this one right here.” He melts at the sight in front of him and he understood what the delirium was now about whenever any of his brothers in the 501st would talk about their endeavours.

He spreads your thighs further apart, just having enough room for his shoulders to fit between your legs. Echo wasn’t sure why, but it felt to him that Hunter sending him back to the ship had zapped him into an alternative reality. How could he be so lucky enough to be between your legs?

Your pussy is glistening, already soaked and ready for him to make you even more wet. He’s nervous, never having done this before but he starts kissing softly along the inner of your left thigh until he put an experimental one against your folds.

A soft noise rumbles from you - one of pleasure he notes - and that’s when he slowly lowered his mouth again and licked up the slit, letting out a breath that ghosted across your clit. With each response you give, he repeated the process a few more times, all while avoiding your clit with his tongue.

“Please Echo, please.” You whimper, fingers harshly digging into your ruffled bed sheets. Bucking your hips, you desperately try to get his firm tongue to press against your clit but Echo was a quick learner and he liked to tease.

“Use your words mesh’la… please what?” He utters against your folds, vibrations coursing through your body like a recoil on a blaster. The second your hips buck again, his arm slides across your stomach, pushing you back down gently and holding you with enough force not to hurt but enough to keep you at bay.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, hiding your smirk at how devious Echo could be. You always saw him as a gentleman. In fact, you were so used to the Echo that would let you walk through doors first, have your back and always protect you… now he had his face between your legs making you tell him what it was you wanted.

“Please… please lick my clit.” You sigh softly, toes curling as he placed more languid licks to your folds. But, he did as you desired that sent your blood lava hot.

His tongue wraps around your clit and sucks. Hard.

Letting out a moan, fingers placed to the back of his head and edged him closer although impossible. Echo let out a moan just as eager as yours and the vibrations caused your breath to catch as star’s cloud your sight.

He kept up his ministrations on you, not letting his tongue slow down. Daringly, he begins to stroke your folds with his finger all the while caressing your clitto test the waters and when he hears you chant his name, he knows he struck gold and soaked his fingers, pushing inside of you.

It wasn’t long until he could tell you was getting close. With your hips starting to buck erratically and the whines and moans that fell from your lips, your thighs began to tighten around his head and he loved it. Every. Single. Second.

“I’m close, so, so close! Fuck, how are you so good at eating pussy?” You whined incoherently, your words now muffled as your thighs clamp over his head.

“Come on my tongue, that’s it.” He looks up over your breasts and the moment your eyes meet, that’s when your release took over.

Echo couldn’t believe what he was seeing, it was like nothing he had ever seen which to be fair, it wasn’t. You’re beautiful, truly a sight to behold when you came when you silently screamed his name. The sight itself almost had him melting and he almost came himself right then and there.

With your legs quivering as you come down from your glorious high, you lift your head up a little to see Echo wiping his lips and you flush warm at the sight. He rises up from his knees and slowly crawls over the top of you, trailing kisses from your pubic all the way over your nipples to your neck before he finds home on your lips.

You’re breathing a little heavy as he pulls away to look at you and that’s all you both do; look at one another. Your minds are reeling as you both decipher how strange yet needed this turn of events was and possibly how much trouble you’ll both get in. Then again, the Republic has fallen and there are no rules tied to them left.

Leaning up, you kiss him again but this time it’s slow, gentle. His forehead presses to yours, noses slightly squashed against one another and you shudder as his flesh hand comes up and cradles your cheek.

His length is hard against the base of your stomach and you’re ready for more, more that he was willing to give. “Echo,” you whisper and he knew it was a silent invitation.

“I’ve got you.” He sighs against the softness of your lips before lining himself up against your entrance. He pauses and asks, “are you sure?”

You vigorously nodded your head.

He slowly slid into you, groaning as you clenched around him. “Kriff, you are so tight. So perfect.” This new sensation drove him wild with lust, eyelids heavy. “Maker, it’s like you were fucking made for this cock.” He cursed and again, the way his dirty phrases slipped out of his mouth made your mouth water and core pang hot.

Once he was fully in, he pulled all the way out. Repeating the process to pace himself, but the second your legs wrapped around his waist that’s when he snapped his hips. Marvelling at the moan that tore from your swollen lips, he gave persistent motions that moved, picking up the pace each time till he was pounding into you.

“O-oh yes!” You moaned in pure pleasure, revelling in the feeling of his cock stretching open your tight little cunt and pounding into you that made the whole bunk shake. “Just like that, fuck you’re so fucking good.” You encouraged him, watching as Echo sits up straight and drags you closer to him, draping your legs over each shoulder. With every thrust he ploughs into you, his eyes land on your bouncing breasts.

“So beautiful, you’re so perfect.” He utters through gritted teeth, his hand coming down to play with one breast and then the other before pinching your hardened nipples.

You’re a whimpering mess beneath him, hands gripping onto the sheets for dear life. He’s getting closer to the edge again and boldly he places his scomp to your clit and slowly gyrates against it.

Your eyes shoot wide open as you let out a silent scream as you had never felt pleasure like before. You didn’t know why he had the function but the scomp begins to vibrate against you, the cold metal making your body a shuddering mess. “F-f-fuck.” Was all you could manage out.

“Such a pretty thing taking my cock, good girl.” His confidence has skyrocketed upon seeing what he could do to you and so praising you was the obvious next step. “You like this, huh? You like being fucked like the good girl you are?”

“I love it, I love it so much.” You pant, eyes fluttering closed as you focus on his words, his cock pushing inside of you and the vibrations on your clit.

The vibrations on your clit began to speed up and his hips were snapping ever quicker than before. He doesn’t know what compelled him to say this but in the heat of the moment, he just had to. “Say you’re mine.”

Your heart stops, but only for a moment.

“Please, Echo. I’m yours. I’ll be yours. Make me yours.” The sound of his name on your lips and you saying you are his is everything. Everything he never knew he needed. He gave one final, hard circle on your tender clit and watched as you practically exploded around him, walls clenching him into his own orgasm.

He groans out your name and as his hips falter, your legs leave his shoulders and he collapses on top of you in a puddle of sweat.

The pair of you stayed like that, Echo lying on top of you as you rubbed small circles on his back. You gathered it was his first time but Maker… he was incredible. Whilst you both kept trying to catch your breath, once he came down from his orgasm Echo rolled off you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

He’s silent for a moment before saying, “About what I said, telling you to be mine… you uh, don’t have to be.”

“Oh.” You say softly and Echo takes note of your sad tone and panics momentarily.

“No, what I mean is that I didn’t want it to sound so possessive. I’d be happy if you were.” He stutters over his words and judging by the flushed look on his face, he really meant it.

You hum in silent amusement and gently rest your head on his shoulder, a hand resting over his chest but being careful not to touch the metal parts. “Are you going to tell the others?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. It’s none of their business.” He said to set your mind at ease and it was true.

You both weren’t sure what was next for you both but what you did know was that right now you needed to sleep. He places a kiss to your temple and once you swept away into a blissful doze, he sent a message ahead to the boys to say he’ll be delayed for a few hours and soon closed his eyes and slept beside you.

Masterlist

More Echo Works

tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @adriiibell l @theroguesully @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @alexandrisonfire e @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @in-the-crosshairs @therealnekomari i @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @mylifeinthetardisforever @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @agenteliix @fiveshelmet @the-good-shittt @photogirl894 @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @rintheemolion

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wonwoostoilet · 1 month

Text

The Surge (Masterlist)

Part 1-4 and 6: Echo x GN!Reader, 16+

Part 5: Echo x Fem!Reader, 18+, NSFW

(Part 5 can be skipped if this is not for you, I guess you don’t need a summary.)

AO3 (registered users only)

This story got pretty intense…if you’re looking for fluff this is not for you.

I blame @rain-on-kamino’s bad influence for chapter 5.

Summary

As a supporter of the underground clone network you let Echo stay in your guestroom. When he gets hit by an electrical surge that shuts off all his cybernetic parts you barely have more than Rex on the comms and Tech’s software on the datapad to fix the situation. But Echo is not himself and not cooperating at all. It takes a lot of time and nerve but after all you manage to get him back to normal and you reconnect with each other. In the end the events pave the way for you to finally get close.

Links and summaries for all parts under the cut.

Part 1: System Failure

An electrical surge causes all of Echo's cybernetic parts to fail and it is up to you to get them running again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 4145

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Angst, Panic, PTSD, Trauma, Paralysis

Part 2: Rebooting

Echo has a flashback and refuses cooperation.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 4136

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Angst, Panic, PTSD, Trauma, Paralysis

Other Warnings: Swearing

Part 3: Reconnecting

After the horrible events you do your best to connect with each other again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6322

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Trauma, Guilt, Paralysis, Medical Procedure (suturing a wound)

Other Warnings: Swearing

Part 4: Scomp

You get closer in the kitchen.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 2316

Warnings: Frenching a scomp I have no idea how to rate this, I guess there’s no legal precedence

Part 5: Asset

Echo gives you his special treatment and he’s taking his sweet time.

Rating: Explicit, NSFW, 18+

Word Count: 6798

Trigger Warnings: none

Other Warnings: Smut, Oral (F receiving), Scomp in V, Swearing

Part 6: Armor

Rex brings new bacta patches and finds out that he has a lot of catching up to do.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 1412

PLEASE REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR WRITERS ♥️🖤🦾

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wonwoostoilet · 2 months

Note

*smashes ask button*

“I am NOT having sex in a closet! …Holy Kriff… okay… yes, let’s have sex in a closet.”

TBB ECHO PLS

I was on a REAL Echo kick... so hopefully this is a fun one for ya! :D

Echo x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.4k Minors DNI - NSFW Screenshot by @starqueensthings from one of the greatest collections of Echo faces ever created -- enjoy it here. Just how I picture Echo's face for the dialogue in this prompt. ;)

You glance at Echo across the room, heart warming at the sight of his furrowed brow and frowning lips, muttering over some project on his desk. You can’t believe your luck to be with someone like him; it’s been quite a few months, but the spark between you two was undeniable from the start, and the progression of your intimacy and passion as you both let your walls down had been incredibly fulfilling. Simply put, you couldn’t get enough of him.

“How much longer til we land, do you think?” you ask, inviting his attention away from his frustrating endeavor.

“About three hours or so. Why?”

“Ever had sex on a Venator-class Destroyer?” you continue, shocking him into dropping his tools as he stared at you with wide eyes and sharp brows. You both currently happened to be on a Venator-class Destroyer, tasked with a simple mission that had taken up almost all of your waking hours, and you could feel the pent-up tension nearing a critical level.

“Uh… no,” comes his flat reply, face contorted as though he still wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“Do you want to?” You try to hold back the laugh that threatened to burst out of you as he stared, and you can practically see smoke coming from his ears as he works through the logistics. Rising to your feet, you bring yourself to his side, leaning over his chair to dance light fingers across his head. “It’s been a couple weeks… I miss you,” you confess softly, lowering your lips to brush against his cheek and send a shiver down his spine.

“You do?” he sounds surprised, leaning into your affectionate touch.

“Don’t you?” you return.

“I... no, I mean... yes, of course I do,” he splutters, capturing one of your hands in his own and bringing it to his lips, pressing them against it for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I just… We haven’t had time… And there’s no place…”

A sly grin curves your cheeks as you step back to regard him evenly, “Well, you said we have three hours til landing, right?” You caress his cheekbone with a few fingers, earning a sharp inhale when you drop your hand to his neck to continue your exploratory strokes.

“Yeah,” he says with a nod, “But I don’t think Rex would appreciate us… you know… fraternizing on the job…”

“Do you plan to comm him or something?” you ask, a giggle escaping your lips as you pull him to his feet beside you.

“Of course not,” he snorts, shifting from one foot to the other. You glide a hand up his arm, resting it on his shoulder, toy with his waist with your other hand as he continues. “I just mean… We’d probably get caught, no?”

“Not if you’re quiet,” you whisper against his lips. You can feel his yearning, the way his body responds to you, held back only by the strict adherence to rules and regulations that earned him his name. “If you're uncomfortable with it, we absolutely don't have to,” you continue, dropping your mouth to his neck, trailing light kisses from jaw to collarbone.

He tenses as though trying to resist, but your gentle nip on his skin melts the remaining resolve, and he stifles a groan as he speaks, “No, it’s… uh… It’s alright.” It’s as though any further words are dissolving along with him, and he’s putty in your hands as you laugh gleefully, pulling him toward down the corridor with a surreptitious glance in either direction. The supply closet door whooshes open before the two of you, and you drag him in, tapping onto the keypad to lock the door behind you.

“Wait a minute,” he says, his usual conviction and dryness returning to his voice. “I am not having sex in a closet…”

“No?” you pout, fingers exploring the edges of his armor, inviting him to free himself of the plastoid plates. You step back, pulling your shirt over your head, heart thrilling at the sight of his widened eyes taking in your form. “Are you sure?” you croon, sliding your pants off your legs to stand before him in just your undergarments. His jaw is slack, your boldness having left him frozen in disbelief.

“I mean…” he begins, but his reply is cut off by your lips pressed to his. The muffled words fade into a groan as you tilt your head, deepening your kiss and teasing him with the tip of your tongue. His hands bury in your hair, pulling you close while his tongue caresses your own. “Holy kriff…” he gasps, barely able to get the words out between his increasingly hungry kisses, “I’m having sex in a closet…”

You laugh in sheer delight, pulling away to remove his armor plates, and he hastily joins the cause. As he is undressed to just his blacks, he pauses, lifting his head to yours with a soulful look of gratitude laced with desire. You wonder if he feels self-conscious at all; your intimacy so far has only been in the darkness of night, wrapped around each other in a pitch-black bunk. But the faint glow of the dim lights in the supply closet illuminate the curves and edges of both bodies, highlighting the stark differences between them.

He catches your gaze roving over his form, trying to conceal the nerves behind his facade of confidence, “You uh… like what you see?”

“Oh kriff yes,” you breathe, smiling at the sheepishness masked by his words. “You are… so amazing…” you murmur, unable to resist another lingering kiss. Your hand travels the front of his torso, pausing at his waist as you step a little closer, fitting your form against his. “Brave… and handsome… and witty… and resourceful… and snarky…” your compliments are punctuated with kisses, increasing in intensity as your hand continues down, over the curve of his buttcheek, giving it a playful squeeze.

Your words seemed to breathe new life into him, his arms tightening around you as you slip your fingers beneath his shirt. He stiffens at the sensation of your cool fingers on his stomach, and when you tantalizingly trace them from one side of the waistband of his pants to the other, his gaze darkens as he buries a hand in your hair, scomp arm possessive on your waist. A gentle kiss turns into a more suggestive bite on your neck, fanning your own flame into a blaze, and you reach for his pants, tugging them down to his ankles and savoring every inch of his naked body.

He’s in the moment, then out of it – taken away by the concern of being discovered, as well as a million other things that could go wrong. You glide your hands over his torso, metal and skin melded together beneath your palms, and step between his legs, pressing the front of your hip against his length. At the same time, you take one of his hands in your own, resting it against your breast as you subtly move against him to create the perfect little friction.

He swallows noisily, a shuddering breath escaping him as he caresses your chest, the other hand reaching around to free you from the remaining fabric. He slides it down your arms, feeling his own desire grow as it drops to the floor. You remember his particularly enthusiastic response to talking during your previous encounters, and nuzzle your face next to his ear.

“Gods, I want you,” you whisper, reveling in his stiffening in response. His hand is firmer on your breast, his chin tipping upward as though looking to heaven. “I want you bad.”

“Kriff,” he growls, pressing you into the wall at your back. Threats of discovery forgotten, he is simultaneously overwhelmed and confident, pleading and hungry. His hand finds your thigh, gripping it briefly with barely-restrained desire before continuing up between your legs, deft fingers kneading promises of what’s to come on top of your wet underwear.

“Yesss,” you breathe, arching into him. “Come on… I want you to have your way with me…”

His eyes blaze into yours with a fire that makes your knees weak, and he dips his hand beneath the flimsy panties, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes as he strokes along your folds. “I don’t know what to do in a place like this,” he mutters, bringing a smile to your face at his frankness even in the midst of passion.

“You’re pretty creative…” you whisper, biting your lip to silence the whine that comes in response to his fingers finding your clit. The rest of your thoughts melt into oblivion as he works it in a gentle circle, dipping back down into your opening and spreading your slick arousal as he continues the tantalizing combinations. Breathy whispers of praise and curses fall indiscriminately from your lips as he continues, teasing your entrance between firm strokes that make you want to ride him into the sunset.

When he finally does slip a finger inside, underwear pulled off to the side, you bury your face in his neck, every muscle in your body tensing as you arch yourself closer to him. “I… ahh…” you can barely speak; he’s sliding his fingers in and out, gently stretching, stoking the fire.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, coaxing breathy mewls from you as he adds a finger, solid as a rock as your hands grasp at him all over, searching for something to ground yourself with.

