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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months

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Padwan anakin x more dark side leaning reader?

Padawan Anakin Skywalker x dark side leaning male reader

Headcanons

Featuring my boy Jon Antilles, give it up for Jon Antilles everybody.

You had both been younglings with the jedi, and later Padawans. You had been older than Anakin by the time he joined the order, meaning you were just at the cusp of getting sent off to the other corpse if you didn’t get picked as a padawan.

You had never fit in much with the Jedi. You were too emotional, too quick to anger, and your grudges knew no ends. You still had a chip on your shoulder because Yoda decided to tease you when you were very small, if that said anything about your ability to hold grudges.

You were the child of two slaves, who had served under the worst of the worst. This meant you had been surrounded by darkness and hate since you started growing in your parents’ womb. You had overheard many of the older jedi wonder if that was the reason for your emotional state.

Anakin didn’t fit in much either, having joined so late and being the so called chosen one. Because of this, you two found comfort in each other.

Anakin was so excited about being a jedi, though he also feared living up to the potential. In your eyes he just switched one slave owner for the next, as that was how it felt to you. But he was young and bright, so you didn’t wanna rain on his parade.

But just before your 13th birthday, you were taken as a padawan of one of the lesser known and vaguer Jedi of the order, Jon Antilles. He was a person who followed the will of the force and not the order, and the force led him to you.

He would later tell you that he looked into your eyes and saw the fire raring within you, unable to be quelled and as a result, making you someone who would suffer under the pressure and expectations of the order.

Saying goodbye to Anakin was hard, as you two had found yourselves as the only true friend the other had. Many feared you because of your known anger and revenge seeking tendencies, and Anakin because of the heavy burden of the prophesy.

But as two former slaves, you also both knew that the galaxy was vast, and that you had to go where the currents took you. Anakin also understood, even though he still didn’t fully understand the order, that you didn’t belong within the temple and that you needed to spread your wings.

Before you left, you pressed a kiss to Anakin’s forehead and gave him a bracelet made out of a thick black cord. It chafed the skin but was sturdy enough to take anything that may hit it. It was the last keepsake you had of your parents, and it had been what kept you going for all this time, and now you wanted Anakin to have it.

So, with one last goodbye, and promises whispered in the language of slaves, you left with your new Master, who told you not to call him master but instead refer to him as your teacher.

Jon Antilles had seen the worst the galaxy had to offer, and had no wish to be referred to as master by someone who was once a slave.

Back at the temple Anakin would find himself crying silently and tearlessly in his room, mourning the loss of a friend, his only friend. Obi Wan would feel his grief in the force, and would go to comfort him, knowing what it is like to lose someone so dear to you.

This would most likely lead to their relationship being better in this universe, at least a little. As that one moment helped cement a deeper level of trust and understanding.

Anakin stayed with the order and became more and more skilled, a part of him waiting for the moment you two would reunite. The bracelet stayed around his wrist, though he moved it to some other part of his body to keep it hidden, and other jedi started mumbling comments about attachment.

You thrived under Antilles, as he didn’t follow the orders from the council, the order, or even the republic. He only seemed to care about where the force wanted him, and by extension you, to go.

Your teacher was a firm believer in the light, but he also saw that the dark existed, so when you for the first time grasped the dark side in a life-or-death situation, he didn’t punish you like you feared.

Using the dark side once means it’s always with you, but instead of shunning you, your teacher helps you find balance, at least to the best of your ability.

The dark side is hard to master, and maybe you never fully do. But you never give yourself too it completely, always holding a tight grasp on the light beside it, letting the two feed off of each other to keep you from going down an unforgivable path.

Your anger and grudges still persist, and there are times you end up being needlessly cruel, but you catch yourself before its too late. During these times your teachers help is necessary, until you master it on your own.

Because of the nomadic lifestyle of Antilles and you, you end up ready to go on your own much before most other Padawan. Life experiences matures a person, and Antilles trusts you to do what is right, even if he has caught you practicing lightning or sucking the life energy out of things.

So as Anakin still works hard to be a better padawan and to fit the tight mold the order places upon him, you explore the outer parts of the galaxy, running with bounty hunters and pirates alike.

One might think you would be discovered as a jedi one way or another, but thanks to your less and jedi personality, and preferences for other weapons, you are never figured out.

Your loyalty to the rules of the order are also very very loose, if not nonexistent. The many experiences you have out in the galaxy puts many things into perspective, and you make your own theories and ideas about how the force works, theories that struggle against the rules of the jedi.

During all this time, Anakin can’t seem to leave your mind. Hes always present somewhere in there, the thin thread of a bond between the two of you so skinny its barely there anymore after all this time. But every now and again, you like to give it a little tug, smiling to yourself when he tugs back.

You two meet again during one of Anakin’s missions with Obi Wan, a mission that’s taken them further away from the core than Anakin has been since he was taken in by the jedi.

It’s a mission involving a slave trader who’s somehow smuggling slaves in and out of the republic, and the two jedi were sent to check it out but not get involved, much to Anakin’s annoyance.

They end up splitting up, not wanting to be suspected, and Anakin has to wear something to cover his head to hide his Padawan braid.

In the end, Anakin finds the hideout of the Slave traders, and just as he’s about to report it back to Obi Wan, a figure swoops in and starts ransacking the place.

Anakin can only watch with shock as you tear through the slave traders, the darkness inside you purring at their spilled blood, as the light silently approves of the justice you act out. Its only after you’ve freed all the slaves and take your hood off that Anakin recognizes you.

One way or another he follows you and corners you, in the way Anakin does, eyes wide but sparkling at how much skill you had shown in there, many questions leaving him as he wants to know what you have been up too and how you got here.

Most jedi would probably have disapproved of you killing the slavers, but Anakin had never seen slavers as anyone worth living, not that he could share those thoughts with anybody.

But at some point, you end up taking the Jedi padawan back to the room you booked for the night, where you two spend the entire night talking about what’s happened since last time you met, the bond between you strengthening after so long apart.

After that, you two keep bumping into each other. You had a feeling the force was playing a role in this, and you swore you could hear it giggling in amusement a sit pushed you together with its chosen one again and again.

Whenever you were around, the mission always ended much faster, meaning Anakin could slip away and spend time with you before reporting back to Obi Wan.

During this time, the childish crush he had had on you all that time ago comes back with a vengeance. Even when he sees you use sith lightning for the first time, he can’t seem to feel anything by affection for you.

Anakin knows he should fear you, but even as your turned turn yellow for a second or two as you lean fully into the dark during a battle, he only seems able to find your beautiful.

When Anakin kisses you for the first time, neither of you truly know how to react. Anakin’s never been in a relationship, and you have never really been with anyone you truly had feelings for. But Anakin just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, even as he knows it goes against everything the order has taught him.

If he truly were to follow the order, Anakin would have to report that you had fallen, even though you still used the light as much as you did the dark. After that he would have to stay away from you, lest you corrupt him. But he just can’t, so he stays, slipping you information so you know where his next mission goes, so you “accidentally” end up with a contract on that planet.

You settle on Coruscant for a while, which means Anakin can sneak out and spend time with you away from prying eyes.

The fact that you use the dark without succumbing to it ends up helping Anakin not fall when that time comes, but for now, you just help him get a better understanding of the force and how you have come to see it as an entity.

Obi Wan regularly wonders where Anakin goes, and worries to some degree, but he does realize that Anakin always feels lighter and more at peace when he returns from his outings, so he lets him have them to himself, hoping his Padawan would tell him if there was anything he needed to know.

As a result of your status, Anakin would start to think about leaving the order someday. Maybe not soon, but maybe one day he would like to leave with you and just go where the force takes you two.

He knows it’s a romantic fantasy, but Anakin can’t help but bask in it, even if he has to do it in secret. Being your partner just brings him more peace than any meditation ever has, and Anakin never wants to let you go.

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 4 months

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Like no one is watching

summary: a little stream rekindles feelings that had been lurking somewhere in between the lines. Or have they?

a/n *hits chest* guilty, guilty, guilty... yet I had to write this because I was about to go insane. Don't come for my head. Had never written for this man before. Enjoy. 🤍🫧

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It was supposed to be a chill night. Nothing big. Nothing special. All Vince wanted was to hang out with a couple of his old friends and mess around for a bit on stream. He needed to get his mind off the last couple of games that weren't his best. And it was just that—a good evening filled with goofy jokes—until Brian went quiet for a minute before saying, "Uuu, Y/N is coming over," and Vince's body nearly had an out-of-body experience. One that makes you fella as if, suddenly, you are standing a foot away from your body, and it almost feels like tunnel vision, but then it all snaps back into place. Yet Vince pulled the most neutral facial expression he could master before saying, "The one from the game?" making Brian simply hum in confirmation as he typed out a message to you.

The thing was, that it was stupid to even pretend that Vince didn't know you. Or that he only had seen you in one of his games as Brian's plus one. Well, besides being one of the NHL investor's daughter—a tag you shook off with a frown every time. You had made quite a name for yourself on your own. You had graduated from medical school with honors. And had opened a boutique in downtown Chicago... Not that Vince was keeping tabs or anything.

The truth was that he had never paid much attention to you at sports events or gatherings. Not that you were there often. But something about you standing there in the stands during his last game had messed with Vince's brain chemistry, and Vince just hadn't been the same ever since. He had, of course, asked Brian about your friendship and felt even more whiplashed when his friend casually shrugged while saying that you two had known each other for years. A friend of a friend. And since the energy was comparable, you had stayed in touch.

"Vince, keep the chat entertained while I let her in," Brian got up quickly, but not before stopping to address chat too, "Guys, your favorite person is here." Vince was once again left wondering how many times you two streamed together. And kicking himself for never really finding the time to watch his friends' lives. Laughter echoed from the hallway, and Vince had to mentally tell himself not to look back so he wouldn't come off too desperate. Paying extra attention to the sea of messages about how everyone was so excited to see you.

"Make some noise, make some noise," Brian shouted as he sprinted back, clapping his hands. He pulled the mic to his lips, "The one and only, Y/n Y/L/N." Your laughter filled the room, quickly followed by the clicking of your heels. "You are insane," you muttered, stepping through the door. A slight surprise washed over your face when your eyes fell on Vince, sitting in one of the chairs, but it was quickly masked by a warm smile. "Oh, hey, Vince," you muttered before leaning forward slightly to wave at the camera.

"Hey guys, long time no see. Please tell me that you've been making fun of Brian for me", you smirked, sticking your tongue out at him. "Changed my mind; I don't want you here," he huffed, playfully pulling at your hand. Vince blinked a couple of times. Finally realized that he had been staring at you the whole time, but then who could blame him? You had caught his eye back then with a messy bun, baggy jeans, and his team's jersey on. Now, with a black dress, heels, and full of glam. Lord was on his side, and he was sure glad that he had been sitting.

"Do I know Vince?" you read, your eyes darting to the awfully quiet hockey player to your right. "Yeah, we met. Was at his game, actually", you nodded slowly. "I should know all the rules by now, but..." Pulling a face, you shook your head. You avoided the games like a plague. Daddy's girl in the stadium. Those words alone made you want to run. You would rather fall face-first into dog shit. "We'll get you to more games, and you'll get it in no time," Vince's voice made your head snap back to him. The fucker dared to smirk too. Oh, but you knew his type. Heard all about it, and two could play this game. "Is that an offer?", you asked innocently. Vince only shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, "A fact." Your eyes stayed glued to each other. You hated how you could never get a read on him. How could a guy look both like the biggest mistake and like a gift from the Lord himself?

"They want to see your fit, Y/n," Brian's voice made you blink. Turning your attention back to the camera, you muttered, "Oh, wait," you backed up slightly. Trying to fit at least most of your body in a frame. "Do a twirl," Brian clapped his hands like a kid, making you shake your head. "Of fuck you, that's stupid," you muttered. "No cap, do a twirl," he motioned with his finger for you to do as he said. You rolled your eyes, but then you did feel cute today, so a little hype has never hurt anybody. "It's nothing," you said as you twirled a couple of times, "a black dress and these awful heels." You lifted one of your feet slightly, showing the sparkly, black heel.

"My turn!" Brian shouted, stepping up front as he went on a rant about what he was wearing. You stepped aside with a giggle. He was way too excited to do this, so alcohol had to be involved in this steam in some way. "Sponsorship event?", Vince said under his breath, clearly only trying to catch your attention. "You know it...", breathing out, you let out a sigh. People might call you ungrateful for this, but you hated attending anything that involved your father and his money. You were like a shiny toy for him. "Do you hate them?", he asked, catching a slight frown on your face. "Tell me about it," you said, laughing under your breath. "I ain't a fan as well," he added with a nod. "Oh, I know", you muttered, stepping aside from his chair.

"I will go for now; I need to get out of these before I start bleeding all over the floor," you chuckled, pointing to your feet once you found a minute of silence. You didn't want to just get up and walk out, so one way or another, you would have to find a little excuse to slip away. "Just get them off here," Brian muttered, not seeming to care as he scrolled through his playlist, looking for a new song to sing along to. "And flash the chat while doing so?", you rolled your eyes, "You wish for free content like that." You were about to wave your last goodbye when Vince cut in, "I'll get them." For a split second, you had hoped that you had misunderstood his intentions. So you just shook your head with a polite, "It's okay," but Vince scooted his chair closer. "No, no, I got it," he muttered, bending over.

A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hands on your skin. "No, Vince," you muttered. But he just continued pulling at the strap; his warm fingers touching your cold ankle, sending shivers down your whole body. He fidgeted with it for a moment, but with an awkward angle, it sure wasn't an easy task. You were hoping that he was just going to give up, but his palm grasped your leg just slightly above your knee as he nudged it to a more comfortable angle for him. You nearly let out a shriek, but it turned into you biting your lip. Your hands pressed against his shoulder as you steadied yourself.

But God the feeling of relief once he finally pulled the scrappy shoes off. Near heavenly. Making your head fall back as you hummed in delight, "Remind me to boycott high heels from today," you muttered. Not to mention that you didn't miss the way Vince's hands lingered on your skin before he pulled back away from you. His gaze moves upwards to catch your eyes. And the urge to just take his face between your fingers and... Pull yourself together, Yn. You turned away quickly. Hoping to hide the slight blush on your cheeks. "It was nice seeing you guys", you waved your hand to the camera before quickly picking up your heels and padding out of the room.

Vince's heart was beating so hard against his chest. He was toying with a dangerous line. Girls like you were off-limits for a reason. The rules were pretty clear, too. It was bad enough that this was on the internet. One stupid move and his head would be drilled raw with people screaming at him. Nor did it help that your daddy dearest had spent some pretty coin on his team this year. Yet Vince was itching to get up and follow you. Little could be done with the cameras on, but outside this room, where no one could see you...

"Do you want another drink?" Vince said, causing Brian to shake his can, which, to Vince's luck, was indeed empty. "I'll get..." Brian had started, but Vince was already up and out of his chair. "I've got you, man," he said, tapping his friend's shoulder. He only had one shot at this. You can only get lucky so many times. But he didn't even need to go looking for you because the moment Vince rounded the corner to the kitchen, you were there. Leaning against the counter with your hands crossed over your chest.

"You're following me or something?", you muttered, tilting your head to the side. Vince tossed the empty cans out. "Or something," he muttered back. "Now you think you're funny?", you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing back from the corner to step closer to him. "What do you want, Dunn?", you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. A smirk tugged on his lips. That devilish one. One that turned him from an angel to a man of sins in seconds. "Back to the last name once again; you know I like it." His words were breathy and low as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing you to pull back.

