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triptuckers · 9 months

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undercover - captain rex

Request: nope Pairing: captain rex x reader (reader has long hair) Summary: you're sent undercover to get an important data stick from a separatist leader Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries Word count: 1.8K A/N: give me PINING rex he needs to be YEARNING. love me a pixel man. enjoy reading!

it's an easy mission. a very important one, but it seemed rather easy. anakin's briefing was short as well.

one of the separatist leaders had a data stick with important information about a few new secret bases. they thought it was so important, that the separatist kept the data stick on him at all times.

which is where you came in.

there was a popular summer festival coming up on the separatist's home planet. your job was to go there, have fun, talk with the separatist and steal the data stick.

to avoid attracting too much attention, only anakin and captain rex accompanied you. the three of you arrived via public shuttle, dressed in civilian clothes.

you had traveled to the festival and separated once you got closer.

and now anakin and rex are hiding on the edge of a mountain ridge, looking out over the festival terrain, waiting for you to show up.

rex is glad he's not wearing his full armour for once, because the planet is extremely hot.

'general.' says rex after a while. 'isn't she going to stand out? they're going to notice a jedi general attending a festival.'

while they'd all worn civilian clothes while traveling, your clothes had still resembled jedi robes a little. you claimed you felt more comfortable that way. and if rex could recognise them as "kind of jedi robes", then surely the festival crowd could recognise it as well?

'well, then it's a good thing she won't look like a jedi general.' says anakin.

as if on cue, you enter the festival. rex looks at you through his scope, and anakin was right. you don't look like a jedi general. you look like a girl who is excited to have a good time at a festival. and you had changed your outfit.

you're now wearing a blue skirt that reaches your calves, and it's fluttering in the hot summer breeze. a tight fitting black top and a pair of comfortable shoes finish up your outfit. no jedi robes, no armour. but what catches rex off guard is your hair.

normally, you wear it tied up in several buns or braids, saying it was annoying if it got in your face all the time. after all, you're moving around a lot during battle. but you wouldn't cut if off, you loved your long hair.

now it flows freely down your shoulders and back, and it moves in the wind and shines in the sunlight.

rex knows you're off limits. you're a general, he's a captain. you could be thrown out of the order, he could be removed from duty - or worse.

so he's kept his mouth shut all this time.

but seeing you like this, no armour or weapons or a concentrated frown on your face. your hair and skirt moving in the wind. rex has never had to hold himself back so much. to stop himself from staring at you so many times.

meanwhile, more and more people have joined the festival terrain and the music has gotten louder.

anakin and rex keep an eye on you as you dance and laugh and have a good time in the valley below. they watch you as you approach the separatist leader and laugh this jokes and touch his arm, pulling him to the dance floor.

it sparks a flame of jealousy in rex's chest. that separatist leader with his girl.

no, not his girl.

a respected general of the GAR. one of his superior officers. who is now on an important undercover mission.

still, rex doesn't like watching you and the separatist leader.

after a while, the separatist leader has had enough of the dancing, and orders a few drinks. you sit with him and talk, leaning in close as you're listening to him.

because rex had been watching you so closely, he notices the exact moment when you swipe the data stick from him.

but you don't leave immediately, that would have been suspicious. a couple more minutes pass before you get up and head back to the dance floor. without the separatist this time.

just as rex is looking at you slowly making your way to the exit, the separatist yells out that someone has stolen something from him. anakin and rex hear how he shouts for a girl in a blue skirt.

given that your cover is blown, you give up trying to blend in with the crowd. you run away from the festival as fast as you can, heading towards the meeting point anakin told you to go to if things went wrong.

it's still hot, and within minutes you're sweaty and out of breath as you make your way up to the mountain ridge. but you won't tell yourself to slow down til you've put enough distance between yourself and the festival.

you're running uphill and just as you round the corner of a large boulder, you smack into something solid. before you can defend yourself, a pair of hands grabs your shoulders to stop you.

you look up into anakin's familiar eyes.

'got it.' you say, still out of breath, handing him the data stick. 'let's get out of here.'

you start to move past anakin, but you're stopped again. this time, by rex.

'general, your leg.' he says.

you look down and see your blue skirt is stained with red. you frown. in the crowd and while you were running away, you hadn't noticed you got hit by something. so it probably wasn't too bad.

'I'm fine.' you say. 'I hardly feel it, let's just get out of here quickly while we still have a head start .'

anakin eyes the amount of blood on your skirt, then looks behind you at the festival.

'no, you'll lose more blood and slow us down.' he says. 'rex, bind her leg. quickly.'

'yes, sir.' says rex.

'it's fine.' you say.

'rex, bind her leg. that's an order.' says anakin, with a slightly playful look in his eyes. you all know rex won't refuse a direct order from his general.

rex looks at you. 'sorry general. general's orders.' he says.

'what if I outrank anakin?' you say.

'do you?' says rex.

'rex.' says anakin, a little more firmly this time.

rex clears his throat and steps closer to you, then crouches down. he pulls out a knife and looks up at you.

'I'll need to cut a piece of your skirt so I can use it to bind your leg.' he says.

'yeah, go ahead.' you say.

rex carefully cuts a strip of fabric from the bottom of your skirt, then puts his knife away. he briefly looks up at you and silently asks permission before he slides your skirt upwards, til it reaches just above the cut on your thigh.

'hold it there, please.' he says.

you take a hold of your skirt and your other hand comes down to rest on rex's shoulder for balance as you take the weight off of your injured leg.

as you feel rex's gloved fingers on your thigh, you clench your teeth to keep yourself from looking down at him. you're fully aware anakin is standing right next to you, keeping an eye on the path in case separatists would show up. you wished anakin wasn't here.

you feel how rex wraps the piece of fabric around your thigh.

'this is going to hurt.' rex warns.

'I can-'

you're cut off by rex pulling the knot tight and a sharp pain shoots through your leg.

on instinct, you groan rex's name, your fingers digging into his shoulder. rex tries to ignore you saying his name like that, and focuses on securing the piece of fabric in place.

rex gives the knot a small tug, and when it stays in place, he stands again. your hand falls from his shoulder and you drop your skirt, which is now knee length instead of reaching your calves.

'thanks.' you say.

rex nods. 'you're welcome.'

'we need to move.' says anakin. 'they would have heard that if they were close.'

you nod and the three of you start your way back to the shuttle bay. rex occasionally helps you climb over rocks, to make sure you don't put more pressure on your injured leg.

when you get to the shuttle, you quickly board it and take a seat near the back of the craft. anakin takes off his jacket so you can wrap it around your waist, hiding the biggest part of your blood stained skirt.

the way back to anakin's flagship isn't that long, but you start to get tired nonetheless. it's probably due to the blood loss, you think. you know if you close your eyes, it's a bad sign, so you stay awake by focusing on rex's presence next to you. you can feel his shoulder against yours.

when you get to anakin's ship, he goes to inform the other jedi masters the mission was a success while rex escorts you to medbay.

one of your arms is over his shoulder while his other arm is around your waist, given that your energy has drained since running away from the festival.

'thanks.' you say, as you and rex walk though the halls of the ship.

'for what?' says rex.

'being a literal shoulder to lean on.'

'you would have done the same for me, general.'

'you know I prefer it if you call me by my name, rex.'

'and you know I call superior officers by their rank, general.'

maybe it's the blood loss. or the dizziness. or the fact rex is so close. whatever the case, you get a sudden burst of courage.

'is that all I am to you? a superior officer?' you say.

you feel rex briefly stiffen besides you.

'for the sake of my rank, yes.' he says.

you feel anxiety and regret growing in your stomach and think of something to say to change the subject, but rex speaks again. softer, this time.

'for the sake of who I am without this armour and the rank of captain, you're more than just a superior officer, y/n.' he says.

you smile as rex walks you through the doors of medbay.

'I'm glad to hear that.' you say.

rex gently places you on a bed and calls over the chief medical officer. he smiles at you.

'sorry your skirt got ruined.' he says. 'I... liked it.'

'of course you do, it's the color of the 501st.' you say.

rex raises his eyebrows. 'is that why you picked blue?'

you shrug. 'I figured it would look great next to the blue of your armour.'

before rex can answer, the chief medical officer arrives at your bed.

'we'll talk about the mission later, captain.' you say to him, with a quick wink, as the medical officer examines your leg.

rex smiles briefly and nods at you. 'certainly, general.'

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Max/Marit

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buffysimonriley · 1 year

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[ comfort officer ] • captain rex

synopsis - you're a comfort officer for the 501st but your sights are set on one person.

pairing - captain rex/reader.

warnings - nsfw.

fancy helping me pay for my wedding? | commissions. | ao3. | wattpad.

being a comfort officer for the 501st had been a rollercoaster of a ride, but one you had enjoyed so far. the members of the 501st had all fallen for you, but there was somebody in particular who caught your attention: captain rex.

currently, rex's cock was in your mouth as he squirmed underneath you. his cock was so far in the back of your throat that you were gagging for air, however rex's delicious moans kept you from coming up. rex was completely at your mercy and you were loving every second of it. you see, rex was the only submissive member of the 501st in the bedroom. the captain would submit to you completely and without question. rex's love for you was pure and unfiltered and he told you that every time he saw you. but that was for another time. right now, you bobbed your head along rex's cock and revealed in the sounds he made. "oh maker, y/n," he groaned grasping your hair in his hands. "can't take it anymore, need to be inside of you."

you pulled off his cock with a 'pop' sound and nodded, a smirk gracing your lips. you loved it when he begged for you and he was so close to begging. you turned around and shimmied your pants down your legs until they pooled at your ankles, shaking your arse at him teasingly. rex could let out a slow moan as he reached for the plush of your arse. taking each cheek in either hand, he squeezed tightly as he admired the way you filled his palms. his cock was so hard, it was hot to the touch and beads of pre cum were now dripping down his shaft. you turned around again to look at rex, still smiling. "poor baby, do you need me?" you asked teasingly. rex's throat was dry and all's he could do was nod as he swallowed. you obliged, pushing him down onto your bed and crawling on top of him. you teased him by grinding your pussy against his thigh, coating it with your wetness that had accumulated just from sucking him off.

rex sighed and grasped your hips. "please," he begged.

you cocked an eyebrow at him. "you know better than 'please'," you smiled, still grinding against him.

