#there's a GALAXY'S worth of stories to be told

[americankimchi]

god i wish they hadn't retconned maul's death. i get wanting to explore more of his character because he was, objectively, one of the coolest star wars characters to ever hit the big screen and didn't get much screentime prior to his death, but also his role was fulfilled perfectly within those constraints so i wasn't too upset by it.

but by retconning it and making it so he never died it's like. okay. what now? the whole point (well, to me, ymmv of course) of the theed generator fight was that it was the first ever fight between the jedi and the sith in thousands of years, and that in the end even though the jedi (obi-wan) won the fight, a jedi (qui-gon) and a sith (maul) still died. a master and an apprentice dying together to herald the start of a new age/the return of the sith. perfectly paralleling the way in rotj a master (palps) and an apprentice (anakin/vader) died together to herald the return of the jedi. in both instances, a father figure (qui-gon/vader) dies in the arms of their son (obi-wan/luke) as a sith (palps/maul) is cast down into the abyss to their deaths. (palps being alive in the ST and retconning his death in rotj is also annoying for this reason)

i mean i like maul. don't get me wrong. he's an incredibly compelling character and i enjoy seeing more of him... but there's always the thought hovering in my mind like "he should be dead though. he should 100% be dead. this wouldn't be happening if he was dead, but i honestly would rather it not if it meant that maul was dead."

like the tpm fight just doesn't hit the same knowing that canonically he's just. going to become a robot octopus at some point. (shoutout to palps becoming sith glados in the ST) it cheapens the moment for me. it was supposed to be a moment of triumph marred by the deep and soul-crushing loss of a loved one and it's just... not, anymore. or at least not to the same extent. AUGH i'm just. frustrated. wish star wars as a whole wasn't constantly reframing/retconning what's been established. just puts a bad taste in my mouth.

#personal #star wars is HUGE #there's a GALAXY'S worth of stories to be told #and we're always for whatever reason focusing on this ONE PARTICULAR TIME PERIOD #it's suffocating #this is partly why i'm so excited to see the acolyte #it's a break from the skywalker saga #i love the skywalkers. i love the skywalker saga. #but that's also why i want them to STOP ADDING TO THEIR STORY #sometimes a story has a beginning middle and an end and that's okay! #that's fantastic! #we don't need to see between the lines! or behind the scenes! what if we just LEFT IT ALONE #AUGH #anyways. i don't know. i'm just frustrated with the state of star wars as a whole #it feels so claustrophobic right now. just because the space is there and undefined doesn't mean it needs to be filled #this constant push to canonize the years leading up to an event with content is so frustrating #negative space in an image isn't a bad thing it just helps guide the eye to what's most important #otherwise it gets too cluttered. too noisy. too DISTRACTING. #this was supposed to be about maul being alive but it's really about my ongoing grievances with how star wars is cannibalizing the movies #i'm tired of it........ tired i tell you #anyways that's all. real old man yells at cloud moment rn lmao

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐇 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑺𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔...

╰┈➤ ❝ jeremiah x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : angst, friends with benefits, forbidden love/"we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, hints at friendship betrayal, the pain more if you've read main story ch8 and xavier's myth ch5, kissing and making out, mentions of nipple play, mentions of oral (f and m receiving), fingering, clit play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cumshot, dirty talk, praise, cursing, use of nicknames "pretty" "princess" "milady/my lady", lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 4.5k

an : LOOK. BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING. before you "roxie... what—" me !!!!! writing for him is probably a one-time thing, but listen. he's CUTE!!! and if he's cute, i will write for him...!!!!! (sorry, xavier)

You didn't really know when it started.

After all, what were the odds for you to be strolling around long enough, just to chance across this quaint little flower shop that would eventually became part of your every being?

He'd been arranging some flowers out in the front when you first saw him, light brown, curly hair shining with a gleam under the sunlight. He was humming some kind of tune—it wasn't one you particularly knew, and yet, oddly enough, it was one you found familiar, in ways you couldn't really describe.

In retrospect, the flowers were pretty. Pastel colors blending in with limes and greens, a splash of vibrancy against a largely black exterior. Blues and yellows seemed to be predominant amongst the hues, almost tiny and star-like—a galaxy of flowers, you remember thinking.

And something about it had you easily magnetized.

"Hi!" You'd walked up to him without really thinking; lamely telling yourself in your head, that, hey, maybe your apartment could use some extra decorating...!

(It didn't, but now that you'd approached the florist like this, you felt compelled to at least buy something.)

Jeremiah, however, had been completely spooked by your sudden appearance. One look at you, and his eyes went wide and his humming immediately ceased—you could have sworn a hint of recognition had passed in his eyes, but it was gone before you could truly make out what it was that you saw.

"W-whoah!" he'd laughed, hints of both nervousness and awkwardness glaringly obvious to you—and any busybody that happened to be passing by, for that matter. "Uh!? Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone so, um... Early?"

You could feel it was a feeble excuse.

Sure, it had been your day off, and sure, maybe it was odd for you to be out and about in the morning at all—but it hadn't been that early. You almost wanted to say something about it out loud... but something in you told you to cut him some slack.

Instead, you'd offered a smile.

"No, I'm sorry. Are you not open yet? You have some beautiful flowers, and I couldn't help but want to look at them a little..."

It was amusing to you how easy his expressions were to read. They had changed seamlessly from bewilderment to joy, and he instantly gestured inside. "Oh! We are open! Wow, maybe I'm just really distracted this morning, haha! But hey, thanks, I'm actually pretty proud if them myself. Though I get some help from a friend in taking care of them, I think they're pretty too..."

You'd known from the start that he was quite the talker, but as a smile played on your lips, you thought that you didn't really mind so much, anyway.

He looked cute, and his voice was just as cute.

But the store, you later realized, would take your breath away in an instant.

The inside was just as majestic as the outside. You found that despite the fact that it looked rather small from a distance, its exterior was actually quite misleading. The inside was beautiful—a floor and a loft worth of flowers, and, you could spot all the way in the back, a door that seemed to be leading out into a garden.

And was that... a greenhouse?!

He had probably noticed the awe on your face when you stepped in, and couldn't help but chuckle. "You like?" he grinned, obvious pride twinkling in his eyes.

"Well... yeah! I can't belive I haven't found this place before. Don't you get a lot of customers?"

"Hmm... Sometimes. Depends on the day, really. But as it goes, if you know the place, then you know, right? Welcome to Philo!"

He turned momentarily before offering you a single yellow blossom, its petals unfurling like puffs in your hand.

You eyed it curiously.

"This, is...?"

"It's a zinnia flower. I thought its colour matched your eyes a little, so think of it as something to keep you company while you look around!"

That day, you picked out a lovely bouquet of little blue periwinkles, and learned that his name was Jeremiah.

From then on, you would chance upon him more, and more, and more—taking the occasional detour whenever you were free, or even timing your lunch breaks enough so to at least be able to catch a glimpse. For the flowers, of course, you would tell yourself, because each visit, Jeremiah would give you a single stem. "On the house!" he would say, and you would smile.

The first day you met, he'd given you a yellow zinnia.

The second day you met, he'd given you a sunflower.

The third day you met, he'd given you a white camellia.

And the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth, and onwards—a single flower, handed over with a dismissive excuse of it going with your hair, or your outfit, or your smile—most often accompanied by a nonchalant remark on how pretty you looked.

Sometimes, after that, you'd talk a little. He would ask you about your day, and you would ask him about his day... You've even learned, by now, the things that he liked. Flowers, a given, but also literature—poetry. Though he remarked that lately he hadn't gotten around to reading anything, he's always been quite fond of them.

You found that these little tidbits made him feel less... mysterious, in a sense, and more real. It went without saying that the more you went over to visit, the longer you'd stay—the longer you'd stay, the louder your heart would beat.

In the end, it wouldn't take long before you realized it yourself, but you were no longer going to Philo for simply... the flowers.

And on one particular night, having made it just in time for closing hours, things had started taking a different turn.

...That night had started off innocent.

Cheerful greetings, cheerful chatter—now, you'd grown accustomed to telling him all about how your day or how your week had gone, and then you would never fail to fluster at the way he'd listen to you so attentively. His eyes, you realized, were almost as bright as the sun—honey-brown like his hair, with specks and glimmers of sapphire when the light hit just right enough. If anything else, you thought that a sunflower suited him better than it did you—the cheerful bounce in his curls, and the way his laugh would tinkle in the air and send butterflies into your stomach without even trying.

Perhaps, down bad was an understatement for you.

But no matter how close you had gotten to this boy, you couldn't help but feel as if there was an unknown barrier between the two of you.

That night, Jeremiah gave you a rose.

Cleaned of its thorns, and as pure and pristine as all the other white flowers he'd housed in his store—he tucked it behind your ear, and his gaze softened in a way that you had never seen before.

The air between you was heavy.

But neither of you would make a definitive move.

"Hey, so how are the flowers all doing?" He broke the silence, but his eyes remained steely on yours.

"I'm... taking care of them like I promised to. I still have that bouquet, and I still have all of the other ones you gave me..."

"Hmm." A smile played at his lips, and then he began to list the recent flowers he'd given to you, for the past couple of weeks of your sporadic visits—

"Let's see. Azalea, petunia, iris, lily... a yellow tulip, some lavender—" He stopped, and amusement shone in his eyes. "Hey, don't tell me you're keeping them all in one vase! And with the others, too? That won't make for a pretty bouquet, you know, the colours will all just clash too much!"

You watched as he laughed, but your eyes only furrowed. "What do you mean? I don't have a greenhouse like you do! Might I remind you that I live in an apartment?!"

"I know. But you didn't really have to keep them."

"Why not? They're from you..."

Jeremiah's gaze softened, and then, again, came that same, pensive silence.

And again, you felt like you were drawn to him.

You couldn't have known why.

Despite whatever butterflies and giddiness he'd often bring upon you, it wasn't as if you'd spent all that much time with him—perhaps, you'd try to visit every week if you could, but that was it, wasn't it? A small chat, a few glances... a flower, and then a wave goodbye—

Yet here you were, like a moth to a flame.

"Penny for your thoughts, milady?" he mumbled out as if to bring you out of your reverie, but it almost seemed to you that he was having the same trepidations.

And that nickname.

He would call you by it often—it fell from his lips almost naturally, and then onto your ears equally as naturally. You've always liked the sound of it, reveling in the way he would treat you so sweetly like this, smiling to yourself at the way his eyes would squint in joy whenever he said it.

But, in this situation....

...Closer.

You chanced it, this feeling, and leaned in.

Jeremiah drew in a shaky breath... but he didn't move.

Instead, his eyes—so telling, his eyes—would move downwards over your face, before settling onto your lips.

"...Miah," you whispered, and you saw him gulp at the nickname. "Can I kiss you?"

Moths, near a flame, never end well. Surely they don't.

But Jeremiah, despite knowing that, had never been happier to oblige.

That night, was the first night he had kissed you.  The first time that both of you had given into the thrumming of temptation always in the air; the first time he had you pressed against his counter, hands roaming fondly over your body, kissing you almost as if his life depended on it.

And from that night forward, things changed substantially.

Weekly visits turned to daily—nightly. Chancing upon closing hours became more planned and deliberate, and then the situation would be the same. Lips crashing upon lips, fingers gripping tightly onto fistfuls of hair, the soft resounding of hushed moans into each others mouths.

You no longer remembered when he started becoming more daring, either. When he started sliding his hands underneath your top, when he started kissing at your neck, fingers rubbing your nipples fondly... You don't remember when you made it into his bedroom, having him trace his hands over your thighs, pushing you apart, fingers slipping into your cunt and sliding through your folds in a way that had you absolutely speechless. Or, neither could you remember how on some nights, he had his head between your legs—licking, and sucking, and eating you out, waves of pleasure coarsing through your veins like never before.

No, at this point, you really didn't remember—how many times your night had been filled with him, how many times you would come all over his mouth—his fingers—

How many times you'd moaned his name.

Perhaps, you thought, it might have been the same for him. Your hands, pumping his cock with fervor, tongue swirling around his tip, drinking up ever last drop of cum he would offer you. You knew, by now, that he loved it when your fingers fell through his hair, stroking fondly at his curled tresses, or digging into his scalp as a testament to your passion.

And yet, you'd never gone further.

Each night, you would see a hint of regret flash in his eyes, and though he would hold you, and kiss you, and do everything to ensure you would sleep soundly right beside him...

The ambiguity of your relationship was clear.

The nights would be for pleasure, but there would be nothing more.

No professions of love, no promises of commitment...

Perhaps, the butterflies you'd always felt around him, had also simmered down to nothing but racing heartbeats in anticipation of his touch.

"Does that feel good, pretty?"

Now, Jeremiah had his fingers in your pussy, drinking up the lust in your eyes, watching the way your mouth would hang open in breathless pants.

"Mhm... Miah... Miah, you're so good..."

He smiled up at you, thumb grazing over your clit, sighing when your head fell back with another moan.

"Staying quiet really was never your strong suit, huh? I love having you like this. You're so, pretty for me, my lady... So pretty..."

"M-Mia—aahn—"

He leaned up to kiss you, his lips feeling home on yours, your back arching to meet the thrust of his fingers.

"You're adorble," he mumbled, lightly onto your lips when he pulled back. "Really adorable. So adorable, damn, I'm so lucky."

Another moan from your mouth, and you tensed beneath him. "C-close!" you cried, "M'gonna— gonna cum!"

"Mhm? Real close, huh, pretty?"

His finger brushed on the spongy spot in your walls, and your high came crashing immediately.

"Miah! Oh, fuck—Miah, Miah— Jeremiah—"

You groaned as he rode out your orgasm, his fingers slowly pulling out of you, drenched in your slick, and you trembled beneath him with pleasure.

"Miah..."

"Aww... Now I'm hard for you again..." He almost whined as he pressed against you, the feeling of his bare cock on your folds making you hiss in pleasure.

"Should I..." you panted, chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. "Do you want me to suck you off again?"

Your offer came out genuinely, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as if to prepare yourself—but he shook his head, guiding you back down. Jeremiah smiled and placed kisses all over your face, rolling over to lay down next of you as if to make a point. "No need, princess. We've done enough for tonight, right?"

You expected this.

Jeremiah never went too far; always keeping your activities to a minimum, always shaking his head when you asked for more. His self control was impeccable—but it was ironic, almost, considering that these activities had already very much become a nightly adventure.

But you pouted.

Instinctively, you reached out a hand for him to hold; "Why do you hold yourself back when you're with me?"

"What do you mean?"

You could at scoffed at the obviously feigned innocence on his face when he turned to look at you.

"This. You won't let this go... further. Like there's—there's something stopping you, or..." You paused, and squeezed his hand "Jeremiah, what... are we? What are we doing?"

It was a question you'd never dared to ask, but one that you had always felt burning in the back of your mind.

He didn't answer immediately.

You probed him further.

"Even when we're like this, it's almost like... You're still so far away from me. I just... I want to understand where this is all coming from, because, Miah, I think I—"

"Don't..."

His voice, interrupting you, was twinged with guilt. He shifted closer enough to cradle you into his chest.

"We're just... We're friends, right? Who just... fool around, from time to time..."

The more words fell out of his mouth, the more he seemed to sound... regretful.

You looked up at him with a searching gaze. "Is that why you'll never really go further than this? Because we're... friends."

He nodded, slowly.

But something wasn't sitting right with you.

It was almost as if he knew something; as if he was hiding something so desperately from you that it was taking every ounce of his being not to give in and tell you everything.

"Miah..."

"...Ah, fuck—please. Not that nickname, not right now..."

You couldn't understand the pain in his voice.

"...Jeremiah, then."

He looked at you, chewing on the inside of his lower lip, and his eyes held a glimmer of something you couldn't quite understand.

"...Do you... Want this, Jeremiah? Is it... Is it not enjoyable for you? If— If you don't want to anymore, then we could just—"

"N-no! It is! God, it is! You're so perfect for me, princ—" the nickname caught in his throat, and he gulped. "Y-you... You always feel so good. I more than want it, I love doing this with you—!"

"Then why are you so sad...?"

Your words hung in the air, the silence that followed laying thick with a mix of your emotions. It was almost like he took a moment to process the truth of what you'd said, and then he looked away, gaze flitting to the bedsheets, grip tight around your arms.

"...Miah..."

"No, don't... I— Please... Please, I just—I want you so bad. To have you beneath me—to fuck you, to make love to you... You don't even know how much. And even more than that, I... The more we do this, the more I realize that I don’t want to just fool around with you..."

"Then why don't you? Jeremiah... all this time, I—"

"You're not mine."

You paused. His voice came out barely a whisper, and though he refused to look at you, you could make out the tiny glistening of tears in his eyes.

"What... What do you mean?"

"You... You belong to someone else—"

"No, I don't! I don't have any other man in my life, Miah, you know this—"

"But you should!"

"...What? What are you saying?"

He finally looked at you, moving you onto your back once more, clear, pure conflict in his eyes, even as he leaned down to nip at your jawline. His hot, warm breaths were against your skin once more. Immediately you felt your hair raise up, all manner of thoughts seeping through your mind in an instant, desire stirring inside of you—

"M-Miah..." You drew in a sharp breath. "W-wait, you're not— not making any sense, what's going on...?"

"I can't—I'm not—I'm not supposed to be doing this with you..." His voice shook, but he rolled his hips against yours, and you had to let out a gasp. "I'm not, but I... God, you're just so tempting..."

"I don't... U-understa—ah, shit—!"

"Wh- What's your... call..." Jeremiah let out a shaky breath near your ear, his eyes pleading, his cock resting neatly between your folds, the heat of his touch sending your mind into overdrive. "You— Is it okay? Can I put it in? You... Y-you said..."

Oh...

You swallowed thickly, melting under the intensity in his eyes, failing to hold back a whimper at the way he was sliding against you.

"Yes," you breathed, immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I said yes... I still say yes..."

His hips stuttered at your words, and you could see him grit his teeth as he bit back a loud moan. "O- once. Just once. Once, and I'll pull out, I promise... Just once, let me be inside you..."

Despite the fact that you had already given him consent, he seemed almost as if he was reassuring himself more than you. It didn't sit right with you—something was wrong, and you knew it. Jeremiah wasn't drunk, to have been possibly saying this while not in his right mind, but, this... this was...

What was holding him back?

You, being in such a situation where you understood nothing, didn't know what to do.

Should you stop him...?

Something in your mind was screaming at you to tell him to calm down; what if he didn't truly want this?

But his cock was rubbing so nicely into your clit. You could feel the pool of arousal gather within seconds of him rutting against you, and how—how could you think?

If this were up to you, you've wanted this for so long.

And he was asking you...

He was asking you if he could finally put it inside of you...

You shuddered at the thought, your walls clenching around nothing.

Fuck.

"You can take me, Miah," you whispered, breath shaking. You steeled yourself to keep from bucking your hips upwards. "But you have to promise me... Promise me, promise me, that you won't end up regretting it..."

Something flashed in his eyes.

Uncertainty, perhaps—

Jeremiah let out ragged pants, but for a moment, he didn't speak.

Ah...

You moved your hand slowly, trailing his skin before resting to cup his cheek.

"...Do you truly want this, Jeremiah?"

"Yes," he breathed. "Fuck, yes..."

"Okay. I want this, but I'm not forcing you. You have my consent, but I... I want yours."

He sighed, and leaned into your touch, something like a hopeless resignation now made clear in his eyes. He was like a deer in the headlights, almost—so embrolled in whatever internal conflict was at the forefront of his mind, that you almost pitied him. With a pout, you kissed him, slowly, softly, and he lay his forehead to meet yours.

"What if," he whispered, "there was... someone out there, who's loved you all this time?"

"...Miah?"

"What if... What if I'm stealing you from him? What if it was never supposed to be this way? I just... I feel like... You were never supposed to be mine to hold..."

It wasn't something you could understand at a surface level. You knew that there was more to it—things he couldn't say out loud, and things he couldn't make you understand no matter how hard he tried to.

So you sighed.

"Well, Miah, I haven't met him, whoever he is."

"But you hav—"

"The point is that I'm here, now, with you. And, if... If, it makes you feel better, then..." You swallowed your pride, swallowed all the feelings you might have grown for him through your time together, swallowed all hope that you could ever have a normal relationship with him. "We're just... friends, right? Fooling around, like you said. Just... like we've always been doing."

Your heart buzzed, numb, almost.

The look in his eyes told you he didn't believe you; almost as if he'd known, all this time, that you've fallen in love with him, very likely just as he had with you—

But you didn't pay it any mind.

If nothing else, you didn't want to lose what you had now.

It was okay, like this.

You could live with it.

Maybe.

All things considered, your words seemed to bring him to relax just a little bit, and he nuzzled your nose, the fondness in his eyes resurfacing and drowning out any remaining traces of guilt. "Okay," he nodded, "you're right. Of course. We're just... fooling around. Friends, just... fooling around."

It was a false sense of security.

Somehow, the both of you knew it deep in your hearts that you were lying to yourselves.

But it didn't matter, right?

Not when the first push of his tip through your walls had you gasping your air, not when the feel of his length moving right into your cunt felt so perfect—so right. And along with you, Jeremiah let out quiet whimpers, sinking into you slowly, slipping in inch by inch, allowing the both of you to savor this very feeling.

"Holy shit," he cursed, breathless, gritting his teeth as he looked at you almost pleadingly—"How can you feel so good?"

By now he'd bottomed out and your bodies were flush against each other, feeling the echoing of your heartbeats in sync, heavy pants filling the equally weighty silence that followed. Leaning forward slightly, he moved to rest both of your legs on his shoulders, and you couldn't help but moan at the way the slight adjustment had him shifting deeper within you.

"M-Miah—"

"Fuck, can I... Can I move?" He placed a chaste kiss on the skin of your calf, before letting his hands fall down to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle, his eyes still searching yours almost expectantly.

"Please..."

You could have melted at the way he smiled at you.

And then Jeremiah wasted no time in pulling out, before slowly easing back in. The way your name fell from his lips in a drawn-out moan had you tingling, and you held him tight against you, eyes closing at the way he stretched you out.

He felt so... warm. So safe.

Each of his thrusts were thoughtful, intentional; slow, but long and deep.

Filling.

"S'good, Miah..." you whispered, latching your hands onto his soft curls. "You fit so well..."

"I know... haah... I can't believe we're—I think I'll ruin you for him—"

You didn't dare dwell on his words and only clenched around him at a particularly deep thrust, having the both of you moan in synchrony.

"Fuck! My lady, please— g-go easy on me...!"

"Y-you're the one w-who's so deep—ah—!"

You pulled at his hair, feeling the way the sensitive head of his cock would delightfully brush against your most delicate spot. Your eyes clouded with want, raking your nails over his scalp, shuddering at the way he would moan and moan, on and on about the pleasure of your heat.

"Mhm... so good, Miah, s'perfect..." You moaned in tandem with him, whispering praises, matching his thrusts with every movement of your hips. It was too much, almost, even though all he was doing was thrusting into you, doe-like, unfocused eyes transfixed upon your face.

If you weren't lying to yourself, you were inclined to think that he, too, mirrored your exact thoughts.

"Princess... Fuck, my princess..."

Ah. That nickname.

The way his cock would twitch inside you at the mere sound of this nickname from his lips had you gasping, and you wondered, truly, why it had him so worked up. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him so attached to it—but you adored it; you reveled in the way he would use it on you.

"S-say it again," you breathed, heart racing at the wet sounds of your pussy with each of his thrusts, every roll of his hips pushing him so deep inside of you, gliding against that spongy spot. You could barely hold back your moans anymore, words turning into broken, unintelligible whimpers.

"You..." Jeremiah closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, and you felt lightheaded at the image of it in front of you. "Y-you... You like it? When I call you princess?"

Another whine escaped from your lips, and you continue to coax him, pleading him, praising him—anything to get him to bring you closer to your high.

And he listened.

"Fuck, princess— princess, princess, princess— my princess, my pretty, pretty princess—"

Your eyes rolled back as he picked up his pace, precise with his thrusts as the bed rocked steadily beneath you. Cries and moans spilled from your lips, your hands falling to twist into his sheets.

Perfect.

He was perfect.

You'd barely started grinding your hips upwards to meet his thrusts, and then your body was tensing with pleasure

"M-Miah!" Your fingers raked down to his back, gripping tightly when he hissed into your ear. "M'cumming, Miah! M'gonn— I'll—!"

He thrust hard and deep inside of your cunt, and you trembled, crying out his name, mouth falling open—

Jeremiah buried his face into your neck as he pulled out of you, spilling his load all over your chest, broken chants of your name.

"I—fuck—shit—" He whined into your skin, barely lifting himself enough to relax your positions, crawling back over to give you the sweetest of kisses.

"Jeremiah..." You stroked his cheek once more, gently, lost in the way that his eyes would look at you with so much adoration that your heart could beat right out of your chest.

"I..." he started, a pout forming at his lips. "I'm sorry, my lady..."

He didn't explain why, but he didn't need to.

You could see it in his eyes.

His eyes, his ever expressive eyes, holding so much warmth and so much love—

He loved you.

Even though you had dared to reach this illusion of mutual agreement, even if you'd promised yourselves only just a short while ago that this wouldn't happen.

That it couldn't happen.

And you closed your eyes.

"I know," you whispered.

I love you, too.

Your words would remain unsaid.

⁺₊ / an: flower language is cute and the flowers mentioned here represent things like compliments/love/growing attraction! the zinnia symbolises welcoming back a missing friend! because jeremiah would totally flirt via flowers... haha... florist, right....... did i just make myself more attached to him? 4.5k wordcount says yes!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#DROPS THIS AND SPRINTS THE FUCK AWAY #aka roxie is down bad for side characters again #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love & deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace x reader #love and deepspace jeremiah #love & deepspace jeremiah #jeremiah #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah x you #l&ds #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #✿˖°. roxiefic #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #divider by mikeykuns #divider by cafekitsune

[raccoonsrummagerostrum]

Twisted Memories

Fem Yautja x Fem! Human! Ex-soldier! Reader

Word count: 928

Warnings: Brief mentions of: suicide, SA, harassment violence, and injury. Themes of PTSD. Nightmares. Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After living through hell, dropping out of service, failing to re-enter civilian life, and trenching across the galaxy, you finally get some peace of mind in your new life. 

A/N: This is probably the most specific fic I've written, and probably the most heavy, but I think it's really good!

You don't like talking about your service, you don't even like telling people that you served. Folks always tried to thank you, and tell you how brave you are. You hated it. There was nothing from your service that was worth being thanked over. You had been forced to kill and maim in the name of corporate interest. You had been harassed simply for the crime of having tits. And so many of your friends were dead, not because they were killed valiantly in the heat of battle, but because they too had been mistreated and abused by the government who they had sworn to protect.

Somehow things got even worse when you left service. The VA was absolutely now help, you had been left with chronic pain from all the shrapnel left in your body. Radio shows and news anchors kept reaching out to hear your story, only for you to tell it and be met with horrified looks and an empty promise that they would keep in touch. The worst part was having to live amongst civilians who had no idea what you went though and would likely vomit if you told them. In the end, getting off planet was the best decision you ever made.

The yautja were much more your style. Their entire civilization was focused on hunting. But not just random senseless killings like back on earth. These hunts had rules, they were fair, and it was for glory. You were treated so well by everyone too. Free, no hassle health care, mental health support, and best of all a loving wife to come home too. 

You loved telling her all about your hunts, but always refrained from telling her about your life before leaving earth. You didn’t want her to know about any of it, and for the most part she didn’t ask. But she did wonder. 