"You look really good," Vince muttered, letting his eye fall down your body. Following your curves before your laughter filled the empty place. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, frowning slightly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "You came here to tell me that I looked good?". This guy was something different. Yet your fingers reached up to his jaw, brushing over his jawbone. "You're adorable," you muttered. This time it was Vince who was pulling away, "I'm not adorable."

You bit your lip, trying to keep a serious face. Of course, he would get offended by a comment like that. "Yeah, I forgot that you're an angry puppy, my bad," you said with a firm nod of your head. Vince let out a huff, licking his lips as he stepped forward once more, towering over you. "Careful," he breathed out, leaning closer to your face. "Or what?", you urged him, not willing to back down. Your own hands moved to rest against his chest as you stepped on your toes. His warmth seeped into your palms. Vince's arms were pressed on either side of you. Caging you within his arms, "Or you might see a very different side of me." Your smirk matched his now as you bit your lip, tilting your head to the side. "Like..." you pushed on, wanting to see just how far he would let himself go.

"Not afraid that daddy will get mad?" The warm feeling in your stomach turned to ice. The smile faded from your lips as you reared back. "Oh, fuck you," you hissed, pulling at his arm to get away from him. You should have known better. "Y/n," Vince tried to grasp your arm, but you yanked it away quickly, "Forget it, Dunn." With a quick look around the kitchen, you grabbed your stuff and headed straight to the door, cursing yourself for willingly choosing to come here in the first place.

#I found myself on the dark side eh...#vince dunn imagine #vince dunn x reader #vince dunn #vince dunn x you #nhl x reader #ngl imagine #ngl x you #hockey imagine

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sixpennydame · 17 days

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dark side of the moon⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ [chapter 1]

Pairing: yakuza!Levi x f!reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary:

Neo Tokyo, 2235. You’ve escaped the festering wasteland that is Earth for Mars, to a city where only the strong survive, and everybody has secrets. Taking on a job as a hostess, you woo the city’s elite, your smile hiding your own dark past. When your path crosses with Levi Ackerman, said to be the strongest member of the Ackerman yakuza clan, you’re not sure whether to consider him a friend or a foe. Because in this city, nothing is what it seems. And the past never stays buried.

Author's note: I will be using Japanese words and phrases periodically and will have a glossary of terms at the end of the chapter.

Series Content/Warnings: mafia/yakuza AU, flashbacks, slow burn, mystery, cyberpunk, sci fi, non-binary Hange Zoe, eventual smut, dark content, graphic violence and sexual content, minors do not interact!

Chapter Content/Warning: mentions of blood, physical assault

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

Blood is thicker than you thought it would be.

A sea of dark red surrounds you, soaking your clothes and the floor around you.

Someone’s saying your name, but all you can hear is the thunder of your own heart beat.

“Hey. Look at me. Do you remember what I promised? That I was never going to let anything bad happen to us again. We swore that we would always be there for each other.

No matter what happens, I promise that I will protect you.

I’ll fix this.”

“Oi you alive? Can you hear me?” A voice said.

You snapped back to reality. Get it together. Don’t fuck this up.

“Sorry…could you repeat that?”

The person in front of you takes off their glasses and cleans them with the edge of their shirt. “I said, you’re obviously not from around here. Where are you from?”

You shift in your chair. You knew that you were going to stand out from the other inhabitants of Neo Tokyo the moment you arrived here.

“I um..I’m from Earth.”

Their eyes go wide. “Earth? That shithole? I didn’t know there were still settlements there. How did you even earn a ticket to get to Mars?” You open your mouth to reply, but they put their hand out. “Don’t answer that - it’s none of my business.”

Obviously your planet of birth has made you intriguing; hopefully intriguing enough that they’ll give you a job. They look you up and down like you were a science experiment. “And why would an Earthling such as yourself want to work here, at Club Azure?”

“I’m a hard worker and a quick learner. And I need to make money fast.”

“Mmmhmmm… you can definitely do that here, if the guests like you,” they smile, “and you certainly would be a unique curiosity.” Brown eyes gleam behind their glasses, “But why do you really want to work here?”

There’s a silence as you think about what to say, but decide you might as well tell the truth. “This line of work doesn’t require me to have Mars citizenship papers.”

“And there it is,” they nod, seeming satisfied with your honesty. “It’s true, we don’t really care about those things here. In return, we expect our employees to be…discreet about our clientelle’s information and other business that goes on here.”

“I can be discreet.”

“Is that so?” The brunette leans back in their chair and gives you another once-over, their finger tapping their chin. “You’re unique, and there’s a certain something about you… I’m certain the boss is really gonna love you,” they say out loud, more to themself than to you.

If they aren’t the boss, you wonder who is.

“Ok, you’re hired.” They reach their hand across the desk and towards you.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips; you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding your breath slightly. Your hand meets theirs and they shake it vigorously. “The name’s Hange Zoe. I run this fine establishment,” they say with pride. “And what should I call you?”

“My name is —“

Hange immediately puts their finger to your lips. “Nuh uh uh, you weren’t about to give me your real name, were you?” They click their tongue. “It’s best that you don't do that. If the authorities come skulking around asking questions, the less I know about you, the better.”

“Oh…I see.”

Seems that there’s a lot about this world that you don’t know.

“We need to give you a stage name. Let’s see..” They’re tapping their chin again. “…flower names are always a good choice. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Flower? I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“Oh right..you’re from Earth. It’s been a ruined wasteland for a long time..I guess you wouldn’t have ever seen them. Not that we have them here, either..” Hange stands up from their desk and begins to pace the floor of the small, cramped office. “What are your interests? Any hobbies?”

“I don’t have any hobbies but..” a smile comes to your face, “..on Earth, I loved to look up at the moon.”

“The moon? Hah! That orb is just an exclusive country club for the rich and famous. If your goal is to get there then you have another thing coming.”

You shake your head. “No, nothing like that. But when I was small, me and my si—” you stop. You’re getting too personal. Hange notices, but says nothing. “I mean, I would sit out and look at the moon for hours. I just wanted to escape.”

“And it looks like you’ve done that.” Suddenly Hange’s face brightens. “Luna! That’s what we’ll call you.”

They put their hand on top of your head. “Our little Earthling…let’s get you introduced to the rest of the group and get you dressed for tonight.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait…I’m starting tonight?”

“Do you have something better to do?” They wait for a reply, to which you give none. “Then follow me.”

You follow Hange through the winding, narrow hall as they open a non-descript door.

“This is where the girls get changed.”

They open the door, gesturing for you to enter. Steel lockers are built around the perimeter of the room, with dressing tables and mirrors on the other side. Around you are women in various stages of undress: some have just arrived and are in their street clothes, others are walking around in their underwear, and all of them stop at some point to look you up and down. You knew you were going to stand out when you arrived in Neo Tokyo, but in the cruel, fluorescent lighting, it’s blazingly obvious. Most of the women around you have adorned their bodies with tattoos, the ink under their skin glowing brightly, making some of the images seem to move. Others have augmented their body: shining metallic arms and legs, hair and skin in every color of the rainbow…

All of it is nothing less than extraordinary.

There’s nothing extraordinary about your appearance. Your body doesn’t have a single tattoo or piercing. Your skin, eye, and hair color are ones that you were born with; your ‘human-ness’ is clearly on display for all to see.

“Presenting the hostesses of Club Azure!” The women go about their business as Hange walks you around the room. “You’ll find I’ve curated a diverse group of females who cater to every kind of taste….alien, android, and humanoid. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

One woman, putting on makeup, scoffs at the statement. “And just who have you wrangled to work here now, Hange?” She turns around to look at you, her nose scrunching up and her lips turning downward in a judgmental frown. “Or should I say, what..”

“Now, now, Ymir, be nice. Everyone!” Hange claps their hands, “Luna’s just arrived from Earth and I need you all to play nice and show her the ropes. Historia! Find her a dress that’ll fit and let her shadow you tonight.”

A petite woman with golden, glittering hair and bright, shining blue eyes turns around. White tattoo ink glows under her skin, glittering like diamonds. “Of course.” She takes your hand. “Come with me, Luna.”

She leads you to a locker on the far end of the room and presses in a code. It opens with a clink. “This was Nanaba’s locker. I figure you and she are about the same size.” She pulls out a few items and holds them against your body.

“Was? Did she leave without taking her stuff?”

Historia looks away, biting her bottom lip. Apparently your question hit a nerve. “We’re not really sure, actually. She just…disappeared after work one morning, two weeks ago. We never saw her again.”

“You’re leaving out key information, Historia,” Ymir butts in, “she should have never started fucking that guy in the Ackerman clan. That got her killed, I have no doubt.”

“Ackerman clan?”

“Ymir…hush!” Historia nudges Ymir and attempts to push her away, to no success.

“You mean, Hange didn’t tell you? We are employees of Club Azure, but this club is “protected” by the Ackerman Clan, one of the most powerful yakuza clans in Neo Tokyo. Hange might own the place, but they pull the strings. Getting involved with them is bad news.” She gives you a foreboding look. “If you see them, keep your distance.”

“Are they in here often?”

“Of course they are. They’re always skulking around, checking in on their products.”

Historia clicks her tongue, a warning to Ymir. “They’re not that bad. Just smile, be polite, and pour their drinks and you won’t have any problems with them.” Ignoring Ymir's eye roll, she pulls out a dress and hands it to you. “Here, try this on.”

You start taking your clothes off, and the women around you stop and stare. Ymir laughs, and you notice that each of her teeth have been shaped to a sharp point.

“You’re just as normal as normal can be, aren’t you? Not a single augmentation.” She walks around you as you stand there, naked and bare as their eyes judge you. “All your…parts are…real?” she asks, lifting up your arm.

You pull away and grip the dress closer to you. “Augmentations are rare and expensive on earth.”

Ymir smirks and her carnivorous teeth flash. “Well…everybody has a kink. I’m sure someone will be interested in you.”

“Ymir, that’s enough!” Historia huffs, pushing the tall, freckled woman away. By then, you’ve shimmied into the garment Historia chose for you. The tight, red dress fits your form perfectly, falling off the shoulders and highlighting your collarbone and breasts. It’s long, but a slit cuts all the way up the top of your thigh. You’ve never worn anything so elegant.

Historia looks you up and down. “A little tight, but all the better.” She pulls you over to a dressing table. “Now for the finishing touches.” She takes out some makeup and starts applying powders and creams to your face. “Hange probably wants to keep you as human as possible, so we’ll keep it simple.”

Her version of simple was very different from what you were imagining, as she adorns your cheeks with pink blush and your lips with a dark red lipstick. Your hair cascades in waves across your shoulders.

When you look in the mirror you barely recognize yourself.

“Is that me?” you ask, touching your radiant skin.

“I just enhanced what you already have. Hopefully, it’ll be good enough.” She stands and gives you another once-over, crossing her arms. “You’re still gonna stand out, but surely someone will be interested in you.”

Ymir walks by and chuckles. “This is gonna be interesting.” You scowl at her while she smiles smugly. “See you two out there,” she says, before sauntering away.

Historia takes you by the hand and leads you down a dark hall. Music is already reverberating through the walls and you can hear voices and laughter amidst the clink of glasses, which amplifies as she opens the door.

The bar is dimly lit, illuminated by a ceiling with an array of twinkling lights meant to look like the night sky. There are tables and booths with plush upholstery, some meant for larger groups while others are more private and intimate. A small stage is set up in the corner with a holographic band playing, and on the opposite end of the room, a long drink bar manned by Hange and another bartender.

And dispersed throughout are men, some young, some old, but all well-dressed, sitting and drinking with a hostess or two.

“At a hostess bar, it’s not our bodies that are for sale, but our time and attention,” Historia says, leading you through the room. “They can request a certain girl, but otherwise, we are partnered with them as they come in.”

The two of you end up at the bar, where Historia gestures for you to sit. “For the time that they’re here, it’s our job to make the guest feel like they are wanted and important - we laugh at all their stupid jokes, listen to their problems at work or at home, or just help them to get their mind off things with conversation.”

Your eyes dart from table to table, taking note of the hostesses pouring drinks, laughing and leaning into their guests, playing drinking games, or having lively talks. One girl gets up and walks over to the stage, singing as the band plays a popular song that everyone at the table seems to know.

“And that’s it?” you ask. “There’s not…more…that goes on between the guest and the hostess?”

“You mean sex?” Historia leans her chin on her hand. “Hange forbids us having sexual relationships with our guests.” Her eyes dart over to Hange as they put some drinks on a tray. “Isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely correct, my beautiful turtle dove,” they reply. “Prostitution can be procured at other clubs, but not at my fine establishment. You can flirt, make eyes, touch…” their bright eyes suddenly become serious, “but no sex.”

A wave of relief washes over you when you hear this. It’s overwhelming enough to know that you’ll have men ogling you, expecting entertainment and companionship. At least that’s all it’s expected to be.

While Hange busies themself with making another cocktail, Historia leans toward you and whispers, “It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen, though.”

That doesn’t surprise you; if a hostess’ whole job is to flirt all night long, at some point the lines must get blurred with certain customers. And you can probably make a substantial bit of extra money in taking a relationship beyond the confines of this club.

But that’s not why you’re here.

Hange pushes a tray of glasses and a bottle of alcohol across the bar to the two of you. “Ok, ladies, it’s showtime. Take these drinks over to table 12.”

Historia glances over to the table before taking the tray. “Ugh, it’s Lovof. Haven’t seen him here for a while.”

“Who’s Lovof?”

“A city councilman. We get a lot of politicians here.”

The two of you make your way to the table where Lobov is sitting with two other men. You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress, feeling more nervous the closer you get.

“Just smile and pour drinks. I’ll take care of the rest,” Historia whispers, just before making it to the table. “Lobov! It’s been so long, I thought you’d forgotten about us!”

She slides into the booth next to Lobov, a true thing of beauty as she smiles and bats her big, blue eyes. Her skin sparkles even more under the dimmed lighting, making her look like a true angel.

You slide in on the opposite side, sitting next to Lovof’s colleagues, but neither of them pay any attention to you as Historia takes the bottle from its chilled container and pours the golden liquid into a sparkling glass. It’s only until Historia gestures to you that they look your way, a curious look on each of their faces.

“And this is Luna.” Historia’s voice is sweet and soft, matching her angelic persona. “It’s her first night, so I’m showing her how to be a good hostess.”

“Well then, she’s learning from the very best,” Lobov says, his snake-like eyes slinking from Historia to look you over.

One of the men squints, then takes off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. “This plain-looking thing? Where in the galaxy did you find her?” he comments with a crude chuckle before turning away.

They’re bored with you already.

Get it together.

Don’t fuck this up.

You swallow hard, then take the bottle from Historia and pour a drink for the two unimpressed men.

Smile. Put on the mask.

“The story of why I’m not augmented is quite a tale,” your voice drips with flirtatious intrigue, “but perhaps it’s a tale better left for our second bottle, when I’m a little less nervous.”

The man next to you raises an eyebrow as you raise your glass. “In the meantime, I want to know everything there is to know about you fine gentlemen.” You smile, eyes sparkling in such a way that they almost rival Historia’s. “Kanpai.”

Lovof’s looks of confusion change to amusement as he joins you in raising his glass, the rest reflecting his actions.

“Kanpai!” the table responds.

By the third bottle, everyone is buzzed and relaxed. The alcohol coursing through you is helping you to feel less nervous, and has given you a confidence you’d only pretended to have before. The man next to you, Gelgar, has completely forgotten his other colleagues and is focused solely on you, while the other two are enraptured by Historia.