“I wanna fuck you.”

“Hmm,” his rumble is carnal and satisfied, and he pulls his fingers away, leaving a cold emptiness in their wake. “Well, nothing like a filthy floor…” he mutters, earning another giggle from you.

“Wait!” you say suddenly, spotting a field tent canvas neatly folded on a stack of crates. You fling it across the floor, shaking it until it’s fully spread. And then he’s on top of you, kissing and grinding, moaning and stroking. He’s all or nothing, restrained or feral, and you could happily drown yourself in his ardor when he let himself loose. Your underwear are tugged down your legs, deftly twirled on the end of his scomp arm until they’re flung against the wall.

You push him over, rolling to bring yourself on top and gazing satisfied down at his intense face. Leaning your torso over him, you cup his cheek, sliding your wet pussy up and down his shaft. He presses his face into your hand in response, squirming beneath you in pure bliss.

“Filthy tease,” he growls as you rock back and forth, relishing the friction but not taking him inside just yet.

“What are you gonna do about it?” you whisper, your smile quickly dropping into a small “o” of surprise as he angles his own hips suddenly, hand on your waist, and thrusts into you without warning. “Ohhhh kriff,” you gasp, sinking down on him fully as he bottoms out. You make a mental note to challenge him more often, then your brain turns to mush as he leans his head forward to take a nipple in his mouth. The waves of electricity surging through you could power a small planet, and you grasp the tent canvas with white knuckles.

You begin to move up and down, whining in pure bliss at the way his cock drags along your walls, filling you perfectly when you take him in so deep. You play with the angle, leaning back to give him a show as you rest your hands on his thighs, then coming back over him, hair scattering across your face, rocking your pelvis back and forth to get some friction on your clit as well. He murmurs encouragement into your ear, lips seeking any inch of skin they could reach, sucking and licking his hunger. The sounds of your passion grow louder – groans and sighs, the slapping of your bodies coming together again and again, whines and pleads for more.

When you sit up again, humping him like your life depended on it, he drops his hand to your mound, finding your clit with his thumb and drawing you into deeper ecstasy as he combines it with the thrusts of his hips. The tight coil in your core is twisted, twisted, twisted by his relentless ministrations, springing free suddenly as his mouth finds a breast again. There’s no being quiet now, as you mewl your release against the side of his head, coaxing him on to his own. Waves of pleasure cascade over you both, rocking you to the core and leaving you exhausted, heavy, and awash with tingles that you don’t think will be fading anytime soon. You collapse in a pile of arms and legs, mess and sweat, flushed skin and swollen parts, and snuggle up against one another, seeking just a few more minutes of utter bliss in the afterglow of passion.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The sudden sound of a fist on the door startles both of you, flooding you with cortisol and adrenaline. Echo leaps to his feet immediately, frantically scrambling to get his clothes on.

“What the kriff is wrong with the door? LENNY!” a clone voice shouts, just outside. “Get that datapad over here…”

He’s in a near panic as he attempts to get his blacks over his head, realizing after an increasingly enraged struggle that it’s actually his pants. You’re trying to be serious and supportive, really you are, but you’re so love drunk and floating on a cloud that you can’t help but giggle. You throw on your shirt and pants, tucking your underwear into a pocket, and try to help him with the armor plates. He swats your hand away, hands fumbling, and the door suddenly whooshes open.

“What’s goin on in here?” The brown eyes scan the room, taking in your huddled forms piecing back his armor.

“He… We needed to fix this… hinge…” you point at an arbitrary place on his armor, watching him sink his face into his hand in response. “So we came here to… fix it.” It took all your composure to keep from grinning like an idiot… but the clone across from you already was.

“Mmhmm. I see. Well…” he cleared his throat, backing toward the door again. “Thanks for helping the troops, ma’am… That armor is a real Hutt spawn sometimes…”

As he disappeared and left the two of you alone again, your gaze immediately found Echo’s, laughter brimming within. But his expression was tightly drawn, warmth and affection flickering at the edges as he stared at you sternly.

“I can’t believe you.”

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wonwoostoilet · 2 months

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Be Mine

Falling into bed with the handsome Sergeant hadn't been on your bingo card. Then again, falling in love with him certainly hadn't been either.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: unprotected PiV, a sprinkle of a praise kink, pet names, friends to lovers, a sprinkle of a scent kink, soft aftercare.

It had all happened so quickly.

One moment, you’d been stood at the back of the Marauder with Hunter discussing food rations and when the rest of the Batch would be back from their exploration.

The next, you were face down on a bottom bunk, naked from the waist down, with his rough hands hauling you backwards onto his cock. “That’s it, cyar’ika.” The smokey smoothness of Hunter’s voice cut through the sounds of your whimpers and skin meeting skin. “Wanted this for so long. You have no idea.” He grunted, tightening his grip on your hips. You’d have bruises shaped like his dexterous fingers tomorrow, a delicious reminder of this moment.

Hand flexing against the flimsy sheet, you vaguely registered that it was Echo’s bunk you were face down on. “Tell me.” You whined, gasping as a fluid roll of Hunter’s hips made his heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Canto Blight.” Hunter gritted out, slowing his thrusts so he could languish in your warmth. He wanted this to last. Needed it to. “That blasted dress. I wanted to drag you back here, hike up the hem, and have you until dawn.” The memory lived rent-free in his mind. It had been your second mission with them, and the Sergeant had already found himself enamoured with you, so when you’d stepped out the fresher dressed to impress, he’d never been more grateful to be the only one able to hear his racing heart.

“Mhmmm. I still have the dress.” You purred, enjoying that he’d lusted after you for so long. Releasing the sheets, you reached a hand down to rub your clit, but Hunter pushed it away. You didn’t have time to let out a whine of frustration before he pulled all the way out of you, strong hands moving to grab your thighs so he could flip you over and pick you up, your legs and arms automatically wrapping around him.

“Next time. Oh, Maker, next time.” Hunter promised, capturing your lips in a fiery kiss as he moved you across to his bunk. He needed his sheets to smell like you – he wanted to bury himself in them later that night and bathe in your scent. The damn scent that had been driving him wild since you’d set foot on the Marauder many moons ago at Cid’s behest.

His roughness abated as he slowly settled you down on his bed, making sure you didn’t bang your head on the metal frame or hurt your back. It made your heart clench. Finding his eyes in the darkness of the ship, you watched as the fierce hunger from moments before dissipated, and a softness crept over the usually stoic man’s face. “Next time?” You questioned quietly, lifting a hand to run your fingers across his tattooed jawline as he settled above you, caging you in. His weight was comforting – solid and steadfast – but it was hard to miss the firm press of his erection.

“If you want?” Hunter’s hips started to move, pressing himself against you, eliciting a small mewl from your parted lips as he tried to play it cool. He could get drunk on your sounds, on the feel of your soft skin beneath his calloused fingers, of the warmth in your voice and the sweet ways you showed affection. He noticed every time you stole a glance his way, how you stepped forward to protect him when he was in danger, and that his clothes were always neatly folded on his bunk with a piece of his favourite candy on top after laundry day. He’d been sceptical when Cid had insisted you go along with them as another set of hands, but he couldn’t think of the ship anymore without your presence, your scent, or the sound of your laughter as you tormented his siblings.

“Oh, I want.” You agreed, exhaling shakily. The slip and slide of his cock through your folds was delicious but not enough. “Hunter. Need more. Need you.” You begged.

The hunger from early roared back into life, igniting Hunter’s blood. Pushing away the softer feelings to focus on later, he focused on your current situation. How he longed to bury his face between your thighs and eat you out, slide his fingers and cock into you, pull orgasm after orgasm from you, and fill you with his release. Spurred on by his thoughts, he wasted no time reaching down to align himself with your entrance, and in one steady push, he settled himself back inside of you, marvelling at the way your mouth opened in a silent gasp at the sensation.

Every nerve in your body was alight. Senses overwhelmed by the man on top of you. While Hunter was average in length, his girth led to the most delicious stretch as your body accommodated him. Feeling him fully sheathed inside of you was heavenly, and in your delight, you clenched around him, watching as his eyes screwed shut while his deep groan filled the air. “Keep doing that, and I won’t last long.” He warned, making you smile. It didn’t matter how long he lasted, so long as you both got to experience your highs – you couldn’t imagine how overwhelming it must be for him, with his heightened sense of touch, to feel you so thoroughly.

Leaning up to close the small distance, you captured Hunter’s lips in a kiss, your left hand reaching up to caress his face while the other slipped under the top half of his blacks, tracing every strong muscle you found.

Feeling less like he was going to blow his load any second, Hunter surrendered himself to your kiss and picked up the pace, snapping his hips against yours, driving himself into you over and over, relishing the sweet drag of your walls around his cock. Hunter felt light-headed; he could spend an eternity tangled up with you, which both thrilled and terrified him. Though the space was limited in his bunk, he shifted to rest all his weight on one hand, breaking your kiss while maintaining his thrusts. Sliding a hand between you both, he honed in on his target. You wouldn’t go without. He’d make damn sure of it.

Fingers finding purchase on your clit, he spent a moment figuring out what you liked, vision and hearing focused on the myriad of expressions that crossed your features and the sounds slipping from your lips. It only took a few tries before he had you whimpering, his grin of satisfaction blinding, only ceasing as you stretched up to capture his lips in a heated kiss once more.

“Fuck, Hunter.” You panted, breaking the kiss as your back arched. He was relentless, sure and steady fingers circling your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, and you drew a low moan from the exquisite man above you as you tightened around him. The familiar tension was starting, seeping through your body and overwhelming you.

Enraptured as he watched you chase your release, Hunter slowed his pace and angled his hips, grinning at the sound of your gasp. The way his name sounded tumbling from your lips was simultaneously heavenly and sinful – either way, he couldn’t get enough. “That’s it, cyare. I want to see you fall apart. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” He whispered, testing the waters. You always responded well to his praise while out on jobs.

It was all too much. The weight of Hunter above you, the sweet drag of his cock in you as he kept hitting that perfect spot with each thrust, and the sound of his deep voice in your ears. You wanted to please him. Wanted to fall apart at his behest. Wanted to be a good girl. Hands scrambling against the sheets for purchase, you bit down on your lower lip. You were close. So close. The tension in your body was almost unbearable, your pussy clamping down on him, making every push and pull feel even more exquisite. Hunter gave a few quick circles on your clit, and your body tingled, the tension snapping as you cried out. You trembled through the waves of your orgasm, the pleasure overwhelming and all-encompassing.

Pulling in a shaky breath, you meet the hungry gaze of the man above you.

“Where?” He asked once he was sure you were back with him. He was close. So close. You’d tightened around him, gripping him like your life depended on it. You could make or break him, and he’d thank you either way.

Releasing the sheets, you grasped at Hunter’s shoulders, giving yourself some leverage as you met his thrusts with each rock of your hips. “Inside.” You insisted.

That was it. You would be the death of him. And he would gladly go down with the ship. His lips met yours, and with one final, sharp thrust, he grunted, letting go. Thighs quivering as he crested over the edge, he spilled himself deep inside you.

Neither of you spoke for a second, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your highs. Resting your foreheads together, eyes closed, you relished the closeness, basking in the afterglow. “Mesh’la…” Hunter’s low voice broke the silence as he moved to nuzzle his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply.

Everything stilled as he breathed you in, focusing on the thud of your heart as its pace slowed to your resting rate. It brought him a great deal of comfort in an increasingly shifting galaxy. He hadn’t meant for your first time together to be like this, hadn’t dared to dream it would ever happen if he were being honest with himself, but he didn’t regret a second of it.

“We should’ve done that sooner.” You whispered, feeling more in control of your racing heart. Hunter’s warm breath fanned against your neck as he chuckled, the deep rumble stoking the warmth in your heart.

You stayed that way for a while before shifting into a more comfortable position, Hunter’s head resting on your chest. Basking in each other’s warmth, you relished the quiet moment of peace; the only sounds were your soft breaths and Hunter’s light hums of appreciation as you scritched his scalp, running your fingers through his mop of brown hair.

“Be mine?” Hunter asked suddenly, shifting to prop himself up so he could gaze down at you, committing the sight of you in his bunk, smelling like him and sex, to memory. “I'd...” He pauses, gaze flittered away momentarily. "I'd like there to be an us." The admission made him feel strangely vulnerable. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but he didn’t want to hold back anymore.

This time, you dragged your fingers across the uninked planes of his handsome face. “As long as you’re mine in return.” Your words had his gaze snapping back to you, hope sparking in his eyes as his lips curled into a smile.

808 notes · View notes

wonwoostoilet · 2 months

Text

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

❝ PROF GETO BROKE YOUR HEART & NOW YUTA IS HOT ?? ❞

✧ pairing: prof!suguru geto x f!reader (& grad student! yuta x f!reader)

✧ summary: after suguru leaves you broken hearted, yuta's there for you when you're putting your heart back together, and he's not sure when or if he even wants you to tell you how you feel. but what happens when you start to realize your feelings?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, angst, depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader and yuta are grad students, but age is vague, dealing with a breakup, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @ / polariae (who is incredible and everyone should go follow them now!!)

✧ wc: 12,464

Yuta felt as if he was always running late — for everything.

He had transferred into this university a year into his schooling, he was always running late to meetings, and he was too late when he fell for you.

But he seemed to have good timing in this moment — as he ran into you, as why was it he could always find you effortlessly without trying, but there was no smile on your lips when you met his gaze, but only tears — if only so he could comfort you.

He says your name, as he stops you gently, fingers brushing against your shoulders, as your gaze falls to the ground, “What happened? Are you—”

“Yuta, I’m sorry, I have to go—” but he stops you for a moment.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s completely fine, but can I call someone?” he says gently, he could see the tears slipping off your cheeks, even as you attempted to wipe them away, “I don’t think you should be alone—”

And then you’re hugging him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t—but I—”

His arms go around you gently, “It’s okay, don’t apologize, I’m here for you,” and he doesn’t know what else to do but stand there with you, as curious gazes of passersby watched the two of you, “come on, let’s go somewhere more private.”

~~~

When had he fallen for you? It was hard to say, but apparently easy to see.

“So did you tell her you like her?” And Yuta nearly spits his drink out when Maki asks him that after one of the student government meetings. She sipped at the can of black coffee, nonchalantly, her eyebrows raised at his sputtering. He wipes his mouth, a slight glare in his gaze, “based on that reaction, I would say no,”

“What are you talking—“ and your name leaves Maki’s lips, and his cheeks flush, ears burning, as he presses his knuckles to his lips, unable to meet her gaze, “was it that obvious?”

“To a person with eyes,” and his gaze snaps to her, a question on his lips, “no, she doesn’t know,”

Yuta slumps back in the chair he was sitting in, as he sets his drink down on the round table, “how can I tell her? She has a boyfriend,”

“One that she doesn’t even see that often,” Maki leans back in her chair, “I’ll give you some unsolicited advice, Yuta — if you keep having these feelings and don’t do anything about it, you’ll regret it,”

But how could he do anything when he already knew you were struggling? It wasn’t enough that your boyfriend was far away, but he didn’t seem to make time to come see you — even on your birthday — but to push his feelings on you on top of that. It wasn’t fair.

So he had to settle on being your friend, just your friend.

“What happened?” He asks again when the two of you get to a secluded corner of campus, a bench far enough away, as you sniffled, wiping your tears and murmuring apologies, “you don’t have to talk about it—“

And you shake your head, “My boyfriend, he, uh, broke up with me,” and he stares at you — your voice wavering as you speak, “I just, didn’t expect that to, you know—“

Yuta tilts his head, speaking softly, “Why don’t I take you back to your apartment?”

So he does, taking the quick metro ride there, as your fingers brush his as the two of you walk beside each other. The silence hangs as comfortably as it can, your eyes straight ahead, as he sneaks glances at you. He wants nothing more than to take your hand, to tell you it would be okay, but he couldn’t — he didn’t want to overstep. It had already been hard enough to contain his feelings when you were with someone — and now that you weren’t — he wanted nothing more than to love you as you deserved to be loved.

But it wasn’t his love you wanted — and it wasn’t what you needed either.

You needed a friend, not a lover, more than ever.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Yuta,” you mumble, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess — I’m not being—“

“You don’t have to be anything, you’re fine,” he says softly, as you fumble with your keys, “do you want company?”

You give a terse chuckle, as you unlock the door, “I’m not the best company right now, Yuta,”

And he could have told you that you were the company he always wanted, the company he never would say no to — good or bad — but he couldn’t. So he said something else.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make up for it by being very good company,” and you give a watery laugh, shaking your head, as you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder.

“Are you sure?” And he only steps past you into your apartment, as he smiles.

“Come on, I’ll order us dinner and you can put on an…interesting movie again,” and your lips quirk up as you step past him into the apartment.

He couldn’t be more than a friend — not now — but maybe at some point. But he would be happy to just be in your life.

That was enough.