Despite how hard you tried to run from your past it always caught up to you, especially in your dreams. Vivid images of war would regularly flash across the back of your eyelids as your brain struggled to rest. What was worse is that these nightmares were always worse than your memories. They were twisted and warped by your subconscious until they became more horrific than reality could ever be. 

You once again flew out of your sleep, the tendrils of those nightmares slowly fading as your dark bedroom came into view. The soothing voice of your lover wafted into your ears as you slowly regained awareness of the world around you. Even sitting in bed she towered over you, and effortlessly pulled you into her lap and cradled you in her arms as though you were her pup. She loved you like you were her pup. Without even thinking you burrowed your face into her clavicle and sobbed.

“IT WAS SO SCARY!” You wailed. 

“I know love, It's ok, I'm here,” she soothed back. 

“I-I was jus- just tr-try-trying to pull hi-him to safety, and-and they j-just kept SHOOTING AT ME!” You completely lost control as you sobbed and cried into her. She began to rock you as she sang something that you had once heard her singing to a suckling. It was hard to tell in the dead of night how much time had passed but that didn’t matter as your sniffling slowed then stopped.  

“Please,” she spoke, honey and silk dripping from her voice “Tell me.” She didn’t even need to say what, you knew. 

You followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She fixed you both a warm drink before joining you. Almost immediately you poured it all out. Everything you had seen in combat, everything that had been done to you by your superiors, everything. Eventually you had to stop. Your breath hitched, your eyes stung, your nose ran, and the sun was starting to come up. You hadn't even gotten to the subject of the nightmare. Your lover soothed you once again, treating you very much like a sad pup. 

She curled back into bed with you in her arms. Somewhere between the heat of her body, the soft plush of the bed, and the reassuring sounds of the early morning, you were able to fall back asleep, if only for a moment. 

Over the next few days you told your wife more. Telling her how and why you left service, your life after, the many many funerals you attended. Eventually you told her about how and why you left earth, and how everything has been better since then and how you don’t think you can ever go back. She gave you a sad smile.

“My life as well has been better since you have come into it, but I am so sorry that you had to walk though that to be here.” It was at last her turn to cry. Her heart ached for what you had lived though. In that moment the only thing she wanted to do was take that pain away, to take those memories, and to take the nightmares. You both held each other, and embraced for a long moment. Once the tears from both of you began to slow, you pulled away and looked at each other. Her hair painted her face and the tears caught the sunlight to look like jewels. Your rosy cheeks bloomed, and a smile was spread across your face. You echoed back your wife's earlier sentiment.

“I'm sorry I had to go though that too. But fuck do you make it all worth it.”

#yautja #yautja x human #yautja x reader #writing #fanfic #predator alien #predator fanfiction #tw ptsd #tw injury #tw sa #tw harrasment #fem! reader #veteran

[andromeda3116]

okay but some of the ideas in jupiter ascending are literally so galaxy-brained? like, the concept that capitalism taken to its utmost extreme would result in a "superior" (read: ultra-wealthy) class exploiting whole planets of people for their own gain? the way that the three siblings play off each other, when you're ultimately left like "shit man at least balem fucking told her he wanted her dead even though he had some seriously fucked-up emotions regarding his dead mother like holy shit can you say oedipus complex my god". but the sister is like, "the ultimate resource, the only one that matters, is more time" and that's a profound concept and also again so horrifically accurate and dystopian because she's literally stealing time from not just people but whole planets' worth of people, and has been for thousands of years, they've grown them for this purpose and of course that would be elon musk's fucking wet dream, to be able to buy himself more time, and while i don't think he or anyone else would just like. immediately jump to "kill whole planets for it" i also think that if he felt like that was the only way, he would be like "it's the Greater Good. i have Unlocked Immortality For The Human Race" and be totally blind to the fact that it was only for the rich ones, on the backs of everyone else. and yet she's still nice? just because you're a genocidal self-serving ultra-capitalist immortal monster doesn't mean you have to be a jerk about it. which is so. how the human condition works?

and yet this movie also has "bees can sense royalty" and whatever the fuck was going on with channing tatum's character and a wooden (yet somehow refreshingly horny*) love story and an exhaustingly-long chase scene that could have been thirty seconds and the Great Disappearing Sean Bean Daughter and

like it's somehow simultaneously "terrible idea, flawless execution" and "flawless idea, terrible execution"

(*in contrast to the "everyone is beautiful, no one is horny" trope, channing tatum looks like a snack and by god is mila kunis ready to eat him)

#jupiter ascending #this movie is a fever dream

[imagineyourworld]

As Long as the Stars Allow

Cassian Andor x Duchess!Reader  Warnings: Talk of death, canon typical violence, sexism, smut (including oral, PiV, and slight choking and orgasm denial, thigh riding), possessiveness (from both Cassian and reader) Summary: I honestly don’t have a summary... It’s kind of an enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, fake bodyguard, soulmates story.

-------

Nothing could ever shake your unwavering loyalty to the Rebellion, or at least that’s what you thought before you met him.  Cassian Andor. Infamous rebel spy, ladies man, fighter to his core, and the one person in the Rebellion you hated almost as much as the Empire itself.  For quite some time now you have wondered how it was possible for you to get along with every single other rebel, and then you met Cassian and all that went out the window.  It wasn’t exactly hate at first sight, in fact the first conversation the two of you had had been good. He was reserved and held back, didn’t tell you anything about his past of his motivation to join the Rebel Alliance, but he was polite, nice, almost flirty. Well, the next time you saw him all that had changed.  Cassian had single-handedly managed to make you question whether taking down the Empire was really worth spending time with him. Until said Empire committed another atrocity that is and you realised that as annoying as Cassian might be, it was worth it. For you, your loved ones, your people, and the entire galaxy.  “Your Grace, Bail Organa requests your presence in his office,” the voice of your trusted lady drew your attention away from your brooding thoughts.  You turned away from the window, the millions of stars outside it, and nodded your thanks to her.  You had expected to be called into someone’s office sooner rather than later, after all you had already spent more time on the starship than you liked. Every second you spent with the rebels, even worse on one of their ships, was a risk. You could gather intel at meetings, read classified reports from the Empire only community leaders had access to, help the Rebellion in many little ways, but actually being with them for an extended period of time might draw the wrong kind of attention and blow your cover of neutrality.  Your lady following behind you, you made your way to Bail’s office, the doors of which opened the second you halted in front of them.  “Please wait here for me, Mira.”  With a small curtsy your lady told you that she understood and you entered the office, the doors closing behind you again.  Bail Organa stood with his back to you, another human male next to him, and an all too familiar Togruta facing both of them and thereby you.  “Y/n, I’m glad you could join us,” Ahsoka said with a smile on her face.  You returned the gesture, focusing all your attention on her so as not to stare daggers at the other man in the room, who out of the corner of your eye you had by now recognised as none other than Cassian Andor.  “The pleasure is all mine. I didn’t know you’d be here,” you told her as you walked across the office to give her a hug.  Despite a ten year age difference you counted Ahsoka to your closest friends, one of the few other women in the Rebellion and someone who had been through more than you could ever imagine.  “You’re more beautiful every time I see you,” Ahsoka told you, looking you over. You knew you looked your best today, your white dress flattering your body shape and your hair styled in the newest fashion with a flower native to your planet braided into it. “Doesn’t she?”  The last words were directed at the two men in the office, forcing you to stand beside Ahsoka and look at them.  “Beautiful like a midnight flower, your Grace,” Bail said with a smooth kiss to your hand.  Cassian, on the other hand, didn’t even acknowledge you. Instead he kept his gaze focused on the holopad on the desk.  “Enough with the pleasantries now. Please, let’s get to business. What is so important that we had to meet here?”  Finally, Cassian looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours in a cold stare. “Why? Did your Grace have somewhere more important to be?”  Out of his mouth the honorific sounded like an insult. It was only due to years of education and dealing with condescending politicians that you managed to ignore him and instead focus on the two people in the room you actually liked.  “I know what you risk by meeting us here, Y/n, but there was nowhere else we deemed safe,” Ahsoka said. “What we’re about to tell you could change everything.”  Her words made you look at the datapad, which displayed a map and a long list of names next to it. It took you a moment to recognise some of them. Bail was on that list, as was his wife Queen Breha and even their daughter, though only just a teenager. Ahsoka, deemed dead by the Empire, wasn’t on it, but you spotted a few other familiar names, friends, other rebels you had only spoken to briefly. Cassian.  You looked up from the list and met his eyes. He knew he was on the list, of course he did, maybe that was the reason he was here now, and though you should have expected him to be on the list, especially with what little you know of his past, it somehow shocked you that the Empire was really after him, that one day he might not return from a mission.  “Cassian here managed to secure this list a couple of weeks ago. It’s names and last known locations of people the Empire knows or thinks might be a danger to it. Spies, rebels, gang members, everyone who for some reason or other isn’t happy with the Empire.”  You looked at Bail as he talked, an unspoken question in your eyes.  He shook his head. “You’re not on that list. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t others on which you might be.”  You nodded. It had always been a risk to work for the Rebellion, you knew that one day the Empire might find out and you would have to face the consequences.  “What’s the plan? Do you want me to hide those people on Kamaanti?”  It was somewhat of a rhetorical question, you knew, and everyone else in the room did as well, that you might have been able to hide a few people on your small planet but not an entire list of enemies to the Empire, at least not without getting yourself on that list as well, and getting people killed in the process.  “You’re invited to the Empire’s annual masquerade ball, right?”  Another rhetorical question. As Duchess of Kamaanti you were invited every year, forced to dance with Imperials, listen to their ideas and how they thought they were the greatest beings to ever walk the galaxy, and in an admittedly clever way kept away from any known rebel sympathisers at the event.  “I am.”  Bail nodded.  You remember, years ago, when he and his family had been invited to the ball as well. That’s where you first met, where you found out that Bail, in his days as a republic senator, had been quite close with your own parents before their untimely death, where he had begun to give you hints of a group of people who weren’t exactly on board with the Empire.  The last couple of years the Organas were still invited, as the royal family of Alderaan they had to be, though be it on paper only. Everyone knew that they weren’t exactly welcome, other than you they had never kept their political opinions exactly quiet.  “And it is still held in the Great Imperial Ballroom on Coruscant?”  You confirmed.  “And do you know what lies beneath the ballroom?”  You turned away from Bail to look at Ahsoka, who had spoken for the first time in a while.  “I don’t,” you admitted after a moment of silence. “But you do, don’t you? You were raised on Coruscant.”  Just like with Cassian, you knew only a little about Ahsoka’s past. You knew that she, like Bail, had known your parents before their death, that she was raised on Coruscant, that she kept many secrets she wouldn’t even tell you.  “What is now known as the Great Imperial Ballroom wasn’t always a ballroom. It used to be a training facility, which is quite useful since both a ballroom and a training room require soft flooring, big spaces, speakers for music. What are now the guest suites used to be dormitories, and underneath the ballroom, where there used to be storage, are now secret offices. Offices where the Empire does things they don’t exactly want the public to know.”  You nodded along with her words. Things they don’t exactly want the public to know, such as writing up lists of enemies of the Empire, basically kill lists.  “And you want me to, what, sneak into the basement and delete the list?”  It wasn’t exactly madness, but almost equally as insane. Sure, you had an invitation to enter the building, a suite reserved for you just a few floors up, but you had no experience with breaking and entering whatsoever. You were an informant, you could help out with sensitive information, hide a few people if necessary, donate a star ship every once in a while, but you couldn’t break into a top secret office, at least not without... help.  Your eyes flitted over to Cassian. That’s why he was here. You were the way in, he was the one to actually do the job.  “Delete the list, see if there are any others, and if so delete them as well,” Bail confirmed your earlier question.  You nodded along, barely registering his words.  Why Cassian? There were dozens of others who could to the job, people you didn’t hate, who didn’t hate you. Why did it have to be him?  “I’m sure you’re wondering what Cassian has to do with all of this,” Bail continued after a moment of silence.  You scoffed. You liked Bail, you really did, but sometimes he, like most other men, underestimated you simply because of your pretty face and your fancy clothes.  “I know exactly why he’s here. I’m the looks, he’s the brain.”  Now it was Cassian’s turn to scoff. He glared at you with fire in his eyes.  “I wouldn’t exactly say that you’re the looks. More like I’m the brain and the looks and you’re just our way in.”  Charming, you thought, rolling your eyes at him.  “Have you really thought this through, Bail?” Ahsoka asked, mirroring your thoughts exactly.  Bail shrugged. “It’s an important mission and we need our best people on it. I’m sure they can cease acting like children for at least a little while.”  Somehow his words struck you. You really were acting like children, weren’t you? Bail was right, this was an important mission and you couldn’t risk it by arguing with Cassian every time he opened his mouth or even just breathed in your direction.  With an audible sigh you reached your hand across the desk, offering it to the spy.  “Truce?”  After a moment of heavy silence, and raised eyebrows from both Ahsoka and Bail, Cassian returned the gesture, enclosing your hand in his.  The warmth of it, even in the slightly cold office, took you by surprise, as did the calluses against your soft skin. And yet his hand somehow fit in yours, not quite like a puzzle piece but it didn’t repulse you as much as you had anticipated.  You squeezed his hand once, giving him your most dazzling smile, before letting go and turning back to Bail.  “So, what’s the cover story? How am I going to get Cassian past security?” 

-------

You were scared.  It was a week later, you were on your way to the masquerade ball, and you were scared as fuck.  This, though undeniably for a good cause, wasn’t what you had signed up for when you agreed to work with the Rebellion. This was espionage, you were used to sitting behind a desk, typing up neat reports to send to the Rebellion via paper, something that left little to no digital evidence the Empire could trace back to you.  “You’re nervous,”  It wasn’t a question, Cassian, sitting beside you in the traditional clothes of your personal guard, was simply stating a fact.  And yet you couldn’t admit it, not to him.  “I’m not.”  You glanced over to your driver, the same woman who piloted your starship whenever you needed to leave the planet, who flew you from useless appointment to useless appointment. You trusted her, at least on the basic level you trusted most, if not all, of your employèes, but you couldn’t risk her overhearing anything.  “You’re quite observant,” you told Cassian in your most regal voice, the one reserved for strangers and people you didn’t like. Or at least people other than Cassian you didn’t like, he somehow brought out a version of yourself you rarely showed, one that at the same time made you feel unlike yourself and more yourself than you were at any other time. Maybe he just agitated you so much that you lost all sense of self.  “I’m your guard, it’s my job,” Cassian replied, the hint of warmth his voice had held earlier gone, replaced by the same professionalism you tried your best to conjure up.  You silently cursed Bail for the idea to have Cassian pose as your guard. Admittedly, it clever since it would explain why the two of you would stick together the entire evening, and it was one of only two ways of getting Cassian inside the building. The other being having him pretend to be your date, your boyfriend or even fiancè, which everyone agreed wouldn’t be believable and likely end in injury or death for one or both of you.  Moments of silence, in which every single way this mission could go wrong, crossed your mind, until finally the shining lights of the ballroom came into sight.  “We’ve arrived, ma’am,” your driver announced.  From the way Cassian almost choked beside you, you could tell that he was trying his best to hold back a scoff. A small smile found its way to your lips, it was quite fun seeing Cassian having to deal with all of this. You were raised from birth to one day inherit your mother’s title of Duchess of Kamaanti, to understand, and even appreciate, the protocol that came with the role, the responsibility. But all of this was new to Cassian, and for the first time in quite some time, the first time since he let it slip how he came to leave Kenari, you felt for him.  “Let’s go, Cassian,” you said in a soft voice, hoping neither he nor your driver would misinterpret it as anything more than it was, a friendly way to encourage Cassian to get out there and face whatever the evening had to offer.  You could hear him take a deep breath before he exited the ship and opened the door for you, allowing you to face the flashing lights and people lined up to watch the guests enter the ballroom.  Cassian followed just a few steps behind you as you made your way up the stairs to the main entrance.  “There are more witnesses than expected,” he whispered into your ear just as you reached the top step, the one spot where you were unlikely to be overheard by either guards or spectators.  His warm breath his your ear and for a moment it made you forget just how cold you were in your beautiful, but quite thin, dress in the Coruscant night air.  “That’s just outside, inside there’ll be way less people.”  You continued to walk up to the Imperial officer in charge of greeting the guests, one you knew you had met at a previous event but couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of.  “Your Grace,” he greeted you with a stiff bow, his expression telling you just how much he despised showing his respect to a woman, especially one so much younger than himself.  “Lieutenant, “ you return, guessing his rank based on the medals gleaming on his chest.  Cassian stood behind you, no doubt noticing every detail about the grand entrance hall and the man in front of you, taking note of every exit, surveillance camera, and blaster in the area.  “And who is that with you?”  Despite your best efforts the lieutenant’s question threw you off guard. You weren’t used to having your actions or the people in your company questioned, at least not openly though of course you knew that people talked behind closed doors, not even at an Imperial event.  “This is my personal guard. I was assured that you were told he was accompanying me.”  Cassian stepped ever so slightly closer to you, something you could only tell by the heat radiating off his body intensifying against your back. You had a feeling that if you played close enough attention you could be able to feel his breath hitting the back of your neck where your hair was pulled up.  “You didn’t bring a guard with you last year, or the year before that.”  It wasn’t a question but you nodded nonetheless, trying to hide the unease that you felt at realising that among hundreds, if not thousands, of guests the Empire paid close enough attention to you for even the lieutenant to notice a change in your company.  “Due to the political climate my head of security thought it wise to have some extra protection.”  You didn’t mention the Rebellion, didn’t say that this ball would be a perfect target and it would only make sense for someone as high ranking as yourself to have personal protection. You didn’t need to, the officer, if he knew what was good for him, would let you pass, opting to admit that the situation with the rebels was getting dangerous rather than risking angering you.  “Of course, your Grace. An extra room in your suite for your guard has been prepared prior to your arrival.”  You nodded, playing the part of snob nobility and not granting him a real answer, as you rushed past him, your skirt flowing behind you as you made your way to where you knew the lifts to be located.  “Room 4215,” the lieutenant called after you.  Only as the lift doors closed behind you did you dare to let out the breath you’ve been holding. All of this, lying, deceiving, pretending to be someone you were not, wasn’t your area of expertise, and for the first time you really came to admire Cassian for managing it all so effortlessly.  “Well, that didn’t go as well as I expected,” you started but before you could say anything else Cassian coughed once, then twice. Your agreed upon singal to tell the other that you were being watched.  You turned to face Cassian, who was standing behind you in the corner, trying to get a good look of your surroundings in the process. And there, in the top right corner, was a small camera, almost invisible to the untrained eye.  Cassian looked at you as you pretended not to notice the camera, to not let the Empire know that you were well aware that you were being watched.  Though this was you in your natural environment, embodying your role as duchess of Kamaanti, you were as tense as he had ever seen you. Granted, he hadn’t spent all that much time with you, but the few times you did see each other you always looked more relaxed.  Thinking of the easy smile, comparing your clenched shoulders to your usual posture, brought back memories of your first meeting, and the time directly after it.  It was hot, hotter even than the usual scorching temperatures of Jakku, and Cassian longed to get back to the slightly cooler Yavin, or even just a shower to wash off all the sand and dirt clinging to his sweaty skin.  He was here to meet an important informant, one he had been told couldn’t risk meeting anywhere other than the middle of nowhere.  Wiping sweat from his brow Cassian first thought that the girl he was seeing, probably a few years younger than he himself, must have been a hallucination. There was no way a girl like that, with glowing skin, shining hair, and a radiant smile.  “Stars above, it’s a long way from home,” you said as you jumped off your speeder.  Those were the words, the signal, that told Cassian you really were the one had was supposed to meet.  “Not as long as a desert day,” he replied, telling you that he was the rebel you were told would be waiting for you.  You walked closer to where Cassian was sitting in the shade of a giant rock, just as he jumped up to meet you.  Up close you were even prettier, despite the sand clinging to your hair and your lips chapped from the dry air, you were a vision.  Cassian wasn’t usually one to be at a loss for words when talking to a pretty woman but there was something about you.  “I’m Y/n,” you introduced yourself.  He repeated your name, trying to get used to the unfamiliar sound. It sounded pretty, sophisticated, like the name out of a fairytale.  “Cassian.”  You sat down in the shade, pulling a water bottle from your backpack and talking a sip before offering it to Cassian.  “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”  He chuckled, a sound that had almost become unfamiliar to his own ears. Laughter was hard to come by in the Rebellion but somehow, sitting on this hot as hell planet with you, it came easy to him.  “I could ask you the same thing, you don’t look like a rebel. Far too pretty,” he was quick to add before you could say anything.  You laughed, a sound he longed for more than a cold shower. How he could feel like this only minutes after meeting you, knowing nothing about you but your name, he didn’t know. Cassian wasn’t a stranger to women, he had a healthy sex life, knew how to make females (and the occasional males) swoon over him, but never had he been so captivated by someone as he was by you.  “I’m not exactly a rebel, just an informant.”  You pulled a stack of papers out of your backpack and handed them to him. Cassian flipped through them, finding names, locations, reports, and an envelope filled with credits among them.  You pocketed your water bottle again before getting up and brushing the sand off your trousers.  “Feel free to buy yourself something pretty, Cassian. We all deserve beauty amidst this darkness.” You made your way back to your speeder, leaving a stunned Cassian behind. “And if you’re ever on Kamaanti, feel free to drop by.”  And with those words you were off, leaving Cassian to wonder who exactly you were.  He didn’t have to wonder long though, once he returned to base Mon Mothma answered the pressing question on his mind.  You weren’t just an informant, you were a duchess, nobility, someone who had the power and the money to change the course of the war and yet sat comfortably in your palace, tossing the Rebellion a bone every now and then, probably just to ease your conscience.  Cassian didn’t usually blame people for not joining the Rebellion, everyone had their reasons to fight or to lay low, but if someone held the power you did, and yet did little to nothing, he couldn’t help the burning anger.  Never mind that you were pretty or funny, inside you were little better than the Empire you didn’t stand up to in favour of your own comfort. 

-------

You exited the refresher wearing your ball gown, your hair and makeup done by the stylists who have left just a couple of minutes ago and your handbag, shoes, and mask waiting for you to complete the look.  Cassian, dressed in a smart suit rather than the uniform he had been wearing earlier, sat in the armchair next to your bed, staring at the datapad in his hand.  “Careful, I heard they bite when you glare at them like that,” you tried to joke to lighten the mood.  His tense shoulders didn’t relax, if anything they clenched up even more as his eyes lifted and he looked you up and down.  “How do I look?”  The superficial part of you couldn’t resist the question. You knew you looked good, and you knew that if Cassian even tried to deny it he would be lying.  But Cassian didn’t deny it, instead he looked you up and down, a sudden heat in his eyes you had never seen there before.  You cast a quick glance to the mirror on the other side of the room. Your skin hadn’t magically turned green, not a hair was out of place. The dark blue dress hugged your upper body, hiding all your insecurities in the process, before flowing out in a long silky skirt with a slit up one leg just long enough to be sexy but not too long as to be indecent for the ball.  “What’s the matter, loth cat got your tongue?,” you joked as you slipped your shoes on. You bent down to fasten the ties but before you could Cassian’s voice finally sounded through the room.  “Let me.”  In one smooth motion he got out of his chair and slid onto the floor in front of you, his warm hand gently holding your ankle while the other busied itself with the fastening.  You couldn’t deny that Cassian looked good in his suit, just like your dress it brought out his best features, though you did think it was a shame that he had gelled his hair back, suddenly realising just how much you had grown to like the casual hairstyle he usually had. But there was something about him kneeling in front of you, wearing this suit, that had heat racing up your leg from where he touched you right to your core. A tingling sensation all too familiar, yet one you had never experience with Cassian Andor of all people.  “Is everything alright?,” Cassian aksed, his voice slightly rough, his accent more pronounced, though you blamed it on him concentrating on securing the overly complicated clips and bows around your ankles.  “Fine,” you choked out, a second too late realising that he had been talking about the upcoming evening, the mission, rather than the fact that having him on his knees in front of you did unmentionable things to you.  Finally, he let go of your leg and got up, though he was now standing a bit too close for comfort, his face only centimeters from your own.  “What do you do if we’re being watched?”  You rolled your eyes. Same old Cassian was back, always testing you, believing you to be incompetent.  “Cough twice.”  He nodded, his dark eyes never leaving yours.  “And what do you do while I extract the files?”  You crossed your arms in front of your chest, managing to put a bit more distance between the two of you in the process.  “Stand guard outside the door.”  He nodded again.  “And-”  You uncrossed your arms again, scoffing as you grabbed the mask from the bed and slipped it over the upper half of your face before tying a bow behind your head to fasten it.  “And if someone comes I’ll pretend to be drunk and that I couldn’t find my way back to my room. I know, Andor. I might not be an infamous spy like yourself but I’m not an idiot either.”  You tried your best not to frown, not wanting to smudge your makeup, and instead settled for glaring at him.  Cassian sighed, putting on his own mask.  “I never said you were an idiot, but you spend all your time worrying about where to find money for more of those pretty dresses you always wear.”  Now that made you see red. Was that what Cassian really thought of you? After everything you did for the Rebellion, everything you sacrificed, did people, did he really believe that all you worried about were your looks?  “Listen here you arrogant bantha shit,” you hissed between your teeth, walking over to Cassian until you were chest to chest, your voice dangerously low. “I worry about money, alright, and yes, sometimes I use that money to buy ‘pretty dresses’ but that’s because it’s what’s expected of me as a duchess. You know why I also worry about money? Because I need that money to pay my employèes so they can feed their families, I need that money to fund schools and universities, to give to those who need it, to buy weapons and supplies for your precious rebellion.” You took a deep breath before continuing, glad that you had managed to stun Andor into silence. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, whether you like me or despise me as you so clearly do, but don’t for one second think that I only think about myself. I may not be a rebel in the same way you are but make no mistake, I’m no Imperial either.”  You took a step back, refusing to look at Cassian again as you grabbed your small handbag and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting the room, your head held high and expecting Cassian to follow you like the duchess you were.  The ride down to the ballroom was awkward, filled with an unknown silence and tension, neither of you daring to say anything. But as soon as your arrival was announced and you entered the ballroom all that disappeared and you were in your element. This, even if you hated every single person in the room, was what you were born and raised to do. You may not exactly enjoy it, but you knew what to expect. You knew what people would ask and how they would answer your questions before they even opened their mouths. It wasn’t like it was with Cassian, who never said what you expected him to and would probably rather eat his own shoe than listen to you. Here, with those sharks and piranhas, you could prove your worth to the Rebellion.  “Your Grace, you look stunning,” a young Imperial you didn’t recognise greeted you. He lifted your hand up to place a kiss on the back of it.  “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” you said, at the same time indirectly asking for his name and trying to remind him just how unprofessional it was to just approach a duchess, even as a high ranking officer, without being introduced by a mutual acquaintance.      “Captain Flak Romeis, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  His blond hair gleamed under the light as he looked you up and down in what you were sure he thought to be an inconspicuous way.  “The pleasure is all mine, captain,” you purred, knowing full well that Cassian, who was standing only a step behind you, held the same title as the slimy Imperial in front of you.  “Duchess, it would be a great honour if you granted me a dance.”  His overly formal words in combination with the way he still looked at you send icy shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the heat Cassian had ignited in you just hours before.  Speak of the devil, before you could reply to Flak’s request, Cassian’s hand closed around your wrist, tugging ever so slightly in a manner that was no less unprofessional than the Imperial’s behaviour.  You turned around to face him for the first time since your argument, his hand still holding your wrist in a firm grasp.  “I don’t think it would be wise to dance with him, your Grace,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear, to smell his minty breath and close your eyes to regain your composure.  “And why is that? Surely he doesn’t pose a threat to my safety.”  You blinked up at Cassian, urging him to play the guard, not to blow your cover over a simple dance and some nasty looks.  “Just one dance,” you said, lowering your voice. “And then we can do what we came here for.”  You pulled your hand out of his grasp, placing it on the Imperial’s arm so he could lead you to the dancefloor.  “I hope I didn’t just pull you away from your husband,” he said as you got into position, placing one of your hands in his and the other on his shoulder while his other hand founds its place on your waist.  “Husband?” You couldn’t help but laugh. Both of you were piss poor actors if people believed that Cassian was your husband. “He’s my personal guard. A bit overprotective maybe, it’s the first big event he’s accompanied me to.”  The music began to play and the Imperial took the first steps, leading you into the dance as Cassian watched from the side.  Maybe the playing pretend finally got to him because he felt a wave of protectiveness rise up as he watched Flak’s hand drift lower just a hint, as he pulled you closer, as he made you laugh.  Cassian knew that you were playing a part just as he was, that there was no way you were charmed by an Imperial, especially one as slimy as Captain Flak Romeis. Though you didn’t believe it to be true, as your little speech earlier had shown, Cassian did think highly of you, or at least of your dedication to the Rebellion. He knew what you were risking, that if you were caught it wouldn’t end well for you, that the Empire would make an example out of the unfaithful duchess.  Still watching you float across the dancefloor, Cassian noticed another guard, an actual personal guard, approach him out of the corner of his eye.  “You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”  The question, and the way in which it was asked, managed something only few people ever managed, it made him lose his focus.  Cassian turned to face the other guard, a Twi’lek, dressed in a suit so much like his own.  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” he continued. “I’m hooking up with my charge as well, though she’s nowhere near as good looking as yours. She really is something else. Is there any chance you’re willing to share?”  Though Cassian was no stranger to hooking up with women, sometimes women he had only seen as briefly as the guard had seen you, he did believe that everyone was owed respect, regardless of gender or looks, and you especially.  Yes, Cassian himself had difficulties tearing his eyes away from you in that dress, and a fantasy of ripping it off you had crossed his mind, but hearing someone else talk about you like that made him forget your argument earlier, replaced any anger he had towards you with angers towards the guard.  “You either leave right now and never look at her again or I’ll find you on whatever backwater planet you live on and break your jaw so you won’t ever talk about her like that again, understood?”  The guard didn’t even have a chance to reply before you suddenly appeared in front of Cassian, and as he looked to his side the Twi’lek was gone.  A few strands of your hair had fallen out of place and Cassian’s fingers twitched to push them behind your ear.  “May I have another dance before the night is over?,” the Imperial captain asked, calling Cassian’s attention to the fact that he was standing right there beside you.  Like a bucket of ice water it reminded him of why he had to stay away from you, you were a distraction. A beautiful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless.  “We’ll see, Captain Romeis, I tend to retire quite early.”  The statement was a polite a ‘no’ as you could manage and luckily succeeded in driving him away, leaving you and Cassian alone.  “Are you ready to go exploring, your Grace?” 