The attention makes you uncomfortable, everything within you wanting to escape this man’s gaze. But this is your job, you remind yourself.

You’re not the same person you were on Earth.

So you mirror your fellow hostess, pouring their drinks and leaning forward as they tell you about an upcoming election. Most of the time you have no idea what they're talking about, but you smile and nod, feigning to be enraptured by their words.

You’re good at pretending. You’ve been doing it your whole life.

There’s a glazed look in the men’s eyes and Historia shoots you a glance that tells you it’s time for them to call it a night. As the two of you escort them out of the bar, Lovof suddenly stops, turning to you.

“My darling, you never told us - why are you not augmented?”

Ah. You forgot you’d mentioned that.

“Well…” you begin as you’re walking with them out of the club, “...my father was the leader of a cult and my mother was one of his many wives. It was commanded that his children never be augmented, as doing so would be an affront to God, who made the body. No needle or knife must ever blemish my skin.”

A smile crawls across his face. “Intriguing. Absolutely intriguing…” You feel his eyes rove over your body in a way that feels violating. “I’d like to drink with you again, Luna.”

“She would be honored.,” Historia says, placing her hand on your back and guiding you to bow with her. “Please come visit us again soon.”

You both deeply bow then wave as the trio drunkenly walk to the black vehicle that pulled up for them. Only until they are out of view do you both turn away.

Historia takes your arm. “That story…is it really true?”

“Does it matter?”

Historia lets out an angelic laugh. “I think you’re going to do just fine here.” She walks arm-in-arm with you back into the bar. “You did well for your first time, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. I was nervous the entire time.” You allow yourself to smile - the first real smile you’ve had all night.

Historia’s words of praise flow through you as freely as the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve already consumed, both of them giving you courage as you stroll back into your new workplace.

This isn’t too bad, you think to yourself.

You can do this.

You carry a newfound boldness as you and Historia walk up to Hange, who is waiting at the door. There’s a concerned, serious look in their eyes, much different from the happy, go-lucky persona you’d initially met.

Hange pulls you both aside. “They’re back, Historia, and causing a ruckus. I’m sorry to do this to you and Luna, but will you two help with damage control for a few minutes while I call for some backup?” They press a small silver button on the back of their ear and walk away, not even waiting for a response. As if either of you had a choice in the matter.

You must have been too focused on your table’s patrons to realize the growing noisiness of the table in the center of the club. Now, it’s hard to notice anything else.

Even from across the room, you can sense the chaotic energy of the group, a stark difference from the customers you’d just said goodbye to. The men are much younger than Lovof and his associates, their tacky suits and bright hair colors a stark contrast to the politicians you’d just entertained. They slap the table and yell curse words at each other, earning sideway glances from the others surrounding them. Empty bottles of alcohol litter their table; one of the men tries to milk the last few drops from one, but when there’s nothing left, he frowns.

“Oi! Another bottle! Make that two!” he curls his lip in disgust as he looks at his comrades slumped around the table. “This place has the shittiest service.”

Your newfound boldness shrinks with each step to their table.

“We just need to get them to settle down and then get them to leave,” Historia whispers, handing you a bottle. “Be polite, but don’t let them manhandle you.”

You put the mask back on, smiling as you and Historia both sit on either side of the booth.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Historia says, her voice still ringing calm and clear.

An arm immediately wraps around your shoulders the second you sit down, pulling you forcefully into him.

“Look at this - two more! We must be getting the V.I.P. treatment today, boys,” a man with long brown hair and green eyes shouts over the rest of the crowd.

Ever the essence of politeness, Historia pours the alcohol, a superficial smile never leaving her face.

“It’s our honor to serve you here at Club Azure,” is her meek reply.

The two other hostesses copy Historia, just as you had done earlier, but behind their smiles are eyes that want to escape the situation as soon as possible. Although this is your first night and you still have much to learn, something feels different about this group of men; they are loud and arrogant, and their way of speaking is crude. It’s as if their entire goal is to make everyone uncomfortable. They continue to demand more alcohol and paw at the hostesses, downing bottle after bottle, their appetites insatiable.

All the while, the brunette man continues to clutch at you, his grip tight on your shoulder, keeping you from moving one inch. His suit reeks of alcohol and tobacco, and his breath is even worse when he finally decides to turn and speak to you.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

He’s young, and there’s a wildness in his eyes, warning you to stay on his good side.

You attempt to shift away from him, but his arm is stronger than it looks. So you put on the mask and smile faintly. “I’m new. The name’s Luna.”

Seeming to be the ringleader of the group, you hope that light conversation will keep him preoccupied enough for help to arrive.

Whatever help that may be.

“Lunaaaaa…” he repeats, his tone heavy and foreboding. “You’re a non-aug.” He shifts his attention back to the other men at the table. “Look at this - we got ourselves a non-aug.”

You assume that means you’re not augmented. Will it be an intriguing curiosity, as it was in Lovof’s case?

Or something far worse?

The men hoot and holler words that you aren’t familiar with, but you don’t need to be fluent in the Martian dialect to know the meanings of their slurs.

The other women look at you, brows knit, bodies frozen, each hesitant to intercede.

“Tell me, Luna,” his green eyes darken, moving down your body and stopping at the bare leg peeking out of the high slit of your dress, “is every part of you real?”

His grip on your shoulder grows even tighter as his free hand moves up your thigh. “Let’s find out, hm?”

Every fiber of your being is screaming to escape this man’s clutches. Your eyes flash to Historia, who attempts to stand up and walk to you, but is forced back down by one of the men. She sends you a helpless expression that even she is powerless to help you.

But you refuse to be powerless. Not ever again.

So you meet the man’s lustful gaze, and slap him hard across the face.

A look of shock sweeps over him, his pride hurt more than the sting in his cheek.

“Don’t you touch me,” comes your warning, willing your body and voice not to shake.

Time freezes for a moment, not a single person moving a muscle, until -

– the back of his hand cracks against your cheekbone.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what just happened, but before you can react, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look into his eyes.

“Bitch.” He squeezes tighter. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?” you manage to reply, despite the forceful grip on your cheeks.

His eyes fill with rage, getting even greener. “Nobody fucks with the Jaeger clan.”

“Oi.”

You hear a voice behind the two of you, cold as steel.

“Did you hear the lady? Hands off.”

You can’t move your head to see who’s talking, but your assailant does. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’s about to fuck with the Jaeger clan.”

Suddenly a hand grabs the back of the man’s collar and yanks him up, his body flying over the back of the booth and into another table. There are a few screams but then the club goes silent as all eyes watch what’s transpiring.

Finally free, you look behind you to see a man in a navy blue suit. He walks closer to the other man, who’s scrambling up from the floor. There’s an incredible size difference between the two; this man in the blue suit is much shorter than the men that are now surrounding him, but it doesn’t seem to faze him in the least.

Green eyes flash and the three other henchmen barrel towards the shorter man. It only takes a few seconds for two of them to be sprawled on the ground, barely conscious. The third grabs the lapels of his dark blue suit, but a hard knee to his groin has him joining his compatriots on the floor.

“Bastard..”

Now the only one standing, the brunette moves his hand toward the inner pocket of his jacket.

Something flashes into the hand of the smaller man. It seems to be a knife of some kind.

How did it appear so quickly?

“You pull out that piece and it’ll be the last thing your hand ever does,” the shorter man warns, his eyes laser-focused.

The other three men scurry off the floor and towards the club’s exit, but not before one of them grabs his friend by the shoulder. “Come on Eren, let’s get out of here. Your brother’s gonna kill us if this gets worse.”

The tall brunette man smirks then backs away with his hands up, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him.

“This isn’t over.” His eyes then flit to you as he straightens his suit jacket. “Fucking bitch,” he spits, before turning to leave.

It’s as if the whole club takes a collective sigh once the four men are finally gone. Historia is immediately at your side.

“Oh my god, Luna, are you alright? I’m so sorry..”

You can hear her words and feel her gentle hands touching your face, but all your attention is on the man standing before you. He buttons his suit jacket and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back the few strands that came loose during the scuffle.

“Thank you so much, um…” your words hang in the air, waiting for a name.

His steel blue eyes look into yours - not at your body, not at the bruise you’re sure is growing by the second - but deep into your eyes, before looking away.

It’s the first time you’ve felt someone look at you like you’re a person, not some oddity.

“Levi,” he finally answers in a low, cool voice. “And don’t thank me for doing my job.”

Before you can say more, he’s turned his back, disappearing into the darkness of the club.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Glossary of terms:

Yakuza - Japanese mafia

Kanpai - cheers!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

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mandos-mind-trick · 8 months

Text

Heat of the Moment

Summary: It was supposed to be an easy mission, just a simple insurrection on a primitive planet. Nothing ever goes as planned, and Clone Force 99's civilian member finds herself in a sticky situation.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: Sex pollen, medical inaccuracies, dub-con because sex pollen, hidden feelings, ROUGH sex, angst, biting, scratching, brief mentions of blood, excessive use of the word pussy, manhandling, injuries, confession of feelings, oral, smelling, unprotected sex, creampies galore, it's really rough guys please use caution

A/N: All hail the mighty sex pollen trope. I am here with another sex pollen fic that sort of got away from me. I didn't plan on it being this long but I have been rather long winded recently. Please heed the warnings since this is pretty intense and rough and yeah. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

It happens suddenly.

You’re crouched behind a rock, taking cover as you fire at droids. It was nothing more than an insurrection on a relatively primordial planet. Squashing insurrections was becoming your specialty.

You were entirely focused on taking out droids when you felt the sudden prick on your neck. It was hardly more than a sting, like that of a bug, but enough to draw your attention from the fight. You reach up, fingers meeting something soft like feathers. You tug on it, feeling a small pinch as it’s tugged from your skin. You lean against the rock you had been taking cover behind, staring down at the brightly colored dart resting in your palm.

Someone shot you with a dart. Your eyes scan the trees, looking for any sign of who could have shot you, but there’s nothing. No sign of anyone.

Your arm flies up out of instinct, covering your face as sparks erupt right over your head. A droid falls at your side with a clang, Hunter sheathing his knife. You blink up at him, suddenly remembering you’re in the middle of a fight. You feel a bit like your brain is moving in slow motion, your fingers beginning to tingle.

You blink as Hunter squats down next to you. He’s been speaking to you, but you haven’t been listening. His fingers close around yours, pulling your hand closer to him. His hands are warm, practically pulsing against your tingling fingertips. You’re still holding the dart in your palm, the bright plumage a stark contrast to your black glove.

“Did this hit you?” He asks, taking the dart from your hand.

You nod slowly, forcing your mouth closed. You hadn’t even realized it was hanging open.

“Tech, do you know what it is?” Hunter asks, handing the dart off to Tech.

You turn to look up at Tech. When had he arrived? You glance around, the other three standing around you. Was the fight over? When had they gotten here?

Tech lowers his visor, studying the dart. “It will be difficult to discern.” He says, turning the dart in his hands. “There is not much knowledge on the inhabitants of this planet, or its native flora. I will have to do further testing to be certain.” Tech pockets the dart before kneeling down in front of you. “Are you experiencing any symptoms?”

You stare at the visor, looking past it to his eyes. Gloved hands cup your face, tugging lightly at the skin below your eyes. You flinch under the touch, your skin tingling under the rough fabric of his gloves.

“Slight dilation of the pupils. Body temperature is just higher than normal.” Tech says, studying your face.

“‘M fine.” You murmur, suddenly snapping to the present.

“Delayed cognitive processing.” Tech pulls away from you, your skin itching where his hands had been. “That could be concerning.”

Hunter pushes himself to stand and you use the rock behind you to help get your feet under you. Your legs are twitching, feeling a bit like jelly as you attempt to steady yourself. “Tech, Echo, take her back to the ship. See if you can figure out what was on that dart. The rest of us will scan the area. Whoever shot her couldn’t have gotten far on foot.”

You push yourself off the rock, wavering for just a moment before you steady yourself. It feels as if you’re moving in slow motion, each step taking every ounce of effort to move your feet forward.

The trek back to the Marauder is slow going.

Tech’s fingers are moving at light speed on his datapad, head down as you follow the trail back to the Marauder. Echo walks next to you, watching you cautiously. You’ve broken out in a sweat, your blacks sticking to your back under your light armor. It’s uncomfortable, the fabric almost unbearable as it chafes your skin. You’re not sure if it’s the heat blooming under your skin, or the unbearable feeling of the fabric, but you want to pull your clothes off.

You stumble to a stop as Echo grabs your arm. You had been undoing the clasps of your armor without even realizing it. You frown, dragging a hand across your forehead to wipe the sweat off. “‘M hot.” You murmur.

“We’ll never make it at this speed.” Echo says. “She’s going to drop before we even get there.”

Tech pockets his datapad and suddenly your world is spinning. You nearly black out at the sudden movement, your head falling limply against a plastoid-covered shoulder.

“Her temperature has spiked.” His voice rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. “The sooner we can reach the Marauder, the sooner we can combat her symptoms.”

The world sways as Tech carries you back to the Marauder. The trip takes half the time it would have had you still been walking. Echo had been right, you likely wouldn’t have made it. You’re hot and exhausted even being carried.

The air doesn’t feel any cooler in the Marauder as Tech sits you in a chair. Your head is swimming, fingers fumbling to remove your armor. You can’t stand it. It’s heavy and it’s pressing your blacks tighter against your skin. Echo helps you remove each piece, setting it out of the way as he runs a scan. Tech works on scanning the dart, trying to figure out what it was coated with to see how best to help you.

Echo straps a monitor to your arm, your vision still swimming as you try to focus on his helmet. You still feel like the world is moving in slow motion, even just lifting your hand feels like it’s taking every ounce of effort.

“Hmm,” Tech hums, staring at the screen. “There’s no record of any of the compounds pulled from the dart. I’ll need to run a further analysis to see if I can break down their individual components.”

“Well, whatever you have to do, do it fast.” Echo says. “Her heart rate is spiking again.”

Tech turns to look at you, adjusting his goggles. “We may need to consider a medical center. They will have the resources to keep her stable.”

You swallow thickly. Even in your half delirious state, you know that what Tech is suggesting isn’t coming lightly. You could deteriorate faster than he can figure out what was unwittingly injected into your body. And if there was no cure...a medical center would be better prepared to search for one and keep you alive while they did it.

Heat begins blooming under your skin once more as you sit and wait, your vision swimming. The monitor on your arm begins to beep rapidly, your hands and feet starting to tingle. You feel a bit like you’re floating, like your brain is leaving your body behind.

“...get back to the ship...condition deteriorating...” Tech’s voice fades into the background, your eyes fluttering shut.

***

There’s a hand on your face when you snap back into reality. The sweat sliding down your temples is uncomfortable, practically burning your skin. The rough fabric of the glove is too much and not enough at the same time. You blink up at the helmet hovering in front of your face.

“...bacta’s working...waking up...”

The voices float in and out around you. You feel hot, hotter than you had been when you passed out. Your blacks are almost unbearable, between the heat trapped under them from your skin and the intense sensation of the fabric against your skin, you’re ready to strip down right there.

Hands grasp yours, stilling their movements.

You had been pulling your blacks off, the top half undone and untucked from the bottoms. You weakly try to pull your hands free, but Hunter’s grip on you is tight. He’s breathing heavily, the sound of his breaths just barely audible through his helmet. You can feel the subtle vibration in the seat under you as the Marauder hurtles through hyperspace.