"y/n, baby, i'm begging you," he pleaded. "i need you to ride me. i need it."

"good boy," you whispered before making your way up to his cock. you aligned it perfectly with your cunt and slowly lowered yourself down on top of him. you were being so slow, rex was desperate to thrust himself up into you to bottom out, but he knew better than that. the last time he did you had tied him to your bed post for hours and made him watch as you brought yourself to orgasm again and again. "maker, rex, you're throbbing."

"i wonder why," rex groaned as he rolled his eyes at you. you slapped him slightly, causing the captain to look at you with wide eyes.

"don't give me sass," you growled, before plonking yourself down on his last inch quickly.

"holy fuck," rex moaned out, throwing his head back.

you let out a chuckle and began to move your hips up and down, your pace agonisingly slow. "you like that pretty boy?" you whispered, bending down to give his lips a quick peck. rex nodded, eyes glossy and wide as he looked up at you. his eyes trailed down to your breasts, watching as they bounced with each bounce you did. it didn't take you long before you were quickening your pace, already bringing rex to orgasm. his eyes told you exactly what you wanted to know. "gonna cum rexy?" you asked cockily.

"y-yeah," he whimpered, fists grasping the sheets beneath him. you laughed and continued bouncing up and down, eager to make the clone captain cum in less than a minute. you made a few more movements with your hips before rex was a stuttering, moaning mess beneath you. "cumming y/n-" he screamed out, letting the others in his squad know you were fucking him senseless.

"my my," you whispered, slowing down as he came inside of you. "you made a mess pretty boy."

"'m sorry," he whimpered. rex's eyes were glued to where you were joined, watching as you lifted yourself up off his cock, his cum dribbling out of you.

"my eyes are up here," you snapped. rex's eyes shot up so he was looking at you directly in the eye. you were smiling sweetly at him now, watching as his face softened.

"sorry love," he mumbled. you bent down, eye-level with his cock and put it in your mouth once more. "w-what are - ah - you doing?"

"sensitive?" you choked, mouthful of his cock. he nodded in response. "oh i'm not done with you yet, captain," you purred.

boy, was rex in for a long night.

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morganas-pendragons · 1 year

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Defensor | O.K.

this one is dedicated to @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories because they're all dedicated to her now

prompt: obi-wan needs a protector from Anakin within the force. seeing as you are his spouse, you're more then happy to give it to him.

set during episode 3 and the beginning of 4 of kenobi

****

It’s hard to remember how old he is sometimes. How worn and calloused his skin is underneath your fingertips, the coarseness of the curls you thread through your fingers as he sleeps peacefully at your side for the first time in years.

Obi-Wan Kenobi has spent the greater majority of his tragic, lonely life dedicating what he can to protecting you. It is his obligation. His commitment. His promise.

But he so rarely allows you the opportunity to protect him.

You intend to change that now.

It comes with the confession from the mouth of the Third Sister in your search to find Leia. Anakin Skywalker lives. You nearly want to run the girl through with your own saber for being so careless with such a confession, but you’re smart enough to know why she’s uttered it.

She’s trying to break him. Break down all that remains of that shell of a man you love so ardently until even you can’t put the pieces back together.

When the three of you finally sit safely upon the transport is when he disappears in search of solitude to attempt meditation. You let him. These precious, quiet moments are all of the peace he can get in this lifetime.

His breath catches in that quiet, carefully controlled way that has come from years of learning to compartmentalize his emotions. That was one thing you’d always resent the Jedi for. Keeping you from properly being able to process things like a human being should.

When Obi-Wan’s breath catches as Anakin’s force presence through a fractured bond tries to overwhelm him, you are there to be his peace.

“My love,” You murmur, running your hand across the expanse of his shoulders. “You cannot keep doing this to yourself. It is simply the worst type of torture to hang onto this.”

Obi-Wan catches your hand to kiss your fingertips. A feeble attempt at a distraction. “I believed that bond to have been broken on Mustafar,” He said quietly. “I was wrong.”

It isn’t a lot to go off of but it does tell you one thing: Anakin Skywalker really is his curse. He’s been dead for years, but even now, Obi-Wan Kenobi cannot be rid of him. He lingers everywhere. In his mind. In his heart. In his daughter.

Poor, sweet Leia is far too innocent and naive to be tainted with the truth of who her real father really is.

“Have you slept since we started this?” You ask, to which he shakes his head. “You will.”

“Darling-”

Again you shake your head, holding your hand up to silence his rebuttal. “No, Obi-Wan. You seem to forget that when I married you I also made you the vow you made me.” Wide, vulnerable blue eyes shift upward to meet your own as you cup his face in your hands and run the pads of your thumbs across his cheeks. “It’s my duty and honor to protect you the way you’ve spent so many years protecting me. Allow me this. Please.”

He almost finds it in him to argue, to attempt some type of logic that justifies his reasoning for believing your argument is false, when he recognizes the silent plea on your tongue.

Obi-Wan acquiesces to your demand. It’s evident that you’re overjoyed by his submission because the minute he does, your aspect lights up and you’re surging forward to kiss him despite Leia lingering just around the corner with her newly repaired droid.

A broken moan echoes in the back of his throat as he presses closer. When he does allow himself the ability to be distracted by the warm, pliant form of your mouth, Obi-Wan’s shields unintentionally fall and allow you full ability to step inside.

That’s where you stand your ground from that point forward. Your Force Presence will always linger there in wait of the one who dares to try and bring him to his knees.

***

“Only when the eyes are closed can you truly see.”

“See what?”

“The Way.”

You know exactly what’s wrong as soon as he doubles over in the tunnels. Your husband’s hands scramble for purchase in your robes as debilitating pain echoes through the remains of a former force bond, breath coming in short and panicked as he struggles to keep his grasp on reality.

“Obi-Wan,” You say calmly as you turn around and place his hands on your hips while using your own to steady him. “Is he here?”

Obi-Wan nods. That’s all you need to know. He doesn’t need to say anything else.

You can see the shadow of his form down the street as you peer out the window. He is all darkness, bathed in the shadows of the night around him and the dark of The Force that clings to his very being.

That man is not the same one who used to be your son.

“My love, you need to take Leia and go-”

“No.”

Obi-Wan’s grasp is tight as he wrenches you backward and presses your shoulder into the wall. “I have already lost every piece of me that remains except you,” He snaps, and you are caught off guard by the bite in his words as you meet his eyes. “And I refuse to do so. Do you understand me? You take Leia and you go. I will be right behind you.”

Dread floods your veins as you nod. You can’t do anything else. You can’t cry out, you can’t fight him, all you can do is pray to the Maker that he will indeed keep that promise and come home.

Obi-Wan kisses you like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do before disappearing through the door that will lead him away to do the one thing he’s been fighting this entire time: Fighting Vader. Acknowledging who Vader really is.

“You have to help him. You know as well as I do he won’t be fine,” Leia argues as she yanks her hand from your grasp and stands tall in front of you in the tunnel like she’s preparing the rest of her inevitable argument. You’re struck by how much she looks and carries herself like Padmé. “And you might be the only one who can also keep up against that bad man. Please go. Defend him!”

Defend him.

A cyan lightsaber ignites the dark of the tunnels. “Cuyir morut'yc, kih solus.” You whisper, to which she nods - like she’s somehow understood what you said even though she didn’t - and continues with Tala down the tunnel.

When you leave, you don’t look back.

***

It’s difficult to catch Vader off guard. Nearly impossible. What he is not expecting in the midst of forcing Obi-Wan into the fire is the arc of the cyan saber - the mark of the healer, ironically enough - that effectively cuts through every single standing trooper around him.

The weapon flies back in Obi-Wan’s direction and lands in the hand of someone he swore had died during Knightfall.

‘’Ah, so you have come to defend your sworn husband at last.”

You roll your eyes and spin your weapon slowly in your hand. “Yeah, well... you did an osik job of it.” You snapped. “Try attacking him again, Vader. I will make you regret every moment of it.”

Then your saber is cutting through the tank to your right, and the world is one again illuminated by fire.

“Y/N!”

Tala’s presence sprints out of the dark as you bend down to collect your husbands body in your arms. “Get your transport ready, Tala,” You demand. “We need to get him to Jabiim.” Peering around both shoulders and her body, you frown at the lack of Leia’s presence. She’s not anywhere near you. “Where’s Leia?”

“She should be at the transport when we arrive. Let’s go, NED!”

The pair lead the way before you to the escape ship as you cradle Obi-Wan’s body to your chest and begin to follow them. He’s practically burning - both physically and mentally, every part of his Force Presence is ignited by the pain he undoubtedly feels over confronting his former Padawan - in your embrace, but the gentleness of your touch and the quiet nature of your words is enough to bring at least a modicum of comfort.