-------

The hallway you were walking through was freezing cold, a stark contrast to the stale air in the ballroom, and something that made you appreciate Cassian’s body heat next to you a tiny bit more.  “I was sure your heels would give us way but now I’m beginning to think it’s your clattering teeth,” Cassian whispered under his breath.  You were about to throw him an annoyed comment about how you dressed for a hot ballroom filled with hundreds of people, not an abandoned hallway that even a droid would catch a cold in, when you felt a sudden warmth around your upper body.  You had been too distracted with trying to come up with a witty comment to notice that Cassian, in an act that was as unlike him as dressing up in bright pink would be, had placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.  “I-,” you started before abruptly shutting your mouth. Cassian had just done a nice thing for you, now wasn’t the time for sarcasm. “Thank you.”  A small grunt was all the reply Cassian gave you. You rolled your eyes at his hot-and-cold behaviour, an act that, as childish as it was, saved your asses.  You coughed once. Twice.  Cassian looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to follow your line of sight without being too obvious.  You saw the recognition in his eyes as he spotted the security camera in the corner.  “It’s an IB24, it doesn’t record sound,” he told you, his monotone voice didn’t give you any comfort, but it didn’t give you reason to panic further either.  “Doesn’t mean it’s safe to talk, does it? Whoever watches the footage could still read our lips.” You put your hands in the pockets of Cassian’s jacket, trying to busy yourself so you wouldn’t begin to freak as another thought settled in your head. “They don’t just see two people who aren’t supposed to be here. Cassian, they’ll recognise us, recognise me.”  Your partner scoffed as he reached for the blaster previously hidden by his jacket and shot straight at the camera.  “Listen to you, all concerned about your own kriffing wellbeing.”  You didn’t waste your breath explaining to him that you, being a duchess and not a spy who made a living by staying hidden, were simply more recognisable.  “You’re one to talk, the great spy who doesn’t even see a security camera.”  Cassian, who had already taken a few steps towards the camera to knock it down and destroy the chip inside, turned around and came to stand right in front of you within a few quick strides.  “Listen, mi duquesita, you cannot fuck with me right now. I need to concentrate if this mission is to be successful, and you’re making that damn difficult.”  Though his voice was low, his breath hitting your lips, and his entire being surrounded you in a way that could go south within seconds, you weren’t intimidated.  “Trust me, the last thing I want to do is fuck with you. Or fuck you, for that matter.”  Cassian leaned impossibly closer, one hand reaching up to cup your chin and lift your head so you couldn’t look away from his dark eyes with a dangerous fire burning within.  “Are you sure about that?”  The sheer arrogance in his tone brought you to your senses. How dare he? Who did he think he was, who you were? Did he expect you to fawn over him just because he treated you like an equal for a couple of minutes?  You took a step back, letting Cassian’s hand fall from your chin, breaking the strange hold he had on you even further.  “Let’s just get this over with so we can go upstairs and I go to sleep and dream of being far away from you.  With a chuckle so soft you were sure you must have been imagining it, Cassian finally removed the chip from the camera, stuffing it in the pocket of his trousers before tossing you the broken camera.  “Hold on to that, will you? Can’t leave any more evidence of our visit than absolutely necessary.”  And the rest of your mission really did feel like a visit, like a walk in the park. You found the correct door, Cassian broke in, leaving you standing guard outside, and within a few moments he was back out again, a small smile on his face.  “All done, mi duquesita.”  There was that nickname again. You wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction of admitting that you didn’t know what it meant, by asking for a translation. You spoke three living and two dead languages fluently, so what if you didn’t speak Cassian’s damned language (both metaphorically and in the actual sense)?  “Let’s get out of here.”  You began to walk back the way you had come, glad that for once everything seemed to be going quite well, when you turned around, noticing that Cassian wasn’t following you.  “You coming?”  With a shake of his head he hurried to catch up to you.  “Are you in such a hurry because you can’t wait to dance with Captain whatshisname again?”  There was an unfamiliar venom in his voice, one you could have sworn was unlike anything Cassian had ever directed towards you.  The chance to annoy him further was right there and the words were at the tip of your tongue, but you decided to tell the truth. Partly because Cassian had been a good partner today and you didn’t want to anger him the one time the two of you got along, but mostly because you were simply too exhausted to tell another lie.  “I’ll be glad if I never have to see that guy again,” you admitted, pulling his jacket closer around your body as you tried to stifle a yawn. “I was telling the truth when I said that I just want to sleep.”  From the corner of his eye Cassian looked you up and down before nodding.  “Then let’s take you to bed, your Grace.”  You managed a nod, despite the fact that from his mouth the formal words sounded more like dirty talk than anything else.  The doors to the lift, which you had reached some time during your conversation, opened and you sank against the wall with a relieved sigh.  “I can’t wait to take these kriffing shoes off,” you muttered.  Cassian, from the other side of the lift, smirked at you, one eyebrow raised.  “Foul mouth for a duchess.”  If you only knew, you thought, and you were just about to say it as well, to try and test what it would take to make him lose his cool, what flirting with him would get you, when the doors unexpectedly opened.  The second the gap between the two doors was wider than a centimeter, thereby allowing whoever was outside to actually look inside the lift, Cassian jumped away from the wall until he was face to face with you.  “We have no idea who’s about to enter this lift,” he whispered.  You nodded in response. “Correct.”  “We’re on the ballroom floor, whoever it is knows we didn’t just get on, that we’ve come from downstairs.”  Another nod. There was no need to interrupt him, not when Cassian was clearly trying to come up with a plan to get you out of this situation.  “Do you trust me?,” he asked before quickly correcting himself. “Nevermind, I know that you don’t. But will you play along?”  You barely had the chance to nod before Cassian placed his lips right beneath your ear, kissing you softly.  The gasp you let out was anything but fake. It was a surprise reaction, and one of unexpected pleasure. His lips were soft, a welcome contrast to the rough hairs of his beard, and his hands, that had found their way to your waist, felt good, great even.  As if on autopilot your own hands wandered up his back, settling in his hair, which you finally managed to rough up a bit, bringing it from its combed back style to the wild curls you were used to.  “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.”  Your eyes flew open at the new voice, too distracted by Cassian’s lips on your hot skin to have noticed another person entering the lift.  Shit, shit, shit, shit. Kriffing shit, ran through your mind. Once again you found yourself on autopilot as you pushed Cassian away from you, ignoring how much you missed his hands, his lips, on your body the second they were gone, as you looked at the other man.  “Grand Moff Tarkin, I am so sorry.”  You cursed yourself, this ball, the entire galaxy, that the person you had to be trapped in a lift with was Tarkin. You would have even preferred Darth Vader himself, at least he would have put you out of your misery instantly.  “Duchess.” Tarkin was too professional to look you up and down in what you presumed to be a dishevelled state, or to really look at Cassian, which you should be thankful for. “I noticed you were arriving from the basement, care to explain why?”  “I-,” Cassian began to explain, but for once he actually shut up when you shot him a pointed look.  “We were heading back up to my suite, must have pushed the wrong button in a hurry,” you were quick to explain. The lie slipped off your tongue easier than expected, especially considering you were lying to one of the most powerful men in the Empire while standing next to a leading member of the Rebellion.  “Yes, I can see that you are in quite a hurry.”  Tarkin’s dry tone didn’t give you any hint as to whether he suspected that something was amiss. Cassian, despite his experience in situations like this, must have been feeling the same way, since his arm once again sneaked around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.  His hand sneaked lower, from your waist to your hip until it rested right on your ass, an act alone that made heat curl in your stomach, but when he gave it a soft squeeze you couldn’t help the small yelp.  Well, as embarrassing as this was in front of Tarkin, at least now you had a better chance of actually selling your story.  As you tried to think of a way to reciprocate Cassian’s action, and coming up short due to his hand still firmly placed on your ass, the lift dinged. Your breath caught in your throat, fearing that even more Imperials would get on, but luck seemed to be on your side as Tarkin, his eyes like ice, looked you straight into the eyes.  “Goodnight, your Grace, sir.”  He left without uttering another word and only once the doors closed behind him did you dare to take a deep breath.  Though he visibly relaxed, Cassian’s hand never left your body. Instead he leaned closer to your, whispering into your ear in a voice that was nothing if not sinful.  “Tell me to stop any time and I will.”  Before you could ask what he was talking about he once again caught your chin between his fingers, turning and lifting your head until he crashed his lips against yours.  If you had thought his kisses felt good against your neck, they were no comparison to having his lips on yours. They were warm, soft, and as your hands once again found their way to his hair and you gave it a single instinctatious tug, they opened for you, allowing you to let your tongue roam freely across his bottom lip and into his mouth, where his own tongue met yours with enthusiasm.  You pressed your body closer to Cassian, needing to feel more, to feel every part of him against every part of you. At the same time his hand left your ass, moving all over your body, leaving trails of hire in its wake, until one hand found its place on your waist, pulling you even closer, and the other began to caress your neck, applying just a tiny hint of pressure.  Your eyes, though firmly closed, rolled back in your head as your hips moved towards his, needing more, more, more.  Suddenly the lift came to a stop, bringing you out of your haze and reminding you that you needed to breathe.  As the doors slid opened Cassian slowly leaned away from you, though nothing more than a sheet of paper would have fit between your bodies even with the newfound distance.  “Wanna finish what we started, pequeña?”  He didn’t have to ask twice. The fact that the man in front of you was Cassian Andor, the person you hated almost as much as the Empire itself, who got on your nerves and never let an opportunity to show you just how inferior he thought you go by, never crossed your mind. Or at least not in the way that it should. Of course you knew that you had just made out with Cassian, but somehow it didn’t bother you as much as it should. Maybe it was because the entire day he had been decent, if not even friendly, towards you, or the fact that there have been heated looks and touches all day that had seemingly only lead to this, or that you were actually beginning to like him when his mouth was occupied with something other than frowning.  “Lead the way, Captain.”  The title simply rolled off your tongue, but as you saw the way Cassian’s shoulders tensed as he exited the lift before you, you noted to use it more often.  As soon as the door to your suite closed behind you, Cassian turned you around, pressing you to the closed door, as his lips found yours again.  The kiss was less heated than that in the lift, more sensual, slower, allowing you to notice all the small details. How soft Cassian’s hair was between your fingers, the scar along the back of his head, the sharp sting as his teeth sank into your bottom lip only for it to be soothed by his tongue. And his hands.  Oh, his hands would surely be the death of you. They roamed all along your body, caressing and squeezing, pushing his jacket, that you still had wrapped around you, to the ground, giving him better access to your neck.  You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you as he kissed from your jaw down your neck all the way to the beginning of your dress.  He leaned back a bit, making your hands fall from his hair, as he just looked at you.  Though a moment before you had been sure that Cassian wanted you as much as you wanted him, doubt suddenly began to creep up.  “What is it?,” you whispered into the dark room, illuminated only by the city lights outside the window.  Cassian shook his head, licked his lips, and shook his head again.  “Nothing.” He stepped closer to you again, placing his hands on your waist, his thumbs slowly stroking your sides. “I just can’t decide whether I want to finally take this dress off of you or fuck you in it.”  The contrast between his soft caresses, his low voice, and his filthy words, made you clench your thighs together. You were insatiable when it came to this man. “Why not do both?” You bit your bottom lip at the possibility, at the thought of simply feeling more of Cassian’s skin against yours. “Or can you only go one round?” Your bold words shocked you, and it wasn’t until you heard Cassian chuckle that you stopped wanting to take them back. From his earlier actions you had presumed that Cassian would prefer a more submissive partner in bed, and you were happy to take that role, but apparently your banter would have a place inside the bedroom as well as out of it.  “You have no idea what I can do, mi duquesita.” His lips found your neck again, gently sucking on the vulnerable skin. “I don’t just plan on fucking you with my cock, I’ll make you come with my tongue first. I’ll have you begging for me.”  You rolled your eyes, playfully this time, as you looked at him with a smirk. You had to admit that Cassian really knew how to build tension but you wouldn’t beg for anyone, anything.  Instead of giving him an answer your hands reached out for his shirt, beginning to unbutton it to grant you access to his skin. Cassian, for once deciding that helping you would be in his best interest, loosened the tie he was wearing around his neck before pulling it over his head.  Finally, you managed to rid him of the bothersome shirt, and get a good look at him. He was well-built, defined but not overly muscular. Scars littered his skin, some large, some small, as well as what seemed to be a rather new bruise. Though you knew that Cassian was in constant danger, that he had probably escaped death more than once, seeing it with your own eyes brought a sense of protectiveness over you you hadn’t experienced before.  You lifted your hands to gently stroke across his shoulders, down his chest, lingering a little longer on each scar. You stepped closer as Cassian watched you carefully, taking note of every slight change of expression.  “Cassian, I... you’re beautiful.”  The words, maybe the truest words you had ever spoken, slipped past your lips. He really was beautiful. Not just because he was handsome, though of course he was, but because his scars told of his struggles, his dedication to the Rebellion, his willingness to risk his life for the good of the galaxy. With soft touches you stroked along every inch of his skin you could reach, hearing his breath stutter as you lips began to follow your fingers. His skin tasted different than his lips, saltier, earthier, but also truer, not altered by anything he ate or drank.  You placed a soft kiss just above his heart, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.  It was that simply action that broke the spell Cassian was under. He bent down until his lips met yours in another kiss, tongues battling for dominance, until he broke the kiss only to fall to his knees in the next instance.  “What are you doi- oh, oh fuck, Cassian,” you exclaimed as it dawned on you.  Cassian, on his knees and his eyes focused solely on his task, took your ankles and gently pushed them to the sides, allowing your legs and thighs to spread further.  “I told you I’d make you come with my tongue,” he said with a smirk before lifting your skirt and diving underneath.  You could barely see him, with most of his upper body hidden beneath your dress, which somehow made it even hotter, leaving you to anticipate his next action, his next touch.  Gently he stroked up your legs, alternating between kissing each of your thighs, sometimes adding a little bite to the mix, until he reached your center.  One hand placed firmly on your waist he took the finger of the other hand to stroke up and down your covered slit.  “Shit, pequeña, you’re soaked.” His finger found your clothed clit and applied gentle pressure, which turned your insides into lava and made your knees buckle. You needed him.  Cassian slipped his finger, still just the one finger, underneath your panties until it rested on your skin, right on your lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the skin just above your panties, not moving his finger.  “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he reminded you, not giving you a chance to reply before he finally, fucking finally, slipped his finger inside you.  The groan he let out at the contact was almost as loud as your own. He moved a bit, trying to get a feel of you, trying to resist to overwhelm you but overcome with desire to feel more of your tight, wet heat at the same time.  ”I’ll buy you a new pair,” he said more to himself than to you, and before you could ask what he was talking about you heard the telltale sound of cloth being ripped apart. Cassian had just torn you underwear from your body.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved his finger, and just as he entered your pussy his mouth came into contact with your clit, sucking once, twice, as his finger began to thrust into you.  You had heard talk around the rebels that Cassian had game, that he wasn’t a stranger to taking other rebels to bed or even seducing informants to get what he needs, but you had never really believed any of it. Sure, maybe he had a one night stand every now and then, but so did most people in the Rebellion, you had been so sure that there was no way that Cassian Andor could be as good as the talk suggested.  That was until he brought you to a mindblowing orgasm within an embarrassingly short time.  “Ca- Cass- Fuck,” you stuttered pressing your thighs against his head, trying to draw him closer as waves of pleasure swept over you.  Cassian hummed against your core, taking everything you would give him, still sucking your clit while his hands, though slowing down, massaged your tight walls.  As the last of your orgasm ebbed away, Cassian finally crawled out from underneath your dress, and looked up at you still on his knees, wetness coating his mouth, making his beard seem darker than usual.  “You ready for me to make you beg?”  Despite how quickly he had managed to make you come, and the fact that seeing him like that made you wet all over again, you shook your head.  “In your dreams, Andor.”  He chuckled as he got up, leaning close to you as his mouth found the shell of your ear.  “How did you know what I dream about?,” he whispered, his hand sneaking up your back until you suddenly felt a gush of cold air against your skin.  Cassian had, in one smooth motion, pulled the zipper of your dress down. He looked at you, waited for your slight nod, before pulling at the fabric, making the dress fall off your body until it pooled around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but a bra and shoes.  “Eres mas hermosa que la luz de las estrellas,” Cassian breathed against your lips. His hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing and massaging, and twisting your nipples just right.  “Wait, Cassian, stop,” you gasped as he took one nipple in his mouth through the thin fabric of your bra, sucking in a way that made you see stars. What gave that man the right to be so kriffing good with his mouth?  He immediately let go of you, putting some distance between your bodies, though his hand itched to touch you again, even if just to soothe any harm he might have caused.  “What is it, pequeña? Did I do something wrong?”  He had tried his best to be gentle, to take it slow, not to let his desire overcome him. This was a step in the right direction and he didn’t dare do anything to jeopardize it.  You shook your head, your hand reaching out to take Cassian’s, who let out a relieved breath.  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just... Don’t you want me to... You know...,” you said, suddenly shier than Cassian had ever seen you as you motioned towards the obvious bulge in his trousers.  Yes, his dick was aching for relief, but he knew that this might be his one chance with you and he wouldn’t blow it by making this all about him and his pleasure.  He shook his head. “Not right now.”  You raised an eyebrow, waited a moment, as if to get him to admit that yes, he did want you to get on your knees for him as he had done for you earlier. But he didn’t say anything.  “Just lay on the bed and let me make you feel good, alright?”  It was a question, nothing like the commands he usually spat out at you, and yet you followed more willingly than you had ever done before.  Sex with Cassian wasn’t like you had imagined it, not that you had imagined it a lot, but when you heard talk around the rebels you couldn’t help but imagine at least a bit. Also whenever you looked at him before he opened his mouth to snap at you, or when you caught him looking at you like he was right now, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Not to mention the instant crush you had developed after actually meeting him for the first time, one that quickly burned out after your second meeting.  You got on the bed, lying down still in your bra and shoes, as Cassian crawled over you, his naked chest meeting your clothed one. You didn’t wait to see what he would do, instead hungry for more, you leaned up, capturing his mouth with yours, returning to the heated kisses from earlier.  He returned the kiss with just as much eagerness, licking into your mouth as his hands once again found their way to your breasts. Your own hands wandered across his back, relishing in the feeling of his skin, feeling every inch of softness, contrasted by rough scars.  Despite his earlier insistence on wanting to focus on you, Cassian couldn’t help himself and began to move his hips, agonisingly slow, against yours, making your still sensitive clit rub against the fabric of his trousers.  Your hands found their way to his ass, using the new leverage to push him further down, to give you more contact where you craved it most.  “Cassian, I need you,” you breathed against his lips, trying your best to hold back the ‘please’ that sat on the tip of your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging.  He nodded slightly, moving one of his hands from your breast to rub slow circles onto your clit.  Your entire body felt like fire, like ice, you couldn’t focus on anything but Cassian’s hands on your body, his lips gracing your neck, his erection pressing painfully hard against your core.  Your hands were forced to leave his ass as he sat up on his knees, quickly pulling his trousers and underwear off in one motion, before returning to his position above you, pressing hungry kisses to your lips.  “Are you sure about this?”  Instead of an answer you moved your hips up, giving Cassian delicious friction as his cock met your wet pussy for the first time. The moan he let out was sinful, pornographic, and you could have almost come from the sound alone.  You reached down, feeling his erection in the palm of your hand, giving is a few good strokes before gently placing the tip right at your entrance.  “Show me what you got, Captain,” you told him with a smirk.  Cassian bottomed out in one swift stroke, not giving you the chance for another witty remark, instead making you moan as he filled you just right. It was a stretch, but not an uncomfortable one, as if he was meant to be right there.  You began to move your hips, trying to get Cassian to move as well, to give you more, when he pushed you down with a heavy breath, making you halt your movements.  “Shit, pequeña, give me a moment. I need- need to-,” he groaned as you ignored his request, moving your legs this time, wrapping them around his waist, pushing him impossibly deeper into your heat.  Cassian looked at you with new fire in his eyes. “You wanna play dirty?”  He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he pulled out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and slammed back in with newfound vigour. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to moan, to even breathe, all you could do was think that you wanted more, needed more, that maybe he’d have you begging for him after all.  He set a rough pace, slamming in and out of you again and again until you were finally able to adjust and move your hips in sync with his. Your hands wandered up to his head, pulling him down in a bruising kiss, biting his lips, licking into his mouth. What had started as sex, as making love almost, had quickly turned into fucking, but by the stars it brought you closer and closer to the edge.  As you felt yourself nearing another orgasm, needing just a little bit more to push you over the edge, you removed one of your hands from Cassian’s hair with the intent of giving some attention to your aching clit.  Cassian, however, quick as a whip, caught both your hands in one of his, pinning them above your head with a shake of his head.  “Not so fast. I told you I’d have you begging.”  You couldn’t think of a reply, could barely even shake your head, with his fast pace, the way his cock hit that spot over and over again.  To hell with your pride.  “Please, please, Cassian, make me come. I need it, Captain, I need you.”  You felt his cock twitch inside of you, grinning as you had seemingly found his weak spot. Nevermind that begging was something you were usually too proud to do, especially with a man in the bedroom, if it brought Cassian that close to the edge you could use it to your advantage. Add to that your newfound knowledge of how much he liked being addressed by his title and you knew you could tease him for the rest of his days.  “You fuck me so good, Captain. Please let me come,” you whispered in his ear.  The hand around your wrists began to shake ever so slightly, telling you just how much you were really affecting him. His other hand finally found its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles that rapidly began to increase in speed. You had him right where you wanted him, and he still thought he was the one in control.  “I knew you’d beg,” he grinned, supposed victory obvious in your voice.  You came. Your vision went white, ecstasy burned through your veins. You couldn’t remember having an orgasm like this ever before.  Cassian continued to fuck you through it, his pace never slowing down as he began to near his own end. He began to stutter just as you calmed down, making him lose control for a moment, just long enough for you to gather all your energy and twist your bodies, making you end up on top of Cassian, who suddenly found himself on his back.  “Wha- what are you doing?”  You grinned down at him as you sat up on your knees, slowly beginning to bounce on his cock.  “You didn’t think I would be the only one to beg, did you, Captain?,” you asked in a sickly sweet voice before leaning down again, pressing your tits against his chest, pushing your hips down at the same time as your lips reached his mouth. “I bet you sound real pretty when you ask me to make you come.”  Cassian could do nothing but thrust his hips up, unable to regain control as you clenched around him, bringing him ever closer to the edge but not close enough.  You continued bouncing, clenching, stroking your clit with one hand while the other was placed firmly above Cassian’s racing heart. You truly were a vision to behold, tits bouncing, face twisted in pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream. Cassian was sure that in that moment he could die a happy man, or almost happy at least, he still needed to come. The thought of releasing inside of you, of marking you where no one else would see it, made him go feral, push his hips up further, faster. And just as he was about to come, you halted your movements.  “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?,” you laughed. The hand above his heart wandered along his chest, up his neck where it came to rest. You squeezed gently, not enough to make him lose his breath, just enough to tell him that you could, to remind him that you were now the one in control.  You began to move again, clenching even tighter around his dick, telling him that you were about to come again while not giving him enough to join you.  “Shit, mi duquesita, you want me to beg? Fine, I’ll beg,” Cassian grunted, no longer caring that you were using his own tactic against him. “Please, I beg of you, let me come, make me come. I’ll do whatever you want.”  The image of Cassian on his knees flashed before your eyes again. You supposed that having him eating you out once more before you’d have to leave in the morning would be enough to grant him an orgasm right now.  Your hand around his neck tightened, as did your walls around his cock. Your bounces became faster again, deeper, as Cassian pushed himself up to meet you halfway. Just as you felt yourself nearing another orgasm a hot rope of cum caught you by surprise, leading you to quickly give way to pleasure again.  Coming together with Cassian was almost poetic, your moans, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin, and heavy breathing filled the air before you finally fell down on top of him, utterly spend.  Your head came to rest on his shoulder, his now softening dick still buried deep inside of you. Cassian’s hand stroked up and down your back, every now and then playfully squeezing your ass.  “That was...,” he began before stopping. There were no words to describe what that was. It was unlike any sex he had ever had.  “Yeah,” you admitted, relaxing even more against him.  You felt your eyes beginning to drop, your breathing to even, and maybe you had fallen asleep for a little while when you suddenly felt yourself moving.  Opening your eyes again you realised that Cassian had carried you over to the bathroom. He put you down, holding you a moment longer to make sure that your feet would carry you, before nodding in the direction of the toilet.  “I’ll leave you to it.”  He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the bathroom, alone with your thoughts.  You slept with Cassian Andor. The Cassian Andor, the one you couldn’t stand, who you were pretty sure couldn’t stand you either, and it was good, great even. You let out a sigh as you went about your business in the bathroom, shaking your head as you flushed the toilet and grabbed a clean cloth to at least try to clean the bed enough to sleep in it tonight.  But as you re-entered the room you were caught by surprise once again. Cassian had stripped the bed, leaving nothing but the bare mattress, blankets and pillows. He handed you a bottle of water as you stepped closer.  “I think it might be best if we both sleep in my bed tonight,” he said as you drank almost the entire bottle in one go.  Too tired to argue, to explain why that would be a bad idea, you simply nodded your head, following Cassian to the other room and sitting down on his slightly smaller bed.  “Do you need anything else?”  You shook your head as you sank down onto the bed, burying your head in the soft pillows. You were fast asleep before Cassian could even turn off the lights. 