~~~

He wasn’t enough, Suguru sat in the train, the sun long set on Tokyo as he watched the city fade into the distance — as he leaned his face against the glass of the window. He had taken a late train back to Kyoto — one of the last — he could have taken an earlier one, but he had lost track of time.

How long did he stand there?

It felt like hours — minutes had ticked by as such, but he knew it was long enough for him to miss several trains by the time he had left for the station. It was long enough that he saw you disappear in the distance, Yuta assumedly in tow.

It was right — it was what was necessary. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scenery move past him in seconds, but it felt as if time had stood still. He could hear the soft snores and quiet murmuring of the sparse passengers among the train, the footsteps of others as they walked up and down the aisle, and the steady shudder of the train as it ran along to its destination. But still, it felt as if he was still trapped behind glass in that moment, he watched himself drop your heart, watched it shatter beneath his feet, and he didn’t go after you.

Why didn’t go after you?

He asked himself again and again — but the only answer amongst the buzzing white noise that had only served to numb his mind to the pain was that it was necessary.

He had always known you had a bright future — you could anywhere, lecture overseas, do fellowships or a Phd program, or even become a professor elsewhere. But when he had spoke to Yaga, it had solidified in his mind even more so — he wasn’t giving you what you needed and he was holding you back while he was at it.

And the worse part was he knew you would never blame him — not for a minute. You would try to make it work. Long distance, giving opportunities up, or even choosing him over yourself. And he couldn’t abide letting you give up what you wanted for him — even if it wasn’t what you would have chosen. Because he knew you would always choose him.

So he had to be the one to choose you.

He needed to leave you behind, just as he had left Tokyo. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with it — and live without you.

It was necessary. It was right — he shut his eyes, leaning against the window beside his seat, tears burning at the corners, as a tear rolled past hidden behind his hand — so why did it feel so wrong to be without you?

~~~

You didn’t want to wake up.

You pulled the comforter over your head, finding refuge underneath the plush duvet, and wondering if it was possible to stay under here long enough for your problems to disappear. But you knew the pain would remain, but even so, you sought the sweet escape of sleep — if only for a few hours, you didn’t have to feel this heartache, you didn’t have to remember this.

You didn’t have to remember him.

And then there’s a knock on your door, a persistent knock that draws you from the arms of your only oasis under your sheets, and you drag yourself from bed, your eyes aching from your tears from last night.

Fuck, you rubbed at your eyes. You glanced at the couch, finding no one there — when did Yuta leave last night? You couldn’t remember — and you’re dead on your feet as you find your way to the door, opening it without a thought.

And your breath caught.

“Suguru?” you stared, as he stood in front of you, bouquet of flowers in hand. You stumbled over your words as gracefully as you had gotten out of bed, as his arms wrapped around you. You stood motionless for a moment before melting into his touch, tears burning at your eyes yet again, “what are you doing here? Why—“

“What do you mean?” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “you know I can’t stand to spend more than a few hours away from you,” and you’re burying your face in his chest, biting back the urge to sob then and there.

You kept your tone as even as you can manage as you pull away, “Suguru, you said—“

“I know I’m early, but we can just spend some time together before we head out—“

And you’re shaking your head, “Head out where?”

He furrows his brow in confusion, a chuckle escaping his lips, “Did you forget? You’re the one who insisted that we should be early — you kept saying we couldn’t be late,”

“To what?”

“Our engagement party,” he takes your hand gently intertwining your fingers to show you the ring you wore — and you’re staring at it, as he presses sweet kisses to each of your knuckles, “now shouldn’t you get ready? Or are you the one who’ll make us late?”

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours in a gentle kiss, warmth blooming from his touch alone, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulder. For a second, it’s real and it’s right — Suguru has found his way back to you.

Right?

And his lips part from yours, his fingers brushing your cheek, “I love you,” he murmurs, saying your name again and again and—

A hand brushes your shoulder and you jolt awake, your hand slapping whatever had touched you away, as your fingers grasped at your comforter. You blinked, as your breath slowed, and you had found yourself in bed—

Again.

And another mutter of your name snaps your gaze up to find Yuta standing a foot from your bedside now, his brow wrinkled, holding his hand in the other—

Fuck.

“Oh my god, Yuta, I’m sorry — I was having a—“ you cut off a moment, you didn’t know whether to call it a dream or a nightmare, “just, I’m sorry,” you cover your face with your hands, “I barely remember getting into bed last night,”

He waves you off, “It’s ok, I know you had a rough night,” he offers a small smile, “I had to help you into bed — you were a little out of it, so I just stayed on the couch,”

You groan, wishing you could burrow into the Earth and never emerge, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again—I’m sorry I made you stay—“

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, “I’m your friend — I’m here for you,” and you swallow, tears burning at your eyes again, “s-sorry, did I?”

And you shake your head before slipping out of bed and hugging him, “Thank you, Yuta, really,” and he wrapped his arms around you tentatively, “I think you’re my best friend,”

You were so lucky to have him — especially when you needed someone the most.

“Of course,” he murmured, and you didn’t not know his heart was aching ever so slightly, “you’re mine too.”

~~~

“Do you want to talk about what happened with…your boyfriend?” Yuta knew the only way you would be able to heal is by talking about it — and that’s the one thing you had avoided doing all weekend. Sure you talked — but about the movies you were watching, about classes, about anything — then what had happened.

You hadn’t brought it up since that morning, you had washed up and it was as if he had imagined what had happened. You made breakfast, you put on a movie, and you joked about his allegedly questionable restaurant choices. But not a word about your dream or about your breakup.

But he knew he had to ask.

You were just coming off laughing at something that had happened in the rom-com you had switched on, and your lips fell into a seamless frown, as if the facade of happiness melted off with his words.

Your gaze falls, arms tightening around the cushion in your lap, a bitter chuckle falling from your lips, “does anyone ever want to talk about their breakup?”

He furrows his brow, “Bottling it up won’t help you heal from it — the only way is to let it out, and I can’t tell you what to do but—“ he bites his bottom lip, your eyes never lifting to meet his, “I know you need to let it out, one way or another,”

You pause a moment, as you press your face against the cushion, “It hurts too much, Yu, I don’t know if I can,”

“It doesn’t have to be now, I just want you to—“

“We were long distance,” and he’s opening his mouth to cut you off, but you shake your head, “you’re right — if I don’t talk about it now, I never will,”

So you told him. Told him how you both had gotten together right before your boyfriend had received a job offer that required him to move, how the two of you decided to date regardless, and how you continued to be long distance even after he started.

“It just got harder to see each other, and he ran late on my birthday but I didn’t care—“ and Yuta tilts his head, “I mean, I did care — but I knew it was temporary. I was going to graduate and move to be with him—“ and your nails dig into the soft fabric of the cushion, “but it didn’t matter. He thought it was for the best — for my best interest — that we break up,”

He furrows his brow. This, the crying and heartache, was for your best interest? “Why—“

“Because he thought I was limiting my options, that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend — one that I deserved,” you shake your head, tossing the cushion aside on the couch, “but he didn’t understand — I just wanted him—I knew it would be different when we were together—“ your voice breaks, “but he didn’t want to wait.”

Yuta lets you talk and lets you rant and cry — until you’re asleep after lunch, taking a nap on the couch beside him. And he wonders if this is helping, but at least you’re sleeping now — he spotted the bags under your eyes when he saw you wake in the morning — as if you had spent the entire night tossing and turning.

Was this okay for him? He wasn’t expecting anything — aside from your friendship. He didn’t think you were going to wake up and fall in love only because he did what a friend should do. But was it okay for him to be here?

Because he couldn’t quash the little bit of hope that inched its way into the crevice of his heart that maybe you’d heal from this — maybe you would be able to get over this and you’d see him, as more than a friend or a best friend. He wanted to think he would do this even if he didn’t have feelings for you — it would probably be easier if he didn’t.

But the facts stand that his motivation was corrupt — he chuckled, fuck, even the philosophy you had dosed him with, during your meals and student government meetings, was infecting his mind. Motivation mattered — because if you know or expect a reward from doing something, no matter how hard you try, your motivation will always be just that,

And his eyes slide to you — fast asleep as he grabs the throw blanket on your couch and gently places it over you — but he wouldn’t mind being corrupt, if it meant he could stay with you.

~~~

“She broke up with her boyfriend?” Maki raises an eyebrow, placing her drink down, “and you still haven’t told her?” Maki’s judgment pierced through Yuta, even as he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, biting his lip, “what are you waiting for? For her to get back together with him?”

“Maki, I can’t make a move so soon—she’s vulnerable—“

She sighs, leaning back, as she crosses her arms, “Well, you’re a good guy for that, but you need to do something, even if it’s not confessing. You should try spending more time with her, encourage her to open up more—“

“I don’t know — I don’t want to overstep—“

“Yuta,” Maki cuts him off, “you’re a good guy and you deserve to be happy — you spend a lot of time worrying about other people, and not enough time thinking about yourself. If she’s not ready right now that’s fine, but she might not realize she’s ready until someone helps her to,” she tilts her head, her fingers beginning to toy with the straw of her drink, “I just don’t want to see you regret hesitating,”

Yuta’s phone went off — your name flashing on the screen, hey, are you free to hang out and watch a movie tonight? Finally finished working on my thesis proposal for the night!

Maki glances at his phone, raising an eyebrow, “just don’t wait too long, “or you may end up alone, either way.”

~~~

“I told you we should have gotten dumplings tonight,” you grumble, as the two of you take your takeout back to your apartment, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, “I can’t believe the sushi place was closed,” you pout.

And Yuta bites back a smile — his cheeks burn — god, you’re so cute. It wasn’t fair. He knew you were just mostly teasing — only so you could have the pick of the movie tonight — which you knew he’d give you anyway.

The two of you had settled into these weekly movie nights on Fridays, which had a 70% chance of devolving into a weekend of hangouts amidst work for your programs. It had been weeks since your breakup — and your sadness seemed to ebb with each passing day, normalcy seemingly returning.

“We could have gone there—“ and you give a long, over dramatic sigh, shaking your head.

“It’s fine, but if this food sucks, I will be holding this over your head,” you bump him with your shoulder, a smile on Yuta’s lips, and right then someone calls out Yuta’s name. The two of you glance back, and Yuta blinks as he spots his friends.

“Toge, Panda,” Yuta greets them, Toge’s hands raise as he begins to sign—

Hey, who’s your friend?

Yuta replies, before gesturing to you, introducing you by name, “we’re just headed back to watch a movie—“ and he points from the shorter one to the taller one, “this is Toge and Panda,” Panda flashes a knowing smile, adjusting his leather jacket, head tilting as he gives you a small once over. Toge’s lips are covered with his face mask, his dyed silver hair brushing against his forehead —

Panda grins between the two of you, “Ah it’s good to meet you — I heard about you from Yuta, and Maki," he adds, while Yuta shoots him a look that he hopes that you don’t notice, “how’s the work in student government? I hope Maki isn’t working you too hard,” but you seem oblivious to it, only smiling between the two of them.

“No it hasn’t been bad, and Yuta has made it really easy. He’s been a really big help—“ and Panda before leaning over to whisper in Yuta’s ear.

“You have a chance with her, don’t mess it up,” Panda’s elbowing him, before clapping him on the back, his arm slinking around his shoulders, while Yuta tries to will his blush to leave his cheeks, “well we should let them get going, right, Toge?” and Toge nods, and Yuta only knows Toge has a smile hidden under his mask as well, flashing a thumbs up out of your line of sight, while you glance between Yuta and Panda, “you two love birds have fun!”

And Yuta stammered, “We’re not together like that,” he’s shooting a glare at Panda’s back as the two of them walk off, waving. And his eyes snuck a glance at you, but you seemed unfazed, only tilting your head — and shit, his head was spinning, heart doing its best to exit via his chest by banging against his ribs. Did you know? Was it obvious? Was this it?

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,”

And apparently it wasn’t.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I learned when I met Toge in high school,” he offers a forced smile — but relief isn’t the only thing that floods his system, disappointment comes in waves — because again, here he was, right back at the start.

The two of you continued to chat on the walk back to your apartment, his fingers curled tightly around the handles of the takeout bag as you pulled out your keys, wondering how many more times would he do this — how many more times would he think you realized his feelings only for it to remain unspoken? He was more than okay to stay your friend, but — he watched you open the door to your apartment — would he regret not taking a shot at being something more?

And as you glanced back at him, a smile on your lips, he knew he would.

~~~

You didn’t think it would — but it had gotten easier, easier to be without Suguru.

There were days you still had woken up crying, there were other days you had almost forgotten.

Almost.

But now in hindsight, adjusting to life without Suguru hadn’t been much different than being with him the last few months. Not when the two of you had barely seen each other. You had put away his things, tucked away the memories, and picked up the scattered parts of your life —even though you couldn’t find the piece he had taken with him.

But even so, you had finally felt as if you boarded up the love the two of you had built, one that he had set on fire and burnt the insides to nothing but ash and smoke — the same fire that had you coughing up the broken pieces of your heart — throat burning with his name on the tip of your tongue.

Even so — your fingers found the dragon pendant under your shirt, some things were harder to let go than others.

But it shouldn’t be hard, right? Love shouldn’t present so many obstacles — it should be simple, easy — not difficult and tenuous. And that’s all your relationship had been — only due to circumstance, but sometimes that was enough.

And in your case, it had been too much.

But you knew you couldn’t have made it through without Yuta. Your eyes slide to him, his face illuminated only by the glow of the TV — lights turned off for the best movie night experience. Or at least not as quickly as you did. He was leaning back against the couch, his head leaning towards your side.

You bite your lip. Your mind wanders to what Panda had said — love birds — it hadn’t been the first time someone had commented on the two of you together. How many of your friends had made some comments about Yuta, even the ones in student government (Maki in particular had been dropping not so subtle hints)? How many of them had you brushed off without a second thought?

But now — ever so conscious of his weight beside you on the couch, of every twitch of his fingers, shift of his limbs — you had second thoughts.

You had tried your best to play off Panda’s comment, and Yuta did the same, the two of you had grown used to dancing around this topic. And before you hadn’t thought of Yuta that way in the slightest— not with everything going on — not with your mind still full of Suguru.

But now…His eyes softly lit by the bouncing lights of the movie, until they found yours, and somehow growing even softer, as his lips curled.

“Need something?” When was it that Yuta could make your heart flutter with only a smile? He was a friend — right? Just a friend, but now—

He leans over, your heart squeezing as he does — your eyes nearly fluttering shut, his hand brushing your cheek, only for the barest of touches. And your cheeks burned in the dim light of the TV.

“You had something on your cheek,” he explains, and you nod, biting your lip — as you snap your gaze away, and a small chuckle on his lips, “What is it?”

What was it about him now? His smile was just a smile, his eyes were just eyes, and his presence was only comfort. And now — his smile made your stomach bloom with butterflies, his eyes were depths you wished to swim in, and his presence gave you comfort but in the loneliest of ways — the gap between you both a cliff you stared down, unable to jump.

So you shake your head instead, “It’s nothing,” you smile as you press your knuckles to your lips.

Maybe your head was full of someone else for once.

~~~

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” You ask Yuta — a routine for most other weeknights, as you grabbed your bag, as you wait for him outside the conference room as the student government meeting ended for another week, “I heard this new restaurant opened up near my apartment, and we could hang out at my place after—“

“I—“

“Yuta?” A cute girl comes up to Yuta, and he smiles as he greets her, she pulls Yuta aside, as he chats with her just out of earshot, her hand grazing his shoulder.

And your stomach turns, a twinge in your heart as you watch the two — you don’t remember Yuta mentioning her, but then again, Yuta rarely talked about himself, even when you asked. It was like pulling teeth — and now here he was. Now, he was smiling at a girl you knew nothing about.

What was this feeling? You shifted from foot to foot, restlessness settling over your body as you purse your lips as if to prevent unnecessary words from spilling from your lips. Why did you feel so...helpless? Your arms crossed over your chest as if that would hold you together — keep your heart from falling back into the pieces you had meticulously put back together.

Oh.

You watched them talk, as the girl finally seemingly said her goodbye and flashed a small smile your way before disappearing down the hallway.