Obi-Wan Kenobi submits to your gentle prodding against poorly constructed walls and allows himself to sleep while you defend him.

Should Vader get in his way again, he knows you will be there to do what he can’t.

***

“He will be fine, you know. Bacta works wonders for burns.”

You snort and press your hands against the glass. He’s only just been put in there - even more quickly then usual as the demands of a former medic really do work - and has only just succumbed to the severity of his injuries.

“He may be fine physically,” You call out in response, eyes closed and hands pressed to either side of the glass as you slowly sink deeper into The Force. “But mentally, I am his only defense.”

Tala doesn’t talk again after that. Realizing what you are doing, she leaves you alone with your thoughts and the soft hum of the bacta tank as it works to heal your husband’s burns.

“The years have made you weak.”

You can see him standing there, submerged in his own tank somewhere far away where there is nothing but the comfort of his own rage and the pain he so often conceals beneath a suit of armor. A suit of armor that lives in place of the man who occupies it.

The armor is more alive then Anakin Skywalker ever was.

His body is riddled with scars both old and new. The scar tissue is raised in most places and leaves little of the original skin to be seen, and the limbs he lost during the battle on Mustafar are gone too.

He is more mechanics then man.

“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

Pressing harder, deeper, you wrap the Light around Obi-Wan’s flickering Force Signature and push.

Vader isn’t expecting that. Where he finds the cracks in his former Master’s chassis, he is instead met with steadfast resistance that screams, “He does not belong to you and The Dark.”

“Sh.... my love,” You whisper softly. Obi-Wan’s presence shifts from a startling, sharp gold to a muted, content blue as his thrashing slowly eases and his body becomes limp again. “I have you. Now sleep.”

While the battle of minds is fought, the war against the dark and the light threatening to consume him happens far, far away while Obi-Wan Kenobi sleeps.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi Wan Kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader #Obi-Wan x Reader #Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader #Obi Wan x Reader #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars oneshots #Star Wars fanfic #Star Wars fanfiction

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mushrubes · 1 year

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Star wars universe masterlist

Masterlist | Prompts

Key -

❀ - Fluff

✮ - Angst

❦ - Most popular

I - Imagines

P - Preferences

S - Series

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Din Djarin -

- You (i) - ✮ + ❀

- Proud of you (i) - ❀

- Keldabe Kiss (i) - ✮ + ❀

- Jedi (i) - ✮ + ❀

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Luke Skywalker -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Anakin Skywalker -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ahsoka Tano -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Princess Leia -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Obi Wan Kenobi -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Han Solo -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Padme Amidala -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Rey -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Kylo Ren -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tharan Cedrax (swtor) -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Zenith (swtor) -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Felix Iresso (swtor) -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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solarpoweredwings · 8 months

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Star Wars Fanfics will be linked here!

Fics:

Oneshots:

Drabbles:

Imagines:

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aemvnd · 16 days

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𝒶.skywalker. ┆ belonging.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ first time writing for anakin in a min …n yes it's a modern au . <3 be kind, pls. !!!

anakin skywalker is a naturally dominant man, and we all know that, but, when you're sitting in his lap, like just now, all pretty and your glossy lips all pouty and kissable, doe-like eyes all innocent and dreamy, anakin cannot help but want to have you, to possess you, to own you in every way possible—completely.

he craves you, desperately, day and night, every second of every waking moment, and his dreams, they're so vivid—they're of you, because of course they are, and you're so beautiful, so perfect, the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, or will ever know.

anakin knows he must have you, giving the sweet-smelling skin of your pulse point a soft, tender kiss, knowing you're a sensitive little thing, but he doesn't care, doesn't care that you whine and playfully swat at his thick, muscular arm, and he just wants you to understand, to understand that you belong to him—that you've always belonged to him.

"anakin," you mewl girlishly, so soft and sweet and naïvely beautifully, he cannot stand it, and he gives you a small, lazy smirk, his blue eyes sparkling as they slightly gaze down at you, watching you, watching your expressions as he wraps his strong, masculine arms around your waist, tugging you closer against himself on his lap, wanting to see how you'd react.

anakin loves your little reactions, always so shy and sweet, it makes him smile, how bashful you become around him, how you try to act as if your little cunt isn't quivering at just the mere sight of him, knowing your panties were already soaked with your sweetness, just waiting for him to lick you clean, happily and eagerly.

and anakin is more than happy to help you, to help relieve you, to relieve that ache you feel, and he wonders if you ever touched your sweet little pussy—good girl that you're, he doubts it, but he wouldn't know, you don't like talking about such 'naughty things' as you like to say, always too bashful around him to speak such lewd words aloud.

anakin has no such qualms, he enjoys discussing how he wishes to devour your sweet little pussy, to fuck you until you're numb and too dumb to speak, your limbs weak and needing his help to do basic things, like bring you snacks or bathe you—he'd do anything for you if you'd only ask, and even more.

"what's wrong, baby?" anakin croons lovingly, raising a large, tan-skinned hand and gently curling two long, calloused fingers under your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him, making your belly flutter with a swarm of butterflies—and anakin cannot help but smile wolfishly, chuckling softly as he can feel the way your body trembles in his lap, needy and wanting, and if you'd only ask, he'd give you what you so desperately crave, what you need.

all you need to do is ask, and anakin skywalker is more than willing to provide that relief for you, in any way you desire—he is yours, yours to command, just as you belong to him.

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bruisedboys · 4 months

Note

could you do anakin looking after you while ur drunk or high 🫠

hi honey yes I absolutely can!! sorry for any inaccuracies in this, I don’t drink and I actually have not watched a star wars movie in months 😭

anakin skywalker x fem!reader

“Give me a kiss,” you say. ‘Demand’ would be the more accurate word. Anakin’s eyes blow wide.

“What?” He asks through a startled laugh, more shocked than anything. You’ve been home all of thirty seconds and you’re already all over him. He’s never trusting Ahsoka with you again, he decides.

“A kiss,” you say again, like it’s obvious. You tilt your chin up towards him, chest flush with his. “I want one. Please?”

Anakin blinks. “Sure,” he says, properly dumbfounded. He leans down and kisses you. The taste of liquor on your mouth is strong. Your lips are sticky and warm.

You make a pleased humming noise against his mouth and screw your fingers into his collar. Anakin has to pull back lest he get carried away. You chase his lips, eyes half lidded. When you realise the kiss is over, they blink open as if your eyelashes have been glued together.

“You taste like a minibar,” Anakin tells you fondly. He slides his hands from your shoulders to your elbows. “How much did you have to drink exactly?”

Your brows furrow and your nose scrunches. “Don’t know. Not that much. Like, five?”

“Five what?” Anakin asks, a bit horrified.

Your face scrunches even more, like the effort of remembering is gruelling. A few seconds pass and then,

“I can’t remember,” you admit, forlorn.

Anakin rolls his eyes. You’re hopeless. He’s going to have a word with you in the morning about limits. Admittedly, he should’ve talked to you before you left with Ahsoka, but he was too distracted by your pretty going-out outfit. It’s all rumpled now, and your hair’s falling out, but you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Right,” he says, half amused and half exasperated. “Well, how about I get you some water, hm? You look like you could use something that’s not laced with alcohol.”

You don’t answer, but you also don’t protest as he guides you over to the sofa. ‘Guides’ is being generous. He’s practically carrying you. He doesn’t mind, even though you’re dead weight in his arms. He sits you down and goes to move away but you cling to him, your hands hot at his hips.

“Y/N,” he says, exasperated. He’s glad you’re half-cut so you don’t notice how much your needy touching affects him. “C’mon, trouble. Let me go.”

You pout at him. “Can I have another kiss?” You ask, looking awfully hopeful. He’s sure you’re making your eyes like that on purpose, all shiny and pretty, nothing short of captivating.

“After you’ve had some water,” he promises, practicing some restraint for both your sakes. He covers your hands with his and eases them off his hips. “Sit pretty, okay?” He leans over and cups your warm cheek briefly. “I’ll be back.”

You give him a sticky sweet smile as he leaves. He fills a glass for you with cold water and ice in the kitchen. When he returns you’re exactly how he left you, if not somehow prettier.

“Here, sweetheart,” he says, handing you your water. He keeps a hand under your glass while you drink, worried you’ll drop it, but you’re very careful and you finish half the glass in a few big gulps.

When you’re done smile at him, lips shiny with condensation. “Kiss now?” You ask adorably.

Anakin gives in. He can’t say no when you’re asking like that. He bends at the waist to kiss you, one hand under your chin, one making sure you don’t drop your drink. You respond with startling enthusiasm, pushing up into his kiss eagerly, your hands grabbing at his waist and pulling him between your legs. Anakin laughs like mad and draws back.

“Sweetheart,” he says, chiding. He holds one hand to your cheek to stop you from continuing your chase for his mouth. “Don’t.”

You frown around his palm. “Why not?”

“You’re really quite drunk, if you haven’t noticed,” he tells you, amused and lovesick at the same time. He drags a line down your jaw with his thumb. “Do you have a headache, honey?”

You shake your head viciously. Anakin thinks if you didn’t have a headache before he asked, you probably do now.

“No,” you say primly.

Anakin hums. You’ll have one in the morning, probably. Though he hopes if he can get enough water in you tonight it’ll hopefully make things better for you when you wake up tomorrow.