-------

The next morning Cassian woke to your soft snores next to him.  Though he had placed his arms around you last night, you had drifted away from him in your sleep, giving him a good view of your face. You looked younger in your sleep, peaceful, less troubled. Looking at your innocent face now Cassian couldn’t understand how he could once have thought you to be an enemy, someone who only gave the Rebellion just enough to get your own gain. Over time, but especially last night, he had come to realise that he had been wrong about you. He now understood that though you didn’t do as much as you maybe could, it was for a good reason, you couldn’t risk gaining unwanted attention, putting everyone you laid your life on the line to protect in danger.  His eyes drifted away from your sleeping face towards the clock on the nightstand, which made his heart race for a whole other reason.  You were late.  Quickly he got dressed, threw the essentials into a duffle bag, and shook your shoulder.  “Wake up, we need to catch the next ship out of here if we’re to deliver the list in time.”  You blinked, lights rapidly attacking your eyes, only to see Cassian, already dressed, standing over you. It took you a moment to remember the events of last night, how you had ended up naked in his bed, but once the memories returned, so did your usual anger at him.  Was he really about to pretend that last night hadn’t happened? Go back to business as usual?  Without another word you threw on your underwear, a pair of comfortable trousers and a simply blouse before taking the bag Cassian offered you and sneaking out of the room together.  You tried your best to act as if the man next to you was nothing more than a guard once again, putting on an act for any Imperials who might be watching.  “Are you leaving us already?,” the same lieutenant who had greeted you last night asked as you were about to exit the building.  You nodded. “There are urgent matters I need to attend to back home. No rest for the wicked and all that.”  He seemed to believe you, to not notice the uncertainty in your voice, and let you pass to hurry to the waiting speeder.  The journey to Yavin 4, the rebel base you had only visited once before, was uneventful. You and Cassian barely shared more than a few words, though admittedly you were always surrounded by either your staff oder Imperial border controls, which did make speaking about last night rather difficult.  Finally at base, having sent all but your most trusted staff ahead to Kamaanti, you turned to face Cassian for what felt like the first time in an eternity.  He looked at you, an expression on his face that you had never seen before. His brows were drawn, his lips pressed into a thin line. If you didn’t know any better you would have said he seemed uncertain, nervous almost.  You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to set the tone for the conversation. On the way over you had planned it all out, you were going to say that though you didn’t regret anything, and though the sex was great, it didn’t change things between you, it couldn’t.  “Captain Andor, Mon Mothma wants to speak to you,” a Togruta woman you didn’t know told him in passing.  Cassian’s eyes scanned your face as if to anticipate your reaction.  “You should go,” you told him, trying your best not to sound disappointed. Right now you were prepared to have this conversation with him, you didn’t know if you’d be as prepared later. “We’ll talk later.”  With a nod and one last look at you over his shoulder Cassian made his way to give the mission report. You’d still be there when he came back, he would only be gone a couple of minutes and it seemed as if you wanted to talk just as much as he did, you wouldn’t run.  But ‘later’ turned into days, weeks.  By the time Cassian returned from the briefing you were long gone, needed for an emergency on Kamaanti, ironically the same excuse you had given the Imperial lieutenant earlier that day.  Cassian couldn’t reach you, he didn’t know how to, the only people in the Rebellion who could actually reach you were Ahsoka Tano and Bail Organa and it wasn’t like Cassian could just go over to either of them and tell them that he needed to talk to you.  It wasn’t until almost two months later that he heard from you again. He had just returned from a mission, rather short and easy compared to what he was used to, when he ran into Ahsoka on the way back to his room.  “Captain Andor, there you are,” she said more to herself than to Cassian, though he still heard her.  “Is something the matter?”  The Togruta shook her head, lekkus moving with it. “No, everything’s fine. The Duchess of Kamaanti was just looking for you earlier.”  The words caught Cassian off guard. By now he had convinced himself that he wouldn’t hear from you again, that he should put what happened between the two of you in the past.  “Where is she?” He knew he sounded impatient, probably shouldn’t talk to Ahsoka like this, but he needed to see you, to finally have that talk he had been waiting for for months.  A small smirk found the way to Ahsoka’s lips at his urgency. “She left, she was only here to drop something off.”  Cassian nodded, forcing down a sigh. Of course you had slipped through his fingers again.  Yet another month went by until he heard from you again.  Cassian was called into a meeting early in the morning, earlier than usual that is, and he was just about to close his eyes for a second, just one second, after yet another sleepless night staring at reports and mission plans, when he heard your name.  “-and Klieml will attend the dinner, during which there is sure to be talk.”  Cassian cursed himself internally for not paying attention that very second. The meeting, though important,  didn’t really concern him, not when he had so many other things to do, and some much needed sleep to catch up on. What had they said? Why would they send Janna Klieml on a mission with you instead of him?  “Because, Captain Andor, this is an important mission and we cannot risk either of you messing it up with that little feud of yours,” Mon Mothma said matter of factly, making Cassian realise that in his sleep deprived state he had actually asked his questions out loud.  Cassian couldn’t do anything except nod. He could argue, try to convince Mon Mothma that  he should be the one to accompany you, later when there were less people around. Though even then he had no idea how to convince her, how to explain to her that he didn’t hate you anymore, probably never hated you but only your title and that it was one you actually did your best to use not only to your own, but the Rebellion’s, advantage.  “As I was saying,” Mon Mothma continued. “The Duchess will hopefully get valuable information during the dinner while Klieml will try to get General Truks’s staff to talk.”  The rest of the meeting went by quickly, Cassian tried his best to pay better attention, to not let your upcoming mission consume his thoughts. But as soon as everyone else left the room he walked straight over to Mon Mothma.  “I think I should be send on this mission instead of Klieml. I accompanied her to the masquerade ball a while back, Imperials have already seen the two of us together, if would be less suspicious than having her show up with a new personal guard.”  Mon Mothma looked him up and down, clearly trying to asses the situation, to find out Cassian’s motivation for asking for this mission.  “Andor,” she finally said. “We both know that the Duchess has a big staff, multiple guards, and that it wouldn’t be suspicious for her to have another guard accompany her, a female guard at that, especially to this dinner. So if you want to convince me to give you this mission you’ll have to give me the real reason you want it.”  Cassian, skilled spy that he was, knew that lying would be pointless. Not only would Mothma be able to see through any lie, it wouldn’t get him what he wanted anyway.  “I need to speak to the Duchess, we have unfinished business. I also know her better than Klieml, we’ve worked together before and had to come up with plans on the spot. Despite our differences we’re a good team.”  He looked her straight in the eyes, not knowing whether he had given her enough to convince her.  “I’m going to give you this mission against my better judgement, but know that if you fail there will be consequences, not just for you, but for the entire Rebellion.” Cassian nodded. He had anticipated that much, after all, what mission was without consequences? But if that meant he’d have the chance to talk to you, even if just to make sure that your relationship hadn’t taken a turn for the worse, he’d take it. 

-------

Cassian came to regret his decision as soon you he laid eyes on you.  He had been waiting in your personal library for you to show up so he could accompany you to the dining room, where you would greet your guest. Finally the door opened and you walked through. It wasn’t your dress that caught his attention, though it was of course stunning, but rather the look in your eyes. “Cassian,” you said, clearly trying not to let any emotions show.   He didn’t know what to do other than to repeat your name in the same astonished voice. He cleared his throat. Once, twice.  “I don’t think right now is a good time to talk,” you finally said after a moment of silence.  “We should talk,” Cassian said at the same time.  You stepped closer to him, closing the door behind you, looking the two of you into a room with nothing else but a thousand books.  Cassian could smell your perfume in the air, the same scent you had worn that fateful night, the same scent that reminded him of your moans, the taste of your skin. He had to get this off his chest now, otherwise he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully concentrate on the mission.  “We have a dinner, a mission, we-,” you stopped talking as Cassian stepped closer, as he placed his hand on your cheek.  He began to stroke the soft skin of your cheek, relishing the touch of your skin against his, longing to place his lips on yours once more.  “We have enough time for one conversation, mi duquesita,” he insisted.  You nodded your head, unable to stop yourself. Deep down you knew, same as Cassian, that you needed to get this out of the way now in order to be able to concentrate during the dinner.  “I wont apologise for what happened on Coruscant, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Cassian stated, making you shake your head.  You hadn’t been looking for an apology, weren’t going to issue one either.  You had spent countless hours thinking of your next encounter with Cassian, planning every single word ahead of time, only to now find yourself speechless in his presence.  “I think that maybe it’s good that it happened, that we did what we did. Maybe it was what we needed in order to release some tension.”  Cassian could only nod along with your words. He had been thinking along the same lines. As soon as he kissed you for the first time all the tension, the hate, that usually floated between the two of you had disappeared. Maybe that was what your relationship was supposed to be like, heated tension building until you could release it in a physical way.  “Maybe we should keep it going,” you suggested, your voice wavering ever so slightly as you spoke again.  Though this was something Cassian himself had thought as well he was somewhat surprised to hear it out of your mouth. He gently stroked along your cheek with the hand that was still holding your face. He knew, as did you, that it would be a good arrangement, it would help you release not only the tension between the two f you that endangered neither your own lives nor the Rebellion, while at the same time giving you an outlet for all the stress said dangerous lives led to.  “Just casual sex?”  You nodded, confirming the deal. “Nothing more. Enemies with benefits, so to say.”  Cassian leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours as your hands found their way to his hips.  “Are we enemies, mi duquesita?”  His low voice and that nickname made you clench your thighs. It brought back memories you really shouldn’t think about right before an important dinner. That’s what was so great about this, you didn’t have to think of Cassian, not the way you would think of a romantic partner, while going about your day to day life, while behind closed doors you could indulge in all the sinful ways he could offer you pleasure.  “We’re not friends.”  A small smirk found its way to Cassian’s lips as he leaned impossibly closer, letting his breath ghost over your own lips.  “No, we’re not friends,” he repeated in a teasing voice that brought a smile to your lips, the first genuine smile all day. “And I don’t think we ever will be.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, chaste and almost sweet, but the moment you tried to deepen it he pulled away again.  “We’re something else entirely,” he whispered.  And just as you were about to reply a knock on the door and a quiet voice from the hallway told you that your guest had arrived. 

------- 

While a lot could be said about the dinner, it wasn’t boring.  General Willem Trusk had recently been promoted and was now an Imperial officer of great standing, highly trusted by Tarkin, and it was rumoured even by the Emporer himself. He was also surprisingly funny and good looking for a ruthless fascist, which you had known before, this being your fourth meeting and second private dinner with him, but it shocked you every time.  “I must admit, there is never a dull moment with you, Duchess.”  You shook your head as you lifted your wine glass to your slips, trying to hide the small smile on your lips. Sure, he was a terrible person, but he was still a good looking man your age who had just complimented you.  “Please, I think we’re way beyond such formalities. I would like for you to call me by my first name.”  Other than you Trusk didn’t even try to hide his smile. You knew you had him right where you wanted him. It took every bit of self control you had not to glance over to the corner of the room where Cassian stood, once again wearing the uniform of your personal guard.  You knew Cassian would have to leave soon, to mingle with the staff Trusk had brought with him and try to get information out of them, but right now you took comfort in knowing that he was here, and that you had come to an arrangement about your relationship.  “You have been kind enough to invite me for dinner twice now, I think it is about time I repaid the favour, though of course I don’t have a palace as grant as yours. There is however a very nice dinner party for high-ranking Imperial officers soon and it would be an honour if you were to accompany me,” Tusk said, looking you straight in the eye while he spoke as if searching for awe in them. “Usually only spouses are allowed to accompany officers but I’m sure they’d make an exception for the Duchess of Kamaanti.”  The words echoed in Cassian’s brain as he made his way through the servants’ hallway to the kitchen. Another guard, an actual guard this time, had taken his place, and he was now supposed to get any information he could gather out of the General’s own staff. One was a pretty Twi’lek girl, one he would usually flirt with until she gave him what he wanted, but right now, whenever he thought of a pick up line or anything else to say to her, your face kept popping up in his brain.  He finally reached the kitchen, which was almost quiet now that dinner and desert had been served, and it only took him a moment to spot the Twi’lek girl he thought to be his best chance to get information.  Cassian grabbed a piece of bread and some cheese from an abandoned plate before making his way over to her. He casually leaned against the whole, breaking off half of his bread to offer to her.  “You must be hungry.” Not the smoothest way to start a conversation but better than nothing.  But the girl just shook her head. “I was given a good dinner. The Duchess is very generous.”  Cassian just nodded. He had barely managed to keep you out of his head for a few moment and yet there you were again.  “You’re lucky to be working for someone as kind as she is,” the girl continued and it took all of Cassian’s strength not to roll his eyes. Of course he just had to have chosen the one servant who didn’t enjoy gossip.  “Though if all goes to plan of course I will be working for her as well very soon.”  This finally managed to catch Cassian off guard. He tore off another piece of bread, quickly chewing before asking whether she was going to quit her job with the General to come working for you.  The Twi’lek shook her head with a laugh that seemed genuine, almost as if she was laughing about Cassian.  “I meant that surely the will combine their staff once they’re married. I supposed the General will move to Kamaanti to be closer to his wife and-”  Cassian held up a hand, interrupting her before she could say anything else. His brain was working so hard there might as well be steam coming out of his ears. Were you engaged to that Imperial? How could no one have told him? Why didn’t you?  “I had no idea they were that serious,” he finally said, trying his best to swallow the last bit of cheese despite his suddenly very dry throat.  She laughed again and this time the sound was beginning to anger Cassian.  “They’re not. Not yet at least, but the General is going to propose very soon. He needs a wife, all the high ranking officers have one and the Duchess is the perfect candidate. She’s powerful, wealthy, beautiful, and he actually seems to like her, something that cannot be said for all married officers.”  She spoke matter of factly, as if expecting Cassian to already know all of this. If he really were working for you he probably would, but Imperial marriages weren’t her area of expertise.  “Rumour also has it that the General is going to be given some big secret task, so maybe he wants to settle down before that, to have someone to lean on if he is given more responsibility,” she added, and before Cassian could say anything else, try to get any information out of her regarding said task, a young servant boy entered the kitchen, saying that the General was leaving and that you were asking for Cassian. 

-------

Cassian slammed the door shut behind him, making you jump from where you sat at you vanity, applying moisturiser.  You turned around, a deadly look in your eyes.  “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,” you started. “And don’t slam doors again.”  Cassian couldn’t even look at you, not now that he knew that those same eyes had just looked at an Imperial as your potential husband, that those lips had smiled at him, maybe even kissed him. Rage took over his body, rage that he had worked his entire life to keep under control, and yet you somehow brought it out without saying a single word. Or maybe because you didn’t say a word.  “When were you going to tell me that you’ll marry him?”  The words were out before Cassian could stop himself.  You looked him up and down and Cassian couldn’t tell whether you were thinking of what to say or waiting for him to continue.  “I wasn’t aware that my personal life was any of your business,” you finally said, getting up from your vanity and pulling on the robe that had been hanging over the chair.  Cassian didn’t pay any attention to the soft silk adorning your nearly naked body, nor the thin pyjama that covered very little and even then was almost see through. How could you not see how dangerous a game you were playing?  “This isn’t personal, it’s about the Rebellion. What do you think your husband would do if he found out? Do you think he’d be merciful?”  You scoffed. With slow steps you walked over to Cassian until you were standing right in front of him, your naked feet touching the tips of his shoes, your chests almost pressed together.  “Of course it’s about the Rebellion, what do you think why I’m doing this? I don’t love him, I don’t even like him, but he’s more powerful than I could ever hope to be.” A sad smile crossed your lips. “Can you imagine the information he has? What I could get my hands on as his wife?”  Cassian could. As the General’s wife you would have the highest ranking Imperials over as dinner guests, would be part of the inner circle and gain knowledge you simply cannot right now. The rational part of him knew that it was a good plan, and yet he disliked it.  He lifted his hand, slowly stroking along your cheekbone with his index finger before cupping your face in his hand and leaning his forehead against yours.  “Please, be careful.” He took a deep breath, the words flowing freely from his mouth. “I’ve lost so many friends, good friends, I cannot lose you too.”  You lifted your hand to run it through his hair, a gesture so soft it made Cassian sigh due to the comfort it brought. He didn’t remember the last time someone had touched his as gently as you did, the last time someone made him feel as at home as you did.  “I wasn’t aware that we’re friends,” you whispered, your lips now ghosting over his own. “Just a few hours ago we weren’t, and until a couple of weeks ago we were basically sworn enemies.”  Cassian opened his mouth but before any words could get out you pressed your lips against his, capturing them in a heated kiss.  “You’re right,” he panted as he pressed sloppy kisses down your neck, pushing your dressing gown out of the way to gain access to all the skin your pyjama showed. “We’re not friends.”  The way he said it set your whole body on fire. In the end if didn’t even matter what you called yourself, all that mattered was the way Cassian made you feel with a few whispered words, with his lips and tongue and fingers. And his cock.  You could already feel it pressing against your lower stomach, hard and firm even through the tick material of his trousers.  You hadn’t had the opportunity last time but now you were dying to taste him, to bring him pleasure with just your hands and mouth. You no longer wanted him to beg for you, you wanted own him.  Just as you were about to sneak a hand to the button of his trousers, Cassian began to suck on the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, a place so obvious and visible you would for sure have to cover it tomorrow.  “You’re mine,” Cassian said, his voice loud and clear, as he leaned away to fully look at what you were sure was a hickey that would stand out for days to come.  His words made you clench your thighs together, you were sure that by now you had soaked through not only your underwear but also your thin pyjama shorts.  The way he looked at you only underlined his words. It wasn’t the look of superiority and ownership with which Trusk had regarded you earlier, it was a look that spoke of belonging, of wanting to protect what was yours, of desire.  You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that felt right. You unbuttoned his trousers, pulled the zipper down with a loud noise, but your hands didn’t go straight to his cock, which by now you were sure must have been aching. Instead you let your hands roam free under his shirt, feeling his soft skin against yours, running your fingers over every ab and scar before settling one hand on his rapidly beating heart.  Cassian, whose hands had fallen to your waist, looked at you. He didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything, he just looked at you.  Reluctantly you removed your hands from his chest. You leaned up to press a quick kiss to Cassian’s lips before making quick work his the bothersome shirt, ripping it more than unbuttoning.  “Someone’s a little eager,” Cassian finally said.  You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, trying your best to look innocent, as if you hadn’t just ripped the clothes from his back.  “Just trying to get a look at what’s mine.” The words had left your lips before you could stop yourself. Only once you saw Cassian’s soft smile did you realise that you were glad you had said it. Maybe the two of you were nothing more than fuck buddies, but right here, right now, Cassian belonged to you.  You finally pushed his shirt out of the way and Cassian did the rest of the work, getting it off and throwing it somewhere, neither of you caring where the bothersome piece of clothing had landed.  You looked at Cassian, at how the soft lights in the room reflected in his eyes, on his skin, making shadows appear darker, casting him in an ethereal light.  You let out a breath you’ve been holding, the air escaping from your lungs ghosting over Cassian’s naked chest, making goose bumps rise up in the process. You fought the smirk threatening to rise to your lips. It was a unique sort of power, knowing that you could make Cassian feel like this by something as simple as breathing. It had you wondering what else you could to do him.  “Take off your clothes,” you whispered into his ear, your voice as seductive as you could make it sound.  Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. He kicked off his shoes and socks before quickly pulling down his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. Within seconds he stood before you, no clothes to hid behind, baring it all to you.  You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. one of your hands finding his cock at the same time and giving it a few strokes. Already you could feel precum at the tip. You wondered whether Cassian was this eager with everyone he slept with or if you really did hold some unique power over him.  His own hands wandered to the bottom of your top, slowly lifting it inch by inch.  “Your turn, mi duquesita.”  But you only shook your head. You had something else in mind, and a favour to repay, he wouldn’t get you naked this easy.  Gently, but firm, you took his hands in yours, removing them from your top and instead leading him over to a gigantic armchair in the corner of the room. This was where you usually curled up with a book, or sometimes with reports late at night when you couldn’t sleep.  Cassian understood without needing to be told. He sat down, his knees just far enough apart to allow you to stand between them. You settled yourself on one of his thighs, leaning forward to trail kisses all over his exposed neck, up to his jaw, where his beard tickled your lips in an almost familiar way. Cassian twisted underneath your touch as one of your hands found his dick again, swirling the leaking precum around the tip and giving it a few strokes just as your lips captured his in a heated kiss. He let out an almost needy moan as your tongues met just as you squeezed his cock, a sound that you knew you would do your best to hear again and again.  Before you knew it you had swung one of your legs over his thigh and involuntary begun to move, rubbing yourself on his leg, giving much needed relief to your aching clit.  You opened your mouth in a breathless pant as Cassian removed one of his hands from your hips, where he had put them to steady you and move you along his thigh at the same time, to sneak it through the bottom of your shorts and panties to your clit. He didn’t circle it like you had expected, instead he gave it a soft squeeze, almost painful but too pleasurable to really notice the ache.  There was nothing to be done to muffle your scream.  “That’s it, let me hear you.”  You continued to move your hands and your hips, your orgasm building quicker and quicker as Cassian caught one of your clothes nipples in his mouth, wetting the material with his tongue before biting down ever so softly, only to soothe it with this tongue once more.  In the end you weren’t sure whether it was his leg beneath your pussy, his fingers on your clit, his mouth on your breasts, or the filthy encouragements he whispered that had you unraveling. There was no holding back the moans as you finished, nor did you want to hold them in, not when you could feel Cassian’s dick twitching with every sound from your mouth, with every bit of wetness leaking through your clothes.  “That’s it, that’s my good girl.” His lips ghosted over yours, barely touching, just taking comfort in sharing this moment, sharing the same air. “I bet Trusk could never make you feel like this.”  And the moment was gone.  You sat up straight, tried your best to look as if Cassian hadn’t just rocked your world, as you looked him in the eyes. There was something of defiance in them, as well as something darker, something buried deep inside, that you couldn’t quite identify.  “Way to ruin the moment, Andor.”  Your hands slipped from his still hard dick and in the next second you got up, suddenly feeling dirty and wanting to be as far away from Cassian as possible.  You walked over to your window, wrapped your arms around yourself, as you looked over the darkness outside. A few lamps were illuminating the park beneath your window, in the distance you could see small lights, probably servants smoking. You refused to look at your reflection, instead straining your eyes to focus on anything else, even if it was something as simple as a tree.  You had been so focused on ignoring Cassian, expecting him to get dressed and leave the room, that it took you by surprise when you felt warm hands on your cold body. It was only when he wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist and one around your shoulders, and pulled you against his chest that you noticed that you had in fact started to shiver in your thin pyjama.  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”  You looked at Cassian’s reflection in the window, only to see that he was already looking at you. His grip tightened as he noticed your gaze, almost as if he was afraid you would pull away from him.  “We should get away from the window,” you finally said after moments of silence. “Someone might see. It isn’t proper.”  You felt Cassian’s chuckle against your back before you heard it. His lips attached themselves to your neck once more, peppering soft kisses along it.  “Nothing about our relationship is proper.”  You didn’t say anything. Didn’t correct that there was no relationship between the two of you. Instead you looked at him, at his soft brown hair that you had run your fingers through, the small scar above his eyebrow that was probably the result of some daring tale, his beard, that had felt so good against your skin. You knew that you had never truly hated Cassian, had only ever reflected his negative feelings towards you back at him, but now you were beginning to wonder if you reflected all feelings back. Ever since you had last seen him you had thought of your relationship, of when it all went wrong after a first meeting that had left you wanting to see the handsome rebel again. You knew that something must have happened between your first and second meeting and that whatever had changed Cassian’s opinion on you had once again shifted.  “Cassian, why don’t you want me to marry Trusk?”  It was a simple question, one that you thought you deserved to know the answer to.  Now it was Cassian who avoided looking at you. He pressed a kiss to your head before resting his forehead against your shoulder, breathing in your scent, grounding himself in the moment.  “I have given so much to the Rebellion,” he whispered into the dark. “And I was glad to give everything I had. I would give my life and do so willingly, but I won’t give you.”  You turned around in his arms, forcing him to lift his head and look at you. One of your hands cupped his cheek, just holding him.  “I am not yours to give, Cassian.”  He leaned into your touch, closed his eyes and nodded slightly.  “I know.” He was silent for a moment and you didn’t know what to say either. After what felt like an eternity he continued. “I know it doesn’t make any sense but when I first met you I thought there might be something there, something we could build on. I found myself wishing that we had met under different circumstances, in a different time. And then I got back and I found out who you were, that you carry a title that stands for everything I have spend most of my life fighting against.”  You didn’t know what to say. You had always suspected that your title was the reason behind Cassian’s changed attitude towards you but hearing it out of his mouth was something else, it twisted something inside you. Did he still feel this way?  “It felt like a future was being ripped from my hands, a future we likely wouldn’t have had to begin with. I thought that you were only helping the Rebellion to ease your conscience, tossing us a bone every once in a while to keep us hooked. And yet I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. I wanted to hate you, tried to make myself hate you.”  You nodded. You had felt the same way. At first you had hoped to find a friend in Cassian but even after a short conversation you could tell that there was a chance the two of you could become something more. And then he changed, he seemed to despise you, and you tried to mirror his behaviour, his feelings, and yet you mourned for what could have been.  “I realised that I was wrong the night of the ball, and that I had wasted so much time in trying to hate you. Time we could have spent together.”  The look in Cassian’s eyes made your insides melt. He was being honest, vulnerable, putting his heart in your hands.  “We don’t even really know each other. You don’t know my mother’s name, I don’t know your favourite colour. Who’s to say that we would even work?”  Cassian twisted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist. That simple gesture, the way he made your heartbeat quicken, told you that you would burn down the entire galaxy to find a way for your relationship to work. Cassian Andor had a way of turning off the logical part of your brain.  “But I know how you make me feel, how I make you feel. I know that you’re my home, you’re the one thing in the galaxy that means more to me than the Rebellion. I’ve been a fighter my whole life but with you I’ve found peace.”  You stepped impossibly closer to him, removing your hand from his cheek in order to wrap your arms around him as you rested your head on his chest, taking comfort in the steady beating of his heart.  “We agreed to be casual just a few hours ago, Cassian.”  You breathed in his scent, relished in feeling his skin under your hands, your cheek. You’ve heard tales of soulmates, of people bound together by what you parents used to call the Force. They had grown up in a different time, in a time where it was still easy to believe in fairytales and true love, in knights guided by a higher power. You had never hoped to find what they had, the love the two of them shared, had always known that your marriage would be a political one. There was no love under the Empire, only loss.  And yet, maybe that was what this was between you and Cassian, maybe feeling drawn to him, knowing that you could easily love him if only you let yourself, meant that you were soulmates.  “That was before I knew that I could lose you.”  You thought about his words. Yes, you could marry Trusk and be out of Cassian’s reach, but you could also be the one to lose him. He risked his life every day, the scars all over his body told of how often he had only narrowly escaped death. You had seen his name on the Empire’s kill list with your own eyes.  “I can’t promise you forever. I can’t promise not to marry Trusk if it’s what’s best for the Rebellion. But I can promise that I’ll be yours as long as the stars allow.”  You lifted your head from Cassian’s chest to look at him, only to find his eyes already focused on you. He moved a hand to the back of your neck, gently tracing his fingers through your hair.  “As long as the stars allow,” he repeated, whispering the words against your lips, against your neck, as his lips moved down.  And even if the stars, fate, the Force or whatever power controlled the galaxy were to decide that Cassian was ripped from you the very next day, at least you were allowed one perfect night together. 