“Sorry,” Yuta walks back over, a smile on his lips, but you knew that smile wasn’t for you. Not like before, “yeah let’s grab dinner,”

And you weren’t the same either—

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you force your lips to curl, as you walk past him, “let’s go,”

—because you were jealous.

~~~

“Yuta, have you thought about dating?'' Your question comes seemingly out of nowhere one night, right after midterms, and Yuta has to stop himself from spitting out the sip of his tea he had taken, forcing himself to swallow. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your eyebrow raising, “you good?”

“Y-yeah sorry,” he clears his throat, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed red from that, “why do you ask?”

“I was just curious because we’ve talked a lot about my dating life, but nothing about yours,” it was late, or rather early—nearly 3 AM on a Saturday night, the two of you were half asleep on the couch, stuck in a stubborn battle of not wanting to sleep quite yet, “you don’t talk a lot about yourself,”

“There’s not much to say,” he shrugs, and your raised brow tells him you’re not satisfied with his reply, he relents with a sigh, “there was a girl I liked when I was a kid — Rika, we met when I was in the hospital,” and your lips twist into a frown, “I was sick a lot when I was little, and that’s when I met Rika. She lived with her grandparents — her parents both had passed when she was even younger. We were inseparable—“ he gives a soft chuckle, “but then she…” his voice wavers.

“You don’t have to—“ and he’s shaking his head.

“We were playing and she went into the street to cross when a car sped by—“ and he shakes his head, “she didn’t make it,” your fingers knit together, before one of your hands finds his.

“You didn’t have to share that if you weren’t ready,” and he’s offering a weak smile, squeezing your hand.

“I wanted to,” he sighs, as he rubs at his eye, “there’s not much I wouldn’t tell you,” and you supposed that was the difference between him and Suguru — communication that wasn’t limited, a conversation that wasn’t one sided, and honesty — without a price.

“So there’s been no one else since Rika?” you tilt your head, and you swear you see a twinge of red across his cheeks, dusting his features even in the dim light.

“Why are you asking?” he says slowly, it feels as if he’s caught you, as your gaze snaps away, a pout on your lips, as you press your knuckles to your lips — and it’s as if he got a hold of your thoughts, “is it because of Kirara earlier?”

“Oh, that’s her name?” Yuta has to bite back a small smile at your narrowed eyes, unable to meet his gaze, “how do you—”

“She’s a friend from high school — and she’s dating another old friend from high school,” he adds, and your eyes snap to his, “I don’t like her like that anyway — she’s just a good friend, and likes to give me unsolicited advice on my fashion sense,”

Your lips curl, “Well you are a little basic in your—” and he cuts you off with a look, and you’re shifting your body to face him fully, “so if it’s not Kirara, you don’t have anyone in mind? Not even a crush?”

Your question feels like an answer in and of itself — along with the look you’re giving him — the same one he had always given you, when you weren’t looking — longing. But what if he was wrong? What if he was projecting? But he could spend his whole time wondering, and never knowing — or he could take the leap.

He chews on his bottom lip, and he steels himself, his gaze turning back to you, “and if I said there was?”

Were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? Suguru still lingered in the back of your mind collecting cobwebs, on the tip of your tongue like a curse unspoken — and yet your forefront was filled with nothing but Yuta — his kindness, his honesty, his straightforward nature — all things you hadn’t gotten from Suguru when it mattered, when it counted. And it would be easy — there would be no complications — other than the complications that always came with relationships and emotions.

But that was far simpler than what you and Suguru had to deal with.

“Then I’d ask you,” your fingers reaching across a line that was meant to be crossed, but one that perhaps you shouldn’t anyway, “what are you waiting for?” and your hand finds his — his hand smaller than the one you’re used to, but warmer and softer.

“I don’t want to rush—” and you’re shaking your head, as your squeeze his hand, fingers laced together, as your thumb runs over his palm.

“We don’t have to,” you murmur, your gaze finding his, and he’s leaning closer to you, as if with a magnetic pull — and you find yourself attracted and not repelled to his pull, “we can take our time, can’t we?”

And his lips curl into a small smile, his dark eyes nearly consumed by the shadows underneath them, but somehow as soft as they always were — “Is this a dream?” he murmurs, whisper like, as if his words would ripple across the surface of reality until it disappeared within its depths, “I wanted to tell you for so long — but I didn’t know it if was too soon or if—”

“I know,” it had been three months, three months since you had your heart broken, but you were tired of wallowing, of trying to put your heart back together by yourself — you may have filled in the cracks, but maybe you needed someone to cement the parts back into one — and maybe Yuta was the one, “and maybe it is, but I want to try,” you admit, “is that wrong?”

And how could he say it was — when it was all he wanted?”

“No,” his fingertips brush against your cheek, “maybe it’s just right.”

~~~

He shifted in his sleep, a warm body pressed against him, his arms slinking around your own, your face buried in his neck in the best way he could imagine. Your fingers raked through his jet black locks, you pressed a sweet kiss to his neck, and a soft groan left his lips.

“Baby, finally awake?” your lips press a smile against his skin, your finger drawing a circle against his chest, “we have to get up soon, we’ll be late,” you murmur, “and I know how you feel about being late,” your nose brushes against his jumping pulse, “Sugu?”

Suguru groans softly, burying his face in your hair, “Five more minutes,” and you chuckle against him, his favorite sound that graces his ears, his eyes fluttering shut again, as he surrounds himself in your scent — the notes of lavender and rosemary from your shampoo, “just want to spend a few more minutes with you, sweetheart — I need you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hum, rubbing his head softly, fingers curling around one of the locks of his hair, “I don’t recall you gracing me with five minutes when I was late on that first day,”

He groans, shifting only to bury himself in your chest, pressing soft kisses to the valley between your breasts, nose pressed against the hollow of your throat, the cold metal of the dragon pendant against his cheek, “I wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he’s leaning back only to press a sweet kiss to your lips, again and again — it always felt so right being with you.

“But you’re not my boyfriend now,” and he pauses, before glancing up at you, your eyes glassy with tears, “remember?” your fingers ghosted over his cheek.

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes don’t bother to open as he reaches for his phone, turning off the ringer, before his hand reaches for you, only to find an empty space beside him. He flutters his eyes open, glancing over, and finds your absence beside him.

It had been months, but you still haunted him—and he would spend the rest of his life running from the ghost of what could have been—and pretending it doesn’t hurt.

He turns on his side to look away from your side of the bed — even though it still did.

~~~

You stared at the outfits laid out on the bed — practically your entire closet threw up your complete wardrobe, and even so, you couldn’t find a single thing you wanted to wear. Or rather—

You tossed another blouse onto the pile— you couldn’t find a single thing that didn’t remind you of Suguru. One of these he had said brought out your eyes, the other he had picked out for you, and the other he had taken you out on your one month anniversary for a surprise date.

There were too many memories — and too many that you didn’t care to relive. Especially today, as your phone goes off — I’ll be on my way over soon. Are you almost ready?

Fuck. Yuta was on his way almost and you hadn’t even finished picking an outfit.

By almost ready, do you mean not ready at all? You bite your lip, I know it’s silly but I can’t decide what to wear.

You dig two outfits out of the bottom of the pile — and stare at them — you didn’t like to wear new outfits on a first date, but maybe this would be a fresh start for you. One where you could leave behind some of the memories tied around your ankles like anchors, dragging you down the depths of waters you didn’t want to explore any longer.

Your phone goes off again — You’d look amazing in anything — I’ll be there soon.

Your lips curl at the sight of his text — you choose a dress, tugging your shirt over your head and your shorts down, before pulling the dress down. And you adjust your hair in the mirror, before looking closely at yourself — a glint catching your eyes.

Your fingers ghost over the dragon pendant — you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to take it off. But maybe it was time — and your hands reach around unclasping the chain before placing it in the palm of your hand.

Your fingertip traces over the rainbow colored gems — and he wondered if he even still thought of you like you thought of him. It was so easy for him to leave — so did he put you out of his mind while he was at it? You held the necklace over the trash bin next to your vanity — your fingers squeezing at the chain and pendant, as it dug into your skin — should you toss it away like he had with you?

No —you pulled your hand back — no, you couldn’t. You placed the necklace in the box it came in, tucking it away behind some things.

You heard your phone go off again, as you spared one last glance at the vanity, where the box was hidden away—

Because it still meant something to you. Even if it didn’t to him.

~~~

“You complain about my movies, but the one you chose was much worse,” you say as you unlock your apartment, “that plot line made little to no sense,”

“If you suspend your disbelief—“

You stop, your key hanging from your door, as you stare at him, “I can believe that supernatural powers exist in that universe, but why would the universe entrust these powers to the stupidest people alive?” He snorts, as you continue unlocking the door, as you spare a glance at Yuta who is still fidgeting near your doorway, “you gonna come in?”

“I-well, I thought since this our first date, maybe I shouldn’t since you wouldn’t do that one a first date,” and you blink, your lips curling, as you watch him trip over his words, cheeks tinged pink, “not that anything would happen if I did come in—but—“

You step closer, silencing his words, seemingly stuck in his throat, “You really thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” and your fingers brush his, slowly intertwining with his as you bridge the gap, “I really appreciate it,”

He bites his lip, eyes sliding sideways, as he does, before he’s tilting his head again, “I just don’t want you rush into anything, and I don’t want us to still feel like—”

“Just friends I know,” you smile, “well then why don’t we leave it here for tonight, but call me when you get home?” He slowly nods, but he still isn’t leaving, “Yuta?”

And he steps a little closer, your breath catches, stuck in your lungs, as your chest squeezes when his fingers find your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” And your answer comes before you know it as you nod wordlessly.

His lips curl into a smile, as he leans closer and your noses bump, a small chuckle escaping your lips before his lips find yours.

It’s chaste, at first, until his lips find yours in a firmer kiss. He tastes faintly of the salt and butter of the popcorn he just had, and you can feel him smile against your lips, before you both part.

Your lips curl, “Well that is definitely something I never do with a friend,”

“You sure?” He murmurs and you hum, as your foreheads press against the other’s, as your fingers intertwine and you tug him inside your apartment.

“Maybe just the ones I really like.”

~~~

“You look happy,” Maki notes, as Yuta shows up early to work on a project for student government — it had been a few days since their first date, and Yuta had just gotten a text from you asking if he was coming over tonight. His lips quirked upwards as he told you he’d be there after he finished his work, as his eyes flitted up to find Maki’s, “don’t tell me you actually got the balls to ask her—“ and his eyes won’t quite meet her own, a smile on his lips, “fuck, don’t tell me—”

“We had our third date last night—” and he earns himself a hard punch to his shoulder, as he jolts, staring at Maki, “ow! Why—”

“Three dates and you tell me now?” and Yuta’s rubbing his shoulder, as he frowns, “what’s with the face? My punch didn’t hurt that bad,” she takes a seat, and leans back in her chair, as she rifles through the paperwork,

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if I should be going around telling people — it’s new—”

“Wouldn’t you be happy to talk about your relationship?” And he’s hesitating, and Maki’s chair legs clack against the floor as she leans forward again, “what are you so scared of still?”

What was it that he was scared of? That it wouldn’t work out? That he’d lose you before he had even truly had you? That he’d hurt you? And it was true, he was scared of all of those things, but it wasn’t those things holding him back—

“I saw the way she talked about her ex, the smile she had when she would come off talking about him,” he leans against his hand, elbow propped up on the table, “she always had this smile on her face — just this look that I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have with me—“

“A look doesn’t make or break a relationship, Okkotsu,” Maki says with a sigh, “and she was already in that relationship for who knows how long at that point?”

“I know, but—“

“I can’t tell you how to run your relationship but you have to decide whether you’re in this or not — because if you keep comparing yourself, you’ll never be happy,” and Yuta nods, before glancing at her, “what?”

“How do you know so much about this?” Maki crosses her arms, a slight blush on her cheeks.

“You’re not the only one with a social life—“ but she cuts him off before he can ask more questions, “but this is about you, not me,” she leans forward, “you need to focus on your relationship now, not her old one,”

And he nods — he needed to trust you, otherwise this would never work with his head stuck in the past or looking into the future. Otherwise, this insecurity would seep like poison into his present — and he would lose you anyway.

“You’re right, thanks Maki,” and his phone goes off again, another text from you — I miss you — come soon.

Maybe he just needed to trust you — and himself. But even so, as he typed his reply to you — I’ll pick up dinner on the way. I’ll be back soon. Promise — but why was it so difficult?

~~~

“Ah, Yu,” you murmured against his lips before swallowing your words completely, you were even prettier breathless than he had imagined. Well, more like than he had dreamt. He had resisted the urge to fantasize about you, thinking it would be disrespectful, crossing a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed. But that didn’t mean he could control his subconscious when he would slip into the embrace of sleep.

He’d see you beside him on the couch, and you’d lean over and simply find his lips as if you’d done it a million times before. And he’d melt into your touch with such practiced ease, his fingers skimming over your sides, and he was desperate for more, more, more. He would only slide his hands up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the fabric of your panties before he’d wake in sweat soaked sheets and his cock straining against his boxers.

This was so much better.

It had started on the couch just like his dream, the two of you lying together, cuddling on the couch as the two of you half watched a movie.

“Are you sleepy?” He asked softly, tucking a strand behind your ear, and you shake your head, as you shift closer to him, half of your body pressed against him. He did his best not to shift much, as you move even closer to him, nearly lying on top of him, “what—“

His breath catches as you lean closer, “can I—“ and he’s nodded without a second thought, as your lips found his, and his fingers found your hips. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips before slipping inside, and he eagerly steals your breath from your very lungs. And you’re moving, now lying squarely on top of him, your hips pressed against his, as his already hard cock throbs against your cunt.

He bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you already are, soaking through your shorts and drenching his sweatpants, “Fuck,” he murmurs, as your lips both part for a breath, as he cups your chin, only to press hot kisses to your burning skin, “baby, you taste so good,”

And that’s where he found himself now.

Your tiny gasps and murmurs of his name, as his lips explored what skin he could reach, while his hands slid up and down your body, now warm palms resting above your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Yuta, please,” the whine in your throat makes the heat grow thicker been you two, the movie fading into but white noise, as he cards his fingers through your hair, “don’t tease me,”

And he’s swallowing thickly, his dick twitching at the thought of taking this further — the two of you had done everything but this step, your hands had grazed under the other’s clothes, grinded against each other as you made out, but one of you would end up stopping it for one reason or another. It was a game of chicken, one or the other seemingly daring the other to take that step — but neither of you had.

But now — as his thumb dragged over your puffy, kiss ruined lips, “Do you want to?” he asks an unspoken question, his resistance weakening to your touches, your fingers ghosting up his chest before one of your hands finds his cheek.

“I do,” you answer, but bite your lip, “I’m just…a little nervous,” and his lips press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“We can always wait — I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, baby,” he’s featherlight in his touches now, “it’s up to you,” and it was — he would wait for you, as long as you wanted him.

You smile at him, finding his lips in another kiss — he didn’t know it was possible for someone to be this soft, or feel this good — he could taste the sweetness of ice cream you had ate earlier on your lips, but you were so much better than any dessert.

Your fingers rake gently through his hair, “Let’s move to the bedroom?”

~~~

You wanted Yuta — you did. You had for the weeks the two of you had dated. It had been almost two months, and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. There wasn’t a reason to rush, but there wasn’t a reason not to. The line had been edged to the brink of insanity — for the both of you. There was always seemingly a reason to stop — an early class, a late night, stomach upset — and it always felt like timing was just off. But it wasn’t always just the timing.

It was also you.

Every time you and Yuta got close, each time you felt even an ounce of pleasure, the guilt of Suguru would claw up your throat, again and again. And you were sure Yuta had noticed. But even if he had, you didn’t know a way to explain without making him think you were still in love with Suguru — which you weren’t.

You didn’t think you were. The guilt lingered, like blood dried from a still open wound, scabbed over but not healed, easily reopened with even a scratch or a step. And it felt like with each step you took away from Suguru, you bled more and more — but you didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t stem the bleeding at its source, not when the person you had cut it open didn’t even give you a chance to speak.

And you couldn’t talk to Yuta about it — not when you still hadn’t explained who Suguru is — and what exactly he does for work. Or much of anything else and you didn’t even know how to begin that conversation or why it would be necessary. Does he need to know all of that when you would be graduating soon enough and Suguru would be only a distant memory.

But you hoped Yuta wouldn’t be.

Your fingers laced with his as you led him to your bedroom — as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind you. You gently guide him onto your bed and have him sit while you stand, your fingers cupping his face, as his breath hitches at your proximity. His lips parted ever so slightly, as a pretty pink settled over his cheeks.

“Baby, are you sure?” His lips are half twisting in a frown, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I don’t want—“

And your lips find his in a soft kiss, pressing yourself between his legs, as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, “I want you, Yuta,” you murmur, you were tired of letting the past dictate your present — you wanted to move forward, “don’t you want me too?” And your lips ghost over his jaw up to his ear, as you whisper in it, while leaving kisses that make his body shiver, wondering if you’ve turned his blood to ice or made it turn to steam with how his skin burned.

“You’re not playing fair” he mumbles, as he buries your face in the crook of your neck, and you laugh, your fingers skimming the back of his neck.

“I’m here to win, we never said anything about fair,” you twirl the black locks resting against his neck, your lips press another kiss to his cheekbone, “you still haven’t answered my question—“

“Of course I want you,” he looks up at you, his need like a spark catching fire on your body, “I always have,”

“Well I’m right here,” you murmur, you tilt his chin up, fingers threaded in his black locks, “what are you going to do about it?”