“‘M hot.” You whine, still trying to fight Hunter’s grasp on you.

“I know.” He says, voice raspy through his helmet. “Your fever’s going down.” He slowly releases your hands and they fall limply to your sides again. He turns away from you to face Tech at the other console. “Are you any closer?” His tone is sharp, shoulders tense. Even in your delirious state you can tell he’s on edge.

You’ve spent a lot of time staring at Hunter. You could read him like a novel, far better than you could read the others. He had been one of the most welcoming of the group when you had been forced to join, though finding your place among them had taken some time. They’ve been together their whole lives and suddenly someone else is being thrown into the mix, a nat-born and a woman to boot. You had spent a lot of time studying him, watching him even when you weren’t in the middle of a battle. How easily he moves, how graceful he is, how aware of everything he is. The dexterity of his fingers and how easily he can wield a knife.

You may have developed some feelings for your Sergeant, but you would never admit it. He’s never shown any interest in that at all, so you would hold your peace. You’d suffer in silence, stuck doing nothing but fantasizing when everyone else was asleep.

A wave of heat burns through your body, making you wince. You’re uncomfortable, a cramping sensation beginning in your lower abdomen. You wince, hissing out a breath as you curl in on yourself.

“You alright?” Echo asks, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Hurts.” You gasp out, tensing your whole body as you wait for the cramping to stop.

Sweat is pooling in your underwear and between your legs, the fabric of your blacks beginning to chafe uncomfortably. You desperately want to be naked. Anything to relieve some of the sensation.

You let out a shaky breath as the sensation begins to subside, but now there’s a slight pulsing between your legs.

“You’re developing new symptoms.” Tech says, staring at you. “What did it feel like?”

“Cramping.” You say, pushing your hands into the spot right above your pelvis where you had felt it. “Here.”

Tech stares at you contemplatively for a moment before he spins back around to the console, typing away rapidly.

You shift in your seat, gasping quietly as your thighs press together. Your pussy is throbbing, underwear no longer damp from just sweat anymore. You should tell Tech about this development as well, but you’re afraid to. How do you bring something like that up to someone who was essentially your coworker, much less in a room full of your other coworkers?

Oh yeah, by the way, I’m also feeling very horny. That wouldn’t be an awkward conversation at all.

Your blacks continue to chafe your skin, sticking in sweaty places and rubbing others. You can’t stand it. It’s all too much, every sensation against your body too much. “Kriff it.” You breathe, tugging the top of your blacks off. “I can’t.”

The soaked fabric hits the floor with a plop, leaving you in nothing but your breastband. Echo quickly straightens up, turning his gaze to the back of the ship. Wrecker clears his throat, turning his back to you very quickly. You’ve all seen each other in various states of undress before. It wasn’t like this was that kind of situation. You were potentially dying.

If you’re going to die, you’re going to do it comfortably, even if that comes at the expense of your poor squadmates.

Even your breastband is almost too much, nipples hard and poking at the thick fabric. Every breath is like torture, every small sensation only adding to the throbbing between your legs. Even the vibration of the seat, something you normally didn’t even notice, is almost too much.

“Kriff,” Hunter breathes, popping his helmet off. His forehead is beading with sweat under the bandana, strands of hair sticking to his face and neck.

“You alright, Hunter?” Wrecker asks, watching his sergeant with rapt attention. Everyone is staring at him now, not just you.

“No!” He snaps, his helmet hitting the floor with a clang. “I can smell it! I can smell her!” He points at you.

The entire ship falls silent, no one moving for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about the fact Hunter could probably smell you. He’d likely known before you had how aroused you were becoming. The thought has your face flushing. You’d pictured him many times burying his face in your pussy, breathing in your scent from its source, praising you on how good you smell, how good you taste.

The thoughts have your pussy throbbing even more.

Tech stands from the console, turning to Echo, speaking quietly despite the fact Hunter could still hear him. “Take her into the cockpit and seal the door. Don’t open it, no matter what you hear.”

Echo nods, scooping you into his arms before carrying you into the cockpit. His scomp is cold against your back, but it feels good, like a brief respite from the fire burning beneath your skin. He sits you down in the copilot’s seat before he locks the door, sealing you off from the others.

He takes a seat in the pilot’s chair, checking the navigation. You’re still a few hours out from the nearest medical center.

Are you going to make it that long?

“I have a theory.” Tech’s voice comes through the comm, drawing your attention from your thoughts. “I’ve managed to identify one of the chemical agents found on the dart. The others are a mix of pollen from plants native to the planet. It appears to be causing an excessive release of estrogen from the hypothalamus.”

“What does that mean?” Hunter’s voice is faint through the comms, but you can still hear the strain in it.

“She’s experiencing a state of hyper-arousal. As more and more estrogen is released, her state of arousal continues to increase. That is why her heart rate and temperature continue to spike, and why she is in such a state of discomfort.” Tech states, far too calmly for the situation.

“What do we do?” Wrecker asks.

“She will die, if the effects are not reversed. She will suffer brain damage if her body temperature continues to rise, and the prolonged tachycardia will cause heart failure.” Tech says.

You gulp, your skin starting to prickle. So you are dying. Dying from horniness.

“Bacta will not work, so long as her hypothalamus is in a state of dysfunction. It can lessen the fever and help slow her heart rate, but it will only be effective for so long.” Tech continues. “There is no known remedy, since this compound has been entirely unknown to science until now.”

“Why would they do this?” Hunter asks, his voice louder. You can hear the agitation in his tone. “Why would they give her something like this?”

“I am uncertain.” Tech answers. “A possible explanation is this is a common aphrodisiac used for mating purposes. The natives of the planet may be more tolerant to the compound. Perhaps they were unwelcoming of both us and the droids and this was their only means of protecting themselves.”

“And she’s the easiest target since she doesn’t wear a helmet.” Crosshair says.

“Precisely.” Tech says. “It also explains why you are being affected as well. Beyond being able to sense her arousal, it is likely the compound is causing her to release a pheromone that is too faint for us to sense. But for someone with heightened senses...”

“Kriff.” Hunter curses, his voice sounding strained. “What do we do? How do we fix it?”

“It is possible a release of other chemicals may slow the hypothalamus’ excretion of estrogen enough to stave off the symptoms until we can reach a medical center.” Tech says.

“How do we do that?” Hunter asks.

“An orgasm would be the simplest way.” Tech answers.

Your cheeks burn again. Hearing Tech speak so lewdly is strange to you. None of them had ever even made jokes, much less shown any interest. It had been jarring compared to other similar situations you’ve been in. Five men alone on a ship with one woman and not even one whistle or comment or passing of the hand.

“Kriff it.” You breathe, tugging your pants off. Echo quickly focuses his gaze out the viewport as you stand, moving to the back of the cockpit. “Just...don’t turn around.” You say, laying yourself out on the floor.

The metal is cold against your skin, offering a respite to the heat for a moment. You slip a hand in your underwear, peeling it from your soaked pussy. You sigh quietly as you pass your fingers over your clit, toes curling in response to finally giving your desperate pussy some attention.

You bite your lip to keep quiet for Echo’s sake as you slowly work yourself up. Your legs start to shake, that cramping feeling starting to build in your stomach once more and you huff out a sigh. You withdraw your hand as the pleasure fades, taken over by the intense cramping. Fluid soaks your panties as your pussy begins to throb even more. You force a hand under the fabric once more, desperately rubbing at your clit but you can’t quite reach the peak. No matter how badly your pussy throbs for attention, you cannot bring yourself to cum.

You huff out another sigh, pushing yourself to stand. There’s a wet spot on the floor in the shape of your body, but you don’t give it a second glance. You’re so far past modesty at this point. You lean over Echo, hitting the button for the comms.

“It’s not working.” Your voice has a bite to it, not unlike Hunter’s had. “I can’t...finish.”

“Hunter has been unsuccessful as well.” Tech says.

A thought crosses your mind. Heat pools in your stomach, another cramp starting to form. Your skin tingles, heat radiating from you so hot you’re sure Echo can feel it. You feel dizzy, the exertion of trying to make yourself cum hitting you suddenly and your knees buckle. You sink to the floor, curling in on yourself. Your heart is pounding in your chest, terrifying you that it might stop at any moment.

“Let him fuck me.” You murmur, breathing through the intense cramping and the throbbing in your pussy.

“What?” Echo glances down at you.

“Let him fuck me!” You cry, looking up at him with teary eyes. “It’s the only way we can both get help right now. Tech said it’s probably used for mating. I don’t think we can fix it any other way.”

The ship is silent except for the quiet hum of the engine. Tears of exhaustion and pain blur your vision. You’re desperate, legs shaking from the intense throbbing of your pussy and the cramping in your stomach. You just want to feel normal again.

“Mesh’la.” Hunter’s deep voice crackles through the comms. He’s called you that before a couple times. You don’t know what it means. None of them will tell you. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m already hurting.” You sob, tears burning as they slide down your cheeks. “Kriff, it hurts so much!” Your sob cuts off in a cry as another wave of heat and pain rolls through your body. “Please, Hunter. I don’t want to die.”

The comms pick up quiet cursing and shuffling on the other side before they go quiet. You push yourself to stand, using the chairs and the wall for support as you move to the door, unlocking the cockpit. You step out on shaky legs, beads of arousal sliding down the insides of your thighs, mixing with the sweat. Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech file silently into the cockpit, the door sliding closed behind you.

You’re left standing alone, Hunter on the opposite end of the ship. He’s ditched his armor leaving him in nothing but his blacks, the bottoms half hanging open. His shoulders are tense and squared, brows furrowed as he stares at you.

“Hunter,” Your voice wavers, tears still pricking your vision. “I need you to know something before we do this.”

This isn't how you wanted to tell him, how you wanted this to play out. You wanted him to come to you, to admit any feelings he might have, even if they’re just lust. You would never force yourself on him, reveal feelings you weren’t sure would be reciprocated. You would suffer in silence if it meant keeping the integrity of the team intact.

His hands curl into fists as you take a step closer, nostrils flaring. You can only imagine what you smell like to him right now. He’s not in his right mind. He would have avoided your gaze, averted his from your almost naked body. Instead his eyes trail your form, watching one of the beads of arousal or sweat slide down to your knee.

“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.” You continue, ignoring the way his gaze starts to turn almost predatory, his eyes going almost black. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. I didn’t want things to end up being awkward.” You sniffle, continuing to approach him slowly. “I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“Kriff, mesh’la.” He breathes, staring at you. He takes a deep breath, eyes screwing closed as he practically shudders. “I know. I’ve known for a while. Your heart rate...the arousal.” He swallows thickly. “I could sense it all. I-I’m your sergeant. I’m not supposed to take advantage of you like that.”

“Is it really taking advantage of someone that wants it too?” Your voice shakes, more tears sliding down your cheeks.

Another wave of heat rolls beneath your skin, making you cramp. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart has been pumping. You’re scared. You cry out from the pain, knees buckling as you begin to fall forward.

You don’t hit the floor.

Arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against a sturdy chest. A groan rumbles through your body, Hunter’s face pressing into your neck. He inhales deeply, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat-soaked skin. He sighs out a long breath, making you shiver. His hands smooth up your back, his skin bare and rough against yours.

You let out a whine as he mouths at your throat, legs still shaking. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold out. You’re starting to get dizzy again, the bacta wearing off as your fever comes back full force.

“Please.” You beg, beginning to go limp against him. “Make it stop. Make it better.”

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you let out a weak whimper at the sensation. “Gonna make you feel good.” He groans, voice rough and strained. He’s suffering almost as much as you are. “Could smell you as soon as I got on board.”

He guides you onto the floor of the ship, letting you lay there limply. You feel sick again, not unlike how you had felt when you had first been shot with the dart. Your pussy is still throbbing, desperate for any sort of relief, but you’re beginning to feel it in the rest of your body again. You’re afraid. If this doesn't work...you may not come out on the other side.

Hunter slips his hands around your back, practically ripping your breastband in an attempt to get it off. Your nipples pebble in the cool air in the ship, your breasts feeling heavy. Hunters thumbs tease your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You whimper, the pain beginning to ease as his hands tease you, every touch like electricity on your heated skin.

He curses, sliding his hands down your sides. You shift your hips what little you can, helping him rid you of your panties. They land with a wet plop somewhere behind you, your legs spreading wide open for him. You’re slick and soaked, your pussy throbbing for him. His hands slide down your thighs, keeping your legs parted so far it’s almost painful but you don’t care.

He leans down, breath fanning across the damp skin before he presses his face against your pussy, inhaling deeply. He lets go of your thighs, letting them close around his head as he stays there, face buried in your pussy as he breathes you in. You lift your head as much as you can, staring at him as he lays there, eyes closed in bliss. Your cheeks warm, having imagined this moment several times.

Those fantasies could never compare to it actually happening.

You let out a quiet sound as his eyes open, boring into yours. His gaze is primal and clouded with lust as he stares at you, shifting his head just enough that he can drag his tongue through your folds.

Your fingers could never make you feel the way he does, not even when you had tried to get yourself off in the cockpit. You could cry from the pleasure as he drags his tongue through your folds, tasting the wetness your body has been producing in desperate need for someone to touch you.

It’s obscene the way his tongue parts your lips, dragging from your hole to the top where he flicks it across your clit. You could cum just like this, just from watching him lick you. His gaze stays locked with yours as his hands slip under your ass, lifting your hips just slightly as he lowers his head, tracing your lips with his tongue before he sinks it into your pussy.

His nose presses against your clit as he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can, your pussy fluttering around him in relief of finally having something inside you. His growl vibrates through your entire body, your hips shifting against his face. You gasp at the sensation of his nose dragging across your clit, shifting your hips again.

He continues to fuck you with his tongue as you ride his face, your upper body falling limp against the floor. It’s not enough, not nearly enough to make you cum, but it’s the best you’ve felt since you got hit with the dart.

“Please, Hunter.” You beg, continuing to grind desperately on his face. “Please, I need you inside me.”

He groans, lifting his face from your pussy. It’s shining with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Taste so good.” His voice is deep and rough from his own need. “Such a sweet little pussy.”

Your fingers pluck at your nipples as he strips out of his blacks, desperate to keep any sort of sensation going to abate the pain you know is waiting if you stop. You stare unabashedly at his hard cock as it's revealed to you. He’s not very long, but what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth. You lick your lips, legs splaying open in invitation.

You need him inside you now.

He slides back in between your legs, meeting no resistance as he slides into you. You’ve been waiting for this moment, desperate for it for so long now. He folds his body over yours as he fills your needy pussy, the sensation of his sweaty skin against yours too much and not enough at the same time. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, so tight there’s almost no space between your bodies. You want to devour him, to pull him completely inside you so you’re one being.

Your mind feels hazy as he begins to move, fucking into you with short, sharp thrusts. He buries his face in your neck as he fucks you, teeth sinking into your skin. It’s animalistic, the sounds he’s making, the wild way he’s fucking into you. You can do nothing but wrap yourself around him and hold on, letting him take what he needs from you, letting him ease the ache within you.

Your vision nearly goes white as you’re thrown into your first orgasm, walls clamping down so tightly around him his rhythm stutters, cock pulsing inside you as you spasm around him. Your nails dig into his skin, drawing blood as white hot pleasure burns through you.

It burns hotter than the fever that had been plaguing you, hotter than the drug could ever make you feel. You can’t feel anything but him for a moment, tears leaking out of your eyes as you ride out your first high.