-------

Ok, this was honestly a mess! Not only was it my second (and first published) time writing smut, I also had no idea where the story was supposed to go and it ended kinda weird. I might one day write a part two to make up for that, we’ll see. 

-------

Thanks to @blue-ties-and-green-eyes for helping with the Spanish! 

Taglist (I’m just gonna tag everyone who liked the Sneak Peak):  @ducktruffles  @fandom-switch @fanofverymanythings @moonlightfoxs-blog  @leonkennedyslefthand @marvelbros-oneshots @starstriker027 @queenbillie1637 @mushyluvr99 @wwesarahjaneroszko @iovesaint @luthienpallanen  @multifandom-loser @gothamincorrect  @lunarisnightmare @spectors-film @brittney22  @beautifulfreaklawyercroissant @hiddlebatchedloki @jessi55555  @noeliaxvpelluz  @skyemaria91121  @theblondeone-029  @juliette151  @chocogato777 @skyewardsherlock221b 

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x y/n #cassian andor x female reader #cassian andor smut #cassian andor fluff #cassian andor imagine #cassian andor #andor #andor series #star wars #star wars imagine

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

I love how stanikins bend over backwards to attempt to make Obi-Wan and the Jedi look callous and uncaring when all evidence points otherwise.

Obi-Wan is too harsh on him after he endangers his men and Ashoka to save a droid with confidential information on it which he didn’t wipe purposefully, oh no!!! He’s abusive!!!

Obi-Wan putting the good of the Galaxy above the ones he love because it’s his duty and philosophy to put the good of the collective above the good of the few he loves. Oh no!!!! He’s heartless!!! He should’ve let Anakin jump off the moving vehicle to save padme because muh love story!!!! He should’ve known that Anakin’s dreams about his mother dying was a vision and not a dream!!! Definitely not like Anakin told him it was a vision, “just a dream” verbatim from Anakin himself!!! Like if we take legends into consideration then Obi-Wan, someone who is strong in the Unifying force, would definitely have done shit if Anakin told him outright it was a vision but how was he supposed to know when Anakin himself 1) never had a vision before this and 2) never told his master what occurred in said vision?

Obi-Wan would’ve made Anakin fess up to the Tusken massacre if Anakin told him!!! He should’ve been a safe space for Anakin and been accepting like Padme and covered this horrendous miscarriage of justice out of love!!! He didn’t provide a safe space for a mass murderer therefore he deserves blame for it!!!!

The council didn’t want to admit a very clearly traumatized slave child who’s recently been freed because he would not be able to fully commit to their philosophy of non-attachment due to his experience and asking him to change how he viewed the world so shortly after being separated from his one support in life would be cruel so they denied him, therefore he was right to hate them!!! Especially Mace Windu because, checks notes, he was mean (???) to him (???) in the first act of the phantom menace???? Like have y’all not watched TCW and how Mace interacted with him????

Stanikins literally have every excuse under the sun to justify his every atrocity without giving him any agency in his own choice. His story is a tragedy!!! Let it be a tragedy!!! He was a slave boy with godly powers and traumatized beyond imagination! He could’ve been great if the circumstances were different, if one thing changed he would’ve been the greatest Jedi there were, but because he is literally doomed by the narrative, we cannot see him be the person he could be. He has great capacity for kindness of selflessness but because of his experience fear wins out and he desperately holds onto all the affection and love he could because his time as a slave taught him to do so. It’s a disservice to take away his agency, to make all his bad and disastrous decisions the fault of someone else, is to make him one dimensional. Let him be the villain he is and mourn the child he was and the person he could’ve been if he wasn’t doomed by the narrative before the prequels even came out. Let him be tragic. Let his decisions be tragic and doomed and unavoidable. Let him be sucked into villainy the moment he decided that his revenge is worth more than the lives of those that did not participate in the murder and torture of his mother. Let him be utterly unredeemable because of his actions. Let him doomed by his own actions as well as the narrative. Let him be himself instead of woobifying him into a victim of everyone else’s actions but his own.

He choose to massacre the Tuskens. He choose to massacre the Jedi. He choose to hunt any remaining Jedi left in the Galaxy for 20 years. He choose to put the life of his wife above the people who raised him and took him into their culture. He choose to do that himself. And it is tragic. It is sad. But it is no one’s fault but his own. His formative years shaped him into one who jealously hordes all forms of affection form those he loved most as a trauma response. He understands Jedi teachings (literally a whole arc in TCW where he teaches Ashoka what it means to be a Padawan and Jedi) he just doesn’t internalize it because of his trauma. He takes no one’s council but his own (showcased when he went to Yoda to ask for a method of cheating death and Yoda’s advice was sound if he were talking to any other Jedi other than Anakin).

Star Wars may be a a story of hope but it is also a tragedy. It’s about a boy how could’ve been great, it’s about a boy who was so full of hope and dooming himself because he’s too afraid and refuses to let the fear go so it turns into anger and hate. Taking away Anakins agency and blaming his actions on other people takes away the tragedy that is having someone great fall. A boy who was bad cannot fall and be doomed. It’s only those that have the potential to be great that falls the hardest and by taking away his own culpability in bringing in a genocidal empire (one he wished to rule no less) takes away the inherent tragedy of seeing someone so bright fall so low.

#anti anakin skywalker #Anakin skywalker critical #Star Wars #Star Wars is a tragedy #the only way for Anakin to fall from grace is if he had the capability to be kind and compassionate #and that’s what makes it a tragedy #jedi positive #pro jedi

[illfoandillfie]

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Pairing: Rich Fuckboy!Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summery:  An unexpected call from Ben results in an unexpected evening.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Rich kid dickishness, dom/sub dynamics, mostly dom ben and sub reader, but also a little round the other way, a fair bit of derogatory/degrading language (esp whore), edging, cockwarming, a little spanking, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, piv sex, begging, bondage, forced orgasm. I think thats all.

Words: 12,890

A/N: Wasn't necessarily planning to write more of rich bitch Benny but then I saw some promo pics for his movie Love At First Sight and something in my brain booted up. This was written over a stupidly long time, literally months, so hopefully its okay lmao. Also please excuse any weird formatting. The way tumblr works, paragraphs can't be more than 4096 characters so some of the dialogue had to be broken up to make it postable.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

“You get two questions.”  “Five,” Bianca countered.  “Two. I want to have a shower.”  “Fine.” She agreed, disgruntled. Bianca had ambushed you the second you got home, having stayed up waiting on the couch to hear all about your date with Ben. She’d listened patiently, laughing or nodding and squealing a little, as you told her about the restaurant he’d chosen and the club and ending up on the yacht. But when you’d admitted you had slept with him, she got so excited you were a little worried she’d forget to breathe. Bianca thought for a moment, choosing which of her questions were most worth asking, “Okay, one, was he good? Like did you get off?”  “Yeah, he was very good,” you smiled to yourself thinking about just how good he’d been, following all your orders.  Bianca seemed a little relieved that the exceptional lover she’d fantasised about so many times could live up to the image. “Was he into any weird kinks?”  You thought for a moment, contemplating how little you could get away with saying, “Nothing super unusual. But y’know that’s stuff you don’t necessarily bring out the first time.”  “Nothing kinky? Not even like some bondage or spitting or anything?”  “You asked me about weird! Yeah there was a little bondage. Spanking too.” 

"I knew it!” she said before the loudest squeal yet and you hurried to shush her before a neighbour complained.  “He was hung right? Please god tell me he was hung.”  “Thats more than two questions.”  “Fuck, c’mon Y/N. Just describe his dick for me. I've been trying to picture it for years, it’d be mean of you not to tell me.”  You laughed, enjoying teasing her but you felt a little bad for sleeping with her celebrity crush so held up your hands to demonstrate an approximate length, “Comparisons could be drawn to horses.”  Her eyes lit up like it was Christmas, “I knew it.”  “He wasn’t super thick but he was decently long. Nothing crazy but more than enough. Very slight curve.”  She’d closed her eyes and hummed as you described him, “It’s beautiful,” she said dreamily.  Laughing, you bid her goodnight, looking forward to showering and then heading to bed, but once more she stopped you.   “Wait, are you going to sell the story?”  “Oh, I can’t. He made me sign an NDA. I’ve probably said too much already so don’t go repeating it okay.”  “So that’s why no one ever spills too many details.”  “Yeah, must be.” You felt a little bad for lying but you really wanted to shower, and you knew she’d ask more questions if you admitted you didn’t want to tell anyone now. If the night had gone more to Ben’s plan, if you’d let him be in control, you wouldn’t have had any qualms about writing to a magazine with the big scoop. But he’d obviously cultivated a particular image in the public conscious, one that didn’t necessarily align with ideas of him as a willing, even eager, submissive. The thought of selling that story made you feel dirty in a way the other versions just wouldn’t. So, at the end of the night you’d promised to keep it a secret, even if that meant remaining poor. You’d gotten to domme The Benjamin Hardy after all, what more did you need.

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you.   “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?”  You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.”  “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?”  “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.”  “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.”  “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit.  “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.”  “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much.   “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.”   You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.”  He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?”  “Not yet.”  “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?”  You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver.  “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.”  You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.”  “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.”  “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants.  “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.”  Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you.   “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?”  You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.”  “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?”  “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.”  “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.”  “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit.  “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.”  “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much.   “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.”   You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.”  He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?”  “Not yet.”  “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?”  You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver.  “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.”  You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.”  “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.”  “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants.  “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.”  Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

“Who’s house is this?” Ben asked as he offered you a hand out of the limo, the bag of food in his other. You leant back in to grab the bottle of champagne and the glasses, able to feel Ben ogling the hem of your dress as it rose up the back of your legs, “It’s not the house we’re here for, c’mon.” You led him around the corner and up a little alley that ran behind the houses. Ben scrunched up his nose a little, “Bit…dingy isn’t it. Not really the sort of place I want to eat. Quickie during a party is a different story though.” You ignored him, leading him further down the path until it opened out into a little garden which was surrounded by trees, making it feel removed from the outside world. Ben’s dissatisfaction with the alley turned into a bemused approval, “Well this is quite nice. You set it up yourself?” “No, the lights got put up for a Christmas party a few years back and they just left them up.” Ben looked around at the twinkling white solar lights draped throughout the tree branches, “Well it’s not what I was expecting but it’s nice. Cute. Little bit romantic even with the moonlight and all. Well done.” You laughed a little and took the bag from him as you sat down in the middle of a circle of stone pavers, pulling out the few dishes you’d ordered as well as some paper plates and bamboo cutlery. Ben watched you for a while until you told him to sit down. He warily crouched down, brushing leaf litter from a patch before he sat proper. When he caught your raised eyebrow he shrugged, “This suit is worth more than you make in a year. Not even the best cunt in the world could make me ruin it.” “You think I have the best cunt in the world? I’m flattered,” you continued dishing up the food, handing a plate to Ben. “That’s not what I meant. We’ll see after tonight though. If you behave and take me the way I want, you might be in the running.” You did your best to hide a smile, trying not to give away how amusing his comment was. That is, until he took it too far and your smile turned into an eye roll. “Although, to really be sure I’d have to have all the contenders lined up for me to test out one after another. Hmmm, now that’s a thought." You cleared your throat, hoping a gentle reminder would be enough but Ben remained lost in pornographically unrealistic fantasies, the outline of his cock much more visible than it had been a moment before. “Fork Ben?” you asked, tempted to poke him with the implement.” “You’ve gotten eager but alright.” This time you did poke him, just quickly in the shoulder, emphasising correct articulation as you repeated, “Fork.” “Ow, alright.” He took the cutlery from you, “you’re the one who was talking about cunts though. Can’t blame me for mishearing.” Before you could do more than huff in response Ben quickly said, “So, you gonna explain this place to me? Because I can tell you, if we’re caught trespassing here, we’ll definitely end up in the papers and that sort of publicity is much less fun than being seen at a nice restaurant.”

You shook your head as you settled back with your own plate, “No, we have permission to be here. Hows the food by the way?” “Incredible. Can’t believe I haven’t heard of them before.” “Well they don’t have any Michelin stars so maybe that’s why. And don’t you start telling your rich friends about it. I don’t want you ruining my favourite Thai place.” Ben laughed, “So when you say we have permission to be here what do you mean?” “Well, I grew up in this area actually. One street over, but I used to come to this spot a lot. It was designed to be a little community garden, there’s still some planters over along the fence, but mostly it gets used for street parties and things, so usually it was empty. I used to come here when I wanted to be alone. It seemed so secret and secluded and, I don’t know, kind of magical I guess. I mean, now I know it wasn’t quite as secret as I thought. The house that we’re behind can see directly between those two trees,” you pointed at them, “and the old couple who used to live there were friends with my parents, so they’d keep an eye on me. And then when I was a bit older I did some baby sitting for their daughter who eventually moved back into the house to look after her parents and who still lives there now since she inherited it.” “So she can see us? Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism.” “She’s overseas at the moment. But our families have kept in contact and when I said I had a date I wanted to bring here she said it’d be fine.” “Condemning silence about exhibitionism which I’ve definitely filed away. But this place is nice. A little dirty perhaps, but nice.” He had another mouthful and then said, “So, why exactly did you bring me here?” “Isn’t that obvious?” He hummed thoughtfully, “Because you’re a dirty girl who likes doing it outside? Because you didn’t want me to have home ground advantage? Because you don’t like the idea of other women having me and this way you get me all to yourself? Am I getting close?” “I wanted to see you away from the cameras and the fawning models and the arseholes you call friends. I wanted a nice, normal sort of a night where we weren’t going to end up on the front page of every gossip website. And I wanted to see if you were a prick even without an audience.” “Please, you like it” he scoffed teasingly, “And I don’t understand what you’ve got against having your photo taken. I told you last time that being seen is half the fun. I mean, don’t me wrong, this is nice too. Just a bit boring in comparison.” “Mmm, well I’m sure there’ll be plenty of articles speculating on where you were tonight since no one’s got a picture.” Ben perked up a little at the idea, “That’s a good point. Maybe a quiet night every so often isn’t a bad idea.”

For the next little while, as you finished your dinner, Ben oscillated between total sweetheart and utter dickhead, as though he were playing Double Dutch with the line between. You’d hoped that getting him on his own would discourage some of the behaviours he’d displayed last time you’d been with him. If he wasn’t around his idiot friends, he’d have no one to objectify women with. If you weren’t at a restaurant, none of his previous or prospective conquests could remind him of wild nights that he’d then tell you all about. If he couldn’t throw money around in order to buy your company for the night, he’d have to offer stimulating conversation and a genuine reason for your interest instead. But apparently it was not as cause and effect as you’d assumed and Ben still managed to do all the things you’d hoped to avoid. And if anything, being alone with him with no other women to distract made him even more intent on getting you out of your clothes. He suggested first that dinner would taste better eaten off your tits. And then when you tried to come up with a new topic of conversation, he decided to reminisce about a time he’d seduced a TV personality on the set of a cooking show after they’d both been judging it. And every time you took a sip of champagne he’d watch as if telepathically trying to get you drunk. The annoying thing was that in between he was absolutely delightful. You knew there was a decent man buried beneath the layers of wankery his affluent lifestyle had imbued him with. But it was only after he smiled charmingly, leaned in close, and suggested you give him a quick handy if you weren’t going to lift your skirt, that you grew fed up enough to voice the opinion you’d formed about his style of flirting. “Y’know, I thought you’d be better at it.” “Better at what?” he asked suspiciously, “I can assure you I’m incredible at it, you just need a proper demonstration.” “No not that. Flirting. I mean, that is what you’re trying to do isn’t it?” “Obviously,” he said, taken aback. “I guess you’ve never had to really try have you? You were blessed with looks and money. Probably never been turned down in your life, even when you should have been.” “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you actually are as dumb as the rest of them. And here I was thinking fucking your brains out would be an actual accomplishment.” “No, I just….it’s not good flirting. You realise that right?” “What do you mean not good flirting? It works every time.” “No, I think it’s the money that works every time. Being rich means you can get away with a lot of other bullshit.” When he seemed likely to try and contradict you, you spoke over the top of him, “Listen, I know I can’t speak for every woman you hit on but I can tell you that if an average looking guy with an average amount of money tried to flirt the way you do, he would be shot down. Very, very quickly. For the most part women don’t want to be degraded by random guys they go out with. And they don’t want to hear about all your other conquests when you’re hitting on them.” “Well what would you know,” he said, crossing his arms in sullen defensiveness.

You turned up the condescension, “Aww baby, I get it. You’ve never had to learn how to keep a girl interested without buying her attention." Ben was still pouting but his expression had changed, less cocksure. “It’s okay baby, I’ll keep you in line.” Ben gave half a nod but then paused, “Hey, wait. Stop making me feel subby, I’m meant to be domming tonight.” You laughed at how he sounded almost like he was going to throw a tantrum, “but it’s so easy and fun.” “Well turning you into a fucked out cockslut will be fun too.” There was a short pause and then Ben, much more seriously said, “But you really think my flirting is bad?” “I hate to break it to you but, kinda yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. You just need some work. Sometimes you take things a bit far with the teasy banter.” “Like when?” “Hmmm well, just before when you were bragging about how expensive your suit is – which is pretty unsexy by the way – and then I countered with a joke about having the best cunt in the world. Personally I didn’t mind your come back about making me behave or whatever. It was a little crass maybe but not too much more than what I’d said, and since we both know I’m letting you take charge tonight it was a bit hot. But then you took it too far by inventing a scenario in which you would have the chance to compare me to other women. We went from hot to ick in a matter of seconds.” “I’m pretty sure I was implying that you would win.” “Didn’t really sound like it and absolutely not the point. How can I put it? When you talk to me like I’m a normal human being not something put in front of you for your sexual gratification, when we have a proper conversation with a little bit of banter, that’s fun and enjoyable and makes me want to sleep with you. But then you’ll tell me about some other woman you had sex with or you’ll make a derogatory comment about my friend, whom you’ve not even properly met, or you’ll act like you expect me to get my tits out as, I don’t know, decoration while you eat. Basically anything to imply that the only reason you’re even here with me is to have sex.” “But that was the agreement.” “I know. And I am totally fine with having a night out with the expectation it’ll end in sex. But it would be nice, and it would make me want to fuck you more, if you acted like getting laid wasn’t the only thing you care about. Especially because sometimes it’s like you don’t even care who you have sex with as long as you get off, like you have no interest in if I enjoy it, you just want to use me cause I'm there.” “And that’s bad?” “As a flirting technique yes.” “But it’s a complement? And I’ve been with loads of women who say being used is hot.” “Well it’s not the nicest complement ever. And I’m not saying it isn’t hot in some situations. But not everyone likes it and even women who do enjoy it don’t necessarily want it all the time or with someone they’ve never slept with before.” “Lighten up, it’s a bit of fun and I always get them off." “Yeah but you imply that you don’t care if they cum or not which makes you seem like a bit of an asshole. Plus sometimes it can come off a little rapey. Less like a ‘I don’t care if you cum’ and more of a ‘I don’t care if you actually want it’ type thing. I don’t think I need to tell you why that’s unattractive.” “I- no- how,” Ben spluttered before he finally managed, “I would never!” “I’m not saying you have and I’m not saying you would. But sometimes you can come off a bit like that, even if it’s well intentioned. Last time we went out you pinned me down in the back of your car, your hand on my throat, and told me I was going to do everything you wanted. You were practically a stranger, I didn’t know where we were, I had no quick way of leaving partly because we were in your car and partly because of the stupidly high shoes I was wearing. It was kind of threatening. I mean I know that wasn’t your intention but…” you trailed off letting Ben absorb what you’d said.

“I really didn’t realise that’s how I sounded, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I was never scared or anything, I didn’t think you would rape me. And I don’t say this to accuse you of something or to be mean. I’m just sick of some of the things you’ve been saying, and I think you deserve to know that what you think is cheeky flirting can come across differently to the women you’re flirting with. "Um, well, thanks I guess. ‘Spose it is better for me to know. Don’t want to get cancelled or whatever, father would kill me. So, do you want me to take you home now?” “What? No, not at all.” “I don’t want you to think you have to sleep with me. If you want to end tonight early, I’m okay with that.” “Oh, baby, no, that’s not what I want. I came here knowing I’d end up in your bed and I think we can still have fun. Besides, I’m still eating.” “Are you sure? Wouldn’t think you’d still be up for it after everything you said.” “To tell the truth I'd really love to dom you now. Punish you for some of the gross bullshit you’ve said, put you in your place again. But we made a deal and I’m very happy to hold to it.” “Really? I think you killed my boner.” You giggled, “Well if you don’t want to, we can just finish dinner and you can drop me home. But I think I can get you back up.” Ben eyed you suspiciously, “How?” “I train you to behave better.” He shifted surreptitiously but didn’t say anything. “We stay here, finish dinner, finish his bottle of champagne, talk for a bit. But every time you say something I would consider bad flirting technique, I will do something to remind you to be better. Pull your hair, maybe edge you, whatever will get the message across.” “I guess that could be fun.” Ben said, trying to sound as if he didn’t mind and failing, “Not really the deal we made though.” You laughed, “Are you telling me that wouldn’t make you want revenge? Being edged and teased when you were meant to be in charge. Wouldn’t that rile you up. Make you want to turn the tables, show me who’s boss. I mean, all your cocky dom behaviour is what got me wanting to tie you up last time, but maybe it doesn’t work like that for you.” “Oh! I hadn’t thought of it like that.” “Because you like when I tell you what to do.” “No. Well maybe a bit. But mostly because I feel bad and thought I should just do what you want so you’d know I wouldn’t, like, hurt you or whatever. I mean, I would have expected another night for you to make it up to me but…” “It is tempting but I’ll admit I might have some ulterior motives for letting you dom me,” you leaned closer to Ben as if you were about to reveal a big secret, “You can learn a lot about how to control a guy by letting him control you. So I’m happy to let you do virtually anything you want to me. With a few exceptions.” “What sort of exceptions?” “I don’t mind anal play,” you dropped into a more serious tone rather than the sultry one you’d slipped into, “but I haven’t done any prep for it so none of it tonight please. Also, I would prefer any marks left are in easy to hide places. Concealer can be bloody expensive and I don’t want to waste any on whatever hickeys and bruises you want to leave. And I’m not super into choking. I don’t mind a hand on my neck but no squeezing if possible.” Ben hummed, “But everything else is on the cards? Mouth and cunt? Spanking? Hair pulling? Tying you up?” “Mmhmm. Whatever you want. As soon as we’re back in that car of yours. Of course, if you’re feeling all subby then that could be what you want.” A low rumble emanated from Ben’s throat as if he were growling and it made you intrigued and a little wet. But you did your best to play it cool, “See, looks like we’re fixing your boner already.”

Fortunately for you, it seemed to take Ben a little while to grasp just what you considered inappropriate flirting. At first you kept your reminders small, giving him firm taps and small pinches, maybe cutting him off to tell him to try again. But, when the lessons didn’t seem to be sticking, you ramped it up a little. By the time you were finished with the food and had moved on to finishing the champagne, he once again tried to describe a night he’d spent with another women, going into unnecessary detail about her figure in less than polite terms. You let him talk as you undid his zip and reached into his pants. Ben hummed as your fingers stroked along his already semi hard length, easily pulled free since he’d not worn underwear either, “Your gonna try and outdo her now are you?” he asked, seemingly having forgotten your threats, “Hope you know how to suck properly cause she was an expert.” You didn’t respond, just kept focused on the handjob as Ben went back to describing what the young woman had done to him. His voice became strained as he got more excited, his cock well and truly hard within your grasp, beads of precum at his tip. “Why’d you stop?” he groaned when you removed your hand before he could finish. “I told you I’d edge you.” “I thought you were bluffing,” he admitted, his face flushed. “Oh I never joke about edging baby. Especially when I’m using it to correct bad behaviour.” “What’s to stop me just finishing myself off?” “Well then you obviously wouldn’t need me at all tonight.” Ben’s hand hovered over his cock for a moment before he moved it aside. “Good boy. Now tell me more about that art show you mentioned. Did you say there was an auction?”

“Um, yeah.” He blinked like he was trying to get his brain to switch thought, “Father thinks I should be seen at fundraisers and charity events more than at clubs and restaurants so I mostly went to keep him off my back. It was mostly pretty boring but I ended up winning this stunning painting, only good piece of the night. Very detailed nude. The tits on her, phwoar. I even met the model who posed for it. Wanted to com-” Ben cut himself off as you began wanking him again. “Sorry.” “Thank you for apologising baby,” you sped your hand up, figuring since he’d caught himself before he said anything really bad you wouldn’t draw this one out. “You can stop, I didn’t say anything.” “Aww baby, I still have to edge you. Otherwise you’ll never learn.” Ben swore when you did release him, his breath heavy as he said, “That wasn’t fair. I wasn’t even going to say anything bad. Besides your tits are better. Not as big but I’ve touched both and yours are better. No, no, please.” “You can come up with a better complement than that.” You sighed, as if edging him was a chore you didn’t enjoy. “Fucking bitch. I know this is just cause I’ve got the best cock you’ve ever had and you wanted an excuse to touch it.” “Amazingly, that’s worse. And it’ll cost you another three edges. One for calling me a bitch. One for being so far up your own ass you think I couldn’t possibly have had better. And one because I know you’re enjoying this and that’s why you keep saying the douchiest shit.” You pulled your hand away, “Thats one.” Ben whined when you started on the next, the break between only short. “Don’t cum,” you reminded him, “it will not stop me, I’ll just overstimulate you instead. Maybe then you’ll really learn your lesson.” “Please, please, close,” Ben managed to whimper, and you pulled your hand away again to reward him. Ben whined and pounded his fist against the ground once, but he managed to keep whatever thoughts he was having to himself. He was clearly learning. “Just one more, okay baby?” Ben nodded, leaning back on his elbows. His cockhead was dark and precum dripped down his shaft. He wouldn’t last if you began another edge too soon so you decided to toy with him in other ways while you waited. Pushing yourself to your knees, you gathered the hem of your dress in your fists and slowly began to raise it. “Wasn’t sure I believed you,” Ben said, not quite managing to sound as cocky as he had before the edges but making a valiant attempt “Good to know you can follow instructions.” He reached a hand out as if to touch your naked pussy but you tutted and grabbed his wrist. “Not yet, baby.” you shuffled closer, keeping the front of your dress lifted as you placed a knee on either side of his legs. “Now edge yourself for me.” Ben groaned with longing as he looked at your cunt, but then he switched to glaring at you as he did as you’d said, slowly working his hand along his shaft, aided by precum and a little of his own spit. You’d been fully prepared to rub yourself along his cock or even against his thigh if he’d made a fuss, but he hadn’t even tried to argue. He was clearly planning your demise, if his expression was anything to go by, but you had expected that and only minded in so much as you were missing out on the subby little face he made when you’d had him last and he’d given in completely. But you let him go, occasionally instructing him, but mostly just watching his reactions, seeing if you could pick when he was close. It didn’t take long for him to get there, whining as he pulled his hand back. “Good boy,” you let your dress drop again, leaning forward to carefully tuck his leaking cock back into his pants, hoping that just your touch wouldn’t set him off.