~~~

Yuta was going to lose his mind — but it’s just as well, you already had his heart.

At your words, he’s tugging you even closer as he moves back on the bed, gaze hot as he watches you move, sitting on his lap — knees on either side of his waist. Fuck, you felt so good against him, plush thighs pressing into his hands already sliding down your lower back and grazing your ass to press you impossibly closer.

“Good boy,” you murmur, and his blood flees his cheeks to his cock, twitching against your clothed cunt, and you smirk, a giggle escaping your lips, “you like that, huh?” you breath against his ear, “my good boy,”

And in an instant, you’re pinned under him, and you’re blinking up at him, smile exchanged for parted lips, as his hands slide up your sides, and he’s leaning down to kiss you. His mouth burns against yours, tongue teasing the seam of your lips, before they part for him.

“Now who’s being good for who?” he murmurs, as he pulls back with your teeth catching his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans, grinding against you, the length of his cock grinding against your clothed slit, “you won't let me have a moment, can you?” He murmurs, a red flush on his cheeks that makes you grin.

“Not as long as you’re with me, Yu,” and god, that nickname for him makes his head spin— it’s already so much — the picture of you spread so prettily for him, your thighs parted under him, shirt riding up, just asking for him to slide underneath, and your bodies pressed together in all of the right places, as if neither of you could get close enough.

And apparently you couldn’t, as you guide his hands to the hem of your shirt, and you’re helping him pull it over your head before tossing it onto the floor. And he sees nothing underneath, your nipples pebbled and hard under his gaze, so pretty for him.

When his fingers twitch, you chuckle, “touch me,” and your words melt away his reservations, as his hands find your breasts, warm palms squeezing and teasing the soft flesh. He leans down and presses a kiss to one of your pert nipples, his tongue flicking the pert bud, drawing a small gasp from your lips, a pretty noise he wants to make fall from your lips again and again. Your head falls back into your pillow, as he switches sides, teasing the one with his lips, while he rolls the other between his index and thumb.

“Fuck, Yuta,” he smiles against you, as his lips begin to kiss down your body, starting with the valley of your breasts before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. And his eyes are flicking up to meet yours to ask silently, and your nod is all it takes for his fingers to dip in and tug the thin fabric down your legs, fingers dragging along the dips and curves of your legs as he does. He bends down to steal kisses to your swell of your hips and the crown of your knee.

“S’pretty,” he’s mumbling, as his eyes find the wet patch on your underwear, fabric messy and soaked through as it cling helplessly to your hard clit, “how are you this pretty, baby?”

“All for you, sweet boy,” you’re murmuring, as you hiss when he’s teasing your clit through your panties, “Yu, fuck—“ he could cum just listening to you — he doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s inside you—

But one step at a time.

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to it, before he’s slipping two fingers into the elastic to tug it down, with a nod from you. He’s pressing kisses and nips to your inner thigh, relishing in the marks he leaves on you — ones that he and you would only see. And finally you’ve kicked your underwear off, fully bare for him.

“How do you smell so sweet?” he’s whispering, as his eyes drag over your exposed folds, and a whimper escapes your lips, he can’t wait to make you moan. And he’s bending down to drag his tongue over your dripping cunt, a thick stripe that has you gasping, fingers winding their way into his black locks, nails digging deliciously into his scalp.

And you taste even better than he imagined — so good that he's already lapping at your folds, tip of his tongue flicking over your clit — and he hears the wrinkle of the sheets as your toes curl into them. He’s rutting into your mattress, ready to cum in his boxers at how good your pussy feels — dick nearly bursting at the thought of having your cunt around him.

“Fuck, baby,” you’re swearing under your breath, as your body tenses under his tongue, he begins to slurp at your juices. His hands find their way under the soft flesh of your thighs to tug you flush to his lips, “Yu, so good,” and all he can hear are the lewd sounds of his tongue buried in your pussy, working your walls open, pretty walls fluttering around him, “feel so good, ngh, ah—” your eyes find his, and it’s enough for him to blow his load then and there — eyes blown out with lust as they meet his own, your lips parted in lovely pants and moans.

And he knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls shudder, and he’s burying himself in your cunt, fucking you open with his tongue while he rubs your clit in quick circles.

“Yu, I’m cum—“ and you cut yourself off with a moan, back arching as you cum hard, his name on your lips, and he’s eating you out through your orgasm, greedily drinking every bit of release you give him. And it’s only when it’s too much, your body slightly shaking, as you gently pull at his hair, that he eases off.

You watch him with half lidded eyes as he pulls away, still between your thighs — lips and chin glossy and drenched in your release. He licks his lips and chin clean, watching you come down from your high, fuck, the way your walls clench around nothing makes him want to bury his face back in your folds.

“So good, Yu, s’good for me,” you’re panting, sweat slicked against your skin, as you’re gently tugging at him, and he obliges, keening at the praise as he slips up your body until your lips find his. You moan, tasting yourself on his lips, a sloppy, messy kiss that leaves him breathless.

And you’re flipping you both over, his eyes dilating at the sight of you, eyes raking over his body, eager hands thumbing at the hem of his shirt.

Your lips in a smirk that leaves his dick throbbing, “my turn, Yu, let me make you feel good,”your hands make quick work of his shirt, tugging it up and over, tossing it in the growing pile of clothes in the corner of your bedroom.

Your lips press sweet kisses all over his chest, fingers teasing his chest, but you have bigger intentions in mind, as your fingers quickly find their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. And with a nod given, you’re deftly tugging it down with a raise of his hips to pull the fabric off and kicked away, leaving him only in his boxers.

You bite your lip when you see the large wet patch from his pre, your fingers teasing his slit through the fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips. He swallows, watching your pretty lips bend down to press a kiss to his cock through the fabric. And it’s enough for him to lose his mind completely, “please,” he whimpers, and you smile down at him, dragging your thumb down his lips.

“Please what?” you ask innocently, for someone whose fingers were grazing his erection the way they were, he swallows as he watches your finger trace up and down his clothes cock, “what do you want me to use? My hand? My mouth?”

And he’s shaking his head, “Anything, just please I need—“ and your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, snapping it against his skin, a yelp escaping his lips that makes you giggle, “that’s not nice—“ and he’s gasping when your lips press a hot kiss to his hip, your eyes lidded with desire.

“Who said I was nice?”

~~~

You were going to be the death of him, and with the way your fingers tug down his boxers — finally freeing his cock, slapping against his stomach as it does — it would be a sweet death.

“Didn’t know your cock was so pretty like the rest of you, Yu,” and it was, so long and thick, pearly precum dripping down his flushed length, veins that ran up and down the length that you were far too eager to trace, “can’t wait to taste you,” you’re murmuring, as your tongue flicks down against his slit.

“B-baby, please,” his hand is covering his face, but you reach up to pry it away, seeing the lovely red that settled over his cheeks, lips parted in need as he painted, “please—“

And your fingers wrap around his dick, thumbing the slit and working the precum up and down his length. And he’s moaning your name on his lips again and again, as you kiss his tip sliding your fingers down to his base and squeezing. And when your lips part for him, sliding his length in your mouth, his head falls back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as he can’t help but roll his hips into your mouth. And when his tip brushes the back of your throat, it’s enough for him to cum right then and there, but he doesn’t want to — not yet, not until he’s inside you.

He’s easing you off, watching strings of pre and your spit connect you to his aching cock, as you look up at him, and he’s pulling you into a messy kiss, tasting his own pre on your lips.

“I need you,” he’s murmuring, fingers finding your hips, “baby, please,”

You smile, parting from him, “how do you need me?” And he’s swallowing, cock twitching, and he knows he’s one stroke too fast from bursting — so he needs control.

“Lie on the bed, baby,” and you do, easing from between his legs, and onto your back, head against the plush pillows. He parts your legs for you, warm palms squeezing your flesh teasingly, drawing a whine from you, he presses your thighs up, letting them hook around his back, as his skin meets yours. And god, you’re perfect, “how did I get so lucky? You’re so perfect, so pretty,” and he’s slotting himself between your thighs, fingers lining up his cock with your dripping slit, his curiosity getting the better of him as he drags the head up your messy folds still slick with your release, and groans as he watches your walls flutter around nothing, “so good for me, are you ready, baby?”

You’re nodding, “please Yu, I need—” and his tip is sliding into you, his length stretching your walls far too well, and it’s enough for him to cum right there — as your cunt adjusts to his size, dragging against you as he pushes past your entrance. It’s enough for him to cum right there, but he wants it to be good for you both — wants you to hear you praise him again, wants to hear you say his name again and again until you fall apart on his cock.

And finally he’s bottoming out, a moan from both of your lips, your walls fluttered around his length, your head lolls back a moment, before your eyes flutter open and meet his, “S’good, Yu, please, move,” and he’s cupping your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, before he begins to fuck you slowly.

The echoes of your skin meeting his rings in hie ears, needy walls pulling you back in even as he tried to pull out, sinking deeper and deeper each time he fucked you.

He’s burning, ready to melt at your very touch, putty in your hands to bend and shape at your will, even as you swallow him whole, he’s ready for you to consume every inch of him with your being.

“Feels s’good, Yuta,” you’re moaning, legs around his hips pulling him impossibly closer, “such a good boy,” and his cock twitches, your mixed releases forming a ring around the base of his length, “s’good, need more,”

And he’s groaning, as your wet squelches fill the silence between both of your moans and pants — and you’re close, as he gives a particularly deep thrust that finds the spot that has you seeing stars. Your head falls back, lips parted in his name, “Yu, I’m close — ngh, please—“ and he’s smiling, his cheeks surely flushed blood red, panting, as he reaches between your bodies to find your clit.

“Cum f’me, baby,” he’s murmuring, and you’re nodding, as you fall apart for him, toes curling as you cum hard around him, making him groan your name as he spills his warm seed inside you, pumping slowly as he does. His body slows as you both come down from your highs, and he slowly rolls off of you, running fingers through your hair and pressing sweet kisses, “are you okay?” he murmurs, eyes soft with affection, but laced with concern.

You smile, “I’m more than okay,” you press your face into his chest, and he’s shivering at your touch, pulling you even closer, “I’m with you,” and his fingers run up and down your cheek, before leaning down to meet your lips in a soft kiss.

That’s right, he smiles as he kisses your forehead — he was with you. And the past didn’t matter — when he was in your present.

“I’ll always be with you,” he mutters against your lips.

And hopefully in your future.

~~~

“What are you doing, I thought you were almost done,” Yuta mumbles against the soft skin of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that did nothing but sap the need for productivity from your very veins — leaving only behind thoughts of his touch behind, “baby,”

“Yu, I promise I’m almost done, I just have to send this email about my thesis and you’ll have my undivided attention,” you both had been stuck in the end of the semester rush, trying to find time for each other — leaving you stressed out and Yuta a little needy. That’s what this night was supposed to be for — a chance to reconnect, and yet here you were working. But you had to send this thesis out or you knew Yaga would have your head for delaying your work on your outline for so long — something you would be spending next semester fleshing out into a full thesis you’d be presenting.

He nods, but continues to pepper you with kisses, your skin nearly molten under his touch as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you further into his lap instead of beside him on the couch, “After all the work I did to snag Professor Yaga as my thesis advisor, I cannot let the department head down with my draft,”

He hums, vibrations making you nearly shiver, “I know, I’m really proud of you. I know you’re going to have something really special by the end of the year,” and you shake your head.

“I just hope I make it past the defense — it’s the most nerve wracking part,” you sigh, “a room of my peers and professors staring me down while I discuss the work I’ve done,” you proof read the email for the millionth time — scanning for any errors and make sure the attachment is the correct attachment — and finally click send, and sigh before relaxing into his arms.

“Can I come to your defense?” Yuta asks, perking up, and you smile, leaning back against him.

“Are you sure you’d want to come? It’s going to be just me rambling about my thesis and answering a bunch of questions,” you kiss his jaw softly, nosing the small hickey you left blooming on his pale skin last night, “might not be the most exciting thing,”

“I want to support you, as long as you want me there,” and you can’t help but wonder — would Suguru show up to your defense? The thought makes your stomach churn at the thought of them watching you present, eyes flitting from one to the other. You had doubts he would show himself there — but the only catch was if Yaga would twist his arm. And then what? You had nearly blown your relationship wide open once before when you had ran into Suguru in front of Yuta—

You couldn’t risk it again.

“Let me think about it, ok?” You nuzzle your nose against his cheek, as he frowns, “I just think if I have you there, I might get too nervous—“

He shakes his head, “Whatever makes you comfortable, either way, we’re going to celebrate right after,” and you tilt your head.

“What if I don’t pass?” And he shakes his head.

“If hell freezes over, I think we’ll have bigger problems,” and you snort, “but on the very off chance you don’t, you still accomplished something incredible—“ and your lips find his, and he melts into your kiss after a moment.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I’m so lucky to have you,” and he curls his lips into a sweet smile.

“I’m the lucky one,” and his lips press against yours this time, meeting yours again and again, until you’re placing your laptop aside, and turning to sit in his lap, “baby,” heat rolls off his body in waves, as your fingers trace down his chest.

“I heard someone wanted my undivided attention tonight,” you smile, before taking your phone and placing it on ‘do not disturb,’ “well now what are you going to do with it?”

He smiles, “Don’t know if we’ll have enough time for everything, but,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “we can try,” and the two of you are making your way to the bedroom soon enough, unaware that you had gotten an important email that night—

From: Suguru Geto

Subject Line: Regarding Your Thesis Advisor

~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re adjusting your hair as you sprint your way to Professor Yaga’s office. This is what you get for staying up far too late with your far too tempting boyfriend. And now you woke up thirty minutes before the meeting, with barely enough time to make it on time, much less breath. Yuta gave you a kiss goodbye, but that’s all he had time for — before you were out the door.

But you finally reached Yaga’s door, catching your breath when you took a second to regain your composure before knocking. You blinked — weird, his door was usually open. And the door opens, but it isn’t Yaga—

It’s Suguru?

It’s Suguru.

You stare at him, wondering if this is another twisted nightmare you had ensnared yourself in, but no — it isn’t. Because even your subconscious couldn’t make a scenario this twisted. His lips parted to say something, but you beat him to it.

“If you’re meeting with Professor Yaga, I can come back at a different time, Professor,” the title slips from your lips without barely a thought, but it carries far too much weight. A flicker of emotion catches on the corner of his lips and in the glint of his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“You’re on time, but I still you did not have the time to check your email before this meeting,” he tilts his head, as you blink slowly, “please come in and have a seat,”

And you do, taking a seat across from him as he sits on the other side of the desk, you shift in your seat, as you take him in for the first time in months — his hair was still long, black tresses brushing against his shoulders, hair half up in a neat bun near the crown of his head; his eyes tucked behind his glasses for once, but you could see the burgeoning beginnings of dark bags under his eyes; and his clothes were meticulous as always — and you spot the tie pin he has — it’s the one you had gifted him near the beginning of your relationship — a joke that you had made about pinning him down in class turned into a gift.

And that makes your neck feel all the more bare.

“Is Professor Yaga ok?” and Suguru sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“He’s fine, he is sick at the moment — and receiving treatment,” you sigh in slight relief, “so he’s decided to take the rest of this semester off, as well as next semester,” and you sigh, leaning back as you cover your lips with your hand.

“Is he going to be—”

“He has a good prognosis, and his son’s with him, looking after him, so it should be fine,” he says softly, and his lips curl in a small smile, as he flips through the papers on Yaga’s desk.

“What’s with the smile?” and he shakes his head, as he rifles through the stacks of paperwork, until he seemingly finds what he’s looking for.

“Nothing, just noticing that your habit of worrying about others before yourself hasn’t changed,” and you glare slightly at him, pursing your lips, as he slides a stapled stack of papers to you.

“And what’s this—”

“Your thesis proposal,” and you take it, flipping through and grimacing at the red pen, “and my thoughts on it,” you scoff, as you see the familiar picture of his scribbles and notes in the margins of your work.

“It looks like old habits die hard for the both of us,” as you finish flipping through, but your brow knits together as the pieces of news start to fit together like a puzzle — with a very mortifying picture, and your eyes meet his, slowly — the news going as well over as a lead balloon, and crashing down on your head like one, “so does this mean—”

His lips curl in a small smile, “I’ll be taking over as your thesis advisor — for the rest of the year.”

✧ a/n: it was supposed to be the last part and now! we have. one more part since i decided i wanted to flesh out the final arc a little more! one more part of this and it will be all done...:)

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot , @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri i , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries

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wonwoostoilet · 2 months

Text

don't you know

Pairings: Echo x afab!Jedi Reader

Words: 11,920 (it was meant to be shorter but as always, my hands slipped)

Warnings: Mutual Pining. Echo being extremly nervous and flustered around you. The classic "we need to kiss to avoid being seen" trope. Heated Make-Out Session(s). Love confessions. Some low self-esteem thoughts from Echo's perspective. Reader worshiping Echo. Biting. Slight Dirty Talk. Fingering. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Creampie. Echo is less nervous by the end.