He tucks some of your hair behind your ear where it’s come loose. The smile you give him in return is blinding.

“Finish your water, sweet girl,” he says, fonder than fond. “Then I’ll help you get changed and we can go to bed, how does that sound?”

You make a pleased sound as you bring your glass to your mouth. Anakin can guess well enough what it means.

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

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bits-and-babs · 7 months

Note

could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian 👀 preferably touch starved din

✦ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED

din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.

cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX ⇾

Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.

Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, you’d spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping.

In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. He’d let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions.

In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mando’s leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mando’s search for the bounty. It’s cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you can’t see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close… So you place your palm on Mando’s shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view.

You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers.

Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorian’s stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.

It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.

You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to ‘check the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journey’. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.

"Please, please fucking touch me,” Mando’s voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.”I can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mando’s head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk.

“It feels like you’ve missed me,” you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.

“M–Missed you so much,” he admits, and you’re almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, “Hah– Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.”

Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you.

The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds.

“Fuck–” He growls, practically choking on his own voice, “C–Can’t!”

“It’s okay,” you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, “We can do it again…”

Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mando’s lungs. It’s so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet.

Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth.

Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. You’re so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated man– but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control.

Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mando’s head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow down– swallow around him.

“Hoh-Fuck–! Stars,” he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mando’s trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs.

“Your mouth– hah–” he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. You’d stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. “It’s so good…”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, “So is yours. Put it to use and taste me?” You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

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decembermidnight · 27 days

Text

Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him.

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again.

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen.

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus.

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate.

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.” You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected. The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his.

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on.

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man.

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most.

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you.

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close.

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants.

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body.

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear.

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina."

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him.

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock.

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure.

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels.

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that.

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts.

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine."

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan.

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

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webslinger-holland · 2 months

Text

Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

#the bad batch #the clone wars #tech bad batch #tech x reader #tech x y/n #tech x you #star wars #the marauder ship #tech oneshot #tech fluff #tech angst #tech imagine #hunter #crosshair #omega #wrecker #echo #tech

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iburnedmyselfalive · 3 months

Text

YOUR MESS

somethin' short to make up for my absence <33

NSFW! -- Dialoge prompt - @airaibunny !

Anakin Skywalker skillfully moved his two fingers within you with an intense rhythm, causing you to tightly hold onto him.

"don't you stop squeezing around 'em, don't you stop," he whispered, playfully curling his fingers, eliciting a loud moan from you.

"yeah? that's what you like huh?" he chuckled.

With eagerness, you nodded, craving more, your legs trembling from the intense sensation.

"Say it," he hissed, seemingly attuned to your thoughts as one hand traversed your body to playfully slap your breast, prompting a whimper from you.

"I want more, Ani," you whined, a hint of desperation in your tone, causing a satisfied grin to spread across his face.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, deliberately slowing down, curling his fingers deeper and hitting your sweet spot.

"Mm, I want it so bad," you exclaimed, tugging on his gorgeous locks.

"Yeah?" he gasped, breathless, before hushing your moans with a fervent kiss, exploring down to your neck and adorning it with affectionate marks.

"Tell me you want to cum," he demanded, delivering a sharp slap to your cheek that made your thighs involuntarily clench. With one swift motion, he forced them apart.

"I want to cum ani," you cried out, gazing at him with pleading puppy dog eyes, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"Pathetic, my fingers have you whimpering like a desperate bitch, can only imagine the effect my cock would have on you?" he sneered.

His words had you in a whirlwind, repeatedly moaning his name as if it were a chant. Your hand instinctively moved down to meet his wrist, whimpering and squirming within the limits of your ability, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Mm, s’too much ani! Too much!" you cried out, attempting to close your legs, but he forcefully kept them open.

"Take it," he growled, spitting down at your clit before bringing his thumb up to rub fast circles over the sensitive little nub.

And that's what pushed you over the edge – his explicit talk, the touch of his fingers, all of him. The approach of your climax was undeniable, legs shaking, eyes rolling, back arching as you clung to his wrist for dear life. You wanted him to stop, yet at the same time, you didn't want him to cease; it was an exquisite paradox, overwhelming in its intensity.

"Fuck" you cried out, the sensation continuing even after you climaxed. Kneeling down, he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, eagerly cleaning up the delicious mess he had orchestrated.

"Suck," he demanded, locking eyes with you.

"Clean my fingers; this is your mess," he said, presenting his fingers to your mouth. Obeying his command, you brought the two digits into your mouth, sucking and licking them as he instructed.

Your compliance earned you a kiss on your sensitive cunt; he grinned mischievously before enveloping your clit with his lips. It made you whimper as you tried to push him away, but the vibrations of his chuckle only intensified your reaction.

Seeing his chin adorned in your juices was a sight you never wanted to part with – he looked incredibly sexy.

"What's the matter, baby? Hmm, too sensitive for my tongue?" he cooed at you, teasingly.

You whimpered, shaking your head in denial.

"No?" he asked, briefly pulling away before spreading your legs as far as they could go and diving back in with fervor. His tongue worked tirelessly on your pussy, his eyes locked onto yours, never breaking the gaze.

He reveled in observing your reactions, your mouth forming an 'o' shape in response. Sitting up, he placed one hand on you, coercing you to recline as he continued his passionate exploration.

"That feels so good," you cried out to him, squirming as you sensed your second orgasm approaching faster than expected.

He inserted a finger into you once more, his tongue skillfully circling around your clit.

Your scent drove him wild, making him crave you for every meal conceivable – breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He yearned to pleasure you as if he had been starved for years.

"Such a delectable pussy," he mumbled, sucking on your clit, creating a satisfying 'pop' sound.

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unofficial-writing · 28 days

Text

Little Clan

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, topics of pregnancy, sickness, etc.

Summary: You recently found out you’re pregnant and you have to tell Din

Word count: Like 700

Translation: Mesh’la (MAYSH’la) - “Beautiful”, Ad’ika (ah-DEE-kah) - “Little one”

༺═────────────═༻

You’d been wrecked for the past few days. Spending so much time in bed or throwing up had taken a toll on you, causing your mental state to drop as well and make you more emotional than usual.

Din of course tended to you as if you were dying. He brought you food, did your hair, and basically just stayed with you all day. it wasn’t until today that he had to leave the Razor Crest for a couple of hours. He was hesitant but you insisted you would be just fine.

Up until early that morning, you thought it was just a particularly difficult sickness. But a thought climbed into your mind, which wouldn’t leave until you answered to it. And about an hour ago, you confirmed it. you were pregnant.

There were mixed feelings. How would Din feel about it? you didn’t even know how you felt. You knew Din and you knew he wouldn’t be upset, but it was a subject you never talked about before.

You took a few deep breaths to keep yourself from getting overwhelmed. Now sitting on the floor of the ship, you stared into a strip of metal that was clean enough to see your reflection in. That’s where you had been for at least the past ten minutes. You stayed there, even after hearing the ramp door slide open.

A hand gingerly went to your stomach, turning your head to see your armored Din climbing the ramp and into the ship.

Without greeting him, you turned back to the makeshift mirror, hearing him set Grogu down with a soft “There you go, buddy.” and raising the ramp.

Your heart picked up pace as he approached you, jumping to every possible negative outcome. Most of which were pretty far fetched.

His helmet tilted just slightly to the side. He knew you well enough to know when something was wrong, even on top of an illness. And you were terrible at hiding things from him.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He kneeled beside you and spoke as softly as he could through a modulator. When met with silence, he removed his helmet and scooped you up, setting you on his cot.

“You can tell me, mesh’la” He assured, lifting a hand to the side of your face. You met his eyes, which gazed back at you with gentle worry.

You sighed. Why were you so scared to tell him? This was Din, your Din who loved you and had no problem reminding you. You savored his touch on your face, feeling his thumb brush over your cheek.

“Din, I-” You started hesitantly. “Im pregnant.” His face changed from concern to shock. Which was rightfully so because you may have just dropped the biggest news on him he’d ever heard.

You’ve never heard him stutter before, but he did then. “Y-you’re what?” He responded. You thought at first he really was upset, but then his expression changed again. A smile started building on his face, bringing the rest of his features following suit.

“You’re not joking with me?” He asked, putting his hands on your shoulder. He now sported a huge smile. You haven’t seen him look like this in a long time. It made your heart absolutely leap.

You shook your head. “No, of course not.” you giggled. Din pulled you into him, pressing tender kisses to the side of your head. He now held you delicately, as if you were fragile now that you were carrying his child.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his neck where you stayed for a long time. “We’re going to have a child, Din.” you finally said, muffled against his neck.

“Our ad’ika.” he replied softly, giving a kiss to the top of your head. Your smile grew. Your little clan would soon have another addition. and both of you were no less than thrilled about it.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #oneshot #din djarin x female reader #din djarin one shot #mandolorian one shot #star wars fanfiction #star wars

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morganas-pendragons · 1 year

Text

There Is Quiet | Commander Cody and Phantom

tag: @generic-geek-girl @erishimoon @social-mockingbird

part one - fox

***

b e f o r e

He married you. He married you, his quiet Phantom, under the flickering lights of Seventy-Nines with his closest brothers as his witnesses.

You'd made a sacred vow to the Marshal Commander of the 212th. A commandment. A promise.

He married you.

And now he was trying to kill you.

It doesn't make any sense. The last thing you had talked about was this quaint little apartment on the Upper Levels of Coruscant that he wanted to buy after the war was over. It always came back to that.