Settling back onto the rug you continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, sipping at your champagne. Ben drank his a little faster, still staring daggers at you from over the rim of his glass, even when responding to you. But he seemed to have learnt his lesson. Once or twice he started to say something but cut himself off and changed tact, and you ended up having a genuinely pleasant chat. He was still flirty, still explicit about how much he wanted to fuck you, just less obnoxious about it. You didn’t have to hear about any more of his previous sexual escapades at any rate, and he was attentive enough to make you feel like sex was only most of what he cared about. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery and see what he had in store for you.  “Bottles empty."  “I’ve got more back at the hotel” Ben said, catching on instantly – the bottle had been empty for a little while.   “Perfect,” you smiled and let him help you to your feet, collecting the rubbish in the bag from the Thai place and dropping it into a bin out on the street as he hurried you back to the car. The driver stubbed out a cigarette on the road when he saw you approaching and was holding the door open by the time you reached him. 

You were barely inside when Ben put his hand on your knees, pushing your legs open. “Already?” you asked, breath hitching as he exposed you. “Are you kidding? After what you did tonight, you think I’d wait?” he leaned in closer, one hand sliding up your thigh as the other remained firm on your knee so you couldn’t close your legs again, “After last time you really think I wouldn’t be itching to get my hands on you? You got something no one else has had and I’m so fucking annoyed that I liked it. I went home so pissed off after we docked because I know that you could have me on my knees, at your beck and call, in an instant. And I can’t have you out there bragging about it, telling anyone else, or I’m ruined. Especially because I also love domming sluts. Now, we did your quiet little dinner thing, I listened to you criticise me and imply I don’t satisfy my women. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, I let you have some fun at my expense. You were obviously so desperate to get my cock out that you had to make up an excuse to touch me,” his fingers stroked against your cunt and he smirked as if your wetness was proving him right, “but that’s okay. I like my whores desperate.” You wanted to interrupt him, to tell him that he was wrong, or better yet to steal control from him again, but as soon as you opened your mouth his palm was covering it. “Shhh no, it’s my turn to talk. I think it’s time for you to have a lesson, a hard lesson, in what it means to be my whore. That was our deal anyway. So you’re going to be quiet and do what I want. Nod if you consent.” You decided you must have got through to him at least a little bit since he was now trying to make consent clear, it was a far cry from when he’d last had you pinned down in his limo anyway, and you had agreed to it beforehand. So you nodded. “You’re going to be an eager and willing slut for me aren’t you?” You nodded but it wasn’t enough for Ben who moved his hand away and ordered “repeat what you are.” “You’re eager and willing slut. Sir.” “That’s what I like to hear. And you will enjoy everything I do to you. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise. Now show me your cunt again.” He sat back and you readjusted yourself in the seat, hitching your dress up as you spread your legs wider. Ben hummed in appreciation, “Touch yourself for me.” You swallowed thickly and did as he asked, stroking your fingers over your lips, already a little wet from teasing him. But Ben expected more, “Do it properly. You know how big I am, get yourself ready so I can fit.”

It made you want to roll your eyes but you resisted the urge, ready to play along like you’d promised. Instead, you kept eye contact with him as you stuck your fingers in your mouth, slicking them up with saliva before moving them back down to your cunt. On another day you might have been able to use the position to your advantage, make him so eager for you with your display that you could take charge before he realised what was happening. You were certain that if you’d made Ben watch you fingering yourself last time he would have turned submissive before you even made it onto the yacht. But he seemed determined to give you a taste of your own medicine today. He made a pleased sound and just watched. There was definitely a tension to him – something in the way he sat back from you and how his hand rested on the edge of the seat as if he were about to dig his fingers into the soft leather to keep from giving in – but he kept up the appearance of nonchalance. Which made you less sure of your assessment, and more worried about what he had in store for you. By the time you were adding a third finger, you felt very flustered and warm. Ben hadn’t looked away once. He’d relaxed more, content with watching despite how he was straining against the fabric of his pants. He’d made a couple of comments to either instruct you more specifically, or to gloat about how following orders suited you. “You like to play at taking charge, but we both know you want a man like me to control you.” You shook your head but your defiance was undercut by a whine. Ben just laughed, “you’re cunt agrees with me. I can see how wet you are. I can hear it. Don’t think you’re wet enough to handle my cock yet though. Guess I should give you a hand.” He’d been slowly rolling up his sleeve as he spoke but once it was up he quickly moved to take over. His body boxed you in against the seat and he pulled your fingers free, replacing them with his own. You half expected him to reach for your throat like last time but he didn’t. He did however shove three large fingers into your cunt, making you whine a little at the extra stretch of them. “Knew you needed help,” he smirked as he began fingering you relentlessly, his movements shallow and fast but reaching deeper. After a few rapid strokes he added in a little curl of his fingers against your front wall and you moaned suddenly. The look Ben gave you was his most insufferable yet, entirely too pleased with himself, but there wasn’t much you could do since he was making you feel so good.

Entirely too quickly he stopped and you looked around confused, wondering if you’d arrived already.  Ben didn’t answer, more concerned with getting his pants undone and pushing them down.   You were about to suggest that maybe he was the desperate one when he sat down and beckoned you over.   “You wanted it so bad, whore, here you go.” When you didn’t move straight away he clicked his fingers, “I know it's a monster but your cunt can take it. C’mon.”  You moved closer and Ben grabbed your hips, manhandling you onto his lap, groaning as you sank down he shaft.  Your back was to Ben, so you braced your hands on his knees, assuming you were meant to ride him. But he stopped you, wrapping an arm around you to keep you still, “no don’t move. You can warm me for a bit while I explain the trouble you’re in.”  You squirmed, not out of a strong desire to exhaust yourself riding him, more to show he wouldn’t have it too easy, even if you had agreed to submit. Ben’s grip remained tight but his other hand did slip down to your pussy, his fingers finding your clit with surprising ease and rubbing it lightly. Not firm enough to get you very far but enough to make you want more.   “You’re going to get a taste of your own medicine. I’m going to make you wait, and I’m going to make you beg, and I’m going to have you as much as I can tonight. And maybe again in the morning if you’re lucky.”  “How do you know I’ll beg?”  “Well if you don’t that’ll be your problem. Because you won’t be cumming until you do. But, see, I’ll get off as much as I want. Your little edging game means that even just being in you has me close already. It gave me some ideas too.” That was when he started rubbing your clit properly, his fingertips pressing against it, pulling you closer to the edge.   You knew it wouldn’t last, that he’d stop before you got anywhere near orgasm, but that didn’t change how disappointing it was when he did. Especially because you involuntarily clenched around his cock at the sudden lack of stimulation, and heard Ben groan in your ear.  “God you feel good when I deny you,” he said as he started again.   You quickly lost track of how many edges you had and how long you’d been in the car.   Ben hadn’t had the satisfaction of hearing you beg, but he’d made you whine and whimper. And he’d had more actual satisfaction than you, managing an orgasm just from the wet warmth of you tightening around him a few times. He’d gone rigid for a moment as he reached his release but then he’d recovered himself and gone right back to edging you. You’d tried to clench around him more intentionally, hoping to overstimulate him a little, but if he felt much he didn’t let on. Which meant that by the time he pushed you from his lap you could feel a combination of his cum and your slick on your thighs and dripping from your cunt.   The car pulled up as Ben said, “Clean yourself up,” tossing you a few tissues from a pocket inside his suit jacket, “Can’t have you dripping through the foyer.”  That felt more humiliating than anything else he’d done or said, especially because of how horny and wet you were, but Ben didn’t seem to notice as he tucked himself away again and smoothed out his suit.   Once you’d straightened yourself up as much as you could in the confines of the limo, Ben helped you out, once again acting the gentleman as he offered you his arm.

You tried to act as normal as possible as you walked through the foyer of what was obviously a five star hotel, an ambitious goal considering what had happened on the drive there and how fancy the place seemed.  "Do you live here?” you asked, hoping that having a conversation to focus on would help with the image you were attempting to cultivate.   Ben shook his head as you approached the lifts, “No, I have a house. Father bought it for me when I turned 18. He thought it would do me good to live on my own or something. But I never take the women I fuck there.”  You blinked, surprised, “why not?”  “If I was dating them it would be different, and in fact one of my exes did move in there with me for a while. But one night stands don’t get to see where I live. I permanently keep the penthouse suite here for getting my dick wet. That’s how you know you’re one of my whores.” He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you into a demanding kiss, his hands roaming over your arse until the elevator dinged at his floor.  

It was a short walk to his door and Ben already had the keycard out by the time you reached it, clearly eager for more. He took just enough time to place a do not disturb hanger on the door handle before he pushed you to your knees right there in the entry way. When you looked up he was working on unbuckling his pants again, his cock already hard as he pulled it out, his quick refractory time a result of the edges, or so you assumed.   “I’m sure you’ve got some little plan to get on top going on in your head right now, Y/N,” he said as he worked on his pants, “But I assure you it won’t be happening tonight, so I think a little test is in order. You need to prove you can submit before you go any further.”  You nodded meekly, already horny and resigned to your fate.   “Well go on, suck.”  You shuffled forward, feeling Ben’s large fingers twisting softly in your hair to guide you. Bracing yourself for his fist to tighten or for him to force you down his shaft, you pressed your lips to his tip. But he defied your expectations, his hands leaving you altogether once he had you in place. It was strange but you didn’t complain, focusing instead on his cock.  Ben sighed in pleasure as you brought a spit wet palm up to stroke his shaft, your mouth busy becoming acquainted with his tip, but otherwise he made little acknowledgement of your actions. Instead he preoccupied himself getting undressed.   You felt more than saw him shimmy out of his jacket, flinging it unceremoniously to the floor behind him. Next came the sound of his wristwatch being placed, much more carefully, on the hall stand beside you. A moment later his cufflinks joined it. When he took off his dress shirt you had to pause your bobbing, letting him fall from your lips as you pulled back to watch. He did have a very nice chest, you remembered that from last time, and you were sure he’d take your looking as a complement.   Ben flashed you a pleased look as he noticed you, allowing you to watch as he slipped the shirt from his arms and dropped it to the floor, but once it was off he considered the show over. His fist was once again in your hair, this time much more forcefully tugging you back towards his cock.   “I didn’t tell you to stop.” he drawled as you got your lips around his tip and felt his palm pushing you further down his length.   You managed okay to start but without being able to control your pace as much you couldn’t keep from gagging as you took Ben deeper.   Ben hummed, clearly satisfied with the sound, his hand loosening a little as a reward.   You took the hint and found a rhythm that pleased him, working yourself up and down his shaft, your hand stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. You gagged a few more times as you pushed yourself further, but Ben definitely enjoyed it when you did.  All of a sudden he stopped you, both hands in your hair to keep you from moving.   “I think you’re ready now, hands off.”  You had no idea what he thought you were ready for but you did as he said, partly because you wanted to prove him wrong about your ability to follow orders, but mostly because you were very turned on and wanted to hurry up and get to the bit where he’d fuck you for real. The thought was distracting enough that you were caught off guard as he pressed his hips forward, pushing more of his cock than you were ready for towards your throat. You gagged again and Ben groaned. 

“Good girl, just take it.” He said grunted as he thrust into your mouth again, and then again, not worrying about going slow.  Your hair was tangled tight in his fingers, keeping you from moving too far from where he wanted you. Instinct made you try to lean back a little but aside from Ben’s grip, you were too close to the door to get very far. You heard Ben’s knuckles bump against it, the solid wood an intimidating barrier behind you that made it clear you had little choice but to do as Ben wanted. You assumed that if you’d tapped out, Ben would have let you, but you didn’t want to. Ben had been right when he’d said it was hot to be used. You were already very wet but your pussy ached as he fucked your mouth, denying you what you really wanted so he could take what would satisfy him. Each shift of his hips made indecent wet sounds as saliva built up and dripped onto your chin and he pulled more gags from your throat. Tears pooled in your eyes but Ben didn’t seem to care. He kept up fucking you for longer than you might have expected if you’d been able to think clearly enough to guess. Especially with how turned on he must have been, just based on the groans and moans he made as he used you. But finally Ben seemed to reach a limit of just how much pleasure he could withstand. His hips sped up, and he grunted each word on a new thrust as he said, “Gonna fucking cum. You better fucking swallow.”  You blinked more tears from your eyes which Ben took as compliance with his wants as he got himself off, rutting against your tongue until he stopped, keeping you pinned between his hips and the door as he filled your mouth with cum. Ben pulled out quickly which you were thankful for. You’d been able to steal breaths throughout the blowjob but had unwittingly held your breath as he finished, and were eager to be free. He took half a step back, hands rising to his hips as he stared you down, daring you to recoil at the taste of his cum or worse still to spit it out. Between heavy breaths through your nose your swallowed, fighting the urge to wipe your eyes or face.  “Good girl,” Ben cooed as if he’d expected a brattier display, “I knew that fem dom shit was just a cry for attention. This was what you really wanted all along.”  You shook your head so that you could at least say you tried to disagree, but Ben was more concerned with tucking his cock away again and missed the display of defiance altogether. Once he was sorted he helped you up, taking a moment to examine your face before dragging his thumbs under your eyes to clear up the mascara that had transferred there.  “Pointless,” he muttered softly when he realised he was mostly just spreading the mascara around, “I’m sure it wont be the last you cry tonight. Unless of course you want to admit you’re nothing more than a desperate whore and beg for my cock.”  “I’m not begging,” you frowned, sure he’d be quicker to give in once he got close to your pussy.   Ben just smiled, “You will. For now I want you on the bed.”  You made to move down the hall but he stopped you before you made it more than a step.   “Wait. There’s a rule I have. Whores aren’t allowed to wear clothes past this point. I might make an exception for nice lingerie but not tonight. Not for you.” He didn’t even give you the satisfaction of stripping for him, pulling the zip of your dress down and tugging on your dress until it slipped down to join the mess of discarded menswear on the floor, quickly followed by your bra. “Mmmm,” he hummed as his eyes raked over your naked body, “Perfect. Bed, now.” A spank landed on your arse cheek and you hurried ahead of him, able to feel Ben’s eyes on your arse for the whole length of the corridor.  

The upside of being on the bed before Ben had even entered the room was that you had ample time to admire how good he looked without a shirt. You openly ogled him as he moved to the cupboard, taking a moment to dig something out, though his delicious back was blocking your view of what it was. Although your preoccupation with his naked chest also meant you weren’t as observant as you might otherwise have been. You were too distracted to notice him tuck something into his pocket, and you entirely missed it when he began speaking, only realising when he seemed to address you.  “-only fair I get to do the same to you, right?”  You blinked, knowing you’d missed something but not wanting to let on because you knew he’d be a dick about it.   As it was he raised his eyebrows and prompted you to respond, “Well? It’s a simple question. You’re not normally this ditzy, did sucking me off make you too horny to think?”  You shook your head, “No Sir, I thought it was rhetorical.”   For a moment you weren’t sure your gambit had worked but then Ben laughed, “Almost a shame you’re not so cockdumb yet. But maybe you’re right,” Ben strode around to the top right corner of the bed, squatting slightly to pull something from under the mattress, “My expectation was that you’d agree.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged it back, fitting a black loop around it.   As he tightened the restraint you realised what he’d been talking about. That this was pay back for when you’d tied him to the yacht’s bed. He’d been eager for it then, practically walked you through tying sailor worthy knots with the rope, but you couldn’t blame him for wanting to see you bound to his bed in the same way. So you just wriggled yourself into a little more comfort as he rounded the bed and restrained your other wrist too.   “Now what are you going to do to me?” you pouted at him coyly, feeling a little like you were poking a bear.   “I already told you.” he said, kneeling on the end of the bed, “I’m going to make you beg.”  That was when he revealed what he’d taken from his cupboard and tucked into his pocket. The vibrator wasn’t huge but it was powerful, making you jolt as he pressed it to your clit.  You squirmed but the wrist cuffs kept you from being able to move too far from its buzzing and you couldn’t help but moan as your long denied orgasm built.   Ben quickly stopped the toy, replacing it with his fingers, dragging them through the wetness between your lips, “Go on whore, tell me you want my cock in this needy cunt.”  You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from moaning again as his fingers entered you easily. He thrust them in and out of you a few times before bringing the vibrator back to your clit. Whenever Ben sensed you were getting close he’d stop touching you entirely. Sometimes even before you were close, preferring to hedge his bets and stop early rather than risk giving you the orgasm. It would undercut his dominance if you came earlier than he wanted, even if he ruined it. So he was careful with how he edged you. He alternated between his fingers and the vibe. When he felt you were enjoying yourself too much he’d intentionally ignore your clit. You’d be left with three of his fingers pumping into you, hearing Ben make pleased little hums when he found spots within you that made you whine or gasp. When that didn’t seem to be enough to make you give in he upped the ante, pressing the tip of the vibrator into you. It didn’t stretch you as much as his fingers (or his cock) did, but the patterns of vibrations when he turned it on made up for what it lacked in size.

While you’d already decided you’d let Ben have it his way, part of you still wanted him to have to work for it. Unfortunately, any ideas you had about withstanding his onslaught went out the door very quickly. You were way too worked up to hold out and the combination of his fingers and the toy he was fucking into your cunt had you begging in only a few short moments. At your first, “please Sir,” Ben laughed. “Embarrassing how easy that was,” he smirked, “I expected more but I guess you really are just one of my whores.” You whined as he removed the vibrator and his fingers, worried the edging would continue all night. “S’pose it’s about time I fuck you properly. Lord knows im stiff for it.” You watched as he undid his zip and finally removed his pants, his cock semi hard again, and you couldn’t keep yourself from begging again. “Only one question left. How should I do it? Flip you over and take you from behind?” He wrapped his fist around his cock and you whimpered as he stroked himself harder, “Make you ride me? I know how much you like being on top. Think I like the idea of seeing you under me too much for that. This time anyway. No, I know what I want.” His breath came a little harder as he moved onto the bed, cock still in hand as he pushed your legs open again. “I want you to watch me while I fuck you. I want you right where you are, tied up, incapable of dominating me. You’ll soon see how much you like it.” As he spoke he pressed against your hole, teasing you one final time before he finally gave you what you wanted. His cock slipped in easily, and Ben’s groan was nearly as loud as yours. At another time, with free hands and a clearer mind, you might have enjoyed that more, knowing Ben was as desperate as you were. But after so much edging and teasing, you could only focus on how good and full you felt. Ben’s eagerness extended beyond just sounds of delight too. Any plans he might have had to draw it out, go slow and deep to torment you more, went out the window as soon as he felt you clench around his shaft. His hips jolted forward, cock sinking into your audibly wet cunt, and he couldn’t help but do it again and again, falling into a rapid rhythm. Barely half his length made it in you, his thrusts too rapid to allow him to get much deeper, but it didn’t matter. The feeling of him dragging against your walls would have been enough, but Ben also added a thumb to your clit. He rubbed you messily, more concerned with how it felt to be inside you, but you didn’t need much stimulation to get close again. “Cum,” he said simply when you moaned about how good he felt. He fucked you through the first orgasm, praising you for being such a good whore, not even relenting when you were panting, no longer arching under him. “You’re going to cum again, sweetheart” he ordered, pounding into you with a particularly hard thrust that made your head spin. A slight breathlessness was the only sign he was at all worked up, which just added to his control, and all you could do was nod in agreement, sure you would cum as many times as he wanted no matter how hard it became. Ben chuckled, clearly pleased with how fucked out and compliant you were, but focused his energy into fucking you rather than any banter. You squirmed a little more, a touch sensitive after your first orgasm, but not uncomfortably so, and your second came up quickly too, your body eager for release after being denied it for so long. Ben didn’t last much longer either, the feeling of your cunt tightening round his cock again enough to undo him. He groaned more and more as he got closer, finally pressing himself as deep as you could take him as he hit his release with a satisfied moan.

Ben collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you comfortingly into the mattress as his lips found your neck. He was breathing harder now, the puffs of warmth tickling your skin.   You groaned as you tried to shift under him, your thighs aching from being spread open, but you found you couldn’t close them since Ben was still filling you.   “Uh uh uh,” he tutted into your skin, “Didn’t say you could shut your legs.” He pushed himself back up, leaning back to look at himself disappearing into you, “You look good like this.”  You shivered as he ran a finger around where you were stretched around his length, your wrists jolting in the bonds.   Ben remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, absentmindedly touching your pussy and your thighs, as he took in your dishevelled and restrained appearance.   “I think I want to see you cum again.”   “Again?” you whimpered, partly from his touch and partly from his tone.  He answered by reaching for the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit and holding it there until he’d forced a third orgasm from you, just because he could.  It was good but a lot, your body more sensitive now, and unable to move as freely as you’d have liked. There was no escaping the stimulation, no shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrations or to spread them over more of your cunt than just your clit. You had to take it the way Ben wanted you to, the vibrators setting higher than you would have chosen, pressed firmly in place until your toes curled and your thighs shook.   Ben pulled out as you neared the climax, so that when you came he could watch his own release dribble onto the sheets, grinning cockily at the sight.  When he was finally satisfied, he turned the toy off and let you collapse, chuckling as he leaned over to free you from the restraints. Gently he rubbed your wrists, making sure you were okay as you gathered your senses.   “What was it you said about me not caring if my whores get off?” he asked, flopping on top of you again.  You wanted to come back with something clever but your brain was still too hazy to manage anything more than, “Oh shut up.”  “You beg real fucking pretty by the way. It’s obvious I’m the best you’ve had.”   You rolled your eyes at his smirking, the insufferable way he was speaking reigniting your desire to put him in his place, “Keep being such an ass and I’ll have to pick out a toy to use on you.” You squeaked as Ben cut you off, grabbing your cheeks so your lips were pushed into a pout.  “No. Eager and willing sluts don’t threaten their Sir’s. While you’re here, you’re mine,” his hand covered your cunt possessively, “I’m going to want you again tonight and I expect you to keep being the good girl I know you secretly love being.”  You swallowed thickly, nodding in his grasp.  Ben let you go and, as if to soften his words or placate you, added, “But maybe tomorrow I’ll let you tell me some of your silly ideas, see if you can convince me they’re more fun than fucking my new toy brainless.” 

#ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #my writing #my fics

[snappedsky]

Borderlands: Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter

Skies invites the Vault Hunters on a treasure hunt of epic proportions.

--

The Treasure of Captain Red-eye Part 1

“So, you wanna hear a story, do ya? One about pirates and treasure?”

“I told that story already,” Marcus complains, “the one about Captain Blade and the Lost Treasure of the Sands.”

“Sure,” Skies agrees from where she’s sitting at Moxxi’s bar, in front of the Crimson Raiders. “But that’s all that was- a story. This is an Epic.”

“Centuries ago there was a pirate queen by the name of Captain Red-eye,” she regales. “Red-eye commanded dozens of ships with hundreds of men. If you had to travel between planets, you had better pray to any god out there that your ship didn’t cross paths with her fleet, or she’d strip you of everything you were worth and leave you to freeze in space.”

“Red-eye was brilliant and powerful but what made her truly legendary was her treasure. With all the plundering she did over the years, she was rich enough to make the CEOs of today’s corporations blush. And she refused to spend it, instead hoarding it in the treasure rooms spread across her fleet. My kinda gal.”

“When Red-eye felt her life beginning to wane and come to an end, she gathered all of her treasure onto her flag ship, marooned her crew on a planet, and flew off with it on her own. Red-eye, her ship and, most importantly, her treasure have been lost ever since...until today.”

“About ten minutes ago, a Dahl research group was excavating a massive asteroid when they dug up something intriguing.”

Skies holds out her ECHO communicator and it displays a holographic image. It shows a symbol in the shape of an eyeball, the iris resembling an open, fanged mouth. “This was the insignia of Captain Red-eye’s flag ship, meaning that asteroid is where Red-eye parked to die hundreds of years ago, with her long lost treasure.”

“Since the news broke, every pirate, adventurer, mercenary, bounty hunter, low-life, thrill-seeker, treasure hunter, adrenaline junky, and money grubber in the galaxy is gonna go for that treasure and kill for as much as they can carry. And of course that includes me.”

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #borderlands fanfiction #borderlands au #borderlands oc #moze the gunner #zane the operative #fl4k the beastmaster #amara the siren #myocs #myart

[deathbxnny]

Hello!! I'm the one who requested the older brother of the traveler and my scenario is how the male reader and the hsr character meet

The male reader is traveling world to world to find their siblings then they go to there world and they meet there the reader stay there for months then his about to leave but the hsr character stop them and the hsr character confess there felling and the reader accept the confession but they got a long distance relationships and the reader only go back to hsr character when something happens or special events happened and they kinda have an on and off relationship and that's all

-----♡

A/N: Hello, thank you for giving me a more specific scenario, it was very helpful! I hope you'll like this!<33

Featured characters: Jing Yuan, Blade, Luocha, Gepard

Content: Some angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort, long distance, sfw

Reader is asked to be male, but pronouns aren't really mentioned!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Luocha

You and Luocha came to an agreement, when you first met eachother. You'd both travel to the Luofu together and have eachothers back, before finishing your jobs and parting ways. It was simple and safe, a good way to keep companionship during your respective assignments. He had to deliver a coffin and you were tracing a lead to find your lost siblings.

But that strictly professional agreement started unravelling, the more time you spent with eachother. You had things in common, your conversations were deep and comforting. You seemed to understand eachother in many different ways and were practically inseparable by the time you arrived at your final destination. You didn't think that the goodbye would be this hard and neither did Luocha, who had bluntly told you about his feelings.

A relationship would be hard and practically impossible, with how many world you had to go through. You didn't want to give up your siblings for anything in the world. Not even for the man you've grown to love. And Luocha understood this, accepting any relationship you wanted, as long as he could have a part of you just for him. He didn't care if you were with him or galaxies away, knowing that your heart belonged to him, was more than enough.

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan was the one to allow you to stay, when you first arrived on the Luofu and asked to look around for your siblings. He was intrigued by your story and sympathised with it, as he tried helping you out with the resources he had. You spent alot of time together during those months of searching, until eventually, you were ready to move onto another world.

Jing Yuan didn't realise how hard this would hit him. It shook him to the core, when you first announced it to him and made him realise the feelings he had grown for you. He was however strategic and methodical even in his confession for you. It made you hesitate for even a moment and that made it worth it in Jing Yuan's glinting eyes. You still left, but as his dear lover. He had all the time in the world to wait for your return anyways.

He always made a huge celebration for you, whenever you came back to him after many months away. He'd hold you close, not once letting you go, until you had to leave again. He was patient, confident that one day you'd return to stay permanently, with your siblings in tow.

-----♡

》Blade

You had agreed to stay with the Stellaron Hunters for a while, so that you could get more information on your siblings faster. You and Blade respected eachother for your strength on the battlefield and were often assigned on missions together. It forced you to spend time with eachother and eventually made you develop a deep trust, that you both quietly accepted. He had your back and you had his.

He knew that you'd have to leave eventually. It was a part of your contract after all and a given, considering your goals. And he wasn't used to the warm feelings in his heart. He wasn't used to love or affection. But he had become so used to you, that he'd be damned if you left him. His confession was silent, a single grab at your wrist before you turned away. You looked back at him, understanding him instantly.

Your relationship was undefined and made no sense to anyone, except to you two. You returned to him every now and then, always relishing in eachothers company, before you had to leave him again.