Prompt: "It reminded me of you."

Summary: Echo is well aware that he should break the kiss to see if the guards are still around, but he can’t get enough of you, and the sweet taste of your lips as you meet his devotion with similar passion. He shifts you in his arms until his thigh is planted perfectly against your heated core, and without thinking much of what he’s doing, he moves his cybernetic arm down your back, pushing you against him until you feel the pressure of his hard thigh in between your legs. You break the kiss and throw your head back, whimpering his name repeatedly until he silences you with a hard bite to your jugular.

A/N: @imarvelatthestars, sweetheart...surprise!!! Here you go, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time writing for Echo so I pray I did him justice. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. P.S. this is my second submission for the @cloneficgiftexchange and I do apologize for posting it late. I was very reluctant since he is a character I never thought I'd write for. Only one more to go though :D

As much as he hated to admit it, Echo was glad he was the one who came on the mission with you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brothers with your life, far from it. It was merely anxiety-inducing to think of you and one of the Batch members in the current predicament. Then again, if it weren’t for the pitstop he took, a rather unnecessary one now that he thought about it, neither of you would have been running for your lives from the guards stationed near the market. He meant well, he really did, but looking back now, Echo knew that he was the reason your life is now in danger.

And he didn’t like that one bit.

He glances behind him briefly before looking ahead, seething with anger when he notices you slowing down to his pace.

“Not to make light of our current problem, but I really do want to taste those weird looking fruits we saw back there when-”

“Not now!” Echo snaps harshly at you, ignoring the adorable pout you give him as he speeds ahead and turns into a much narrower alley. He knows he’s unjustly taking out his anger on you rather than owning up to his mistake, but he can’t even look at you for longer than a few seconds without his mind thinking of more intimate circumstances where you’re breathing heavily and groaning his name. He shakes his head to rid his mind of the consistent and rather irritating inappropriate thoughts of you, forcing his focus on the winding streets in front of him as he tries his best to lead you away from danger.

When you reach the end of the alley, you find yourselves looking out into an awfully busy street, with many of the locals congregating around the entrance of a brightly-lit building. Echo scans the area, trying to figure out what the best plan is before the guards grow closer. He knows you won’t be able to get into any of the nearby places with how the two of you look, and he also knows you can’t go back where you came from. He turns to you and sees you looking behind you in preparation for the guards following you, and before he can think twice of what he’s doing, he grabs your hand and runs towards the busy establishment, murmuring apologies to anyone he bumps into as he makes it to the end of the line and hides behind a larger group.

He slams you more aggressively than he intends against the wall, completely shielding your body with his own so you wouldn’t get hurt should you be spotted. Echo looks down once and finds you staring into his eyes with quivering lips, and for a split second, he thinks you peer at his chapped lips before returning your gaze to his eyes.

No, it can’t be.

He turns away instantly, afraid of what he might do if you continue to look at him with such dangerous inclinations in your eyes. His mind is running a million miles a minute, and he doesn’t realize how hard his grip is on your waist until you shift beneath him and bring your hood up. So busy trying to figure out how he can extract the two of you from this situation, he doesn’t register the sudden fall of rain until the patrons around you laugh and scream as they try to cover themselves from the harsh weather.

He blinks rapidly to get rid of the water collecting around his eyelashes, lightly banging his scomp on the wall beside you when he sees the guards filtering from the alley and surrounding the area.

“Hunter, we’re surrounded. Where are you?” Echo hisses through his commlink, turning away from the guards so he isn’t recognized. He thanks the maker that the group beside him didn’t bother moving away, the cover they were giving the two of you the only reason why you haven’t been shot at yet.

“Trying to come to you without drawing too much attention.” You hear Hunter give orders to Tech before he goes silent again, and when you try to look past Echo to see the guards, he moves with you and shields you from the open space.

“Echo,” you try to warn him, but he shakes his head and pushes you further into the wall. This close, you can almost feel the beat of his heart, but you find that you don’t really need to feel it to know how nervous he is. You aren’t sure if he’s nervous for your safety, or from being so close to you, but you find it endearing regardless. It surprised you a little to see him so protective of you, seeing as he rarely ever spoke more than a few words to you at a time, and constantly went out of his way to avoid being in your vicinity for longer than necessary.

“Quiet.” Again, Echo snaps at you, not wanting to be distracted by the sweet sound of your voice as you call his name or the heat radiating off of you as you slowly bring your arms around his waist.

“There’s no way out…is there?” The soft question fills the small space between the two of you, and Echo is no longer strong enough to ignore how perfect you fit in his arms. He shifts his gaze to your eyes, and furrows his brows at you, slowly grazing his scomp across your cheek until he feels you nuzzle into the cold, hard end of the link. His breath hitches all of a sudden, unbelieving of how easily you sought out the steel material for safety. He can’t help but study you closely, finding himself feeling jealous of the water droplets adorning your skin. Unlike him, they were touching you so intimately, rolling down your cheeks and neck until they disappeared beneath the edge of your shirt. Echo is shivering, but he knows it has nothing to do with how soaked he is from the cold rain, and everything to do with the familiarity you were offering him in such a pivotal moment.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, mesh’la.” Echo knows better than to offer you such a promise. You are an exceptional Jedi, one that he’s seen accomplish much in the past few months. It was quite pathetic to think that he could ever be better than you or that you needed him to keep you safe, but something about the way you smile at him, and how you wrap your arms around his waist to bring him closer, makes him say those words. He hopes you can see how genuine he is, and just as he’s about to apologize for putting you in this situation, he hears the guards move closer to the two of you.

Turning his attention to the several, heavily armed men walking towards the busy line, Echo looks around to try and find a solution, only for his eyes to land on a couple making out not too far from you in line. He narrows his eyes at them before looking down at you, finding your gaze as unwavering as ever, and staring at him as if your life depends on it.

“Kriff, I have an idea but-” He begins to say but you cut him off immediately, and Echo isn’t sure if he’s thankful or irritated that you didn’t give him a chance to finish his thought.

“I don’t care.”

“Do you trust me?” He doesn’t even know how he can put his plan into words before he carries it out, but as he grows closer to you, he understands that there’s no time to explain anything. So instead, he waits for your response and prays to the maker that you don’t leave him if his idea works and the two of you survive. He doesn’t want to lose you, ever, and the thought of how you could potentially react when he finally closes the space between the two of you makes his heart skip a beat.

“With my li-” As soon as you give him your consent, Echo wets his lips and crashes his chest into your own, pushing the hood back down your neck until he has complete access to your hair. He lets go of your waist and grabs the hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing it tightly to tilt your head to the side so he can deepen the kiss and block you from the guards’ line of sight.

He hears you gasp into the touch as soon as you feel his lips on your own, and even though he wants to open his eyes to see your reaction, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to withstand your facial expression if it conveys an ounce of disgust. Echo doesn’t have to think too much on it though, because he feels you relax in his embrace, nearly toppling over into him from how hard you clutch his side and try to pull him close into you. He groans into your mouth, and his muscles shudder with need when he feels you slip your tongue past his lips and seek him.

Echo is well aware that he should break the kiss to see if the guards are still around, but he can’t get enough of you, and the sweet taste of your lips as you meet his devotion with similar passion. He shifts you in his arms until his thigh is planted perfectly against your heated core, and without thinking much of what he’s doing, he moves his cybernetic arm down your back, pushing you against him until you feel the pressure of his hard thigh in between your legs. You break the kiss and throw your head back, whimpering his name repeatedly until he silences you with a hard bite to your jugular.

The world seems to fade away then, leaving the two of you completely lost in each other. You bite into your lip to quiet down, roaming your hand up and down Echo’s side while the other reaches for his neck to bring him closer to you. He obliges instantly, sucking and kissing along your neck until he can taste the natural scent of your skin on his tongue mixing with the droplets of rain glistening across your heated flesh. Although he wants to push you away so you don’t feel the dents and wires running from his skull down to his spine, he can’t find it in himself to stop, not when he finally had you so willing and submissive in his arms. Echo wants more, more of your sounds, more of your little hiccups, more of your voice as it whispered and moaned his name while he pleasured you.

But the moment ends abruptly when the group Echo hid behind begins to laugh and holler in an attempt to get the two of you to escalate your touches. When one of them tells Echo to save it for the club you’re both presumably in line for, he detaches from you and stares you down, watching you closely to see if you were uncomfortable by what just happened. He gets lost momentarily when he sees your eyes glazed over and shut, lips bruised from how harsh the kiss was and hands shivering violently as you fisted your fingers in his clothes. He gulps nervously and lets go of you, but he doesn’t dare move too far away, wanting to still cover you with his body should things take a turn for the worse.

Against every ounce of his being, Echo looks away from you and glances to the side, widening his eyes in shock when he finds no guards in the vicinity. He scans the entire street, and when he’s sure you’re no longer in any danger, he gulps nervously and turns back to you. If it weren’t for the rain coming down hard on the two of you and momentarily distracting him from your expression, Echo would have sworn you were gazing at him with lust-filled eyes.

“They’re gone.” He breaks the silence, and slowly lets go of you, not bothering to apologize for the way he touched you as he steps away and removes his thigh from between your legs. You lose your balance for a moment but right yourself quickly and reluctantly let go of him.

“Oh.” He hates the way you’re avoiding his eyes now, and he hopes it isn’t because you were offended by him. He studies you closely, looking at every twitch in your features and every small muscle movement to try and figure out why you were shrinking in front of him and stepping back into the wall.

Maker.

He fucked up.

“Let’s go before they circle back,” there’s nothing else he can say to break the awkward silence that has fallen over the two of you. Echo clenches his jaw tightly, fisting his hand several times before heading back to the narrow alleys.

“O-okay.” He hears you whisper not a moment later but ignores the disappointed tone of your voice, wanting to get to safety as quickly as possible before things escalate once more.

“Echo, come in.” Hunter comms soon after, and Echo waits until you’re right behind him before he responds to the rest of the group.

“Here. We’re at the rendezvous point. Where are you?” He asks while looking around for any potential danger, refusing to look towards you for the sake of not being distracted again.

“You’re not going to like this but, we can’t come to you. At least not now.”

“What do you mean not now?” He doesn’t mean to hiss at his brother, but he does anyway, ignoring the puzzled expression he knew you were most likely giving him. He’s never once spoken to Hunter in such a way, and he didn’t want to make a habit of it, but all Echo can think of is your safety, and the longer the two of you stayed out, the more likely it was for you to get hurt.

“He means, the statistical likelihood that we will not be spotted by the royal guards is awfully low. If we were to come now, we would be putting the two of you in more danger.” Tech cuts in, making Wrecker mumble something or other about statistical likelihoods never being in their favor.

“Karking hells,” Echo swears, shaking his head in irritation as understanding washes over him. Had it not been for the chat he held with that lady in the market, you would have already been on the Marauder heading out.

“I suggest you find a place to lay low. Once we figure something out, we’ll let you know.” Hunter responds a while later, and Echo takes a few deep breaths to calm himself and clear his mind of any unnecessary thoughts.

“Echo, can you hear me?” The clone leader speaks again, this time with a firmer tone, making Echo frown instantly and finally look at you. He finds you avoiding his gaze just as much, and he feels sick to his stomach for being the reason behind such a resigned look.

“Yes, yes. Loud and clear.”

Echo shakes his head and moves behind you, silently telling you to move ahead of him so he can keep an eye out and have your back. He thinks of the best plan of action to take now, but there isn’t a single option that doesn’t have plenty of risks for the both of you. He continues walking, hand on the blaster hanging from his side in case the guards return again.

So busy studying the street, Echo doesn’t notice you stop until he bumps into you, nearly tripping over your body and crashing onto the ground. You steady him immediately, clearing your throat when he lets out a whispered swear as soon as you touch his arm.

“Why did you stop?”

“There’s an inn I saw a couple of buildings back.” You avoid making eye contact with him, and Echo misses the playful glint he always saw in your eyes whenever he looked into them. He wants to raise your chin so he can take a better look at you, but he knows the last thing he should be doing right now is touching you so intimately again.

“The risk is too high.” All things considered, it’s a pretty good option, better than anything he thought of thus far, but he doesn’t want to think of staying somewhere where he isn’t keeping an eye on you, or worse, remaining in the same room as you for a whole night.

“Well, I’d rather be somewhere where we’re less noticeable. Don’t you?” You gaze into his eyes briefly, and Echo nearly loses his train of thoughts when he sees how dilated your pupils still remain. He stares at you for longer than deemed appropriate, clearing his throat awkwardly when he notices you shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Uhh, yeah…you’re right. L-lead the way.” He motions for you to go in front of him, and as your shoulder grazes his arm when you move past him, Echo notices your frown deepen. He doesn’t know what comes over him, but all of a sudden, you’re turning around and staring at him with what he can only explain as a hopeful look. He parts his lips to try and explain himself, but he quickly recognizes that you’ve only stopped because he had reached out to you and grabbed your wrist. Looking down at where he’s touching your bare skin, Echo shakes his head and snaps himself out of his thoughts, letting go immediately and shifting his gaze to your eyes once again.

“I- sorry…I’ll follow you.” He hates that he can barely string up a proper sentence in your presence now, but he thanks the maker when you merely nod at him and make your way down the street.

Neither of you says anything as you walk underneath the darker parts of town, completely avoiding the other’s gaze as well as those walking past you. Echo wants to break the awkward silence, but he knows he will either have nothing to say or may actually make the situation worse and say something idiotic. He stays close behind you though, and senses a strange feeling take over him every time he looks up and sees you move your line of sight away from him, as if he’s caught you staring at him.

Unbeknownst to him, you’re trying your best to keep your emotions in check, but every time you slow down and glance at him briefly, your mind worries all over again and you think over what happened not too long ago. It’s only when you notice Echo’s eyebrows furrow and twitch as he catches up with your pace that you realize you were unintentionally transferring your anxiety to him.

You halt in your steps as understanding washes over you, and Echo is at your side in the blink of an eye, hand on your back as he attempts to check on you.

“Is something wrong? Do you sense anything?” Gone is the shy, embarrassed clone trooper that has been avoiding your eyes for the past thirty minutes, and you look up at him with tear-filled eyes, nearly asking him why he was so uncomfortable with you now when he had his tongue down your throat, enthusiastically, a while ago. But you see the worry etched on his features, and you stop yourself before you say anything, afraid that the question might make matters worse and push him away further.

“Sorry no, it’s- it’s nothing. I’m just tired.” You can tell Echo knows you’re lying when he looks you over and doesn’t notice any signs of fatigue on you. He swallows the lump in his throat and removes his hand from your back, taking two steps back and looking out the street to see where the two of you are.

“We’re here anyway, let’s get inside before anyone spots us.” You point across the street, and don’t bother waiting for him to acknowledge your comment before you’re crossing the street. You hear Echo sigh tiredly behind you, and although you want to tell him that everything is going to be fine, you know that he’ll see right through the fake comforting words and say something snarky in return.

Best to leave it then…

“Hello,” putting on the best smile you can muster up, you call out to the theelin sitting behind a round desk at the center of the lobby.

“Rates are behind me. No negotiation. Full payment upfront. Take it or leave it.” He doesn’t bother looking up at you, continuing to scroll through the holopad in his hand as he taps his foot on the desk and lightly moves back and forth on his chair.

“Good evening to you too.” Echo murmurs beneath his breath, but the man catches his remark and finally looks up at the two of you. You clench your fists tightly when you see him narrow his eyes at Echo, and you hope to the maker that he doesn’t say anything offensive to him because you are in no mood to play nice with anyone.

“Don’t get snippy with me.” Echo must notice your hand moving to your lightsaber because he quickly slips his fingers around your wrist and tugs on it until it’s back on your side again. Taking a deep breath, you remember the purpose of your presence in the establishment and decide to hold out your patience for just a little longer.

“I’m sorry for my boyfriend here, it’s been a long day and I made him walk around for most of it. We’ll take a room for the night please?” You quickly slip your hands around Echo’s arm, nuzzling into his shoulder in a dramatic show of affection, hoping that the man in front of you was stupid enough to see past the discomfort the clone trooper beside you clearly still held for you, and actually believe your poorly-told lie.

“That’s 100 credits, sweetheart.”

“100 credits? This place isn’t even-” Echo steps forward and nearly goes on a rant, but the theelin throws the holopad aside and stands up.

“Want to make it 200, metalhead?”

If it were possible for you to see red so easily, you think you would have been blinded by it now and took the man’s head off before he can take in another breath. But something about the way Echo winces next to you brings you back to yourself, and you let go of him, not bothering for hiding yourself as you step towards the man and gesture with your hand at him.

“You will give us the room for free.”

“I- I will give you the room for free.” He repeats not a moment later, and you can vaguely feel Echo’s shock through the Force, but you say nothing of it now, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

“You will allow us to keep the room until we no longer need it.”