After the war is over.

Nothing was ever over.

The last thing you had talked about was the home you'd have after the war, and now you were falling falling falling down the enormous pit that composed the center of Utapau's main colony and into the water's below.

You were too busy trying to comprehend the fact that the clones had shot you and Obi-Wan off of Boga to realize that the water was coming closer.

Everything hurt the minute you both made impact.

The Force is writhing as you emerge from the water in search of Obi-Wan. His Force Signature is dark, damaged, like he's in physical and emotional pain and can't quite make out why the Force is permeated by such anguish.

You can echo that sentiment.

"Where's the Knight?"

You weren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be on Coruscant, but Obi-Wan had said you would be invaluable for this mission and would be able to oversee the 212th if anything happened to him. You worked as well together as he and Anakin did.

You weren’t supposed to be here, and now you’re going to die here.

Every molecule in your body freezes at the sound of the clone's voice. You don't have any recognizable factors to use in order to ascertain who it is. The armor is the same 212th gold as the rest of your boys. There's no special markings to help you recognize him.

What you do recognize is the man who emerges from behind him. You're quick to lower yourself deeper into the water, keeping your breathing quiet as you watch from around the edges of a large rock.

It's Cody. The armor matches, the voice matches, the Force Signature matches.

"I gave the order to shoot her down, soldier," Cody's voice is sharp, calculated. It doesn't sound anything like the man you left only mere days ago with the whispered promise of a future that seems further and further away. "We're under order from Lord Sidious to ensure the bodies of the Jedi are found. Get looking."

Lord Sidious? Who the Kriff is Lord Sidious?

All you're left with are more questions then answers as your survival training kicks in and you're forced to flee the scene in search of your Master. You need to get back to your ship. Get back to the ship, find Obi-Wan, and get the kriff off of this god-forsaken planet.

Padawan-mine. Listen to me.

Your arms are aching by the time you finally drag yourself onto land. Your lightsaber is, thankfully, still attached to your hip. It might be your only saving grace in this situation.

The Vode are not themselves. Cody is not himself. Whatever this is, we will fix it. I swear it. Meet me at the upper east-side landing platform. It's time to flee.

You don't have the heart to grace him with a reply. With a heavy heart, you slowly begin creeping through the lower levels until you're graced with an elevator that leads you to the top.

The moment the doors shut, you break. You can't help it. It feels ridiculous to have once been that Padawan who believed in spoken promises of forever inside of a bar on Coruscant where you'd committed your life to the man you love.

It feels ridiculous to have hoped for something better.

***

This is how it feels to be CC-2224, former Marshal Commander of the GAR and the 7th Sky Corp. Former Marshal Commander of the 212th and husband to Obi-Wan Kenobi's second Padawan, Phantom.

You're plagued by memories of things that become more difficult to recall as time passes following Operation Knightfall. A mission to a droid foundry on Felucia. Fear. Panic. Safely being wrapped in Phantom's arms after finding out your Jedi General is dead. Stolen kisses in quarters on the Negotiator.

All of it seems so far away. Such a long time ago.

It doesn't matter though because it's not something you're ever going to get back. You are one of the highest ranking clones with a singular purpose: To glorify The Emperor and the name of the newly established Empire.

It doesn't matter what you used to call yourself. Cody, husband, friend, brother... None of that matters now.

You are a soldier even if the rest are marching far away. Your twin is dead. The clones are dead. So many clones are dead.

You're a soldier.

And you're meant to press on even if you no longer have the strength to do so.

This is how it feels to be formerly Cody, Commander of the 212th.

Numb.

***

One Year Later, Set During The Bad Batch 2x03

Obi-Wan did the one thing he promised never to do to you: He left you on your own. He left you on your own because Maker forbid he actually tell you that you mattered to him, Maker forbid he dare to love something again after the fall of Anakin Skywalker.

You don't blame him. You don't want to love anything again either. It's not worth it. Hurting because of that is not worth it.

When you, Yoda and Obi-Wan are forced to go your separate ways, he suggests giving up everything you've ever loved and stood for to become someone you aren't. To be rid of Phantom. To be rid of Cody.

Because getting rid of Phantom meant you were no longer the person Cody fell in love with, and that may as well have been the proverbial nail in your nearly finished coffin.

Obi-Wan went to Tatooine. Yoda went to Dagobah.

You went back to Coruscant and found your life on the lower levels until you found something else. It was fun, for a while. Being someone else. Leading a life to forget, even for a moment, about who you were.

The unfortunate truth is that you can never be rid of the core of who you are. And who you are is a Jedi. A Jedi with strict moral values and a compassionate heart that aches to free the clones under the servitude of the Empire.

Most of them don't know about the chips. It had taken a while for you to learn, but through the Rebellion network - and Dove, who you had cried upon reuniting with even briefly - you'd learned the truth about Knightfall and why the clones had turned on you.

Why Cody had shot you both down.

You changed enough of who you were to become who you are now. A shadow. A Spectral. It's not much different from your skills as a Jedi, but it's made you a phenomenal spy.

And that's what's led you right here. Senior officer of the Empire assigned as oversight of the clone squadron now assigned to the mission on Dessix. You've gotten good with a blaster. You've always been good at negotiations, but Rampart has told you that you were tag-teaming this mission with another expert negotiator.

"You will meet him at the battlefield memorial."

There's about twelve hours left until you really have to depart, but you're drawn to go to the memorial anyway. Most of the active patrols are skeleton crews at that point, so nobody will actively be seeking you out.

That's what prompts you to arrive near midnight with the hood of what once was Jedi robes drawn over your head.

It's the make of the helmet that catches your attention. Your eyes are instantly drawn to the antenna on the side. It's the only indication that it's Cody's helmet because none of the vibrant 212th gold is present anymore. Everything he's wearing is a muted grey.

As he approaches - bathed in starlight and under the cover of darkness - the memorial, your Force Signature writhes as it reaches, reaches, reaches in search of his own. There is not a part of your very soul that will not recognize Cody when he is around.

You ache for him. You have always ached for him.

Cody's eyes are scanning the Aurebesh letters for the names of fallen brothers when he hears it. It's a low sound, soft and mournful, a whistling tone that Obi-Wan had taught Phantom during a campaign that could be used to signal troopers from far distances.

Only select people knew it. Obi-Wan, Cody, and you.

He already knew Kenobi was dead. That meant...

Peering into the dark, Cody whispered, "Ner kar'ta?"

Everything came to a screeching halt. That was his voice. Not the monotone, flat voice you’d heard after the impact in the waters of Utapau. It was your husband. Your Cody.

You whistled again, long and low, daring to peek out from behind the barrier to meet his eyes briefly before you took off in the direction of the dormitories. There had been whispers that the clones were being eradicated and replaced in favor of the ones they’d taken to calling Stormtroopers.

One of the commanders had remained though. He was their renowned. Their best of what used to be.

It made sense that it would be Cody.

You took off toward the dormitories in the direction of the higher ranking officers quarters. It was easy to cloak yourself. You’d spent the last year of being in the Empire doing so without any suspicions of being a Jedi.

You didn’t realize what Cody’s room was until you saw it. The barest mark of a rising sun painted in the upper right corner of the door. It was faded. Just another reminder of what the war had taken from you both.

Your fingers move of their own accord across the keypad. There’s only one code it could be.

The day of your wedding flashes on the keypad in front of you before the door slides open and you’re allowed inside. It’s sparsely decorated, as expected, because clones were not allowed to own anything now just like they had not been able to own anything during The Clone Wars.

Your Jedi had aimed to do things differently then. It’s a shame they’re all gone now. At the bare minimum, Cody should be allowed to own himself. To own the wedding ring he’d gone out of his way to find.

He doesn’t. He owns nothing. Not his mind, not his heart.

Nothing.

You’re left to your own devices as you survey the room, choosing to remain hidden by the window as you absently chew on your thumbnail and wait for the door to open. Anyone in the vicinity that dared to be close enough to you would know how nervous you were by the frantic pounding of your heart.

You were absolutely terrified. What if he didn’t love you anymore? What if he recognized you weren’t the same? What if he wasn’t the same?

Was loving Spectral any different than loving Phantom?

“Phantom.”

“That’s not my name anymore.”

He’s standing in the doorway by the time you’ve finally roused yourself enough to pay attention. He looks tired. So tired. There’s a perpetual heaviness that has never seemed to leave him in his gait as he walks into his quarters and locks the door before turning back to face you.

“The only person I’ve ever known to whistle that sound was Obi-Wan Kenobi’s former Padawan and himself. Considering he’s-” Cody swallows the knot in his throat as the image resurfaces, again and again, because it hasn’t left him once since it happened. “He’s gone. He’s gone, and you’re still here, and I don’t understand why. Not after what I did to you.”

You take the moment he chooses to talk to carefully nudge his Force Signature with your own. It’s a deep, mournful blue, closed off to anyone else who dare try to know him past the helmet he always wears. The armor is a means of protection, sure, but it’s also a way to keep himself safe from people who try to get inside.

You were the only one who had ever managed to claw your way into his heart.

“I know why you did what you did,” You say softly as you remove your hood to peer up at him. He’s close now. Close enough to touch. “And I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it, Kote.” Daring to jump over the precipice that stands between you, you reach out to press your hand to his chest.

His heart leaps at your touch. When was the last time he’d been touched that way? In any way that wasn’t hostile?