-----♡

》Gepard Landau

Gepard saw it as his duty to help you find your siblings. He showed you around, asked the supreme guardian for help and even took it upon himself to look out for them during his shift. It was a way to also return the favour, after you saved him from an ambush. You spent everyday together, when you eventually started joining him on his shifts. Gepard felt like he could be open and honest with you, something he appreciated greatly. So much so, that it was easy for him to fall for you.

He tried to ignore how much it did rip his heart out, once you decided that it was time to go at first. He didn't think it was right for him to confess, especially when you had such important goals in mind. He'd be perfectly fine with being just a friend and waiting for your return every day for an eternity. Though he had to do no such things, as he accidentally blurted out his emotions anyways. And you thankfully accepted them.

He fully supported your endeavours and your quest to finding your siblings. He'd do the same for his after all. He'd patiently wait for your return, eager to meet your family one day. Then, you could maybe finally be together permanently, something he very much looked forward to.

-----♡

A/N: Alright, here it is! Thank you again for the request!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr luocha #hsr luocha x reader #hsr gepard #hsr gepard x reader #hsr

[danceswithsporks]

Awake- Part 1

Crosshair X Innkeeper!reader

** Not Canon to Season 3 **

Part 3 of the Complete Series

Story summary: Crosshair has seen both sides of the board when it comes to finding his place in a changing galaxy. Now that he knows the truth and is a free man, will he be able to adjust? Or will he need the guiding light of an innkeeper?

Authors notes: Well here we are! Part 3 of the Complete Series! Excited and nervous to get into Crosshairs story during all of this! So sorry for the long wait between Calm and Awake, but I truly hope this was worth the wait and you all enjoy the story!!

Awake, you loved being awake this early. The sun was just barely cresting above the horizon and coating the sea in a soft orange hue. The moon yos were still asleep as was the rest of the island. Your fingernails tapped against the ceramic of your mug filled with warm delicious caf as you watched fishermen leave their homes and make their way down the island to their boats. Your inn was currently empty, the Empire’s new rules and regulations making traveling more difficult for everyone. Once the sun came up you’d get a few islanders coming in for a meal but other than that it was just you in your big seven-room inn. 

One of those rooms was your private apartment, set up to have everything you’d need without having to go out into your inn. The other six rooms were basic and held the essentials. A bed, a desk and chair, a dresser and a lamp. You also had a dining room with four different tables, a common area that housed a warm fireplace, a kitchen in which you did all your group cooking, and the patio that you were currently standing on. Usually, you'd take your morning caf in your apartment but with no one around you’d decided to take the opportunity to just enjoy your inn to the fullest. 

You watched as one of the clones who’d taken up residence at the top of the island walked by you. Wrecker, that was his name. The fishermen loved having him around to help with the ships and the day's catch. Your friend, Stitches, simply loved him. Even if she wouldn’t admit it yet. Two others arrived with him, his brothers Tech and Hunter. Your other dear friend, Chai, had feelings for Tech. You envied both women, finally finding the ones that warmed their hearts. Tech had saved Chai’s life a few months prior when a tsunami had hit your island and in turn, a bond had been formed. From what she told you about the clone, he had some kind of feelings for her as well. Both of them couldn’t see it yet, but you could. As for Stitches and Wrecker, well some kind of interaction had happened between the two of them on the same night of the tsunami making the two of them develop feelings for one another. For both parties, it seemed things had only escalated since then. 

The leader of the group of clones, Hunter, nodded to you as he walked by your patio and down the path toward the docks. You didn’t know too much about him, only that he kept to himself for the most part. From what Stitches told you, he cared only for the safety of his brothers and their sister Omega.  Omega, an odd little girl with a heart of pure gold. She’d joined Stitches on one of her visits to your inn a few weeks ago. She’d been intensely interested in the ins and outs of an inn and how it all worked as well as the customers you’d had. Mainly if any bounty hunters had stayed with you. The truth was that you didn’t know if you’d had any bounty hunters as customers. You tended to avoid delving too deep into your customers' personal lives unless they became regular. Which was very far and few between. 

Stitches had mentioned to you that two other members of their group weren’t around, Crosshair and Echo. Both had left on their own and while Omega talked your ear off about Echo when she’d visited, she hadn’t mentioned Crosshair at all. You wondered what had happened there. The first foghorn of the morning rang out across the island as the first of the ships left the docks and the thoughts of the clone brothers and sister quickly left your mind. Soon your regulars from the island would be stopping in for breakfast, it was time to get to work. 

-*-

“CT- 9904 it is time to awaken.” Emerie stared into the cell of the clone who’d stunned her over a week ago. His mood had decreased exponentially after his escape attempt. No doubt a result of the neurotoxin Hemlock used. 

Crosshair reluctantly opened his eyes and stared at the bright light in his cell. “What now?”  He was tired of these constant tests. 

“Your message has been decoded. Doctor Hemlock has questions for you.” She tapped at her datapad a few times before nodding to the two guards with her. “Bring him to interrogation room eight.” 

A long sigh left Crosshair as he sat up and extended his wrists for the restraints that would be coming. “What, rooms one through seven are too busy?” 

Emerie ignored the snarky comment and turned to step out of the way of the guards. Crosshair reluctantly walked by her with his hands in front of him. The walk to the interrogation room was silent save for the sound of droids moving by them and the cries of the clones who’d lost their minds. Emerie found she held no sympathy for the clones in these cells. They were traitors to the Empire and thus would be treated as such.  If only they’d submit to the reprogramming that was offered to them, their lives would become so much easier. 

The door to the room opened with a hiss making the medical droid within turn towards them. It hovered with a tray of supplies momentarily before placing them down and moving to the side of the room. “On the table. Strap him down.” Her eyes never moved from her datapad as she spoke. 

“Do whatever you want. I have nothing to share with you.” He wouldn’t crack, he wouldn’t waiver. He’d tell them nothing even if it meant his death. Crosshair had made a lot of mistakes in the last year. Choosing not to completely rat his siblings out was not one of them. If the Empire knew even a fraction of what he knew when it came to clone force ninety-nine and how they worked then they’d have been found a lot sooner. But Crosshair was nothing if not loyal to his brothers at the end of the day. Sure. He’d hunted them down in the beginning to get the girl back but his eyes had been opened after Kamino. He only regretted that it took his mission with Mayday to fully see how worthless he was to the Empire. 

Mayday, the clone who didn’t deserve to die. Crosshair found himself thinking about him a lot these days. How he could have protected the man and saved him? How they could have survived that avalanche better and found help somewhere else. So many variables that he thought about constantly. The sound of the restraints on the table drew his attention as he was secured to the cold metal. Emerie moved next to him and stared for a moment. “What?” 

She didn’t care for this clone, he was a traitor, not her brother. A traitor. “Give us the information he requires and make this easier for yourself, CT-9904.” Make it easier on them both. “Where is the clone named Omega?” 

“I don’t know.” Hissed Crosshair while eyeing the large needle on the tray nearby. No doubt the same mixture from the last time he was here. Knowing Hemlock though, it was more potent. 

Glasses were adjusted as Emerie suppressed a sigh before continuing. “Ct-9904, you sent an encrypted message containing the phrase ‘Plan eighty-eight’. What does that mean?” 

Crosshair hissed as the needle punctured his neck and the solution was injected into him. The chemical burned in his veins. “You figure it out.” He wouldn’t give them up. No matter how much this hurts.

“How do you know how to contact them?” She tapped at her datapad and the restraints around his wrist began to hum as electricity prepared to course through them. “How do you contact the clone unit known as Clone Force ninety-nine?” 

The sting of the electricity around his wrists made Crosshair tense. He could survive this. This was nothing compared to the sting of betrayal if he gave up his brothers. “I. Don’t. Know.”  

This would be a long interrogation at this rate. Emerie sighed. “Think for yourself, CT-9904. You can stop all of this right now if you give me the information I want. To show she was serious, she reached to the table and held up a small vial. “I have the antidote to the neurotoxin racing through your veins.” She tapped her datapad and lowered the electricity power. “Take a moment to think, Crosshair.” 

His eyes shifted to stare at her as she used his name. It was the first time he’d heard it in months aside from hearing himself say it or in his dreams. It had to be a trick. What was her angle? She moved the vial of antidote side to side for him to see, the liquid within moving in unison and drawing him in. Relief was right there, all he had to do was answer a question.

-*-

“Crosshair, please.” Gentle hands cupped his face as pure eyes stared into his. “Open up to me? Let me know the real you.”

“You couldn’t begin to understand what I’ve been through.” Crosshair tried to pull away from the hands but found himself stopped.

“ Let me try, sniper. Let me be the one to listen to you and know you. Let me love you.” She cooed sweetly to him while stepping forward and pressing her body against his. “Let me be yours, Cross.”

“Cross. CROSSHAIR” 

Crosshair groggily opened his eyes and looked towards the sound of someone saying his name. His name? Looking at the door to his cell, he saw blonde locs and young brown eyes staring at him. No. Why was she here? “Kid?” He sat up quickly and moved to the door. 

“Crosshair. You’re ok!” She looked over her shoulder quickly before looking back to the clone. “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m just glad to see you’re ok.” 

“What are you doing here?” Were they here to rescue him? 

“Hemlock found us and threatened the others. I gave myself up to protect them.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, instead opting to stare at her feet.

Now that she mentioned it, he could see the prisoner's uniform on her. “What!” He hissed loudly. Hemlock had found them? Had threatened Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo? A fury burned inside the sniper at her words. He’d strangle Hemlock the moment he could. But wait. “How are you here?” 

“Hemlock is letting Nala Se use me as an assistant like before.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ration bar. Carefully she slid it through the slot designed for food on the door to the clone. “I heard they don’t feed you guys enough. Take mine.” She didn’t like the taste of rations anyway.

Crosshair carefully took the ration stick and placed it on the floor next to him. “You can’t come back here Omega. Ya need to think about yourself.” If they found her here talking to him. 

“Omega.” A familiar voice cut through the space. “You should not be down here.” 

Crosshair glared at Emerie as she walked down the hall to them both. “Leave her alone. She was just leaving.” 

“It is not wise for you to be down here. We must go before you are discovered.” Emerie placed her hand on the shoulder of Omega. She ignored Crosshair. 

“Wait. I need to tell him something.” Omega felt herself turned away from Crosshair and prepared to walk. She needed him to hear this from her and not someone else. 

Emerie looked down the hall for any sign of guards or Hemlock. “I will relay the message to you later. We must go.” 

“Go, Kid.” Why was Emerie being so protective over her? He thought back to the interrogation room two weeks prior. She was kind to him then as well. What was going on? 

Omega looked over her shoulder towards Crosshair and nodded. She trusted Emerie to tell Crosshair about Tech. Maybe she’d get lucky and run into him in the clinic and she could tell him then. It just needed to be her. She wiggled out of Emerie’s touch and ran to the cell door, her fingers gripping the metal. “I’ll be back.” 

Crosshair shook his head while Emerie watched them. He didn’t trust her. “Don’t come back.” He didn’t intend for the words to be so harsh but she needed to not come back here. She needed to focus on herself. Pulling his hands away from the door, he stood and walked to the bed. 

“Come, Omega. We must be going.” Emerie gestured for Omega to start walking and the girl finally obliged. She wondered what was so important for the child to tell CT-9904. Whatever it was she’d pass the information along. If only to help the girl trust her more. Out of all the people who deserved to be here, the child was not one of them. 

Nodding solemnly, Omega pulled away from the door and walked away from Crosshair. She wouldn’t listen to him, she’d come back and see him as often as she could. 

-*-

It would be nearly two weeks before Crosshair saw Omega again. Two long weeks of uncertainty and upset. It hadn’t been Emerie who’d told him about Tech. He hadn’t seen the woman in days. No, it had been Hemlock. The asshole had told him while getting ready to torture him again.

“I’ve heard your sister has been to see you. A good reunion?” Hemlock stepped around the table that Crosshair was strapped to. The doctor had taken a liking to testing his latest creations on the clone in hopes of breaking him finally.

Crosshair twitched on the table but continued his refusal to answer. “Where. Is. Omega?” He hadn’t seen her in four days since she’d first come to see him. In all honesty, he’d expected she wouldn’t have given up so easily when it came to seeing him. The fact it had been so long had surprised him.

”Omega is on restricted privileges right now. Far too many attempts to visit you and other clones.” Sighing, he walked around the table while tapping his fingers on the metal. “Nonetheless, she will acclimate to our ways here and be given back her privileges in time. That the ways of the Empire are here to help you. Not restrict you.” He stopped next to Crosshair's head and leaned down. “While there’s still hope for CT-9901 and CT-9903 to understand this I’m afraid CT-9902 will not be able to.” Crosshair's eyes shifted to him, catching the man’s attention. “Ah, you didn’t know? Omega failed to tell you?” Hemlock pulled away from Crosshair while clicking his tongue against his teeth a few times. “Tsk tsk tsk. She should have told her brother that his twin was dead.”

No. Tech couldn’t be dead. The batch was indestructible. They’d survived Kamino being destroyed with them inside of it. Surely Tech could have survived whatever Hemlock had done. His eyes stared daggers into Hemlock's skin. He didn’t believe him.

Hemlock chuckled deeply as he stepped over to the syringe waiting on the medical tray. “You don’t believe me? A shame. I have no reason to lie to you.” Holding the needle up, he tapped it a few times to remove the air bubbles before returning to Crosshair. “Help me find clone force ninety-nine and I’ll allow you to see Omega.”  He watched as Crosshair turned his head away from him and stared at the ceiling. “All I am trying to do is show them the benefits of working for the Empire rather than against it. With your help, you, your brothers, and your sister could earn the life you want. Instead of them being on the run.” The syringe was held up for the restricted clone to see. “So I’ll ask again, CT-9904. Where is Clone Force ninety-nine currently hiding?”

Letting them go so easily after taking Omega had been a mistake. He needed them and their desirable mutations when it came to his dark trooper program. But he was desperate for the young clone to be returned to get Nala Se to work. The Kaminoan had refused to do any work until the girl had been retrieved thus putting them behind schedule to an almost concerning point. It wasn’t until he returned and looked at the latest numbers in the program did he realize the abilities of Clone Force Ninety-Nine would be useful to him. He had CT-9904 and though he hadn’t turned yet, he would at some point. They all cracked eventually. When he did then Hemlock would be able to use his superior sniper skills to train his dark troopers. “Help me to help you.”

Crosshair could still remember the pain from that night. Hemlock's concoctions were becoming more potent. He shifted in his bed while wincing at the pain in his arm. The day prior another clone had tried to free the others and pull off a prison break. Crosshair had been foolish enough to try and join in an attempt to find Omega. The clone who’d led the prison break had been killed on sight and the rest of them punished. His punishment? His dominant arm was broken. 

The guard who’d broken his arm had spoken to him briefly while returning him to his cell. “Even if you did escape you’d be useless as a sniper now. Is there a reason for you to escape?” Those words had cut deep for the sniper.

His arm had been placed in a sling to slowly heal as opposed to him being placed in a bacta chamber. A feeling that Crosshair found painfully uncomfortable, a constant reminder of what happened when you tried to flee the mountain. No one left Tantis. Not alive at least. 

“Crosshair!”

Omega’s voice surprised Crosshair and he visibly jumped. “Omega. What are you doing here?”  How did she get out of her cell?

“Nala Se let me out. Something is about to happen, I don’t have much time but be prepared.” Omega looked over her shoulder before looking back to Crosshair. Her eyes caught sight of the sling and she frowned. So he had been punished during the last prison break as well. 

“What are you talking about? No one would be foolish enough to try and break out after the last attempt.” It had just happened, no one would be dumb enough to try again. He didn’t bother moving from the bed this time, instead opting to lie down and simply listen to the girl. 

“Nala Se got a message out. Plan thirty-seven.” A noise behind her drew her attention for a moment. It wouldn’t be Emerie this time. Not after the clone had raised concerns about the amount of testing going on with Omega. Nor after Emerie tried to help Omega escape a week ago. Omega hadn’t seen Emerie since then and Hemlock told her she wouldn’t. Hemlock had Emerie disposed of after it was clear the woman was no longer under his control. It seemed he wouldn’t keep anything from the girl. “I can’t stay long.”

Plan thirty-seven. Coordinated attacks from both inside and outside with trust in the information. The only problem was that they didn’t know when it would happen. “This place is nearly impenetrable. Don’t be a fool and believe they’re coming, Omega.” 

She looked back at the defeated clone and shook her head quickly. “They’re coming. We just need to be ready.” The noise echoed through the halls once more and she moved away from the door. “I need to go. Be. Ready.” 

Before Crosshair could say anything back, she was gone. Crosshair let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. The poor girl was about to have her heart broken. There was no way that the batch would be able to survive an assault on Tantis.

 It would be foolish to dream as such. 

Taglist:

@rndmpeep @sarahskywalker-amadala @queenariesofnarnia @idoubleswearimawriter @bambambunny @ravenclawbitch426 @jupitersaturnapollo @mzjakao @heylosers06 @dangraccoon @impala1967666 @andrakass2 @ducks118 @motte-the-goblin @rintheemolion @merkitty49 @jediknightjana @onyxtides @moon-wrecked @mssbridgerton @griffedeloup

#clone wars fic #the bad batch fic #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #crosshairs bad batch #the bad batch crosshair #Spotify

[itsscromp]

Team initiation

Hey again everyone, Like I said in the previous post. This story will indicate a soft reboot of the first rocket story I have done. I really want to focus on the bond between the reader and Rocket. so without further ado, let's dive in :D. Word count:1.4K

It was hell right from the start, One simple bike ride home when you were 10 years old resulted you in getting kidnapped into space. Sold onto the black market and just tossed into a massively unknown world. Nevertheless, for 13 years you adapted and escaped for a life of your own on the colony of Knowhere. But apart of you yearned for a since of belonging, Friendship, family...

But all that changed one day when you were running away from Nova Corp, You stole some food and tech to feed on and sell for credits. But as you were running, you bumped into someone making you trip.

"Woah woah easy, you ok bud ??" The man then helped you up, He was... Human ??

"Spread out, they haven't got far" One Nova Corps officer called out.

The man then brought you away from the nova corps into a part of knowhere they wouldn't usually poke around.

"Wanna explain what that was all about ??" The man asked you as he fixed his jacket.

"It's not much its just food... and some stuff to sell..."

"Look theirs's more to this story pal, so I suggest you best start talking."

You rubbed your hands on your face sheepishly as you began to tell your story to the man. As he listened on, he couldn't help but feel pity and sympathy for you.

"I'm so sorry. I know this all too well, I was kidnapped from earth when I was 8 years old, If theirs anyone who knows this better than you it's me."

"Thank you... Sorry I didn't get your name"

"Oh sorry, Name's Peter Quill or you may know me as star lord ??" He puffed his chest out slightly.

"No... Sorry"

"Oh man, not even one mention ??"

You shook your head slightly. He said disappointedly, this always happens to him. "What's your name kid ??"

"Y/n, Y/n L/n"

"Nice to meet you y/n..." Peter than got a brilliant idea.

"Say y/n, how would you like to be a member of the guardians of the galaxy ??"

Your eyes went wide at the proposal.

"Oh, peter... I don't know..." You seemed a little unsure.

"What ??, It's gonna be awesome. We're a tight-knit family, even though we aren't blood-related. we always have each other's backs and I know you will make an amazing guardian." He smiled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You couldn't help but smile back. A new life, with amazing people. Maybe he was right, It could be worth while.

"Ok, I'll give it a shot"

"Oh y/n your gonna love it !!"

Peter then brought you back to the Milano, It was a pretty cool ship, You could hear music playing from the speakers of the ship.

"Redbone ??"

"Yeah, Surprise you have music taste dude." He smirked playfully ruffling your hair.

You chuckled as you then pulled out a device. Your dad's ipod.

"This was all from my dad..., this is pretty much all I have of him"

Peter's expression softened as he gently rubbed your back.

"I'm really and truly sorry y/n" He gently wrapped his arms around you into a hug, warm and comforting. Making you feel safe.

"Uh, quill who's the stowaway ??" A voice spoke up, almost in a Brooklyn accent.

"Oh right, y/n this is rocket"

You looked over and saw a walking talking raccoon.

"Your... a raccoon ??"

"Hey, I ain't no flarking raccoon !!!, Ain't no thing like me 'cept me !!" He sort of angrily yelled.

"Don't worry about him, But I would say I would advise calling him that again in the future."

"Noted"

"Alright, well rocket. y/n is our newest member of the guardians."

"Oh great another humie" Rocket rolled his eyes.

You wondered if he didn't like you, but Quill told you that he just had a bit of a snappy attitude. Upon letting you meet Groot, Drax and Gamora, he showed you your room.

"Well, here we have your room. It may not look like much right now but you make it yours alright ??"

You nodded as you looked around, sitting down on the bed.

He smiled and left you alone, this felt good. A new home and potential new friends. It was gonna be awesome.

Over the next few weeks, you continued to get to know everyone, Groot and Peter were the best ones of the lot. But you noticed Rocket was closed off and still a bit of a dick to you. It made you a bit sad as like he didn't want to know you at all.

But one day, all of that changed, Peter noticed how distant Rocket was from you and decided to change that. He knew you two would be best buds, He just knew it. So one day, he set up a mission for the two of you.

"Ok Rocket, y/n. I need you two to head out to Pazar and protect and stop abilisks from getting into their power supply. They said they'll pay us good if we stop the deal."

"Got it" You confidently smiled.

Meanwhile, Rocket grumbled and rolled his eyes. It looked like he wasn't too pleased with the idea. But never the less he pulled through, The two of you arrived at Pazar and prepared for the ongoing attack.

"What's our game plan here dude ??"

"We lay these traps out for when they arrive, and once they trip on them we go in for the kill to stop them." Rocket smirked as he then began to set up the traps.

"Maybe this could help too ??" You then pulled out a few devices.

"What are these ??"

"Wireless electric tripwires." You confidently said as you showed him.

Rocket inspected your device, No manufacturer numbers, no serial numbers. Was this custom-made??

"You make these humie ??"

"Yeah, I've been making a fair bit of those when I was 14."

"This ain't that bad. Could work"

The two then heard roaring and readied up as 3 abilisks showed up and then readied up, Gearing your weapons as you two then fought the monsters from eating the power supply. It was a long tough battle. But then rocket's aero rig malfunctioned and left him wide open to be eaten. But as he was backing away. He was pushed out of the way and saw you get eaten.

"Y/N !!!"

He continued blasting it until he killed it. But you... All those things he said to you. He didn't mean any of them, he wished he could say sorry.

But before he left he heard a noise, coming from the beast's belly. It blasted open as you then crawled out. Covered in yellow gunk.

"Oh, that was so gross..." You said in disgust.

"Y/n..." Rocket was relieved to see you alive. "Don't go doing anything stupid like that !!!" He said more in a fearful voice than an angry one.

"Rocket you were going to die, I wasn't going to let you."

At that moment, Rocket realised how deep your loyalty was to all the guardians. It made him realise that you were willing to sacrifice your life for his. This made him regret shutting you out.

"Y/n... I... I'm sorry for what I said to you, For everything... The thing is... I was scared"

"Why were you scared ??"

"I had a lot of bad things happen in my life, It makes me scared of people."

It took a little bit but you clicked everything once you figured it out, You gently went over and kneeled to his height, His ears drooped and his eyes showing so much guilt for hurting you.

"Rocket... I promise you in my life. With my life, I will never hurt you. I would hate myself If I ever did something like that, You're my friend. Family to be exact."

Rocket looked down for a bit and then wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you. Not caring you were covered in the monster's insides. "Can we start over ??"

"Of course" You smiled

Rocket softly smiled as he then let go of the hug. Then smirking.

"Come on, let's head back. We need a shower, you mainly." He snickered

"Yeah, Let's go" You chuckled as you got up and headed back to the ship.

It was a rocky start from the beginning, But what happened then was now going to be the start of an amazing friendship.

Taglist: @callofdudes @raccoonfallsharder @mybelovedraccoon @rogertaylorswift @rocketenjoyer

#platonic #rocket raccoon #reader insert #rocket raccoon imagine #rocket raccoon x reader #Rocket raccon x reader platonic #gotg rocket #guardians of the galaxy imagine

[justagalwhowrites]

Celestial - Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

Din takes his beloved to see something special.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author was paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC!Maddy

Warnings: None! Straight fluff :)

Length: 1.6k

A/N: Just a sweet, fluffy little trip to a (completely made up) outer rim world in celebration of the eclipse this week. Written by request for @mboogie3 :)

Din was in unfamiliar territory. 

Not physically, of course. He was well traveled, there was little in the galaxy that surprised him anymore. Years of chasing bounty skippers from one end of the galaxy to the other showed a man a lot of the universe. 

But one thing it hadn’t done was put him in a position where he wanted to impress a woman. 

At least until he met her. 

It had started simply enough. Din was looking for jobs that he could take and fly under the radar of the guild, not on great terms with everyone there after taking off with the child. The job was a good one. Take a large shipment of medication from Coruscant to an outer rim world that was facing an outbreak of disease. Traveling with the medication was Maddy, a woman who was meant to ensure it got where it needed to go. 

But the second Din saw her, he knew that’s not all she would be. That was impossible. Her kind smile, the depth of her dark eyes, the way her hair framed her lovely face. These were things he was not going to be able to move past, even once the shipment was safely delivered and the medication - along with its beautiful escort - was left on a far away world that Din had little reason to stay on. 

But the situation on the planet had been far more dire than either Din or Maddy knew. An Imperial remnant had gotten there just before the two of them had. The Imps tried to intercept the medication and they almost succeeded, Din and Maddy barely escaping with their lives. They managed to hand off the medication to a local leader before taking off, not able to risk staying after putting a target on their backs. 

That’s what Din liked to pretend made things permanent. He couldn’t, in good conscious, leave her there. Not when the Imps knew who she was and had a reason to go after her. It wasn’t safe, it made sense to bring her along. For protection. 

Protection he was all too happy to provide, especially as her presence on his ship made it feel more like a home than it ever had before. Just being around her was a comfort, something constant and kind that he felt like he could fall into. So easily, he could fall into her. 

He’d given into that urge months ago and now, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever fought it. Yes, she made him vulnerable in ways even the kid didn’t and opening himself up to feeling something for someone who he could lose was painful. But she was so worth it, the months they had spent together and all the ways she made his life better made that risk the most worthwhile one he’d ever taken. It made him want to do something special for her after she had done so much for him. 

She had told him once that she’d always wanted to see an eclipse. A real one, not one caused by the positioning of ships or a recording of one on a data pad. 

“Why?” Din had asked when she’d mentioned it while reading the child a story. “You see the stars all the time.” 

“I know,” she smiled a little, his son sitting happily on her lap. “But that’s something else, this is a coincidental thing that makes a world look so different for a time, something that we can’t control no matter how hard we try. Wouldn’t that be incredible to see?” 

Din decided then and there that he was bringing her to an eclipse. He just needed to find one. 

It had been trickier than he expected. He’d heard of eclipses but never seen one himself. He’d never been that worried about seeing one. But, when he started looking for one, he learned that they were rare, remarkable. Much like Maddy. 

The sun and the moon needed to be just the right size. They needed to be just the right distance from each other and from the planet. Their orbits needed to work in tandem in just the right way. And even then, you had to time it exactly right, the phenomenon changing the entirety of the sky for only a short while. 

But, eventually, Din found a planet that met all the requirements, the intersection of orbits happening not in dozens of years but just a few weeks. 

Din did all the research he could with her there aboard the Razor Crest, something that was surprisingly difficult when trying to surprise someone living in such close quarters. He waited for her to be preoccupied, usually playing with Grogu or reviewing star charts with a small frown on her beautiful face. He was almost caught in the act a week before the big day, reading something about the solar festival when she came into the cockpit. 