“I will allow you to keep the room until you no longer need it.” He repeats once more, and you smile to yourself when he doesn’t blink once as he follows your orders and checks his data pad for the available rooms.

“Give us the most secluded room you have here.” You order one last time, looking at Echo to gauge his reaction. You thought you would find him somewhat angry with you at using the Force for something so trivial, but instead, you find him smiling and shaking his head while scouting the room to ensure that you’re alone.

“Seventh floor to the right. The code is 99731.”

“Thank you, and if it’s all the same, we don’t wish to be disturbed.” You fake another smile at him and move towards the elevator, but not before breaking the cameras hanging all around the lobby and the top of the elevator.

“You will not be disturbed.” He whispers back as he sits down again and returns to his holopad, making Echo chuckle to himself before motioning for you to enter the elevator first.

“Asshole…” You hiss at him and watch as Echo moves to the entrance to see if anyone is following you.

“Come on, before anyone shows up.” You call to Echo, not wanting to remain out in the open for longer than necessary. The silence is back at full-force when he enters the elevator, but you sense that Echo isn’t as uncomfortable in your presence as before, and you sigh in relief at moving past whatever awkwardness that took over ever since he kissed you. The elevator signals your arrival, and your hand moves to your weapon immediately. Echo sees your reaction and holds his hand out, silently telling you to remove your hand from your lightsaber. You meet his eyes and blink at him shyly before resting your hand at your side, forcing yourself to look as relaxed as possible so no one around will suspect you of anything.

Echo is first to get out, turning to the right and heading towards the only door on the floor. He waits until you’re beside him before pushing in the code, and as the steel door slides open, he steps to the side to allow you to enter first before he walks in behind you. As soon as the two of you are in the safety of the room, Echo locks the door and pushes his scomp through the keypad beside the holopad on the wall to ensure that it can only be opened from inside.

“Hmm, it’s genuinely better than I thought it would be.” He hears you comment from behind him and turns around to study the room, his heart instantly dropping at the site of the bed at the edge of the space. His eyes shift to the large windows nearby and although he wants to marvel at the view from the room, his mind immediately returns to the small issue staring back at him.

Of course there would only be one bed.

“Yeah, except for-” Echo points at the bed, looking up at you and waiting until you follow his line of sight before he says anything else.

“Except for what?” You ask as you take off your cloaks and fold them neatly before placing them on one of the chairs.

“That.”

“Ah, not keen on sharing a bed with me Echo?” You raise a curious eyebrow at him, unbuckling the belt around your waist, along with the lightsaber, and placing them on top of your robes. Echo watches you like a loth-wolf, eyeing your body for any signs of discomfort and finding it rather confusing that you were actually comfortable around him now. You were going to be alone with him for the next rotation, perhaps even more, and there was only one bed in the room, making this a much more intimate situation than he thought ever possible.

“No, I mean yes…it’s n-not that I don’t want to, it’s just…I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” You cross your arms, and Echo’s eyes shift to your heaving chest for a brief second before they return above your neckline immediately. He clears his throat once and clenches his fist tightly, pushing the socket of his other arm behind his back in an attempt to show you how much he really didn’t want to answer your question.

“Right.” You notice his shy demeanor almost instantly, not from the clear shift in his body language, but from the way his Force signature changes to a much deeper shade of green than it usually is as soon as you ask your question. You say nothing else as you dismiss the whole conversation and shake your hand at him, walking around the room until Echo can see that you’re clearly disregarding whatever just happened for his sake. He’s quiet for a long time, and it’s only when he comes out of the refresher that you realize he’s left you all alone for a while, hence the lack of any noise from where you thought he was standing.

“Tech has our coordinates.” He breaks the silence and you see from your periphery that he was waiting for you to acknowledge that bit of information so he can go about whatever he was planning on doing for the near future.

“Okay.” Echo doesn’t know what he expected you to say, but it certainly wasn’t something as short and straightforward as this response. He can’t take his eyes off of you, and he wonders why you weren’t trying to get out of your drenched clothes.

Kriff, of course you weren’t going to strip down to nothing when you didn’t have a change of clothes. If there was another room, you would have been much more comfortable and warmer already. His mere presence was an inconvenience to you and Echo mentally slapped himself for, yet again, being such a nuisance.

If he were being honest with himself, however, he didn’t mind your state of attire at the moment. In fact, he enjoyed it immensely, especially since he could see your muscles through the thin material of your Jedi robes. His train of thoughts snaps him out of his haze and he chides himself for being such a creeper when you were most likely cursing the day you signed up to go on this mission with him.

He thinks you’re going to meditate, but when you stand at the windows and look across the city, Echo decides then and there that he’ll use this moment to apologize for the events of the day, and maybe explain to you why he was the reason behind your current predicament.

“Listen, I uhh…I wanted to apologize about earlier.” He approaches you slowly, hoping that he gains his voice quickly so his apology doesn’t come off disingenuous. You don’t acknowledge him until he stands next to you, and even then, you continue to stare out the window, not bothering to spare him so much as a glance.

“What about it?” The tone of your voice calms him a little, but he feels his nerves rise when he begins to explain himself and watches as you slowly turn towards him, eyes aimed to your fingers as they fiddle together anxiously. Hmm, perhaps he wasn’t the only nervous one here.

“I shouldn’t have stopped at the market. I should’ve been more aware of the guards watching us. If it hadn’t been for the time I wasted, we would be with the rest of the group by now.” Echo knows he may not be making a lot of sense, but when he finally looks at you, he finds a rather puzzling expression on your features. He thought you’d be irritated with him, perhaps even angry for him being the reason behind the chase around the city.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” He asks softly, not wanting to make it seem as if you didn’t have a right to look at him in such a manner.

“Nothing, it’s just…well, I thought you were apologizing for the kiss. I’m surprised that…ugh, nevermind.” His breath hitches when he registers your response, and just when he thinks you’re going to part with valuable words, you stop and turn away from him, facing the rain as it comes down harshly on the windows and prevents you from seeing the lights more clearly.

“I- I want to apologize for the kiss too. I should have given you a heads up before I…before we, you know.” Echo takes one step towards you and nearly reaches out to grab your arm, but he senses that you may not want him to come anywhere near you now and holds himself back. He wants you to say something, anything, to what he just said. But when you remain silent, he knows that nothing he’ll say will push you to speak with him. As twisted as it may be, Echo thinks that he’d rather have you yell at him for jeopardizing your life and the mission than the quietness befalling the two of you again.

Shaking his head, Echo reaches around and takes out the soft silk he’s kept tucked safely in his bag for the better half of the night.

“Here, I got t-this for you.” He turns the fabric over several times, letting it slide easily off of his cybernetic arm before holding it out to you. Echo thinks you will probably ignore him again, but to his shock, you face him almost instantly and look down at the soft silk intertwining in between his fingers. Looking into his eyes for a brief moment, you slowly reach for the scarf and take it from his hand, wrapping it several times around your fingers before letting it slide easily away from them and hang from where you’re pinching the material.

“It’s why I stopped when we were scouting the market place. I saw it and…it reminded me of you. I thought it would look pretty on you, especially since it’s the color of your lightsaber and all.” Echo scratches the back of his neck nervously, the smile he throws your way filled with the kind of hope that makes his actions from earlier much clearer to your mind. You finger the material for a while, wondering how you could have been so oblivious to his demeanor towards you. There’s nothing you can do except raise the scarf to your face and rub it against your cheek, feeling the softness of the fabric and wondering if Echo’s touch would feel just as soothing to your heated skin.

You look at him through heavy-lidded eyes and return the smile, waiting until his shoulders visibly relax before you throw the scarf aside and take a step towards him.

“I have nothing to give you in return…” You whisper to Echo, eyeing him closely to gauge his reaction to the proximity between your bodies.

“That’s okay, mesh’la. I didn’t do this for-” He begins to say but stops when he sees you growing even closer before resting both of your hands around his shoulders. He stops breathing and stares at you without blinking, praying to the maker that this wasn’t one of his dreams, and he was, in fact, feeling the touch of your skin on his yearning body.

“Except perhaps…this.” It’s the only warning Echo receives before you stand on your tiptoes and nudge your nose against his own. He parts his lips to say something but you don’t give him a chance to so much as breathe, molding your lips with his own in a chaste kiss, one that reminds him of the first intimate touch he shared with you not a whole hour prior. He shuts his eyes, wanting to commit every little caress and moan to memory before you decide to pull away and leave him.

But then you tilt your head to the side and deepen the kiss, and Echo knows then that he isn’t dreaming. No, this sensation felt too real. You were fisting your hands in his clothes, urging him to tower over you and return the kiss with as much fervor.

Then he remembers what was just transpiring between the two of you and he breaks the gesture abruptly, pushing you away to try and ground himself before he looks into your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to.” His voice is hoarse and he curses how easily affected he is by you. Expecting you to walk away from him, Echo looks down and pretends to focus on the ground so he doesn’t witness you leaving him.

But he should have known that you’d never do what he expects you to.

Without missing a beat, you throw your arms around his neck and bring your chest as flush to his own as possible, leaning into his space until your lips graze over his jaw and leave a trail of hot kisses down his neck to the little bit of his chest peeking through the damp clothes.

“But Echo, I want to. I really really want to.” You break the silence and bite into your lips mischievously when you pull away and notice the way Echo is gazing upon you. He stares at your features for what feels like hours before he responds.

“Yeah?” The question is completely unnecessary, at least that’s what you think, but you nod frantically to push aside any doubts the man in front of you is clearly having in response to your behavior. He slowly brings his arm around your waist and pushes on your lower back until there isn’t an inch in between the two of you.

“Force only knows how much I’ve wanted you ever since I joined the group. I can’t stop thinking about you, and…when we kissed earlier, I thought the feelings were mutual.” It’s your turn to question his feelings, but Echo is quick to brush aside whatever spiraling thoughts your mind was giving itself away to, bringing his cybernetic arm to your chin and raising your head until he looks straight into your dilated orbs.

“They are, oh sweetheart they are.” His exclamation hits you light a blaster shot, and you don’t blink once, wanting to look him in the eyes when you ask him the following question.

“Then w-why did you apologize?”

“Because I thought I made you uncomfortable. I thought I forced myself on you…and I thought you’d never look at me again because of what I did. Cyare, I would do anything to keep you safe, to keep you near me.” The desperation overflowing from his aura seeps into his words, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the prospect of being someone so important to him. It was against your upbringing, your values, your beliefs. To rely on another so heavily and hold a similar effect on them. It was unthinkable.

But here he was, laying down his soul for you to take without caring whether you could offer him anything in return. Little did he know, though, that you’d given yourself to him a long time ago.

Letting go of him, you take a step back and slowly remove the remaining robes from around your shoulders, until you’re left in nothing but a thin shirt and pair of cargo pants. Echo watches you intently, unsure of what it is you’re doing until his eyes take in the way you unbutton your pants and let them drop to the ground.

“What- what are you doing?” He’s nervous for a different reason now, and you smile at him to put his mind at ease, not wanting to overdo in case he isn’t ready to take such a monumental step with you.

“You said you’d do anything to keep me near you.” You respond as if it was the most sensical action to take, and as you step out of your pants and play with the hem of your shirt, Echo can’t help but trail his eyes across your body, marveling to himself at the rippling muscles and scars adorning your skin. He’s dreamt of this moment so often that he lost count of how many times he woke up sweating and touching himself. But now that he is here, Echo understands that nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to you in front of him now.

Breathtaking.

“Yeah but you- you don’t have to…we don’t have to do anything.” It’s the opposite of what he wants to say, what he feels, but he doesn’t want you to think that he’s the type of man to take advantage of the circumstances and use you. Granted, he desperately wanted to give into the moment, but not at the cost of you thinking so negatively of him.

“Echo, I want you to be with me.” You practically moan for him, moving into his space and grazing your fingers up and down his chest until his knees nearly give out. Echo throws his head back and purrs at the soft, teasing touches you were gracing him with, and when you call for him again, he knows he’s made up his mind.

“Be with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You answer instantly, leaning up and kissing his jaw until he takes you into his embrace once more. He nuzzles his cheeks against your temple, taking in a long whiff of your scent until the only thing he can sense is you.

“A-are you sure?” You ask with a hesitation Echo never thought you capable of, and he chuckles at the mind-boggling question before he leans back and meets your gaze.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life, cyar’ika.” You attack his mouth soon after, swallowing his groans when he parts his lips and welcomes you in enthusiastically. You thought his shy demeanor would continue, but the deeper the kiss becomes, the more bold the clone trooper is with his touches. Whereas his hand was at a respectful spot earlier, you have to stop yourself from giggling against his lips as soon as you feel his fingers dig in the flesh of your ass and squeeze tightly. The wet clothes still covering you barely leave anything to the imagination, but you gasp all the same when Echo slips his palm inside your panties and slides his fingers a little further down until he can feel how wet you are for him.

You tilt your head to the side and sigh his name as he continues to familiarize himself with your skin, and before you can register what’s happening, Echo is leaning down and biting harshly on your shoulder, snapping you out of whatever haze that’s fallen over you and forcing you to look at him.

“Let me see all of you,” his pleading words are music to your ears, and you don’t waste another second, quickly discarding your shirt while he kneels down and lowers your panties. When he stands to his height, he takes a step back until he hits the cold glass windows, roaming his eyes down your body until he satisfies his mind’s eye with the image of your perfection. You bask in the attention he gives you, keeping your hands to yourself for as long as possible until you can no longer stand there without touching him.

As soon as you grab the hem of his shirt, however, Echo snaps out of his haze and grabs your wrist to stop you from viewing him to your hungry eyes.

“Wait, I-”

“Yes?” You frown at him but don’t follow through with your intentions, waiting patiently until he feels he can answer your question with ease.

“I don’t think you want to see me. It- it doesn’t look good underneath all these clothes.” His response comes to you as a shock, considering how he seldom cared for his looks. The way he’s avoiding your eyes now makes you wonder if he always cared for his appearance but you just never noticed it, or if he was only so self-conscious due to the situation you found yourself in. You realize that you don’t really care why he thinks of himself in such a way, or why he thought you’d even care for something so trivial. Not wanting to push him past his comfort zone, you let go of his shirt and wrap your arms around his waist to bring him as close to you as possible.

“Echo, I don’t care. I don’t care how you look. I want you for you…for your sweet words, and your kind heart, and your generous spirit. I want you baby, I don’t care for anything else.” You hope he can believe the genuineness of your words, or at the very least, see that you weren’t the type of person to care for such an insignificant characteristic. You don’t like how closed off his body language is, and you kiss across his chest and arms to soothe his anxiety so he doesn’t leave altogether.

“But if you’re not comfortable with me just yet, then I will respect that. I won’t pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do.” The reassuring words wash over him like lukewarm water and he relaxes beneath your touch with each little peck you leave on his touch-starved skin, until he is sure you managed to mark every visible inch of him. Echo thinks he might lose his mind from how sweet you’re being with him, his breathing becoming erratic when whisper sweet words against his skin with every little kiss and touch you caress him with,

“If you’ll allow me though, I will worship every inch of you…as you deserve.” You promise him as you circle your arms around his body and dig your fingers into his back, wanting him to be as close to you as possible so he can feel your honesty through the Force.

“You- you truly want me this much, sweetheart?” He’s shaking in your embrace, and you chuckle in return at the oddity of the question. If only he knew how much you craved him.

“Oh you have no idea,” you respond right away, not wanting him to think you’re laughing at his question, or worse, at his reaction. You pull back enough to take a good look at him, and you focus all of your energy on the space between the two of you, wanting him to know that you weren’t telling a single lie. He must be in tune with your intentions because his expression relaxes greatly when he meets your eyes and sees nothing but adoration aimed at him.

“Then…I’m all yours.”

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like something.” You want nothing more than to push him down and have your way with him, but you want him to know that you’ll gladly stop if you do something he doesn’t particularly enjoy. He was very much in control of the situation, and you desperately wished he believed that as well.

“Y-yeah.” His voice is not as reluctant as before, but you get the sense that he was still shy, perhaps even afraid of the prospect of revealing his body to you. Not wanting to waste anothering moment, you take his hand in your own and lead him to the bed, softly pushing on his chest until he sits down and makes space for you in between his thighs. Echo gulps nervously as you trail your fingers across his flushed skin, only to cease breathing when you lean down and cup his cheeks, keeping him still beneath you so you can kiss his forehead and whisper more assurances to him.

His hand gravitates to your thigh and he holds onto your leg to try and force himself to focus on your touches and nothing else. You continue to kiss his face as you bend over and grab the edge of his shirt, slowly pulling it up until he raises his arms for you to take it off of him completely. When you throw it aside and kneel in front of him, Echo rests his hand on your shoulder and wishes for the impossible.

He mourns the times he could have shared with you if you had just met him before Skako Minor.