“It doesn’t matter,” He admits quietly. “I still have to live with those choices. I still have to live with the after.”

“What came after?”

It’s a long time before Cody answers, “Quiet. It was quiet.”

There isn’t a sound for a long time. There doesn’t need to be. You and Cody had always been good at communicating without words, and it seems the same can be said now even after so much time apart.

Your touch is gentle and reverent as you methodically call into the old habit of removing each piece of his armor until he’s left vulnerable in front of you. Cody’s hands tremble at his sides, unsure of where to find purchase, and he’s left to do nothing except watch as the stack of armor floats to the open spot beside the door.

“Cody,” Your voice shakes as you nudge the back of his knees and force him to sit on the couch so you can remove his boots. “I spent this whole year thinking that you were dead. It... It tore me apart. It tore me apart falling from the cliff and being left behind and thinking you were dead for a year. We made a commitment to each other. A vow.”

“I stopped thinking of myself as a man when I made the choice to give the order that shot you off of Boga,” Cody admitted quietly. “I broke that vow to you. I tried so hard, Phantom-Phantom, I tried-”

And it’s only because of the tell tale signs of an impending panic attack that you firmly place Cody’s hands on your hips, slowly easing yourself into the natural part of his legs where he sits on the sofa.

“I believe you. I believe you tried, and it’s okay. I would’ve loved you the way I do now even from the grave. It was never your fault.”

Hm. The vow is till death do us part. Cody is inclined to believe you.

“You would’ve loved me even then?”

You nodded and scooted closer to press your foreheads together in a attempt of a keldabe kiss. He shudders at the contact - it’s like fire spreading through his veins, a fire that is a most welcome burn after being cold for over a year - and leans inward as if his body is naturally seeking more of it.

“Even then.” You whisper.

It’s only through sheer confidence and an aching familiarity long built between you two that coaxes Cody into easing you into his lap. “How are we supposed to do this?” He croaked, dragging his fingers up your sides to tangle in your hair.

Despite the tightness in your chest, you smile. It’s a question he asked you many times under the cover of darkness of his former quarter’s on the Negotiator. Obi-Wan had never known the depths of quite how much his Marshal Commander had struggled with the weight he carried.

“What do you hear?” You ask.

Cody frowns. “It’s quiet.” He replies. “Very quiet. Usually is in this part of the dorms.”

You grin and lean forward, just barely hovering a hairs breadth over his own mouth. “Exactly. So embrace the quiet.”

The full body shudder he gives as you tug on his hair and slant his mouth against yours does not go unnoticed by you. Everything in Cody’s brain short circuits the moment you meet because he’s dreamt about this for over a year. There’s been so many different scenarios that plague his dreams.

This was one of them. And this one was one of the few that were good.

Groaning quietly into your mouth, you grin against the curve of the Marshal Commander’s lips and use the opportunity to tease the seam of his own and slip your tongue inside. He still tastes the same. Everything about him is still so much the same.

You know that even more so when he dares to deepen it. You used to be timid, shy. You used to let him take control because he was already in control of so little anyway, so why not let him have control over one thing that was purely his?

Now though.. you’re not that timid little Padawan anymore. Where Cody is fire - and he kisses like one that burns rageful - you are the sun. Stand too close and people get burned.

When you do finally find it in you to pull away, Cody’s head rolls and falls into the crevice of your neck. “I’m afraid, Phantom.” He murmurs. “I’m afraid we’re not going to make it out of this alive.”

It’s a legitimate fear. You’ve had that own fear so many times.

“Hey,” Your fingers slide up to the clasps around your neck to remove the second chain that has been sitting on your neck since you went into hiding. “Believe me, I understand that fear. That’s been my life for the last year. But I’m here now.” You lightly tapped the gold ring sitting on the chain and leaned inward to clasp it around his neck. “You have me.”

You have me.

Your fingers gently travel up and down the length of his spine as his body gradually relaxes into your own, absorbing as much contact as possible. “I love you.” Cody said quietly. “That may be the one thing that hasn’t changed.”

Eyes flicker to the window where the moon is at its fullest peak, shards of moonlight breaking through the curtains to fracture against the sharp plains of Cody’s face. You didn’t think it was possible for him to be any more beautiful then he is.

And it just makes you want him more.

“Cody?”

“Yeah.”

His fingers are beginning to skim under your officer’s uniform. Daring, teasing, like they’re threatening to go higher but remain unsure if the situation allows for it.

With that same tenacious spark of fire that’s always lingered in your eyes, you lean backward and take one hand into his own to firmly place it on the bottom of your shirt.

Hm. Maybe you really haven’t changed all that much.

“We never did quite get to consummate our wedding night,” You tease. ‘’You know. With the war and all.”

You have twelve hours until you deploy. You don’t even know if you’ll see him again after that, and then the loud buzzing and the ever-constant screaming in the Force will be your only constant companion again once the quiet,

Cody seems to get what you’re saying because the next thing he’s doing is dragging your body down onto the couch and covering it with his own.

“I like your thinking, wife.”

***

a f t e r.

It’s him that makes the choice to go AWOL. The early hours of the morning greet you before you can fully fall into the kind of sleep your body is aching for - Dessix was hard, harder then you’ve had in years, and attempting to act as if you aren’t fearful for Cody’s life when it’s nearly taken is the most difficult thing you’ve done - and you naturally rise with the gentle click of the lock as the door to your quarters opens.

You are running hand in hand with Cody less than an hour later. Getting around the patrols is not difficult, neither is procuring a vehicle, but there’s something oddly warm that settles in your chest once you are out of Coruscanti airspace and away from there.

Warm. It feels so warm. It takes you a minute to realize that it’s Cody. Cody, who used to wear sunshine gold and had gotten a tattoo of a rising sun on his hipbone the day after you’d gotten married - Maker, the sounds he made when you kissed it - and who had spent so long being warm, wrapped in the love of his brothers, that he’d forgotten what it was like to be cold.

The blue had shifted into a brilliant gold and only seemed to get brighter the longer you were around.

“So, Phantom.” Your husbands drawl is smooth and confident as he spins in the pilot’s chair to face you. There is not an echo of the traumatized, anguished man you had held the night before. You know he’s just lurking underneath the surface. Regardless, it’s still nice to see Cody smile. “Where to?”

“I’ll go anywhere you want,” You reply with a wink. “Just not home. You pick.”

“How about everywhere?”

“Everywhere sounds wonderful, rid’uur.”

This is how it feels to be Phantom, former Jedi Knight, defected Imperial Officer and spy.

Safe.

#Commander Cody #Commander Cody x Reader #The Bad Batch #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars oneshots

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daydream-cement · 8 months

Text

Suits and Hallways (NSFW)

Captain Phasma x Reader

Phasma notices you staring.

First weekend in Smutember with @alexusonfire! The first week prompt is formal wear!

When you were invited to attend the officer gala, you hadn’t been expecting to be put in such a position as this. With your pressed against the cold metal wall, you felt your dress being shifted upwards around your hips.

You had on your formal dress, putting your best foot forward to make an impression on your higher ups. You thought you had done so when Phasma approached you. Moments ago you had been summoned to the deserted hallway by your captain, and with a viscous degree of roughness, Phasma had you up against the wall.

“Your eyes have been wandering far too much. You are beyond obvious with those disgusting thoughts of yours.” Phasma hissed, her hands working into the waistband of your underwear. It was unceremonious - the way the captain pushed her fingers between your folds and felt her way to your clit.

“Wet already?

You could only whimper. This felt so wrong. This was so unbecoming of a person of your status in the Empire. But you gave yourself over entirely, unable to say no to the alluring and handsome captain. This evening, she had been wearing a formal captain’s uniform that made your mouth water. The jacket fit her muscular shoulders perfectly and her pants were cut tight enough that nothing was left to the imagination. Your gaze must have caught her attention.

“You’re so fucking pathetic.” Phasma whispered, pressing the pads of her index and middle finger against your clit to rub circles against the bundle of nerves. The pressure of Phasma’s hand against the side of your head only seemed to increase as the degradation continued.

Phasma growled once more, her body weight fully pushed against you. Her voice was low and guttural, almost as if she were angry with you. In reality, it was all just a way to make sure she held dominance over you. “Do you like this? Do you like being treated like a stupid little slut?”

You remained silent, but this was clearly not the response the captain wanted. She pushed your face against the metal harder and the intensity of it all made tears prick in your eyes.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like being treated like a- a stupid little slut…”

“That’s what I thought.”

The grip on your face loosened slightly as her fingers went back to work, circling your soaked clit with increased fervor. Her breath was hot in your ear as she panted slightly. If you could have see. her face, you would have seen the mild look of enjoyment plastered across her lips and brow.

The captain’s fingers worked their way back towards your slick heat and you gasped quietly as she wedged her fingers into your cunt. She offered you no time to adjust to her lengthy digits when she began pumping them in and out at a building pace.

Your little moans became more and more frequent. In spite of this, you attempted stifling them by clenching your teeth. When this failed, you drew a hand to your mouth and clamped your hand over it.

Phasma disapproved of this action and made her dissatisfaction known by releasing your head from her grasp and wrenching both of your hands behind your back. She held your wrists in a vice grip and began slowing her movements in your underwear, teasing you to the point you felt as if you could explode.

“P-please…” You begged Phasma, but she wasn’t interested in your pleas.