“What’s that?” She asked from the doorway, Grogu propped on her hip. Din scrambled to close the hologram before she could actually see it. 

“Information,” he said quickly. “About where the next bounty is.” 

“Oh,” she deflated a little. 

He frowned below his helmet. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she went back to smiling. “It just looked like fun is all. We could use a little fun.” 

“Patu,” Grogu said. 

She laughed. 

“Yes, especially you.” 

Din smiled to himself. She had no idea. 

“If this hunt goes well, cyar’ika, maybe we can take a break after, go somewhere you want. As long as we can lay low.” 

Her face brightened, a sparkle in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I’d really like that,” she said. “We’ve never had a chance to just take a break.” 

After that, Din was determined to give her exactly what she wanted. After all her kindness to him and Grogu, all the three of them had been through together, she deserved everything she wanted. 

He wasn’t able to keep his plan a secret for long once they were on planet, though. Even the spaceport was covered in decorations, dark banners with glowing white coronas in the middle of them, a smattering of stars around the edges, small lights that were dark in the middle and bright around the rim hanging everywhere. 

She looked around almost cautiously, Grogu held close to her chest as the three of them left the ship. 

“Din…” She frowned, her brows knitting together as they emerged from the spaceport and onto the streets of the city, where decorations and stands celebrating the eclipse covered everything. “Din, are we…” 

“You said you wanted to take a break,” he said. “And you said you’ve always wanted to see an eclipse. So, cyar’ika, I thought we could do both.” 

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look quite so happy, the arm not cradling his son going around his neck as she stretched on her tiptoes to press herself against his armored frame. 

“I can’t believe it!” She almost squealed. “I never… this is amazing! I can’t believe we get to do this!” 

Din just smiled and watched as she made her way through the town, stopping at all the stands, running her fingers over the delicate keepsakes and traditional ornamentation before stopping for one of the fluffy, light pastries coated in thick, dark frosting. 

“Where are we?” She asked, mouth full, as they stopped to watch musicians playing in the street. 

“Deasu,” Din said. “An outer rim planet. There is a full solar eclipse here every five years and it’s been celebrated by the people here for centuries.” 

“That’s incredible,” she said, taking another bite of the pastry. “I didn’t even know there was anything like this in the whole galaxy.” 

“Well,” he said. “I’m glad we were able to find it.” 

The three of them spent the day exploring the festivities, Maddy even dragging Din out to dance as the sun was setting and the spotchka set in. 

Din made sure they had a prime spot to watch the eclipse the next day, settling in at the edge of a lake as the celebration spilled over from the town and into the open space just outside it. Musicians played, children ran, people danced. Maddy sat close to Din, the two of them watching Grogu play with the bugs in the grass near the water’s edge as the eclipse drew closer and closer. 

As the moon began to blot out the sun, she put on the special glasses and watched as the light changed and the air grew colder. The light on the ground shifted, becoming speckled crescents that scattered over the grass and the water. Maddy leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin propped against her palms, an utterly enraptured look on her face as the moon blotted out the sun. Things went almost eerily quiet as the phenomenon neared totality, the sky looking closer to night than midday. There was a moment of silence as the perfect, slender ring of light formed around the moon. Light and darkness, in perfect harmony. Then, there was a cheer, the celebration going from nothing to everything in just a moment. 

Maddy laughed and took the glasses off, looking in awe at everything around her. Din was sure that whatever she was seeing was beautiful but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her smile was wide, her eyes were bright and she looked happier than he had ever seen her. His view was better. 

“Isn’t this the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen?” She asked, looking up at the darkened sky. 

“Yes,” he said, still watching her. “It is.” 

#fanfic #mandalorian x oc #for you #the mandalorian x original character #din djarin x ofc

[saltymongoose]

Cont. From This Post. (@cosmica-galaxy Hey, here you go lmao <3)

[This part contains: Bandits, MERC, the Nexus Core, Fanatics, N51, and Demoniacs]

To continue from where we left off when it comes to the Bandits, it would do well for the Player to be very hesitant on interacting with them. They're cannibalistic and violent, in addition to being the first to attack whenever they catch a glimpse of the Player's unofficial bodyguards. (Though that might be for the best, with Hank as their opponent.) In this way, it's unlikely for the Player to have much of a motive to get closer to them; the boys are so protective that a situation where they'd actually be able to befriend one of the more nonviolent members probably won't occur without serious effort.

In the same vein, the Bandits know very little about the Player, and they probably don't have much of an interest in them at the moment anyway. Typically their thoughts are more centered on their own survival and where their next meal is going to come from, which leaves little room for thoughts of an otherworldly being impacting their lives directly. If anything, they're more startled by the Player's entourage than the reason the SQ agents are in the area. Due to this, it would be difficult for the Player to form much of a bond with them simply because they won't cross paths very often. (And they would also probably be fearful if they did; the Bandits do not want to end up as additional victims of the wanted criminals that protect the Player.)

As of this moment in the story, the members of MERC are also in the same camp of not knowing about the Player - save for one person: Sheriff. Christoff has mentioned this "Player" to him once or twice, and while his words have been exceedingly positive (and almost idolizing) when discussing them, the Sheriff doesn’t know very much beyond what the Savior had told him. As a result, he himself thinks kindly of them, but not from his own experience. However, because he doesn’t know much about the Player, he never bothered to divulge such information with the others in MERC.

The Player, at this point in time, knows far more about them than vice versa, which makes them more likely to go out of their way to befriend them. Plus, it’s not like those in MERC are inherently hostile like with the Vamps or Bandits, and they have no real reason to go after the Player (save for their mission to interfere with Hank, Deimos, and Sanford getting into the city). So long as Sheriff and Jeb have a good relationship with the Player, the MERC members will have ample opportunity to make friendships with the otherworldly being in question. (Unless the SQ's leader and agents get in the way.)

Regarding what remains of the Nexus Core, they still follow Phobos' orders, which means that they probably will be hostile to the Player because of their choice in company (the SQ and Dr. Christoff). Even if the last thing that Phobos would ever want is for the Player to be harmed by his own organization (that just reflects horribly on him), he never actually made his people aware that the Player exists, which leads to this situation. The Player also has no motive to get in the way of the boys' mission to put a stop to Project Nexus, which would naturally puts them at odds with the Nexus Core anyway.

As a result, it is in the Player's best interest to avoid the Nexus Core's remaining personnel, which doesn't leave much room for bonds or friendships. While it is possible for some of their members to act cordially around them if the boys aren't around, I would say that it isn't worth the potential risk. Luckily the NC being unaware of the Player's existence means that they won't immediately go after them, but they're certainly not as open to outside partnerships of any kind at this point. They still have a project to complete, after all.

Crackpot's Fanatic faction is an interesting one; they're physically separated from most other Nevadans and almost entirely absorbed by their obsessions with buoyancy and Zeds, which means the chances of them knowing about the Player's significance are extremely small. The only way that the Fanatics would have their interests piqued is if one of them happened to see the Player exorcising some of their abilities (which is possible) - at which point, the Player would also probably end up as an object of their fascination. (Especially if the Fanatics happen to see them using their cheat that enables levitating. 😬)

As a result, the Fanatics' purpose for trying to get close to the Player isn't exactly for friendship itself, although it could turn into this with enough effort. Another likely result is for them to start worshiping the Player much like they do Crackpot instead (which their existing vessels would loathe, but that's a given). Regarding Crackpot himself, as detailed in previous posts, he might also try to use the Player for his own benefit given how power-hungry he is, but there is a chance that they can form something more genuine with him. If they're willing to put up with his self-grandeur, of course.

To get more on the Player's side of things, their curiosity might drive them to investigate the Fanatics more. The group's behavior is questionable, but there is a lot about them that remains unknown to those who play the game, so there's always that avenue to explore. Plus, seeing how Crackpot interacts with people who give him the respect he's always felt he deserved would also be intriguing. Again, if they're willing to put up with all the weirdness that comes with being close to the Fanatics and their leader.

Moving on to the N51, it's one of the most mysterious groups in Nevada, especially from the Player's standpoint. They're a faction that wasn't even created by Mr. K, so they're definitely pretty unique, even if they don't play a huge role in the Arena Mode storyline. I can see the Player having an immense interest in them as a big fan of Madcom (especially if they keep up with the communities' fan projects), so they'll probably want to dig deeper into the organization. However, they would probably have great difficulty with that, considering that the N51 is a covert group.

That being said though, the N51 is shown as hunting for tech related to the more powerful forces of Madcom's universe, like the AAHW, NC, and even The Machine. I would presume they do so because they want to know more about the Employers, enmeshment, etc. but truthfully their reasoning for this is unknown. What this does tell us though is that there is a chance they would be interested in the Player's existence primarily because they're a supernatural being of unknown origin - and a very powerful one at that. Whether this attention would be good for the Player or not is another matter.

Finally, we have the Demoniacs. These guys worship Stygian, and they have little to no contact with any other factions, which already cuts down the chances of them hearing about the Player to almost zero. Their interest in the supernatural is really limited only to their chosen Employer, and as such, they don't have much incentive to seek out information about the Player either. However, if Stygian decides to order the Demoniacs pursue information about them, it's not like the cult would ever consider refusing. There are uses to having fiendishly devout worshipers, and Stygian knows this very well.

The Player would also be aware of the Demoniac's servitude towards the Employer from their experience playing the game, and as a result, would probably seek to avoid them the same way they avoid the AAHW. They're very low on the scale of potential friendship, if only because of their affiliation with Stygian.

Aaand I think that's it if we're talking about faction relations lmao. Though do let me know if I missed any groups, and I'll be happy to discuss them as always. 👍 :)

#heyo I got some more lore for you all 🤟 #ask #cosmica-galaxy #samau #self aware m:pn au #longest ask response ever 2023

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 31: Conspiracy

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. COVER ART BY @zaana!!

Master List of Chapters

LISTEN. I am chopping and rearranging the canon timeline like nobody’s business, but I swear it all works out. ;) If you’d like more of an explanation than what I tried to convey in the story, check the notes at the end of the chapter. It’ll be well worth it, trust me. ;) Also… I know there are tons of “wait, but what about–” kinds of points to be made with where the story goes, and I was going crazy trying to account for them all, but… just… ssshhh. Just enjoy. LOL!

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Tech and Vel wove their way through 79s, getting jostled in every direction. As soon as they found an upstairs corner with a smidge of space around a single stool, she whipped off her shoes as quickly as possible. Tech's mouth opened immediately, but she was one step ahead of him. "Don't worry, I'll put them back on for the contest." They shared a smile, and he offered her the stool, but she preferred to stand beside him, gazing over the railing at the boisterous crowd below.

Vel shifted awkwardly on her feet, pulling her skirt up, her shirt down, and her neckline closer together. She tried to fold her arms across her chest, but it looked odd with them up so high. Opting to lean both elbows on the railing, she tucked both fists under her chin, allowing her forearms to cover her up somewhat. But that felt weird too. She should have told Tech to find out when the contest judging would begin, instead of potentially having to be here all night.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Tech asked, leaning close to her ear and speaking loudly to be able to be heard over the music and crowd.

"This isn't really my style," came the honest answer. "I mean... look at these..." Vel stood up again, gesturing to her ample bosom that flowed across the top of the shirt like that of a German beer maiden. Tech's eyes dropped briefly, returning to her face with supersonic speed, and a flush crept across his cheeks, barely discernible in the dark and neon lighting of the club. His mouth felt dry, and he cleared his throat before swallowing a few times. "Sorry, I don't mean to shove em in your face," she laughed, now blushing along with him. "It's like they have a mind of their own in this outfit."

Tech smirked, returning his eyes to the crowd below as he shuffled his arms out of his jacket sleeves, sliding it off his shoulders and holding it up to her with a hand on each side. "Would you like to wear this?"

Vel's heart warmed at his chivalry, and she sheepishly took the jacket, slipping it over her own shoulders and clutching it together in front with one hand.

"Thank you," she said, eyes large with emotion. She was finding it increasingly hard to think about anything other than him when they were apart, and when they were together, it took all her resolve to keep her hands (and mouth) off of him. He, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. Like an on and off switch, he would be completely normal and functional in everyday life, then become someone entirely different during a moment of passion. It was intoxicatingly addictive, and as the warmth and scent of him wrapped around her, she felt almost dizzy. "Maybe this outfit was a mistake," she admitted. "But you look amazing."

"I apologize for neglecting to mention it earlier..." Tech began, turning to face her and sliding a finger along his collar as if it were too tight. "But... I did not anticipate that your attire would be so... form-fitting..." He swallowed again, eyes dropping to the floor.

"Is it bad?" Vel asked, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. When had his opinion come to matter so much to her? Bah, that was a silly question. She cared what he thought from the beginning, it was just easier to pretend that she didn't. Her mind began to race with a million possibilities of why he wouldn't look at her too long, none of which were positive.

"Terrible," he answered, sending her eyebrows shooting straight up. He bit his lip for a moment, formulating his words, then lifted his gaze back to her face, which surprised him with how angry it looked.

"This whole thing was your idea!" she yelled, disproportionately hurt by his disapproval. "I wouldn't be caught dead in this if not for you..." Her words drifted off as he stepped in close, one hand on her waist outside his jacket, the other gently tugging her toward him by the lapel.

"You misunderstand," he said, dipping his head to bring his husky voice nearer to her ear. "I do not comprehend how anyone in your immediate vicinity is expected to function with such an exquisite sight in their field of vision." He pulled back a little to meet her gaze, his face tantalizingly close. "I also cannot fathom how a single person is able to be so irresistibly attractive in such a variety of ensembles. You..." he swallowed again, eyes wandering across her features, "You are as captivating in a tunic as you are in an evening gown. As beautiful in your mechanic attire as you are now. Your allure comes not from what you wear, but from who you are. It is you that I find completely irresistible. Every time I see you with a different appearance, that realization grows."

If his proximity hadn't taken her words from her, his speech certainly did. A flush of tingly heat swept across her, reminding her of the waterfall, where he'd made it seem so easy to declare that she was sufficient, that she was worthy, that she was... desirable. His admiration was a soothing salve to a heart that had been battered with rejection and disappointment in a variety of ways throughout life, and she felt as though she were simultaneously melting and blooming.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked breathlessly, completely at a loss for anything else.

"I do not believe it is a requirement for you to ask–" Tech began, cut off by the immediate press of her lips to his. She cupped his face, a single tear weaving its way down her cheek as she nuzzled closer, breaking the kiss for a slight shift of the face before bringing her mouth back to his. They stayed there for a long moment, hearts weaving together in a new way, and when she pulled away, looking to the ceiling and carefully wiping her face without touching the makeup, he didn't release his grasp on her waist and jacket.

"I don't know how you see me the way you do," she said, speaking softly enough that he had to lean close to hear her over the noise.

"And I fail to comprehend your inability to perceive yourself," he returned, and her cheeks curved against his.

"You can't just say what I say with fancier words to make it sound like an original thought," she challenged, a playful gleam in her eyes. He pulled back to look at her, the corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile.

Alriiiiiight! Clones and creatures of all shapes and sizes! It's time for the costume contest!! A loud voice boomed over the music and chatter, both of which quieted down a bit in response. Participants, please come to the bar to receive your instructions!

Vel tried to hold back her grimace as she regretfully slid Tech's jacket off her shoulders, admiring his dapper appearance and slightly askew angle of his hat from her face bumping into it. He pulled the jacket back on, straightening everything from top to bottom, and looked at her with an uncharacteristic shrug. Perhaps now he was feeling sheepish for this grand idea of his. But Vel was grateful for the excuse to see him this way – the suit was somehow a perfect match for him, as if he'd been made for another time and another world. It made her yearn for a simple life somewhere... Together. But now was not the time for such thoughts.

Sign-ups were surprisingly brief, as were the instructions. Each participant or group was to write the name of their costume on a card for the announcer, who would call them forward to walk back and forth across the middle of the bar. Vel hadn't thought about that, and the concept of being under the scrutiny of so many eyes made her stomach churn. Her anxiety must have been palpable, because Tech took note, giving her a concerned look to which she shook her head in response. Instead taking her hand in his, he stood tall beside her, unwilling to reveal the magnitude of his own unease and regret.

Names were called and costumes of all varieties were paraded back and forth, much to the delight of the audience who clapped, cheered, and provided colorful commentary on each ensemble. Soon, the two of them were next in line, and the announcer gave them a nod as he picked up their card. Wrapping her arm around his, Tech took a few shaky steps, then a few more confident ones as they followed the designated loop. The announcer's voice rang out loud and clear.

Next up, put your hands together forrrrrr... Historical Artifact and.. Busty Lady? A sharp exhale was quickly muffled as he covered the microphone, turning to a fellow employee at his side and conversing rapidly. Vel's mouth dropped, her eyes flying to Tech's in surprise. His brows were low, mouth twisted in confusion. That was definitely not what he had written. He felt the indignation rising and opened his mouth to explain, but promptly snapped it shut as he realized that the hand Vel had clapped over her mouth was covering laughter, not mortification. The crowd hooted and hollered, banging mugs on tables and calling out all kinds of ridiculousness. They finished their promenade with a rushed scramble back to the start, and Vel continued on into the hallway for the refreshers, stopping only when she'd found a quiet corner.

"Vel, I most certainly did not provide those names to them..." Tech began, but she waved a hand dismissively as she tried to contain her giggling.

"I know," she managed to get out between chuckles, "I just... What the kriff are we doing?" She shook her head, still laughing, and looked herself up and down. "We could have offered some ship repair or maintenance if we needed money. This is ridiculous."

His own face softened in the fullness of her mirth, and Tech shrugged, brows furrowing again as he considered her words literally. "You are correct; I realized earlier that my assertion that this would be an effortless way to procure additional credits was, in fact, not entirely true." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I apologize. However, I believe this is one of those memories that people often recall with fondness."

"Down the road," Vel added, cupping his face with a sudden wave of affection. "Now I'm going to hit the refresher and then take that jacket back while we hide in a corner until they announce the winners, deal?"

Tech nodded his agreement, taking the opportunity to use the refresher himself. It was shockingly empty, and he had a sudden idea. Taking the furthest stall at the end, he locked the door and pulled out his datapad, wondering if the obnoxious bulge in his pocket had been too noticeable. Shrugging the thought off, he began searching...

The door opened again, admitting a single person from the sound of the footsteps, and as the music slowly faded with the door whooshing shut, the echoing sound of urination soon followed. The person flushed, spent an inordinately long time washing his hands, and then slowly dried them off. Tech expected to hear the boots head for the door again, but they didn't. Distracted by the sudden silence, he tilted his head to peer through the space between the door. It was a clone trooper, wearing the standard white armor with some faded blue accents on it. His low voice reached Tech's ears as he looked at himself in the mirror.

"Come on, show me that winning smile. Theeeere it is. You've still got it..."

The datapad nearly slipped from Tech's fingers as he stared, brow furrowed and nose wrinkled, at the oddity playing out before him. He thought it might be wise to take his leave and let the trooper have his... affirmation time... But the door slid open again. After what felt like too long of a pause, another clone's voice filled the room.

"So. I guess the 501st is back on Coruscant."

"Oh yeah," the clone at the sink said, turning to cast a glance at the newcomer. Tech caught a glimpse of the bright red medic symbol on his shoulder. "We just got back from Ringo Vinda. The strangest thing happened out there."

"Yeah, I know..." Footsteps echoed as the other trooper approached, stopping just out of sight from Tech's snooping crack. Mirror clone gasped all of a sudden, and Tech nearly banged his head into the wall to try to see why.

"Fives?!" he exclaimed, stepping back in shock. "Whoa! What's goin on? They said you tried to assassinate the Chancellor! A-and that you're infected with that virus that killed Tup!"

The conversation grew stranger and stranger, warning of grave danger for everyone, including the Jedi, with a conspiracy plot that involved people "all the way to the top". Tech's interest was thoroughly piqued, and he began furiously tapping on his datapad. When the paranoid clone identified mirror clone as "Kix", it caught his attention again – their recent mission on Anaxes had been with a clone named Kix, also in the 501st, but his hair had been longer, in the standard military cut. This one had some sort of fancy pattern shaved into his nearly-bald head. Shrugging it off as another strange concept of "fashion", Tech continued to listen closely. When the doors whooshed open and shut, he could still hear the medic, leaning on the sink and letting out a long breath. When the stall door opened behind him, Kix let fly a string of expletives that would have made Jesse proud as he whirled around to face the movement.

"What the kriff? What are you– oh karking hell... You're that clone from Anaxes aren't you?"

"Tech, yes," he responded matter-of-factly. "And I apologize for startling you. I was searching for something when I overheard your conversation." He waved the datapad as though it would make his story less weird. It didn't. "However, I also keep a constant scan on the local comm channels used by the authorities, and I must inform you that the Coruscant Guard is being dispatched to find your friend. They may already be here."

"Great," Kix answered, mind reeling. "I've got to get his message to Rex, then."

"Yes, that is urgent. If you give me the coordinates of where he is planning to meet them, I can provide an additional lookout– oh. One moment." Tech disappeared into his datapad again, mouth turning into a frown. "It would appear that a probe droid has identified Clone Trooper Fives and is following in stealth mode. I do not believe he will be able to communicate his information without an undesired audience intent on arresting him."

"Kriff, kriff, kriff..." Kix muttered under his breath, rubbing his forehead with a hand. He'd thought he was finally having an easygoing night blowing off some steam with a friend and chatting up an attractive Twi'lek. So much for shore leave.

"Give me the coordinates of their meeting place, and I shall depart immediately to warn him. Once we find a secure location, I shall transfer the new coordinates to you to pass on to Captain Rex. I would do it myself but he may not recognize nor trust a coded transmission from an unidentified source, which is paramount to avoid discovery."

"Alright, fine." Kix answered, still shaking his head. "What has that idiot got himself mixed up in this time..."

* * *

Whaaaat!! ;) Okay, so here's how I pictured it... The Batch goes to Anaxes and infiltrates the communication center with Rex/Kix/Jesse. They rescue Echo. Then they come back to Kamino. Echo recovers. Tech and Vel happen to be at 97s when Fives is there to tell Kix to set up a meeting with him and Rex/Anakin (because in this timeline, it didn't happen yet, but occurred just now for the sake of the story). ;) 

reblog artwork by @vimse!

Tag List: @merkitty49 @vimse @arctrooper69 @dystopicjumpsuit @starrylothcat @ghostperson69 @dreamie411 @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @sinfulsalutations @ughhhhfoff @coraex @amorfista @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @followthepurrgil @littlefeatherr @sunshinesdaydream @thew0nderer2342 @dangraccoon @iceskategirl18 @chickentenderx @skellymom @girl_scout_reject @mooncommlink

(If you're on my regular tag list, let me know if you want to be tagged in this; I didn't want to spam ya!)

Click here to join or leave the tag list. <3

#tech fanfiction #tech fanfic #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #tbb fic #bad batch fanfic #star wars fanfic #tech romance

[literary-illuminati]

do you have any recs for completed web serials? i went into pgte, worth the candle, pale, and now the flower that blooms nowhere before each was finished without realizing. i guess also books would be good but i like the length and energy of something published in installments

hmmm, If you've read Pale I'm assuming you're already at least aware of Wildbow's other works? And I mean PGtE technically now qualifies! :P

But hmm, okay, I'm not sure any of these are really total and unqualified recommendations, but stuff that's complete and that I finished without resenting the effort I was putting in to finishing it-

The Last Angel: Extremely over the top space opera about the mad-with-grief/rage AI dreadnought that's the last relic of human civilization after an alien empire destroyed Earth and deported the remainder of the species to a reservation on the far of the galaxy then thoroughly obliterated their history and culture. Story is fine, love the worldbuilding, cursed by how much information is in author answers to the dumbest commenters in the world. There's a sequel which I didn't both reading. Main characters are lesbian rep of the 'clearly written by a straight guy but, like, he's trying his best' variety.

Unsong: In a world where the Apollo mission crashed into the crystal sphere surrounding the earth, a young man in California works methodically vocalizing and recording the results of random collections of syllables for a company attempting to discover and patent the secret names of God. Sadly basically the entire book goes downhill from that utterly sublime premise. More clever than good, really, but the chapters of worldbuilding by chains of esoteric word association games are a lot of fun. Nonezero amounts of real r/menwritingwomen shit, IIRC.

Shadows of the Limelight: Renaissance Europe, but being famous literally gives you superpowers in direct proportion to how famous you are. Messy, but actually followed through and kept its nerve on some big reveals, which I appreciate. If you liked Guide (and especially liked hating the heroes in Guide), you'll probably enjoy?

An Unauthorized Fan Treatise: Read this one two weeks ago so will put together an actual review sometime soon. Story of a murder mystery involving genre tv actors as told through the creepily obsessive essay series of a fan proving two of the leads of her favorite show are fucking. Don't regret reading it, but was left feeling that the entire third act was nothing but one long series of missed opportunities.

Anyway going to throw open the door to suggestions from people who actually read more than two web serials at any given time!

#mourning-ted #web serial #meta

[ordinaryschmuck]

Superheroes are stupid, but that's why they're awesome

This might be an opinion that might get people to hate me, but it's worth saying: Superheroes are stupid.

Now, that's not a bad thing. In fact, superheroes being stupid is a large part of why they work. I mean, think of your favorite superhero. Think of how they look or what their powers are. Think about the villains they often fight day after day, week after week, year after year. Think about THEIR NAME.

Spider-Man, Captain America, Wolverine, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, The Avengers, The X-Men, The Justice League, The Teen Titans.

Everything about a superhero is stupid, and the best stories aren't JUST the ones where Joker cripples Batgirl or Green Goblin dropped Gwen Stacy off a bridge. I mean, those ARE good stories, but they're not good because they were super serious or incredibly dark. They're good because writers EMBRACED the stupidity of superheroes.

Believe it or not, but embracing stupidity means more than just making jokes or comedies. It also means playing the stupidity straight, telling a story so good that no one could care about nonsense like powers, suits, and even names. Think about it: If a serious story DIDN'T embrace the stupidity of all those things, then it would do away with all of them.

Daredevil may be a crime drama about the cold death grip a mob boss has on the city and the constant battles to fight against him through the justice system, but it still features a blind lawyer who knows martial arts and jumps across rooftops in a devil costume. And the Dark Knight Trilogy might be a more realistic depiction of Batman, but it still has him dress up as a bat as he battles Two-Face and The Joker. Despite telling more serious stories about superheroes, both of them were still willing to embrace the silliness of the character. They just played them for straight instead of for laughs.

And with that said, there's nothing wrong with making comedic stories with superheroes either. Guardians of the Galaxy may have made jokes about the lunacy of a talking raccoon, but that talking raccoon also turns out to have the most tragic backstory of the entire MCU. The Suicide Squad may have people placing bets over which supervillain dies first, but the movie is still about the dark corners of the US government and how it views convicted criminals and "lesser" countries.

A superhero story can embrace stupidity in a serious and comedic fashion. They just need to remember that...

A. Don't reject the notion that superheroes are stupid. Do that, you have a movie like Fant4stic, which takes itself too seriously to the point where it can't even say the name Fantastic Four.

B. Don't lean too much into stupidity. That'll get you something like Batman and Robin, filled with so much cheese and camp that not many people can stomach it.

Whether you play it straight or play it light, never forget how stupid superheroes are. If you forget it, you forget what made them last for decades, nearly centuries. Writers embraced that stupidity and told great stories because of it, and fans couldn't care because they got a good story that lets them see past the stupidity.

We know superheroes are stupid, but that's what make them awesome.

#superheroes #marvel #dc #daredevil #the dark knight #guardians of the galaxy #the suicide squad