“Maker,” the sentiment brings him out of his reverie before he can dwell too long on the ‘what ifs,’ and he pouts at you when he sees the expression on your pretty features shift several times until a sense of somber anger lingers through and remains unchanging.

“I- I told you it didn’t look great.”

“Baby, if I could take away your pain, I would do it…in a heartbeat.” You don’t want him to misunderstand your reaction, and you apologize for everything that’s been done to him, moving into his space until you can rest your cheek over his heart. It beats wildly against your ear and you hope it isn’t due to fear or nervousness. Against your better judgment, you tap into his Force signature and sigh in relief as understanding dawns over you.

Echo isn’t embarrassed to be seen by you but guilty, of what you are unsure. But you push on and rest your lips against his chest until his heart beats even harder beneath you.

“Kriff,” he curses and slides his hand across your back to your neck, grasping it tightly to tilt your head so he can look into your eyes and thank you for being so patient with him.

“You mean so much to me,” you smile at him, leaning into the possessive touch before giving equal attention to the rest of his broad chest. You keep your hands over his hips, knowing that things would surrey escalate quickly if you didn’t pace yourself and think of his comfort first

“Ah…s-sweetheart,” Echo moans beneath you, his breaths coming in erratic when he feels your tongue slide over his muscles and leave a trail of your mark across him.

“And I will never let anything happen to you…ever again.” Although the tone of your voice comes off a little aggressive, Echo knows that it is your sense of protection making you this possessive of him, and not something he should fear. You were among the most well-respected Jedi, and although he knew that the events of the night would not benefit you in any way, he chose to think over the fact that the Jedi Order no longer existed and how honest you would be with him if you truly didn’t want this. No longer able to keep himself sitting upright, Echo throws his head back and falls onto the bed when he feels your teeth graze over his collarbone.

“Oh fuck, your mouth feels so good…please,” he hears you giggle sweetly at him as you stand up and straddle his waist. You don’t give him any respite however, attacking him with your tongue, and teeth and hands until he’s a shaking mess underneath you. He grabs your ass with his hand and rests the scomp of his other one over your thighs, unintentionally bucking his hips into your wet core as soon as he feels you rub yourself on him. He’s hard and wanting, incapable of thinking of anything else but the immense pleasure you were bestowing upon him.

It occurs to him that he rather enjoys you taking what you want from him, and he wonders if you’d be willing to remain in charge until the two of you reach release. There’s something so inherently sexy about a powerful Jedi such as yourself descending to their basest of instincts just to reach that unimaginable pleasure, and he feels honored that he is the one to throw you over the edge so quickly. He never thought you’d react in such an unhinged, nearly violent way to him, but he can’t find it in himself to care, especially now when he could see you let go completely just to make him see the galaxies in your arms.

“Tell me what you want Echo, I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

“I- I want you, love. Just you.” Echo manages to flutter his eyes open in time to see you move lower across his body, parting his lips in anticipation when you unbutton his cargo pants and reach inside to take him in your hand. He sucks in a harsh breath as soon as he feels the palm of your hand cup his cock and squeeze it tightly. When he looks into your eyes, he sees them glistening wickedly with such strong emotions that he nearly comes then and there. For some reason, he genuinely thought you’d be the type to shy away from such lewd displays of affections, but you prove him wrong again and spit in your other hand before sitting up to lower down the rest of his pants and free him from the confines of his clothes.

“You already have me.” You whisper to him as you begin to bend over his body to take his cock in your mouth, but Echo shakes his head at you and grabs your hand, not bothering to give you any explanation as he pulls you up until you fall against his chest.

“Come here,” he swallows your surprised shrieks with an intense kiss, refusing to let go of you even as you begin to jerk him off and tease the base of his cock with your soft fingers. Only when you reach lower and massage his balls does Echo finally break the kiss, groaning your name wantonly as you squeeze the tip of his cock while biting his neck and shoulder. You try to slither down his body again but Echo whispers a quick ‘no’ before grabbing your neck and keeping you against his chest.

“But I-” you want to tell him that there’s nothing more you need in this world than to feel him hot and heavy in your mouth, but Echo doesn’t give you the chance to continue, once again calling your name sweetly so he can hold your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the galaxy, you can do whatever you want with me later.” He smiles at you when he sees you whine in disapproval, the expression throwing you off completely because of how rare it is to see it so genuine and pure.

“But right now, I really want to feel your cunt wrapped around my cock.” His words shoot straight to your core, halting your actions in an instant and sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin.

“Oh,” you look in between his eyes and briefly question whether they were always this light hazel color. All clones had similar physical features, even those in your crew. The differences were more pronounced amongst the Bad Batch for obvious reasons, but the color of their eyes never changed.

But now that you were laying so close to Echo, you swear his eyes are different from the others. They rarely displayed strong emotions, and you think it’s because Echo often tried to hide his true feelings from the others around him so they wouldn’t worry too much about him. But looking at him now, you come to accept that his pretty gaze would always be a source of serenity and safety for you.

You want to tell him how much you love his eyes, how you’ll never be able to look into another’s so intimately, how honored you feel for being at the receiving end of such a loving gaze. But Echo surprises you suddenly as he lets go of your neck and expertly moves his hand in between your bodies until he graces your wet folds with two of his fingers. He moans against your cheek when he feels your slit gush for him, and as slowly as possible, he rubs your clit a few times to wet his fingers so he can slide them into your cunt with ease. You shut your eyes and call for him as you feel his digits fill you up, and Echo mirrors your actions from before, leaning up just enough to lick your neck before sinking his teeth into the space just above your clavicle.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re already so wet. Is this all for me?” He fucks you slowly with his fingers, the sound of your slick filling the night air becoming music to his ears. For a moment, he realizes that he should have probably asked you if this is okay, but he remembers who you are and how easily you could climb off of him if you didn’t enjoy his ministrations. You pray his name over and over again, and Echo swears this must be what heaven feels like because never in his life did he think he’d live to have you so desperate and submissive in his arms.

“I- yes, it’s all for you Echo. You kissed me and…I- I’m always like this whenever you’re around.” Your confession fills him with pride, and he thrusts his hips against you to get some friction against his achingly hard cock.

“Is that right?” Echo wants to ask more, but he knows his mind is running out of coherent thoughts the more you drench his fingers and mark him with your essence. To think that you were always so ready to take him by just being in his vicinity flips a switch in Echo’s mind and he picks up his pace, wanting to feel you come on his fingers before he can finally shove his cock in your cunt.

“Yes…oh gods yes. Please Echo, show me how much you want me.”

“I’m going to take my time with you…map every inch of your skin with my lips. I’ll never stop showing you how much I…how much I care for you cyar’ika.” Hearing him finally tell you how deeply he feels for you is enough to throw you over the edge, and you grab onto his shoulders while resting your forehead against his own as soon as your body gives into the pleasure and shudders from how hard the orgasm hits you. You want to tell him that you care for him as well, more than that if you’re being honest, but he doesn’t slow down and continues to twist and push his fingers against your tight walls until you can’t breathe any more.

“Echo,” you call for him once, and a part of you wishes you didn’t say anything because he stops and removes his fingers from your slit. You can feel your juices coating his hand as he roams his palm over your back and drags your essence across your skin. Raising your head, you bite into your lips when you see the way he’s looking at you, and as you’re about to tell him those three fateful words you’ve been holding back for some time now, Echo pushes his hand between your sweaty bodies again and takes hold of his dick, teasing your clit with soft passes until you begin to roll your hips above him and coat his length with your cum.

“You going to let me make love to you baby? You going to let me fuck you so deep till you can’t think of anything else but my cock?”

“Please Echo,” you’re not above begging, and you hope that Echo doesn’t wait any longer before giving in to his desires.

“Kriffing hells, if I’d known it takes so little to get you moaning my name like that, I would have gotten on my knees and begged you to let me touch you from the very first time I laid my eyes on you.” He thrusts up into you, smirking at your reactions when he spreads your thighs wider and nudges your clit with the head of his cock.

“Echo, I need you…now. You- you said we’d take our time later.” Again, Echo kisses across your neck as he pushes his dick against you, bringing his cybernetic arm around your back as soon as you fall over him and nuzzle into his neck. You bring your arms above his head and keep him in your embrace, rolling your hips along with him to entice him enough so he can finally put you out of your misery and take you.

“You want my cock, little love?” The pet name does something to you, but you will yourself to not be distracted by his sweet words, wanting to hold all of your attention on feeling him beneath you.

“Desperately.”

“Then you can have it,” the only warning you have is a deep, guttural groan emitting from Echo’s chest as he slowly pushes his cock inside your cunt, bringing his hand over your ass and applying enough pressure to keep you planted flush against him.

“O-ohhhh…”

Neither of you move for what feels like hours, and Echo swears against your ears when you clench tightly around him and somehow pull him in deeper.

“F-fuck,” he digs his fingers into the flesh of your back, refusing to have any space between your bodies out of fear of this being nothing more than a dream.

“Move…please move.” You grind on top of him to test the waters, but Echo growls for you to stop, wanting to commit this moment to memory so he can revisit it whenever he feels particularly needy for you.

“Hold on, just let me…let me feel you. L-let me feel all of you.” The way his voice breaks does something to you, and you obey him without a second thought, leaning up just a little so you can take a better look at him. You find his eyes tightly shut, and you caress his eyelids with your lips until they relax and slowly flutter open to see you.

“Echo, you’re so good…so good to me.” You bite into your lower lip when your comment makes him push up into you, sending his cock into that special spot inside of you that makes you shake in weakness.

“If you keep talking like that, I won’t last much longer sweetheart.” He warns you with a shallow thrust, and you hover your mouth over his lips when he sets a slow pace, shoving his cock in and out of you so gently and steadily until that familiar tight knot in your lower stomach begins to unravel again.

“Kriff baby, you’re fucking hot…so tight ‘round me. So fucking good.”

“And you feel so hard inside me…filling me up like no one else has before.” You lick his lower lip, giving the corner of his mouth a quick kiss before you rest your forehead against his cheek and start pushing yourself down on his dick, meeting his sweet touches with hard thrusts of your own.

“Yeah? Tell me sweetheart, has anyone fucked you the way I do?”

“No…gods no.” You barely manage to breathe in between those words, making Echo chuckle at your desperation while struggling with his own.

“Has- has anyone kissed you like I do?” He asks with hope and expectation, praying to the maker that you give him the answer he craves.

“Never,” you nearly choke on your saliva when Echo begins to fuck up into you harder, the tip of his cock passing over your walls so deliciously that you swear you can feel ever ridge and ever vein on his dick the deeper he comes inside of you.

“Fuck…fuck, ahhh- has anyone touched you how I do?” Echo is bordering on the edge of ecstasy, and you moan his name like a benediction when he stops for a second to enjoy the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him before he continues his rough thrusts once more.

“No one Echo, oh fuck, please…right there.”

“Ner cyare, I- I…” He wants to say so much, reveal his heart’s secrets so he can finally know if you feel the same way he does. But the need to make you come on his cock outweighs everything else, and he pushes his nose against your jugular while wrapping both of his arms around your back to keep you as flush to him as possible.

“I know baby, I know.” You’re shaking in his arms, hugging him tightly as you surrender to his ministrations. Something snaps inside Echo because he begins to fuck you with abandon until you can feel him and only him.

“So close,” you whisper against his cheek, not knowing how to help him reach his own peak in return. He barely gives you the chance to push off of him so you do the only thing within your power, you lean down and kiss his temple while he fills you up over and over again.

“Me too sweetheart, me too.”

“Kiss me Echo,” his breathing is erratic but he obeys you instantly, molding his lips with your own in a hungry kiss until your senses are flooded with his touch and his taste and his presence.

I love you Echo, so much.

Your voice echoes in his mind for seconds on end, and Echo cums inside of you as soon as he registers what you just did. You swallow his moans as he shoots his seed into your cunt, filling you up with every hard thrust until he feels your walls flutter around him. You break the kiss as you climax, letting your head fall into his neck as you sob violently from the intensity of your orgasm. He’s managed to coax pleasure from your body in such a short period of time, but you get the sense that it was only possible because it is him. The fact that he’s head you wrapped around his finger for such a long time probably had some effect on you as well, but you pay those thoughts no mind as you slowly come down from your high and feel Echo make more of a mess of you when he pulls out and nudges his cock in between your damp bodies.

You stay in each other’s arms for a long time, only deciding to move when your sweat cools down and makes you shiver. Ever the gentleman, Echo sits up while keeping you in his arms, somehow managing to maneuver the two of you around across the bed until you’re both laying down against the pillows. He pulls up the covers over your bodies, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around your back to keep you close to his heart.

“About what I said, I- don’t think too much on it.” You break the silence all of a sudden, and Echo has to sift through everything you said to figure out what you’re referring to.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want you to think that you have to…you know, say it back.” It’s only when you say that last sentiment that Echo finally knows what you’re talking about, and he holds back the sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue when he looks down and sees something akin to anxiety swimming in your eyes.

“Don’t you know?” It’s a simple question, and Echo doesn’t leave the silence to linger for too long, wanting you to know that he cares for you as much as you care for him, perhaps even more.

“I love you too mesh’la, with all my heart.” The revelation nearly sends your heart leaping out of your chest, and you can only smile and lean up to kiss him in response, unsure of whether you had the wherewithal to say any coherent sentence now. Echo in turn kisses the crown of your head, tracing random patterns across your shoulders when he feels you relax into him as the moments roll by.

“Thank you for the scarf, and for thinking of me.”

“I’m always thinking of you, little love. You- you never leave my mind really.”

“Neither do you.”

The depths of your words reminds Echo of your identity, and he smiles down at you when he realizes that such a sentiment probably meant a great deal to you considering your upbringing and the rules you were tasked to follow since your childhood. He wants to ask you about your attachment to him, but he knows it’s not the time to do so, and he has no wish to ruin the moment by bringing up something so “sensitive.”

“So that thing you did, before I…you know.” Even though he just said the filthiest things to you, he shies away from saying anything crude now, mostly because he’s afraid it would come out more awkward than it sounds in his head.

“Came?” You finish the thought for him and Echo winces briefly before nodding in agreement.

“Y-yeah.”

Something happens between his response and your understanding of it because all of a sudden, you’re sitting up and resting your hand on Echo’s chest as you apologize profusely to him.

“Oh maker, did I- I made you uncomfortable, didn’t I? I should have asked before I presumed you’d…Echo, I’m so sorry. It didn’t ever occur to me that you wouldn’t be comfortable with that considering what happened on-”

“Cyare, sweetheart…look at me.” Echo sits up and tugs you into him, not caring for how the wires on his chest might hurt you as he keeps you against his chest rather forcefully and refuses to let up.

“I didn’t mind it, one bit. On the contrary, I was going to ask if you can do it again.” He says quickly to avoid whatever misunderstanding that was about to unfold, only letting go of you when he sees you register his words in your mind.

“Really?” Your expression turns from one of worry to shock, and Echo smiles at how easily surprised you can be.

“It…felt nice, hearing your voice inside my mind I mean. I really liked it, made me feel so connected to you.” Echo roams his fingers down your neck to your sternum, moving them across your breasts slowly until he notices your nipples pebble beneath his touch. He’s distracted for a second when he flicks one peak with his thumb and makes you fall over him.

“Because your cock fucking me so deep wasn’t connecting us enough?” You ask teasingly, giggling like a little girl when he sighs in irritation and falls back into the bed, taking you along with him.

“And here I thought I could have a nice moment with you.”

“You know you’re enjoying this just as much.” You tilt his head so he can look at you again, tapping his nose twice and laughing even harder when he smiles and raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“You got me there.”

“I’m glad you kissed me tonight.” You break the silence after a while again, looking into Echo’s eyes when he turns to his side and throws his arm over your waist.

“I’m glad you kissed me back.” He’s about to tell you his brothers will be happy that he finally told you how he feels when your hand rolls down his chest and begins to reach for his slowly hardening cock.

“Kriff sweetheart, as much as I want to go for round two, we should get some rest.” He stops you before things escalate, grabbing your hands and turning you around in his arms until your back is against his chest.

“But-” You want to argue with him, but Echo is insistent, shaking his head and tugging you into him to try and distract you from whatever plan you had in mind.

“Knowing Hunter and Tech, the plan won’t go as smoothly as they’ll plan it.”

“Fine, but I’m holding you to your word.” You warn him with a quick glance, only to pull away when you feel him kiss your neck and bite you playfully.

“Believe me when I tell you, I’ll be counting the seconds until you touch me again.” His voice is hoarse, sending a new wave of arousal down your spine and making you wish you weren’t in need of rest. But he was right, and you knew better than to think that the plan would go smoothly. If the events of the night proved anything, it was that the unexpected and the impossible did not often go hand-in-hand.

“Good night sweetheart,” Echo whispers against your skin before he nuzzles against your neck, smiling to himself when you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers together.

“Good night Echo.”

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