“You think you have the right to ask me for anything?” Phasma scoffed as her fingers left your cunt to wad the fabric of your underwear around her fist. There was the sound of seams popping and the discomforting pain that was Phasma ripping the fabric off your body. “Fucktoys don’t get a say.”

At the feeling of the cold night air against your pussy, you felt terribly exposed. Anyone could walk from the gala at any second and watch you being dominated by your captain.

Her fingers dove back into your cunt, pushing their way into your fluttering hole. The pleasure of being filled again had you doubling over - your forehead pressed to the cold metal wall while your hands were still ratcheted behind your back. Phasma began pounding your cunt with her fingers - the removal of your underwear was her way of removing the barrier that kept her from doing so earlier.

Your cheeks turned red when you thought you heard the slap of her hand against your cunt echoing through the empty hall. You were praying no one would find you, but first and foremost, you needed to cum.

“How long have you been wanting me to do this? Have you been watching me in the locker room? Or do you just fantasize about what’s under the armor? Is that why you can’t control yourself now?” From Phasma’s tone, one could tell she was smirking. She was so satisfied with herself for making another of her subordinates crumble.

“Y-you look so good in your suit…” You sob, unable to be dishonest about what drove you to stare.

“I know.”

The captain’s confidence was unbelievably sexy.

Suddenly, and without warning, you came hard, a strangled cry jumping from your throat. But Phasma wasn’t stopping there. Her rapid fingering continued, only now she released your arms and added her other hand to the mix. With her opposite hand, she began rubbing at your clit and you felt yourself losing all control.

“Silly little slut. What if the other lieutenants saw you like this? How would you feel?”

The captain was obviously trying to get a rise out of you, combining shame with your growing desire.

The skill held in her fingers made you dizzy. You knew if you ever had the chance to spend the night with her, Phasma would show you pleasures far beyond pushing you against a wall and fucking you silly.

As Phasma worked you towards another orgasm, a round of applause echoed from inside the gala hall. As much as you should have considered the possibility of someone exiting into the hall at any moment, you were far too focused on being pushed over the edge.

You finally came from Phasma slamming her fingers inside you, tipping you over the edge. Before you could process the blinding orgasm, Phasma growled, her hand squeezing your jaw into submission. “Open your mouth…”

You opened your mouth the rest of the way and quickly realized Phasma intended on spitting in your mouth. You allowed it to happen, regardless. At this point, your only goal was appeasing her to hopefully make this occurrence happen again.

“Now get back to your quarters and clean yourself up.” Phasma pushed your face away from hers, and swatted you firmly on the ass, sending you on your way.

“Y-yes, captain.” You mutter, sending your gaze to the floor. Quickly, you began down the hallway - your face growing redder and redder as the realization of what just occurred hit you.

Before you could round the corner, you glanced back at Phasma, unable to help yourself. Your breath caught as you watched her push your discarded underwear into her pocket. You tore your gaze away and hurried down the hallway - face bright red as you attempted to comprehend what just happened.

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @enchantressb , @renravens @scream-queenlover , @shyladyfan , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess , @larissaoftarthweems , @principal-weems09 , @imlike-so-gaydude , @emilynissangtr , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @oculusalien , @giogwensversion , @milciak @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 @bychrissi , @h-doodles , @alexusonfire , @weemssapphic

#captain phasma #captain phasma x reader #star wars the last jedi #star wars tfa #star wars #star wars the force awakens #gwen christie #gwendoline christie #fanfic #oneshot #captain phasma smut #smut #smutember

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lanaslovelyletters · 3 months

Note

Anakin is roommates with reader and has an addiction to smoking. Reader tries to help him with it and Anakin decided it’s not enough and wants something stronger. He thinks sex will help.

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠

Roommate!Anakin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (general smut), swearing, mentions of substance abuse (nicotine)

Summary: You’ve never had a great relationship with your roommate… one night you get home late and see him smoking. You remind him that smoking kills and although you hate him, you want to help him… it goes to rather drastic measures.

Word count: 3.2K+

Author’s note: Where did you get this idea??? I love it. Also, there are psychological terms being used here— I’m a Polisci and not a psych student and will be using terms I learned when I took AP Psychology sorry lol. Also, read the prompt as if it should be on the shorter side? So I made it as short as I could, hope it's good enough<3 (Btw this is def not beta read. We die like Padme on the table)

You never really got along with your roommate. He blasted loud music and often came home at odd hours of the night. God, you hated the careless way he lived his life. Hell, you didn’t even know what he did for work. He always paid his part of the rent on time, so you kept him around. Besides, there weren’t many other offers and he was willing to pay half.

On a particular night, you came back from an evening shift at the local mental health clinic. The bag that was lazily slung over your shoulder was dropped to the ground as you walked into the living room. There he was. His lips held a cigarette between them, as he strummed his bass. It was loud and obnoxious.

“Okay, Slipknot, could you turn that down a little?” You let out a heavy sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. He rolled his eyes at you, and took a drag of his cigarette, blowing rings in your face. It caused you to cough and waft it away immediately before you took it out of his mouth and put it out in his ashtray.

“What the hell! That was my last one!” He threw his arms up in the air as the smoke subtly settled in the glass.

“This stuff is a slow death, y’know?” You said with a tone that screamed ‘as a matter of fact’. He was clearly pissed at your actions.

“—and? Does it look like I care?”

“Look, I get that we don’t see eye-to-eye on things, and we’d both rather not be living together… but the only reason I’m willing to live alone without you is if you move out. Not if you die on this fucking carpet.” You clicked your tongue and pointed at the scruffy rug beneath your feet.

“Why do you even care?” He raised an eyebrow and scoffed at you. Yeah… why did you care anyway? The question stumped you for a brief moment before you finally thought of the perfect response.

“Who else is going to pay half the rent? Besides… I don’t want to clean up a cancerous body in my house.” You were still standing there in front of him with arms covering your chest.

“Whatever… I’ll try.” Wait. It was that easy?

“Wait, are you serious?” You were a bit surprised to see him nodding along and agreeing.

“Yeah, I guess. My mother would hate to bury her own son… or whatever…” He trailed off as he stared at the worn cigarette bud in the ashtray.

“I knew you had some sense in there.” You joked as you poked his forehead before leaving for the kitchen to make yourself a late dinner. Anakin followed you like a lost puppy, as you pulled out some fruits and readied a blender. He watched as you cut up the fruits neatly before you added them to the blender.

“Hey so—” he didn’t get to finish, because the blender started going.

“Oh sorry about that. What were you saying?” You stopped the blender for a second.

“What could—” The noise dialed back up again,

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckled and poured the mixture into a bowl with some yoghurt.

“Very funny,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he leaned forward in the barstool he sat in,

“No, but really— how am I supposed to beat the cig cravings?”

“Via Pavlovian psychology, of course.” You gave him a curt smile.

“I’m not a dog.”

“Didn’t say you were. Look, the hypothalamus controls cravings… sex and food mainly. This means— you can try replacing it with chocolate. Maybe carrots?” You mentioned and took a bite of your yoghurt mix.

“Yawn. Don’t like the sound of that.” He rested his face against his palm.

“There’s a thing we do down at the clinic… for alcoholics mainly. We slip something disgusting or nauseating into their drink and they’ll associate drinking with this icky feeling… works like… most of the time… sorta…” You shrugged and took another bite.

“Right… well there’s just the problem of— I’m not an alcoholic and you also said that only works some of the time,” he said. His elbow dug into the table as it supported his heavy head.

“Why do you smoke anyway?”

“Stress. Smoking calms me down after a long day.” His sigh was heavy and rough.

“Well then, something to destress whilst also eliminating your addiction… I really think something like chocolate would work.” By now, you’d finished your bowl and you put it aside to wash later.

“Yeah… whatever. I guess it’s better than nothing.” He got up from his stool and went straight into his room. Something told you he wouldn’t survive the first week without a cigarette…

A week had gone by fairly quickly and he hadn’t smoked since the night you lectured him. However, he ate chocolate in unreal masses. Even then, as he was sitting on the couch this afternoon, he had bought a pack of cigarettes. Referred to them as ‘emergency cigs’. Just in case. He stared at the packaging, letting his thumb trace over the ‘M’ in ‘Marlboro’. Oh, he was so tempted. Just one drag and he’d feel the relaxation settling in his shoulders and the sounds of birds chirping and children laughing in the streets. Just one won’t hurt. He peeled the plastic film off and opened the lid. He could already feel it against his lips. Just one—

“What the fuck, Anakin.” You came up from behind him and took the pack out of his hands. He groaned as you did so, desperately grasping for it.

“You were doing so great with the chocolate, why the hell did you buy these?!” You spat and hid them in your back pocket.

“The chocolates didn’t work well enough. I need more. I need something better.” He complained and sighed, leaning back on the couch.

“Fine. I’ll go out and buy you some nicotine patches. Just promise me you’ll kick this habit, okay?” You rolled your eyes and went outside to the garbage bins. You threw the brand new pack of cigarettes in there and wheeled it out front.

When you got back inside, Anakin had already left for his room. The two of you had an established set of rules, one of which was to not enter each other's rooms unwarranted. If any of the patients at the clinic taught you anything, it was that addiction was hard to beat. No matter what kind it was. As much as you despised having to live with him, he didn’t deserve to die an early death because of something he couldn’t control.

“Anakin?” You knocked on the door gently, but there was no response.

“Come on, man.” The knocking became a little more frantic, but there was still no answer.

“Whatever.” You walked away and found your purse before heading back outside to uphold what you said you’d do earlier.