He’s staring down at you, a rivulet of blood trailing down his chin as your vision begins to clear. There’s blood dripping from his sides, mixing with the sweat on your skin from where your nails had ripped at his skin. Despite your blinding orgasm, your pussy is still throbbing, the heat beneath your skin still burning hot.

You’re nowhere near done.

Hunter sits up and grabs your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. You hit the floor with a thud, narrowly missing smashing your face into the hard metal. He forces your hips up, shaky legs keeping your ass raised for him. He kneels behind you, dragging his cock through your messy pussy before he’s sinking back in, filling your desperate cunt once more.

It truly feels animalistic now, forced into such a primal position, unable to do anything but hold yourself up as he relentlessly fucks into you. His hands are bruising at your hips, blunt nails biting into your skin. He curses, tightening his grip until it’s almost painful as he stills, cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum.

You moan from the sensation of being filled with him, eyes rolling back as your own orgasm ripples through you. He’s still hard inside you, even as the last spurts of him hit your walls.

This is far from over.

Hunter keeps you in this position, picking up his pace once more. He can do nothing but grunt and growl as he fucks into you, nothing but whimpers and whines leaving your throat as he drags orgasm after orgasm from you, filling you over and over with his seed.

Your knees begin to ache, sensations coming back to you as he releases your hips, tangling a hand in your hair instead. Your body drops, his following as he pins you to the floor, holding you in place as he seeks one last orgasm. There’s a pool of drool under your cheek, the floor a mess of blood and cum and sweat.

His hand tightens in your hair painfully, gripping onto you as he cums one last time, forcing your body into one more orgasm with him. You both lay there panting, the heat under your skin beginning to fade. The hand in your hair begins to loosen until it’s sliding out, planting itself next to your head.

“Hunter?” You whisper, voice cracking and rough.

He’s breathing heavily, still inside you, still trapping you against the floor. “Mesh’la.” His voice cracks, heavy with emotion.

You grab his wrist before he can pull away, shifting your hips until he slips out of you. You wince at the sensation, pussy sore from the pounding it had just taken. You feel weak and sore, limbs shaking as you roll yourself over onto your back so you can stare up at him.

You can see it in his face, the reality beginning to set in, the gravity of the situation hitting him. You’re both a mess of blood and bruises and fluids. You try not to look down, try to keep your focus on his face, and his focus on yours.

You lift shaking hands to his cheeks, his bandana somewhere on the floor beside you. You brush his hair from his face, the strands soaked with sweat. “One more time.” You whisper, tracing the skull tattoo. “One more time.”

You can’t explain it, can’t give a reason but you don’t need to. He reaches down, jerking his cock a couple of times before he sinks back into you. You close your eyes, your face pinching a bit at the soreness. You’re not going to be able to walk or sit comfortably for a few days. You’re not likely to forget this.

He stays still as he seats himself inside you, allowing his body to press against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him against you as he buries his face in your shoulder. You hold him as he begins to move, slow and deep, a contrast to what he had just done to your body.

Your toes curl as raw pleasure burns through you, not like it had before, not brought on by the drug in your system. The heat that blossoms under your skin feels natural, feels normal. How it should feel. You pull his face from your shoulder, keeping his eyes on you as he fucks into you. Despite the discomfort, despite the pain, despite the ache deep in your bones you can feel the heat blooming in your stomach.

“Thank you,” You whisper, his head lowering towards your face.

For a moment you think he might kiss you but he doesn’t, letting his forehead rest against yours. You close your eyes, basking in the pleasure, basking in the feeling of him inside you, really inside you. Not the desperation you had been feeling, the need for him to utterly destroy you to keep you from dying.

Just for a moment you can imagine what it would be like if he were yours. If you had been brave enough to tell him before. If your fantasies were more than just fantasies.

You spasm around him as you cum, holding him tightly against you. He groans your name as he cums, cock twitching weakly inside you. You’re both exhausted, both feeling the effects of the drug wearing off.

You hold onto him knowing this can’t happen again, knowing you’ll likely be putting in transfer paperwork as soon as you land. Tears prick your vision as you feel yourself fading, body giving out from exhaustion.

***

It’s too bright when you wake.

You hate medical centers and their harsh sterile environments. The GAR’s are no better, in fact they might be worse. You’re sticky from dried bacta, something tugging on your arm as you try to move it. Your fingers make out the shape of an IV moments before they’re gently eased away.

“Don’t go pulling that out now.” A familiar voice says.

“Wasn’t gonna.” You manage to get out, your tongue feeling swollen and throat dry. Your voice sounds like you’ve swallowed sand, rough and weak.

You crack your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the medical station. The cot you’re on is hard and uncomfortable, and the blanket is scratchy against your sensitive skin. It was like no one cared about the comfort of the clones, even in a vulnerable place such as a medical station.

You squint up at the reg medic above you, his head bowed as he stares at a datapad. You cast a quick glance around your bed. You’re slightly disappointed to find you’re alone. They’ve probably already left. You’ll be handed a transfer request as soon as you’re sitting up, you’re sure of it.

You can’t blame them.

The medic goes through a series of tests, explaining your injuries and what they had found left over in your bloodstream when you’d arrived, and what they had done to fix it. You should be perfectly fine, aside from some lingering soreness that could last as long as a few hours as the bacta finishes working its way through your system.

You finally get some water and rations, downing almost a whole pitcher. Every time the door opens, you half expect it to be someone in command coming to give you your new orders. You wonder where they’ll put you. On a base somewhere? In with a larger battalion? Or were you going right back to Coruscant where you started?

A doctor comes in to check you, double checking all your tests and vitals are normal. You withhold details, not sure how much the others had said, if they’d said anything at all. Regardless, you wouldn’t throw them under the bus, even if they did leave you here.

“Your squad is waiting in the hangar.” The doctor says, signing off on the datapad. “They were banned from the upper levels after they started a fight with a medic who was trying to keep them from following you into the exam room.”

You stare at the doctor with wide eyes, not expecting that. So they hadn’t left you? They had even started a fight for you?

“You’re cleared to go.” The doctor says.

You blink at her for a moment before your mind catches up. You’re still in shock that they want to keep you on the squad, much less that they’d waited for you. You’re surprised the GAR hadn’t sent them on another mission while you were recovering.

You change into the scratchy clothes the medical station laid out before you before you make your way through the maze to the hangar. You’re nervous on the lift ride down, your stomach churning, threatening to bring back up the rations. You could go straight to command and ask for a transfer yourself. You could ask to never have to see them again, never have to face them after everything.

But they had waited for you.

Were they waiting to serve you transfer papers themselves? Pass over your belongings before telling you to get out of their sight? You’re nearly sick as the lift slows to a stop, opening to the hangar. You step off, legs shaking as you scan the ships until you find the Marauder.

You’ve convinced yourself to turn back around and board the lift when your name is called, loudly, echoing in the hangar. People stop and stare, your cheeks warming in embarrassment.

Wrecker is waving his arm, towering over the civilians and regs milling about in the hangar. You can’t run for it now. You take a breath, letting it out before you weave through the crowd towards the Marauder.

You’re scooped off your feet as soon as you’re in sight, joints cracking as Wrecker picks you up in a hug and spins you. You yelp in shock, not expecting such a welcoming response.

“Easy, Wrecker.” Crosshair says. “You don’t want to send her back to a bacta tank, do you.”

“Sorry.” Wrecker sets you back on your feet, patting your back a little too hard, nearly knocking the air from your lungs. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Yes, I read over the doctor’s notes.” Tech says. “I am pleased with the results of your tests.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Good to see you too, Tech.”

Your body floods with shame as you turn to Echo, remembering what you had put him through in the cockpit in your desperation to end your suffering.

“Don’t.” He says, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You needed to try. I’m just sorry it didn’t work.”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

He squeezes your shoulder again as you glance around. Hunter is nowhere to be found. Your brows pull together in a frown. Was he still being checked out? Did someone spill? Had they figured out what had happened and he was being reprimanded and being sent to be decommissioned. No, that wouldn’t be right. The others wouldn’t be so happy. They likely wouldn’t have let you walk out of there either.

“He’s on board.” Crosshair says, rolling his eyes. “Wallowing in his own self-made misery.”

They part the way for you, letting you walk up the steps into the Marauder. It feels different now, after what had happened. It’s been cleaned, likely meticulously by Tech while they waited. It hasn’t smelled this decent probably since it came off the line.

You walk through the cockpit into the hull. Hunter has his back to you, standing near the gunner’s chair. You approach slowly, knowing he knows you’re there. You can’t hide anything from him.

“Hunter?” You ask quietly, the others loading up behind you.

“Was it true?” He asks, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder. “What you said?”

You know what he’s talking about. You wanted him to know before, while there was still a shred of sanity. You wanted him to know in case he remembered. You didn’t want him to feel guilty.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yes. All of it.”

His shoulders slump, his head turning away from you. “It’s frowned upon.” He says. “We’re not supposed to fraternize.”

“Since when do you follow rules?” You say, voice shaking just a little.

His back straightens just a little, a laugh huffing from his chest. “You’re right.”

He turns, crossing the distance between you quickly. He takes you in his arms, pressing his lips against yours. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His lips are soft against yours, teeth nibbling at your lower lip.

“You could at least wait until we take off.” Crosshair sighs behind you.

You giggle against Hunter’s lips, his hand lifting from your back for a moment and you can imagine the rude sign he had just flashed at Crosshair. You pull him back to you, pressing your lips against his once more.

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#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #tbb hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #x reader #clone thirsting #the dark side fic

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xmalereader · 1 month

Text

Kylo Ren x Teen! Male Reader

☆— MASTERLIST —☆

REQUEST: I just wanted to know if you maybe could write Kylo ren x child/teen male reader. Where the reader is like his apprentice aaand he shows him the force and how to fight with a light saber. And while training he gets hurt or something and Kylo is all dad-like :3

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, slight angst, knights of ten, training, slight back story, Kylo showing his Ben side, father and son relationship, platonic, teenager reader, mentions of purrgli.

WC: 2.1K

TAGS: @justalonleyboy

NOTES: Finally! First request is up! I hope you enjoy this shot, I tried to make it as father and son relationship as possible, but other than that thank you for the request it’s been a long time since I’ve written for Kylo Ren so it feels nice writing about him again.

“Again.”

His masters voice echos in the training room. He’s standing opposite of his opponent, panting and sweating from the dueling session. He’s been training all morning nonstop and he still hasn’t managed to take down one of the knights of Ren, he can sense them smirking behind those mask as they all watched him train.

His eyes drift over to the others, inhaling some air into his lungs and shakes his head. He couldn’t go any further his body feels sore and his legs are screaming at him to sit and take a break.

“I can’t.”

He felt guilt and shame for disobeying his masters words, expecting a scolding from him as usual only this time he approached him and used the force to summon his saber into his hand. Y/n is surprised by his actions, breathing hitching as he looks up to his master who stared him down.

The masked man looks at him up and down and can clearly seen the kids fatigue. “Leave us.”

The knights respect his wishes and leave the training room, hearing them murmur amongst themselves and leaving the two alone. As the doors close behind them they are finally left alone.

“I told you not to push yourself.”

“I didn’t want to disappointment you.”

Kylo remains quiet when hearing his response, earning him a deep sigh as he reached up to remove his helmet, revealing his face and the scar that was left behind on his right cheek. It was a nasty wound that he received from the Jedi and remembers that day clearly even though he was his apprentice he stayed by his side in the medical wing while he was healing, being the one to check his face evert once an while until it healed, leaving a scar behind.

“You didn’t, but I also can’t have my apprentice draining himself when training. You could have gotten hurt.” Kylo knows how rough the Knights of Ren can be he’s trained with them before and faced the consequences of their training methods the amount of bruises and pain he went through. He wouldn’t want Y/n to go through the same and kept an eye on him during training and became strict whenever he didn’t listen to his orders.

“Go wash up and get something to eat.” Said Kylo. “Rest.” His last word was stern, ordering him.

Y/n sighs to himself. “Yes, master.”

Y/n leaves the training room, leaving Kylo on his own while he makes his way back to his own private room. Once he’s far away and alone he lets out a groan and rubs his sore hips. “Damn knights are gonna kill me.” They’ve been dropping him to the ground every time he trained with them, using the wooden sabers to smack him each time he failed.

He deeply disliked them and would prefer using the trainer droids.

When reaching his room he waves his hand, using the force to open the door and doing the same when closing it after he walks inside and gets himself undressed and towards his shower where he can finally get washed up and relax a bit before getting something in his stomach. As much as he hated the training he should be grateful if it wasn’t for Kylo he would have remained in the slums slaving away in order to survive.

Kylo had sensed him and came to him.

Before he could officially leave the slum, Kylo had given him a test in order to prove that he would be a worthy apprentice. Y/n was desperate to get off that damn planet and accepted his test, not realizing the dangerous potential he carried. Since his test he always stuck by Kylo’s side, following his orders and listening to what he had to say.

He was afraid of the man at first.

Witnessing his anger issues and the amount of troopers he had killed out of pure anger. The times when he’d grow desperate to show their power and hunting other force sensitives that they could find. Many of the generals and engineers murmured about him, saying that he wouldn’t last long and would possibly anger his master enough to get himself killed.

Only for Y/n to prove them wrong.

The first time that Y/n disobeyed orders he almost got himself killed trying to capture a rebel in order to get further information about their plans. Kylo was not happy, yelling at him for his actions. Everyone would have expected Y/n to cower away and take the scolding only to argue back with the Sith, spitting back words as the two scream at each other.

They’d think that Kylo would have killed him that day, but instead Kylo had let him win the argument and stomped away angrily.

Since then the two found a weird way of bonding with each other.

After Y/n finished washing up and getting some clothes on he made his way to the mess hall where he grabs himself something to eat and takes his tray with him. He doesn’t eat with the other troopers since no one really had the courage to speak with him, to afraid to approach him.

So instead he spent his time eating in Kylos room.

It became a regular routine between the two. When Y/n enters the room he doesn’t find Kylo anywhere which was expected and sits by one of the windows, watching them fly through hyper space as he eats his food in silence. After some time, Kylo finally returns back to his own room, door closing behind him as he removes his mask and sets it down on his bed.

“I’ve never seen a purrgil…have you?” Y/n looks away from the window and over to Kylo who removed his saber from his belt and sets it on his empty desk along with Y/n’s saber. Kylo still hasn’t given him the approval of wearing it yet and simply waited for that day.

“They are nothing but stories, no one has seen one.” Said Kylo.

Y/n hums in return and looks back out the window. The silence between them was comfortable as Kylo did his own thing by doing his daily check ups on Hux’s work and making sure that everything is going in order. After Y/n finishes his meal he leaves the tray aside and steals one of Kylos holo pads in order to read something.

“Don’t forget your training starts again in an hour.”

The teen mentally groans to himself, eyes on the holo when speaking up. “Who will I be training with this time? Cardo? Trudgen?” He’s basically trained with each Knight and already knows the routine he has with each one. He just hopes its not Vicrul he’s the most ruthless one out of all of them and never holds back.

Kylo stands from where he sits and approached Y/n, taking the pad from him. “You’ll be training with me.”

His eyes slightly widen by his words. It wasn't rare for him to train with Kylo he was the first one he trained with when he first got here. He taught him about the force and how to wield a saber before the knights of ren came in to further his training while he watched him. “I will be testing your skills today and see how well the knights have been training you.”

“Of course, Master.” He softly whispers out, growing anxious as he quickly gathers his empty tray and leaves his room, rushing out to get ready for his final training today. He’s been training for this day and shouldn’t feel nervous, but somehow he can’t help himself.