After you got back, you heard him watching something on the TV. It was a car commercial for a new Ford model.

“Catch.” You got in front of the screen and threw him the packs of nicotine patches you’d bought. He peered up at you with lazy eyes and slowly unpacked one. You hadn’t really taken note of it before, but he was fucking hot. His hair was messy and his body was chiselled. He was shirtless and only in a pair of very unforgiving sweatpants.

“Thanks…” he mumbled and stuck a patch on his chest.

“Feel better?”

“Don’t know yet.” You took a seat beside him and cast Netflix to the screen,

“Anything you wanna watch?”

“Nah… I’m good.” He seemed as if he was giving up. He was all sluggish from not having had a cigarette.

“Okay…” you turned off the TV to sit and soak in the uncomfortable silence. Nobody said a word for at least a few minutes before Anakin finally spoke up,

“It feels okay… just… doesn’t beat the real thing.” Your head turned to look at him as he said that.

“I’ve tried everything, okay? I have tried to help you. For some reason, you always need more. What more could you possibly want?” You sighed and brought your knees to your chest.

“You said… the hyper something? was responsible for sex and food cravings, right?”

“The hypothalamus, yeah. That’s why we tried chocolate.”

“That’s food… what about… sex?” He took a gander at you with those intoxicating tired and beat eyes.

“Like… jerking off? I mean, maybe?” You shrugged.

“No, sex,” he said, staring right at you.

“Oh… well… knock yourself out, I guess? You have a girlfriend?”

“What about you?” He moved closer, still staring deeply into your eyes. His velvety blue ones captured your very soul with just their existence.

“I’m… um… I don’t have a boyfriend…” you swallowed harshly as he leaned into your neck. His breath hit your ear,

“I’d say that’s pretty convenient, no?” He grinned, letting you feel the electricity surging through your spine. You shuddered before swallowing hard,

“What are you insinuating, Anakin?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I need something better than chocolate. Something better than nicotine patches. I can’t just sleep with random girls every day and hope I won’t get an STD. You are single, and I’m guessing you don’t have any weird illness.” His smirk was evident, even if he was practically buried in your neck.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Anakin.” You sighed but didn’t resist his antics.

“Mmm ‘don’t think so. I have a pretty great plan mapped out in my head.” He began to nibble away at your skin, several sighs escaped your lips as he did so,

“Anakin…”

“Yeah, that’s right. Say my name just like that.” He ravaged your neck now, littering it with bruises and marks. He pulled away briefly and got up from the couch, taking your hand in his as he helped you up. Almost immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. He pushed you up against the cold wall, clawing at your waist,

“Jump.” You did and he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He then carried you to his room, where he roughly threw you on the bed. Your breaths were heavy and he swallowed up every single one with his mouth. His tongue massaged yours as his hands massaged your clothed tits.

“Anakin—“

“Ani. Just Ani.” He captured your lips again. He loved those pretty little whimpers and gasps you’d make. It drove him wild. The way your hands were pulling at his hair as your lips desperately reached out for his… It was like a drug.

He pulled off his shirt and helped you get yours off too. You unclasped your bra, and he revelled in the sight. They were fucking perfect in his eyes. The embarrassment on your face as he stared only made him more hungry. He unbuckled his pants, pulled them down and discarded them somewhere in a corner. Shortly after, he got yours off too. Your panties were damp and when his two fingers went to investigate, he just had to point it out to you— essentially mocking you.

“Look who’s getting so worked up when I’ve barely even done anything?” He scoffed. The mocking only worked to turn you on even more, and the face you made gave it away almost immediately. Dumb mistake or was it served on a silver platter?

“Don’t tell me you get off on that,” he snickered and massaged your hips, one hand worked its way further down and ripped your panties off.

“Hey, those were expensive…” you mumbled, but he didn’t care. The whole house could catch on fire and he wouldn’t give a fuck, because he was here with you.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He placed his thumb on your clit, slowly rubbing circles. You clenched the sheets with whatever little power you had left. Even with gestures as small as stroking your sopping cunt, you were at his disposal. Through and through.

As it got more intense, he added a finger, then two then went ahead and added a third— finger fucking you until you went cross-eyed, flicking as hard as he could. Your cries and moans were like music to him. Better than whatever garbage he played anyway.

“All for me? You spoil me, darling.” Fuck, that sent you toppling over the edge, clamping down eagerly on his fingers. With a final moan of his name, he felt your essence coat his fingers. After pulling them out, he licked and sucked them clean,

“You taste fucking heavenly. Better than the chocolate, that’s for sure.” He pulled you by the hips and kneaded them nicely, listening to how you panted like the needy little thing you were. One hand slowly travelled up to take a squeeze at your nipple before travelling back down. His hand grabbed the base of his cock as it rubbed against your sensitive folds. Fuck, he was good, but you were growing impatient. Surely bucking your hips would work?

“Fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you?” He mocked you and snickered. It was embarrassing. Downright humiliating. Yet you relished in it. Oh, you needed him so bad your ovaries were going to explode.

“Come on… Anakin,” you mewled and arched your back.

“It’s Ani, darling.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, still teasing your needy folds,

“Now, let me hear you again.”

“You’re embarrassing me…” you diverted your gaze and turned her head to the side. It was clear as day to see that your face was completely flushed.

“That’s the point,” he scoffed and grabbed your chin roughly,

“Come on, you can do it, can’t you? Be a good girl, tell me what you want.” Good girl. You folded almost immediately.

“Please… just do it.”

“Come on now, you can do better than that,” he snickered. His relentless teasing just egged you on even more.

“Please, Ani. Please fuck… fuck me,” you sighed with exceptional need, as you arched your back.

“Don’t think I heard that… a little louder?”

“Fuck me, Ani! Fucking take me!” Your desperation was clear in your tone and the way your brows were furrowed. You were pathetic to look at, and oh how he loved it.

“That’s my girl.” He leaned down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, as you felt him finally intrude your walls. He swallowed every moan you made and even drowned them with his tongue. His size was unthinkably big. There was one protruding vein in particular. The way your walls clamped around it, allowed you to feel it from its start to its end. He wasn’t completely uncivilized though. He allowed you to adjust to his size before moving even a millimetre. In the meantime, he sucked at your skin, twisted your nipples, and moulded your breasts. By now, there wasn’t one spot on your neck that wasn’t bruised. As these appeared one after the other, the pain from his cock invading your insides slowly mingled with pleasure.

“You can move…” He did exactly that. As if it were a command typed into a computer. He almost pulled all the way out, before slamming himself against your hips roughly and sighing out your name.

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he groaned as he wasted no time bringing your knees up against your chest, as he began to pound into you. His pace wasn’t too fast, but rough enough to earn those ethereal moans of yours.

“Fuck, scream for me. Scream my name. Let the whole block hear you,” he sighed, speeding up his pace, rutting against you like a heathen. It was fucking filthy. He watched as every inch of himself disappeared inside you, massacring your insides with no mercy. Every pant and every moan contributed to his head falling back in pleasure, as he drove his hips vigorously against yours.

“Ani!” His name left your lips repeatedly like a broken record. He was fucking you completely stupid. What day was it? What time was it? What was your own name? Your cock-drunk self had only one thing in mind: Anakin Skywalker.

“Fuck, I’m close!” You panted as he thrust with even greater speed and strength. He was relentless and unforgiving.

“That’s right. Cum for me. Cum on this cock, baby,” he groaned as you started clenching down on him. He was struggling to move with the tightness but didn’t give up that easily. His tip hit your cervix repeatedly and you felt like your guts were being rearranged.

Finally, you couldn’t handle it anymore and you tipped over the edge,

“Ani!” You fell limp, but Anakin was far from done. He pulled out, only to get next to you and pull you into his lap. His face was flushed. His eyes were hooded and his lips parted. His hands were kneading your hips,

“Ride me.” What? You had no means. You were limp and tired from the pounding you just got. Now he’s trying to go for another round? But oh, how you wanted it. You wanted so badly to feel him again. To feel a new angle of him. Quite literally speaking.

With whatever strength you could muster, you slowly sank down on him, taking him by each delicious inch. It was far too much for you though, your arms immediately gave out and you fell on top of him. That was no issue though; he helped you. He grabbed your hips tightly and thrust upwards. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with pleasure. You’d never been fucked that food before. Anakin let his face get buried in the soft mounds in front of him, as he arched your back for you. He was determined to make you finish for the third time in the evening, before finishing himself.

“Doing so good for me, baby, you’re doing such a good job.” He continued to drag your hips down upon his, but with one hand, he slowly let go and pressed it against your abdomen,

“You feel that? That’s my cock ruining you.” This man… your words were illegible by now. He removed his hand from your stomach and stretched the corner of your mouth with two of his fingers,

“You’re so pathetic like this. Where’s the smartass now?” He was right. He was fucking you into oblivion. You couldn’t even fully comprehend what he was saying anymore. You just whined and moaned at him. Just like the good girl, you were being for him. The overstimulation didn’t help. In fact, you were already getting close again. Your pussy was suffocating him and his drags were getting sloppier and sloppier— until he finally got you to release on top of him. He pulled you for a few more thrusts before pulling you off, having you fall backwards on the bed so that he could paint your stomach white.

The two of you both panted heavily as he fell back. It felt like you were going to pass out from the exhaustion.

“Beats the nicotine and cigarettes,” he sighed with a snicker. His eyes were fixated on the white ceiling above,

“So does tomorrow work too?”

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