When getting ready for his training he makes sure to put on a proper training suit in case Kylo goes a little rough on him. He doesn’t need anymore bruises showing each time he looks in the mirror. He laced up his boots and makes his way to the training room once he’s done getting ready.

When entering the training room it was usual for him to find the Knights of Ren training before him. Only this time they are standing on the side, watching him carefully as he enters the room.

“Don’t kill yourself kids.” Said Cardo, obviously smirking under his helmet.

Y/n glared at him when approached the training weapons, only to be stopped when Vicrul approached him. “You will be needing this.” He holds out his saber only this one wasn’t his. It was different from the one Kylo let him use.

He takes the saber in his hand, getting adjusted to the feeling of it in his hand and walks towards the middle of the room. He doesn’t get much time to mentally prepare himself when Kylo walks into the room, wearing his own helmet and without the cape this time.

Kylo doesn’t really give him time to prepare and approached him quickly, holding out his own saber and igniting it and takes a swing at him. Y/n is surprised by the quick attack and side steps quickly, igniting his own saber in order to defend himself. He holds it with one hand, focusing on Kylo as he takes another swing at him.

He’s quick to block it with his own saber. This one felt lighter to use than the one that Kylo got for him like it belonged to him.

He moves fast with each strike, groaning by the pressure that Kylo puts on his saber with each swing he takes. He can’t back down now a Jedi could easily kill him if he doesn’t fight back properly. He doesn’t know how long he’s been fighting for, but Kylo wasn’t backing down until one of them yielded.

Y/n holds the saber in his tight hand as his eyes follow Kylos movements. Y/n makes the first attack, swinging it close to his head which Kylo quickly dodged no realizing his own misstep as his own master swings his own red saber down on him. His eyes widen and quickly thinks, thrusting his hand out and using the force to stop the saber from killing him.

He can feel the hot saber close to his face, groaning and tilting his head away as he uses his power to push back only to grow weaker and tired. His hand is shaking and the saber is getting closer the red saber burning on his shoulder as he cries at the pain.

He can feel hot tears running down his face his emotion is enough for Kylo to stop, turning off his saber as the teen falls to the ground. A hand on his shoulder as he bites his lip hard trying to contain his muffled groans.

Kylo doesn’t hesitate to drop his saber, getting down on his knees and grabbing onto the kid. “Let me see.”

Y/n sniffles and whimpers afraid to show his wounded shoulder and shakes his head.

“Y/n.” Kylos voice is stern, enough to make the kid move his hand from where it lies as he shows his wound to Kylo. It wasn’t deep but it was burnt that he’ll need a patch and some bacta spray to get it healed up. While Kylo focused on Y/n’s wellbeing the Knights stood on the side, noticing his actions.

“He is still to weak and needs further training.”

Y/n looks away as he grows ashamed by their words only for Kylo to frown under his helmet.

“He is still a kid.” Kylo speaks up while looking over his shoulder, glaring under his helmet as he comes to a stand. “Get me a medical droid.”

“Ren—“

“Now!” Kylo shouts at the knights, reminding them who they follow as they leave the training room and search for a medical droid.

Kylo puts his focus on Y/n again and touched his shoulder which makes him wince. “It hurts.” He groans out. “I know it hurts and its gonna hurt even more if you don’t let me see if properly.�� Y/n whines and lets Kylo examine the wound. The two are quiet until Kylo finally speaks up in a soft tone. “I’m sorry, I overstepped and got you hurt. I was rough on you.”

Even though Kylo was the most intimidating man on the ship only Y/n had the privilege to see his soft side which was very rare. He never pointed it out and simply went along with it, accepting his apology with a small nod as he lets him tend to his wound. “Well, at least I know you can handle a rough battle.” Y/n choked out a chuckle, sniffling back his tears as he sticks close to Kylo as they wait for the medical droid.

#male reader #Kylo ren x male reader #Kylo Ren #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars x male reader #Star Wars #ben solo x male reader #Ben solo #dark side #sith #teen male reader #Kylo ren x teen male reader

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j0kers-light · 6 months

Note

Hello! Could I ask about scenario where The Joker has been very distant lately to Y/N always busy and almost never around her anymore which left reader very confused and upset. (((Now obviously he’s not cheating or anything like that he’s just too busy with his sick twisted plans on how to take over Gotham or something —but ohh well your insecurities get the best of you))). It’s been about good 3 months since she saw him he wasn’t replying to her texts and when you called him it always directed you to voicemails. It could be only two things he could’ve moved on from you or he is too damn busy to even pick up your calls…. So you decided to go on a date with some rando to push your feelings aside. Because at the same time, you couldn’t just sit around and wait for The Joker, that was just stupid. You aren’t even sure what’s going on?? It was exciting at first, in the heat of the moment because you were a bit attention-starved to be fair. But now as you’re getting ready you’re having second thoughts about it all and how risky it could be. Joker is a very very jealous and possessive man and he could be literally everywhere you knew he had his goons looming around you to make sure you’re safe. But you gulped those thoughts away and went out anyways. Well that was worst decision of your LIFE as long behold he found out …..now it’s up to you how you continue and interpret all this because I’m really bad at it (sooo sorry) he either ruins the date or is waiting for reader at her apartment….literally however you want it you can even change some stuff in the middle I really don’t mind 🙏🙏 I just need more jealous joker in my life (I have serious issues) it could be angst fluff smut🤭🤭🤭🤭or even everything as I said I really don’t mind. Thank youuuuu✨💕🪷

His Lighthouse: J Stands for Jealous (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

J Stands for Jealous - Oneshot

Did someone ask for some Jealous!Joker wayy back on Sept 5th? I come bearing gifts with an unexpected twist!! 🤧 please don’t hate me anon if you don't like it!

Get ready for some angst, fluff, and of course Jealous!Joker but not in the way you think... I won't lie this was a tricky request to fill but in the end, I went a different route with jealousy! I hope you enjoy! 🖤✨

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist!

The number you have dialed has a voicemail box that has not been set up yet. Please try calling again later.

You groaned in frustration and tossed your phone on the bed. If your hair wasn't up in protective braids you would've ran your hands through your hair. When did it get like this? Calling, waiting up, and wishing for a smidgen of communication from Joker– only to receive absolute silence?

Joker being distant was putting things mildly. He had up and ghosted you.

One night you were kissing him goodbye and the next GCN reported that Joker had gone M.I.A. Funny how he was seen two days later shooting at Batman's tank of a car down Dini Hwy but sure.. Joker was 'missing.'

Joker was actively terrorizing Gotham City streets, he was only M.I.A from your life. A part of you wanted to create a missing person's report but that wouldn't end well.

The entire GCPD force would be breaking down your door by the time you uttered, "Yes, I haven't seen my boyfriend, The Joker, in months."

You weren't quite sure who put a label on this ill fated relationship but the minute it was established, everything started to fall apart.

You would lie awake at night thinking about the downfall to you and Joker's relationship. Maybe you should have been content with the uncertainty and kept things vague. Not knowing where you stood with the infamous clown— but still together, was better than a missing boyfriend and an empty bed.

You found yourself watching the news like a drug addict trying to catch a glimpse of your man to make sure he was alive and well.

Perhaps he was just busy with his sick twisted plans on how to take over Gotham or whatever he does when he's out messing with Batman. You couldn't bear the thought of Joker cheating on you.

If Joker was cheating on you with Batman, you'd kill your self with a spoon but J really wanted the vigilante dead so you breathed a bit easy on that front.

That didn't stop you from freaking out anytime Joker grabbed a female on live tv. You watched with an envious eye for any inkling of Joker being attracted to her. Killing the poor girl put your mind at ease but then you'd feel awful for your lack of remorse. For now Joker had eyes only for you. But how long would that last was the burning question.

It became a vicious cycle of waiting for Joker to come home, calling his cell, it going to voicemail, or him straight up ignoring your texts, to crawling into bed and trying not to cry about it. But you couldn't deny the inevitable.

Joker abandoned you and you weren't some heartbroken blonde in an early 2000's romcom.

You refused to cry and mope around the penthouse. You would not stoop to eating buckets of ice cream and gorging on assorted candies to overcome your heartache.

You happened to be a young, sexy, and intelligent woman of color with access to online dating apps! There were plenty of eligible men in Gotham who would kill to be with you.

You can and would move on. Screw Joker and his inability to provide basic necessities in a relationship. Being present was a requirement!

Your hurt feelings morphed into petty vengeance and you snatched your phone from where you tossed it earlier in a blind rage.

Your thumb hovered over Bruce's profile until you sighed and scrolled past it. No matter how much you wanted to rebound date anyone to get over Joker, Bruce didn't deserve your toxic energy.

So you kept scrolling until you found the DO NOT CALL EVER AGAIN and the GURL HAVE YOU NO STANDARDS contacts. You should have deleted these contacts ages ago but you simply forgot.

You almost hit the dial icon on one of them until you swore you heard the front door slam shut– but alas it was just your broken heart playing tricks on you.

Joker wasn't coming back and you had to accept that to move on. Your thumb hovered over one of your past tinder hookups.

"This is stupid! Just call the number, Y/n. If he answers, then flirt! He's a classic tool, he definitely won't care if this is only a one night stand. Get what you need from him and onto the next one!"

Your pep talk was good but you just couldn't commit. Even after Joker left you high and dry, it felt wrong to move on.

You threw your head back and groaned at the ceiling.

Why did you have to love Joker so much?! You still clung to the possibility of him returning and loving you unconditionally but that was a fool's dream.

"He's gone Y/n. Maybe a walk will help clear my head and do me some good." It seemed to be a tried and true coping mechanism whenever your head was in a tizzy. It's what got you in this relationship in the first place.

You went out to clear your head and met Joker that fateful night. If the chance rose to go back in time and avoid meeting Joker, you'd hesitate to do so.

He gave you so many fond memories. You couldn't erase that even if it saved yourself from heartbreak now.

You donned some good walking shoes that matched your current outfit and headed down to the ground floor.

It was a beautiful morning and you let your mind disconnect to breathe in some fresh air. This is what you needed. Some time spent outside and not cooped up in your depressing apartment thinking about your failed relationship.

You felt more like yourself already the longer you stayed out.

You were mindless during your wandering and you didn't notice your surroundings until strong hands grabbed and yanked you back onto the sidewalk.

You yelped at the unexpected rescue and tuned out the honking and the slew of curses a taxi driver shouted at you through his window.

What did your carelessness cause this time? You were using the designated crosswalk and you had the right of way, so what gives?

Your eyes followed the bulky arms still holding you, up to a handsome face animated in concern. It was then you noticed the guy who saved you was talking.

"—be more careful! These taxi drivers don't yield to pedestrians anymore. Hey.. are you listening to me?" He eyed you up and down, mostly in concern but admiring your beauty all the while.

You were doing the same. A ray of sunlight beamed down and highlighted your hero's honey brown eyes and you blinked in awe at his model-like features staring at you.

Finally someone was giving you attention and the man was drop dead gorgeous. Who could blame your brain for malfunctioning?

He smirked at your lack of response and flashed his pristine teeth your way. He was checking off all of your requirements for a potential partner so far or perhaps your standards were just at an all time low. A flaw of your separation anxiety no doubt.

Joker was the last thing on your mind when this man was in front of you giving you attention.

"Uh sure.. um.. T-Thank you." You said after a few beats of awkward silence.

"Don't thank me just yet. I gotta say, I'm thinking impure thoughts about you." He said.

You quirked an eyebrow at his brute honesty although his baritone voice made you forget in an instant. You were a sucker for a sexy voice and much to your delight, he kept talking.

"Sorry, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? Because d__n. You are."

Another checkmark on the 'yup he's datable list.'

What were the odds of someone as attractive as him showing you affection ever again? You were lonelier than ever before and quite frankly you were ready to risk it all for an ounce of attention.

You ducked your head to hide your smile and he wanted nothing more to tilt your chin up and see it in all its glory.

Your smile was so radiant, he was a goner at a mere glimpse.

"I'd love to know your name, your number.." He sucked his teeth and admired your beauty, "your favorite position in bed..."

He probably meant to say that last part more so to himself but you still heard it.

You had to pump the brakes on that one. "Easy there.. At least take me out to dinner before you slut me out." You laughed in jest but he leaned into your personal space, taking your words seriously.

"Oh bet? What're doing later?"

Wait, that pickup line actually worked? You were so out of practice.

You shielded the sun from your eyes and stared up at your newfound crush. He was waiting for a response with a flirtatious grin etched on his face. So you gave him an answer.

"You tell me. What do you have in mind?" You flashed him another smile that rivaled the sun.

He chuckled and subtly moved so he blocked the sun rays for you. A small gesture that you instantly noticed. He was tall but not overly so like Joker. You hated your brain for comparing this new guy to your estranged clown but you couldn't help it.

Would this be a new habit; comparing insanity to normal? You really missed Joker..

"Confident and sexy. I like that. How about..." The guy dug inside his pockets and procured a business card. He clicked a pen and jotted something down on it before handing it to you.

You were so caught up in his charm that you didn't acknowledge his attire.

He was dressed for the office with his dress shirt folded up to his forearms, showing off veins that made you swoon, and a hint of ink crawling up his bicep. The writer in you was having a seizure.

He was the perfect sexy corporate alpha male and he locked down the troupe by handing you his business card with a wink.

"Get home safely, call or text me– whichever you prefer sunshine, and we'll make plans for tonight. Sounds good?" He waited until you read the embossed cardstock in your hand.

Tristan J. Price. | Marketing | Court OwlHouse Books

You knew the publishing company personally. They presented you a nice offer before Cindy counter offered with a contract that you couldn't refuse. You pocketed his phone number and nodded.

"Yeah, it sounds great! I don't have a card but um.. my name's Y/n." You played with one of your braids and went for it. "I'll call you later, Tristan."

He tested your name on his lips. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I look forward to it."

You gave him a small wave and began walking back the way you came. Something told you to look back and sure enough, Tristan was watching you leave, biting his lip. He had no shame at being caught. His smile just grew bigger as he sent another wink your way.

A whirlwind of butterflies were going crazy in your stomach. You finally had options besides Joker for a partner. Things were looking up for once after all these months spent alone.

You flushed in embarrassment and turned the corner– not once noticing your undercover security detail watching your every move and reporting in.

Above all, Tristan was a gentleman and a shameless flirt.

You didn't waste time and called him the second you got home. He was more than pleased with your eagerness.

"I'm glad you're home safe, sunshine. Now let's talk business. Any allergies I need to be aware of? I really want to go all out and take you somewhere nice. You are definitely worth maxing my credit card."

You laughed and tried not to let the nickname used get to you.

A subconscious part of you was still Joker's Light, his Bunny, and every other pet name in between. You had no business being someone's sunshine. It felt like you were betraying Joker.

Talking and flirting with someone else was an act of betrayal and you began to have second thoughts about all of this.

"Girl! Joker has clearly moved on! Get over him and let Tristan bend you over!" Your mini devil appeared on your coffee table and tried setting you straight.

She enlisted help from her arch nemesis and you were shocked when your figurative angel materialized next to her, nodding along.

"She has a point Y/n. It's been months. It's time to move on although.. I suggest taking this slow so no bending on the first date." She glared at your imaginary devil in disdain.

Tristan stole your attention when he asked if you had been to a certain restaurant. You totally forgot you were on the phone with him! You were quick to reply and shake your head clear of any imaginary angel and devils talking to you.

You and Tristan talked all afternoon and at one point you asked if you were keeping him from work.

"Technically I'm on a very important conference call Y/n.."

You could see his flirtatious smirk over the phone and your heart warmed knowing you were important enough to take up his entire day.

You didn't mind the long conversation since you've been alone for months and needed human interaction. You honestly didn't care that things were progressing way too quickly with Tristan. It beat moping around with a broken heart and wishing for Joker to return.

Tristan was a breath of fresh air and offered you a new start in your dating life. You were ready to jump all in even if it was risky.

You nodded and answered his question. "Yeah Σtella is perfect. Will you make the reservations for us or let me guess. You know a friend of a friend that can get us a table on short notice?"

He laughed to himself but mentioned he did have connections, 'None like that I'm afraid.'

You could tell the connections were nothing nefarious since Tristan didn't have a single criminal bone in his body. After being around Joker for so long you could single out people's evil intentions. It was one of the many habits you had to quit cold turkey.

It would take some time to purge Joker from your life but you had to. He abandoned you and you couldn't dwell on it anymore.

Tristan ended the call to make the dinner reservations. He offered to pick you up but you politely declined.

Something told you it was best to keep him far away from the apartment until you knew for certain that Joker wasn't coming back. You were still optimistic that your dark clown would return and things would go back to normal but until then, you had to fend for yourself and take care of your own needs.

A black dress was selected from your closet with a low back. It would go great with your braids and the heels you already picked out. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready and desperately trying to shake off your cold feet.

Halfway through your glam session, Tristan texted you with a time and a suggestive line about saving room for dessert.

It made you flush red and make a split decision to change your underwear into something more racy.

If tonight was just dinner that was okay but if Tristan turned out to be a man of action and not just all talk, then you wanted to be prepared. You could be a slut for one night. It's secretly what you wanted.

You twirled in the mirror and liked what you saw. A strong confident woman moving on and taking the initiative.

You liked Tristan and he made it very clear that he liked you too despite just meeting earlier in the day. He wanted to see where this could go and you readily agreed being attention and touch-starved due to Joker's absence.

You were ready to date again but you did stop and consider the possibilities of Joker finding out.

Joker was very possessive and he had eyes and ears all over Gotham City. It would be nothing for him to find out you were going on a date but his actions as of late showed that he didn't care anymore. Joker ignored your numerous phone calls and texts.

Each one went unanswered. It was safe to say you were single now so you would act accordingly.

But with all the guesswork floating in the air, you weren't going to think about Joker tonight. He was banned from your mind. Tonight you were going to have fun and enjoy yourself with another man and begin anew.

Tonight was about you and your needs. If Joker couldn't provide, you'd go out and find someone who could. You kept that thought in mind all the way to the restaurant.

"I still think that waiter was staring at you too much. I get it, you are stunning– d__n, this dress will be the death of me– but my brother. She's on a date with me. I'm the luckiest man alive!"

You tried your best to ignore his happiness and keep things cordial. The two of you had come to a stop at the main entrance to your apartment complex.

"This is me." You pointed to the locked door.

Tristan admired the tall white building with a nod but there was an awkward air floating between the two of you. You just wanted to go home, Tristan was expecting more from the date.

Unfortunately Tristan was terrible at reading your body language. Or maybe you were just a good actress.

"Y/n did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" It was a lame excuse to stay in your presence a little bit longer. You awkwardly laughed and dodged his hand reaching up to hold your cheek.

By all accounts dinner was textbook perfect. Tristan was ever the gentleman all night but his eyes were anything but. He listened to you talk and sprinkled in his opinions all the while complimenting you as a person.

There was a connection between the two of you and he made sure the conversation kept flowing to allow that spark to grow. Yet his eyes devoured you as if you were the main course and gave away his true intentions.

You wished his lust could ignite a flame within you; it didn't.

The food was amazing and you lost the fight on who would foot the bill. Tristan simply winked and said you could pay next time.

He was so confident that there would be a next time, you found yourself almost agreeing on another date. Everything was just so natural with Tristan. Normal was... nice but you longed for the unpredictable insanity that Joker brought to the table.

You shook your head in frustration. No matter how much you tried to forget about Joker, he was always in the corner of your mind, bearing down with his larger than life presence.

Even in the restaurant you felt like he was watching your every move.

You knew Joker's stretch of power knew no bounds. Your stomach was in knots at the thought of being discovered. Joker's goons could be anywhere; Joker himself could be seated at any of these tables ready to ruin your date, kill everyone in the vicinity, and drag you back home.

The possibilities were endless and before you knew it, you were in the early stages of a panic attack until Tristan cupped your cheek and distracted you.

Tristan was right there with his suave demeanor and sultry smirks.

"You okay sunshine? I hope you're not having second thoughts about the chef's choice. If you don't like it, you can always order something else." He smiled in the low lit room.

Any girl would fall head over heels for a man like Tristan. He was attractive, successful, and he had an air about him that was alluring. He was the perfect man, that is, if you liked boring.

Joker spoiled you for other men. You could never go back to charming businessmen or witty accountants.

You didn't want someone you could bring home to Mom. You were hooked on grease paint, cigarettes, heartache, and dark clowns that blew up hospitals for fun.

It was either before the main course or after one of Tristan's stories about his latest project that you realized, this wasn't going to work.

You smiled through the date out of respect and waited until he walked you home to let him down softly.

Tristan was a great guy, just not for you. Even worse, the guy was oblivious to the fact that you weren't interested anymore.

He was unfazed by your change in demeanor and flicked a wayward braid back over your shoulder. "I'll tell you again, you are gorgeous. I'm kinda tempted to take this dress off and see what's underneath. I bet she's beautiful too."

He moved in to hug you while you stiffened up in his arms. His attempts at flirting were now trashy and rude in your mind.

You didn't want Tristan anymore. You wanted Joker's warm arms holding you close— although you felt awful for still craving Tristan's attention. It was all you had. Could beggars be choosers?

Your hands wrapped around your date against your better judgment. You'd regret this later for sure. Your eyes wandered around the area as you berated yourself for stringing Tristan along.

Hugging him back went against your plans of kicking him to the curb and going upstairs to sleep off this terrible date. Your big citygirl plans of moving on were all for naught and you wasted perfectly good lingerie for a lame rebound date.

The street lights were on and oddly enough, it was just you and Tristan on the street.

The area usually had foot traffic even at such a late hour but it didn't register in your brain as odd. It was only when Tristan's hands moved to cup your backside that you locked eyes with a figure across the way.

He had a hood on but you saw him shaking his head at you in disappointment.

He lifted his head and your eyes widened seeing the familiar clown mask Joker always left lying around the penthouse after heists. That's when dread settled in your stomach.

You forgot Joker had eyes and ears everywhere. How could you be so stupid? He never left. You yelped and pushed Tristan away.

"Woah! Is everything okay, sunshine?" Tristan held up his hands while you began to hyperventilate on the sidewalk.

You didn't imagine things. Joker was still in your life. He was the most jealous man you ever met and you did the unthinkable and gave him a reason to be angry. You weren't safe. Tristan's life was in danger.

"I-It's not safe. I-I-I have to go..." You rambled on.

Tristan arched an eyebrow as you stumbled over your words. He couldn't understand a word you were saying but he knew all too well what was going on here.

"I get it." He smiled and gained your attention with his calm attitude. "I got competition, I'm not surprised. I mean look at you! You are... something else." He frowned when you continued to look away.

He hoped he wasn't being too forward but he felt the spark between the two of you.

Tristan leaned down and kissed you on the lips. It was passionate and sweet, a tad bit addictive but you were too mortified to acknowledge that aspect.

"Have a good night, Y/n. I'll text you later." Tristan gave you one more glance and walked away, leaving you frozen in place.

Tristan had it all wrong. There was no competition however he just signed his death certificate kissing you just then.

You were worried about your psychopathic, jealous boyfriend killing Tristan and then you for cheating. Joker had explicit rules. No one touches what's his.

Not only did you go on a date with someone else, you let that same man kiss you. You knew exactly what was in store for you.

Your eyes darted back across the street where you last saw the goon. They were gone and that sent icy cold fear in your veins. It was only a matter of time that Joker found out about your little tryst.

You were counting the days to your death.

You couldn't sleep to save your life.

It had something to do with the fact that you tossed and turned, gave up and paced the room back and forth, sat up expecting a phone call, text, heck; even a visit from your jealous clown all night. But nothing came. Surely your security detail had already reported his findings to Joker.

If you opened a dictionary and searched for Jealousy, a picture of Joker would be present. It was only a matter of time before J flipped out. You kissed someone else. Joker would be livid.

The silent anticipation was the worst.

You chewed your nails to the quick expecting Joker to barge into your penthouse and go insane. Scared was an understatement. You were petrified of Joker's wrath.

For two days, you walked on eggshells expecting Joker's return. He didn't and as the days grew in number, you panicked all the more.

Tristan also ghosted your phone calls and texts and you mourned the potential romance you gave up all because you were spooked.

You didn't question what you saw that night. You knew Joker's gang mask by heart and Joker was overly protective for it to be some fluke. He made sure you had a security team to watch over you at all times, no matter the circumstances. He would find out soon enough what you done.

Waiting for Joker's arrival was driving you insane to the point that every little noise made you jump.

It was nearing a full week after your failed date when you gave up and lowered your guard. You cut your losses and decided to stop living in fear. A good nap could calm your nerves.

The remnants of the day were bleeding from the sky in warm pastels when you woke up. The room was quiet until the bathroom door opened and your eyes darted over in fear.

Joker was walking out the bathroom, already dressed in loose sweatpants and nothing else.

He was towel drying his hair but immediately locked eyes with your frightened ones once he stepped into the room.

Time stood still as your brain caught up with the moment. You weren't dreaming. Joker was actually here. You weren't ready to face him.

Granted this was not how you expected to reunite with Joker after three months of radio silence and especially not after your brief moment of infidelity.

"J-Joker... you're home." Was all you could gasp out.

He looked the same, albeit a bit fatigued. He was devoid of makeup, letting you see the pure exhaustion etched on his handsome features and the unmistakable hurt swirling in his vivid green eyes.

One look therein had you self aware. Of course Joker knew. Nothing got past him.

"Please, I-I-I can explain!! You were gone for months and I t-thought.. I thought you didn't want me anymore. That you moved on! I was such an idiot! I.. Joker that date meant nothing, regardless of what your henchman told you–"

Joker said your name with such a dejected tone it made the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. "Y/n, shut. Up."

Joker tossed his towel across the room and didn't care that it barely landed on the leather couch before falling to the floor.

He'd worry about that later. His Light was on the verge of hysterics and he was not in the mood.

Joker walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed when you flinched from his touch but he cupped your brown face in his hands nonetheless.

"Y/n. Calm down and look at me." You slowly opened your eyes to glance at J. He was patiently waiting, blinking owlishly at you with an unreadable look.

You couldn't get a good read on Joker and that made you fear him more. Joker noticed and decided to go about this as plainly as possible to not scare you further. The last thing he wanted was you to fear him.

"I know about your... date. 'M not mad at you doll, rather.... at myself for allowing it to happen.Ya see.. I never wanted to leave." He sighed.

You blinked in confusion but let Joker continue.

"I didn't abandon you, Y/n. Never. I'll never do that. I got caught up in a errr.. pickle.. that kept me from my Light. I stayed away to protect you." Joker's thumbs gently stroked your cheekbones as you looked at him in shock.

His rare genuine smile spoke volumes. "It was toooo risky to come back soooo I stayed away. I tried to message ya but it was sabotaged and.... The point is Y/n! It was not my in-tent-ions to leave you all alone. I will always come back to my Light. Believe that pretty girl."

You felt like the biggest fool in all of Gotham. Joker was out risking his life to make it back to you and you gave up on him.

How was he not angry? It didn't make any sense.

"You weren't there. You were gone for months and I felt so alone. I was hurt and..." You tried not to get emotional but Joker's gentle touch and the way he stared straight into your soul with those abnormal green eyes of his was getting to you.

Joker's soothing touch had you breaking down in record time.

"I couldn't help myself! T-Tristan didn't mean anythi–"

In seconds, Joker's tender hold on you turned aggressive. His hands slid down to your throat and squeezed tight before you could finish your sentence. Your startled gasp rang out in the room.

"Don't.. ever say another man's name in front of me! I'll kill him. I'll do it. You. Are. Mine. You got that?" Joker waited until you croaked out a yes before loosening his grip. It was then you saw just how jealous Joker really was. His calm, cool, and collected attitude was all an act.

Underneath his exhaustion was the Jealous psychopath you knew and loved.

He sighed and let go to fuss over you. He smoothed your braids in place and nodded to himself when you were presentable and breathing properly. You were frozen in shock. He didn't even hesitate hurting you.

Joker's fluctuating mood was befitting his personality but it still made you wary. You eyed him sideways and Joker whined knowing you were thinking bad bad thoughts about him.

"M'sorry bunny I just... Argh! You just needed some attention, I. Get. It.. I'm not angry. I'm. Not. Hey.. ya wanna know a little secret?" You slowly nodded and Joker smiled wide before leaning in, almost as if he were to whisper in your ear.

"It was torture for me too. All those nights spent a-parT? Mmm I was thinkin' about you." His fingers played with yours resting in your lap.

"Really?" You asked.

Your mind quickly forgot about his random spurt of anger a moment prior, in favor of his suggestive tone at present. Joker was here and he was finally giving you attention. What more could you ask for?

He knew you loved his hands (and he knew you were touched-starved) and made sure to keep contact with you as he spoke.

"I missed my Princess and I knoooooow–" He yawned mid sentence, "..you missed me. C'mere, my Light. I wanna hold ya."

You hid your smile witnessing Joker be so unguarded and so unlike himself. You could tell he didn't sleep at all these past few months. Dark circles weighed down his gorgeous eyes and he literally made grabby hands at you. It was refreshing to know you weren't the only one touch-starved here.

Joker was the world's lightest sleeper. He could only sleep a full eight hours if he had his Bunny to cuddle up with. You had just woken up yourself but Joker needed his rest and he needed you.

You fell into his arms and he quickly maneuvered the both of you so he lied on the bed with you nestled on his side. You tossed your leg over Joker's hips and he held it there, rubbing his hands along your plushy thighs.

His hands became restless and began re-tracing all of your curves, (as if he could ever forget them in such a short amount of time) and came to a stop at the crown of your head. He hummed contently and left a kiss in your hair.

"I'm sorry you felt alone, Bunny. The plan wasn't supposed to take that long 'n especially not months. I can't promise I'll be able to return quickly, but I will always come back to my Light. Just... just don't give up on me, mkay?"

You nodded and glanced up at Joker. His eyes were closed, yet you knew his focus was solely on you. To prove your point, he opened his eyes and stared directly at you.

His emerald green eyes were drowsy but you could tell his words were sincere. His unique speech pattern was nonexistent the longer the conversation went. You had a raw and honest Joker lying beneath you.

So you decided to be honest in return.

"I promise, J. I won't give up on you. I only want you."

"Gooooood." He closed his eyes again and repositioned his head better on the pillows. "Cuz no one touches what's mine. Expect your uh.. punishment later." He yawned.

"What?!!" You tried to get up but Joker's arms tightened around you, keeping you lying atop of him. You wiggled in his grip and he growled in warning.

"J, I thought you said you weren't mad at me!"

He didn't see you pouting, however his hand still came down hard on your thigh. The sharp sting made you yelp in shock.

"I'm. Not. But ya still need to L-earn a lesson. My Bunny can't be sneakin' off and.. playing with others while I'm away. Tsk. Tsk. I'll uh f__k ya when I wake up. OH! You should rest too. Heh, you'll need your energy."

His warning hardly held any weight with the boyish grin plastered on his face. Without his clown makeup, Joker was a sight to behold.

You would prepare yourself for his tough love later. Right now you wanted to bask in Joker's presence. Three months was too long without him.

You snuggled up closer to your clown and began running your fingers through his hair. He loved when you did that. He was already snoring by the time you leaned up to kiss one of his scars.

"I'm just glad you're back." You whispered.

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

Text

Switched Sides 1 - Lloyd Hansen Series

Character: Lloyd Hansen x former Hitman!FemaleReader

Summary: Y/N L/N quit her job as a hitman to take care of her nephew after her stepbrother died. It’s been a year since she became a good aunt to her nephews, and she wants to keep it that way. But her quiet life got disturbed when her former boss asked for her help.

Warning: Nothing

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Last Chapter

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

The pendulum bar of the metronome kept moving left and right. This object has helped to calm her anxiety and nightmare. Because of her former job as a hitman, her ears become sensitive to sounds.

Y/N L/N, 37 years old, is a former hitman. Code name ‘Antartica’. She quit her job after she met her stepbrother for the first time in 8 years.

'Ring!'

The alarm from her phone reminded her it was 5 a.m. The ringtone made Y/N jump out of her bed and went to the bathroom to wash her face and teeth.

At 5.15 am, she went to the first door beside her room to have a quick inspect before jogging on the treadmill.

She ensured her footsteps weren't loud, so the little one inside the crib won't wake.

Y/N looked down and saw a cute toddler in his onesie with a little blanket covering his little body.

'He is still asleep; that's great.'

Then she carefully moves to another room to see another kid. She opened the door and saw the teenage boy still asleep.

'Good.'

If anyone ever told her, she would become an aunt she would laugh at them.

But after Y/N became the legal guardian for his stepbrother's kids, the earth would turn to hell if anyone tried to hurt her nephew.

After ensuring everyone was still asleep, she did a quick workout by running on the treadmill.

At 6.30 a.m. After she showered, she knocked on the door of the oldest to wake him up.

Then she went to the youngest, Kendall L/N, 2 years old, and brought him down with her so she could watch him while she was making breakfast.

At 7 a.m., Mark L/N, 9 years old, came down the stairs, yawning, "You could just give me cereal, aunty."

Y/N smiled at him while setting up the table. "It's okay, besides I like to cook."

Mark smiled at her. He wondered how a hitman like her could be gentle and be the best replacement for his parents while he still had other relatives who had normal jobs.

He never met Y/N, but he always heard the stories of her from his father. Mark's father is a policeman but is proud to have a step-sister who works as a hitman.

-Flashback starts-

Mark finally met Y/N at his father's funeral. She was quiet. None of the relatives want to talk to her. It seems like they are scared of her. She didn't shed a tear but she look so sad looking at his father's coffin.

After the funeral, everyone discussed who would care for him and his youngest brother, none wanted to volunteer.

Mark heard his relatives murmur:

"If only Mark, I would love to, but the youngest, it would take a lot of work."

"I don't have time to take him to the hospital."

"And he always cried, my children will be angry with me."

"We have to talk about the big elephant in this room. Caring for cancer patients takes a lot of money, and their father didn't leave enough money for Kendall's treatment."

Mark wanted to cry and hide for being useless and couldn't protect his baby brother. He can't believe he heard from his relatives that they will become a new burden.

'SMASH.'

Someone punched the thick mahogany table and made a hole. It was Y/N, his aunt.

"I will take care of them."

When he saw the ruined table and his relatives scared looking at Y/N, he felt somewhat relieved because someone defended him.

It was awkward at first, but her habits were the same as his father's. The way she cleaned up the house, cooked everything, and her perfume was the same as his father's.

Mark remembered his father always wore a perfume his sister gave him.

His father told him before it was Y/N who took care of him since their abusive parents rarely stayed home.

He knew her former job as a hitman from his father, but it didn't matter.

Because she gives her everything in taking care of them, especially his younger brother Kendall, who always cried because of the pain from the chemotherapy he went through.

Kendall got diagnosed with blood cancer. It'd been a year for him getting the treatment.

She would stay up all night to hold him. Before, it was Mark who watched over his brother Kendall if he woke up in the middle of the night. But with Aunt Y/N here, he could sleep until morning.

He felt guilty but his aunt told him not to worry "I'm used to not sleeping for 5 days. This is nothing."

That's what Mark and Kendall's life has been for a year. His life could be considered normal, with an aunt, a former hitman, as his second parent.

-Flashback ends-

Y/N drove him to the school, along with his brother, in the infant car seats. Kendall will need another chemotherapy today. He rubbed his little brother's hand.

How come a little kid like me could hold the pain? As an older brother, he wished he could do something to help his younger brother.

"We've arrived."

"Aunt Y/N, you don't have to drop me there."

"Why not?"

Mark pointed at the group show standing before the school entrance door. "Because of them?"

"Uurgh, mothers."

YN rubbed her forehead; she could deal with kingpins, mafia leaders, and pirates, but with mothers, she couldn't do anything.

Mothers are complicated, they don't use any physical weapon, but their words are more hurtful than knives. Y/N doesn’t hate them, but they’re competitive on how to make their children be the best in this school.

Mark didn't go to private schools, but most of the mothers here are fighting to make their children enter an Ivy League College. They could be friends and enemy at the same time.

Jealousy and gossip are too much for Y/N. It's better to stay away from that group.

Y/N agreed with Ky; she stopped before the mother saw her car.

"I'll be here when you practice."

"Yes, I'll see you later, Auntie Y/N." Mark waves his hand.

When she saw Mark enter the school building, Y/N wanted to escape her mother by using her driving skills. But there is a speed limit in school areas. So she at least has to open her car window and greet them.

"Fiuuh." Y/N sighed, relieved today she doesn’t have to make small talk. She drove the car to exit the school and headed to the hospital. When the vehicle stopped at the red light, her phone rang. But that ringtone is from her other phone. After she quit her job, nobody ever calls her again from that number.

'Ring.'

It must be urgent. Y/N turns her head to see Kendall, who is still sleeping. She hopes nothing bad if she accepts the call.

“Speak.”

"Hello, Antarctica."

Y/N held her breath when she heard his voice. It's been a year since she met him, and he called her using a code name. That means he needs her for a mission.

"You're still alive?"

"Hmm, cold as always; here I thought motherhood changed you."

"What do you want?"

"I need your help."

Y/N rolled her eye; he knew she had left the old life behind. And the mission he gave is always dangerous; she can’t take a risk while caring for her nephews.

"I'm busy."

'CLICK.'

She turned off the cell phone so he wouldn't bother her momentarily. It’s been a year since she has had a quiet life without a life-threatening mission, and she wants to keep it that way.

At the hospital.

Y/N is sitting beside Kendall, getting his medicine to treat his cancer.

Every time she sees him crying when the nurse puts the needle through the skin, it's killing her. If doctors could transfer Kendall's pain to her, she would accept it.

There's an alternative besides chemotherapy. Doctor told her there was available oral medicine, but they needed to wait for months to get it.

She sighed; being a parent is difficult. How come her brother keeps smiling while being a single parent? That's amazing.

****

At the school.

Y/N is supposed to pick up Mark and then go home. But she almost waited inside the car for 20 minutes, and he didn't come out of the school.

She carried Kendall into her arms cause there was no way she would leave him alone inside the car. Y/N carried Kendall in her arms all day since Kendall hated the stroller. He prefers to be hugged by his aunt because her perfume resembles his father's.

"Bwo?"

"Yes, we will see him."

Kendall clapped his hands. He is always excited whenever they pick up his brother from school.

On the way to Mark's classroom, she met group mothers in the hallway. And their leader Jenny who is also a PTA. She's perfect from head to toe, has blonde wavy hair, wears designer clothes from head to toe is walking towards Y/N. Jenny is a softly-spoken person but vicious at the same time.

"Hi, Y/N and baby Kendall." Her high pitch made Kendall hide his face in Y/N's shoulder.

"Hi, Jenny."

"How are things at home? If you ever need help, tell us in the group chat."

So you have material to gossip about my family? No, thank you.

"Thank you, but now I still could manage."

"Great. So can I ask, have you prepared your stuff for the school bazaar tomorrow?"

This month is the school anniversary; for the first of the month, there will be a bazaar, sports, and music events. Every student and parent is mandatory to join.

Y/N couldn't choose because his brother had volunteered to bring food to the bazaar.

"Yeah, I've made vegan brownie cake."

"Ooh, vegan and homemade cake. Lovely."

Y/N has thought a 50 ways to step away from this conversation. If she were still a hitman she could make Jenny fainted.

"Aunt Y/N. Aunt Jenny."

Mark's presence saved her from the conversation. Even Kendall stretched his arm towards his brother.

"I'm sorry the math teacher gave us extra assignments."

Y/N brushed his hair, then held his hand. "Don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow Jenny."

"Bye."

While on their way home, Mark remembered what his aunt said to Jenny.

"Is it true you're going to bake a cake, Aunty Y/N?"

"No, I have ordered it from the bakery."

He laughed because his aunt was not able to bake. Then something caught his attention. An unknown number keeps calling Y/N phones.

"Aunty, an unknown number keeps calling you."

"Just ignored it."

Y/N didn't say anything, which means he should stop asking. He realized when Y/N was with them, she never received a call or called someone. It must be true she has left everything behind.

****

At unknown location

Inside the room, there is a man sitting in the darkness while looking at an old photo. It seems like he longing for that moment when the picture got taken.

That man is Lloyd Hansen—a sociopath, an insane and deadly person in the hitman industry, and also Y/N's former boss.

"Sir, Antarctica is not answering, but we have her location."

Lloyd smirked; he knew this would happen. He snapped his fingers. "Well then, we should go for a quick visit tomorrow."

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Last Chapter

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

#lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen imagine #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #soft!dark lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #chris evans characters #switched sides series #lloyd hansen x fic #the grey man #dark!lloyd hansen x reader #dark!lloyd hansen #soft!dark lloyd hansen imagine #soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader #soft!dark lloyd hansen

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seek-might · 18 days

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#black friday #park jimin #dark acadamia aesthetic #Red Dead Redemption #spencer reid x reader #line art #dallon weekes #science side of tumblr #let's play #caio fernando abreu #fic #empire

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st4rfckerz · 5 months

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Imagine knowing that Anakin is slowly turning to the dark side, the Anakin you fell in love with slipping away every day and knowing you can’t stop it. You’ve come to accept it, knowing your one true love is fading away and just relishing in the little time you know you have left. Admiring him as he slept, the peace he once held in his expression only shown this time of night. Stroking his hair, knowing this may be your last chance to love Anakin.

-🪩

anon what are you doing to me.

you would savor those sweet, peaceful moments and keep them stored in your memory forever. seeing anakin transform into someone you didn't know truly broke your heart. he was so kind and gentle with you, but recently his temper had become short and its caused you to be afraid of him at times.

but you still love him with all of your heart, even if he was slipping away right in front of you.

#anon🪩#AUGHHHHH #i'd go to the dark side with him idc #nai answers!#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #st4rfckerz

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threadsun · 9 months

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Anonymous Asks: "I was reading about the SunnyTime Town AU and how in it Jack has the ability to use his voice to (magically) soothe/calm anyone within hearing range, which gave me an idea: Jack using his voice power on Y/N for yandere reasons. Jack using his voice to make Y/N feel safe with him, despite knowing he’s killed people. So basically hypno & noncon. Jacks basically giving Y/N a voice kink lol. (If you do end up writing anything for this if you could include a praise kink and forced orgasms I’d literally spontaneously combust-half joking lol)."

Content: blood, gore, violence, character death, hypnosis, noncon, forced orgasm, manipulation

Every time you close your eyes, you see it again.

The scratches on Nick’s face, bleeding. The knife in his hands, shaking as he begs for mercy. The blade slicing through his throat. Bleeding out at his own hand. His lifeless body dropping at Jack’s feet.

Shaun’s chest, torn open. Ribs sticking out, splintered to pieces by Jack’s bloody fist. Heart beating in Jack’s hand. Gushing blood. Body slumped against the wall. Eyes vacant and lips slightly parted.

What you have to assume was Ian. Face torn clean off to reveal the grinning skull beneath. Body bleeding from hundreds of deep stab wounds. Fingers bloody from trying desperately to defend himself.

Your stomach turns at the memory of the bloody scene. It appears in your dreams every night, their dead bodies rising and begging you to save them. To turn your back on Jack. To do the right thing. Begging you to save them and yourself before it’s too late.

It’s too late.

“Oh Sunshine…” Jack’s voice sends a horrifying wave of calm through your body as you wake up in a cold sweat. “Did you have another one of those bad dreams?”

You sniffle and nod, wiping the tears from your eyes as he wraps his arms around you. You feel safe, in his embrace. You can remember the feeling of his arms around you, leading you away from the carnage. That soothing voice reassuring you that it’s finally all over. That you can finally be together. That you no longer have to be scared. Those bloodstained gloves on your hips. Those grinning lips against your ear. That voice.

You want to push him away. Every rational part of your mind is screaming at you to leave. You can hear the voices of Shaun, Nick, Ian ringing in your ears. Begging you to leave. Begging you to save yourself. Begging you not to let their deaths be in vain.

But you can’t. The sound of his voice keeps you from touching him any more than a sweet caress, hands bunching in his shirt to hold him closer. Whatever he’s done to you has scrambled your brain. It’s turned everything upside down, made you backwards. A mirror image of yourself.

“Jack, please…” You want to beg him to stop, to let you go. You open your mouth to do just that. “Hold me. Please…”

“Oh Sunshine,” Jack’s lips press against your forehead. “Of course. I’ll never leave you, I promise.”

Your body relaxes into his embrace, tears slipping from your eyes. You want them to be tears of fear. You want them to be tears of mourning for your friends. But you can’t trust your body anymore. You can’t trust that they’re not tears of relief, to be bundled in those warm, safe arms again.

“Shhhh, it’s okay Sunshine. Just focus on my voice. You’re here with me, safe. Nothing can hurt you here.” Jack’s hands rub your back and you melt into his embrace. “Just listen to me, okay? You’re panicking, I can feel it. I’ll help you ground yourself. Can you focus on me?”

You look up at him, watery eyes picking up blues and reds moving in your vision. His thumbs wipe the tears from your eyes, softly smiling face coming into view. For a moment, the markings on his face are blood. But then they’re just his normal markings again. Your body goes limp in his hold, eyes unfocusing as you listen to him.

“There we go, Sunshine. Just relax for me. Now, let’s get you back in the moment, okay?” You try to push him away from you, but only nod languidly. “Good. Very good, you’re doing so well for me Sunshine! Now, I’m going to touch you. Just focus on the feeling of my hands.”

His hand trails down your leg, holding your foot for just a moment. You feel his thumb dig into your arch, massaging you gently. You open your mouth, desperate to cry out, beg him to stop. You moan softly, eyes half-lidded as you gaze up at him. He smiles down at you, praising you once more.

“Good, Sunshine. Let yourself feel good for me, okay?”

His voice feels so warm. Like napping in a patch of sunlight. It swaddles you so completely, quieting the noise in your brain. Those screams dampen into muffled cries, drowned out by the cottony feeling of blissful numbness. He continues to praise you in a gentle whisper, hand trailing up your thigh.

“There we go, you’re doing so well for me, Sunshine.”

His praise sends another wave of warmth through you, a tingle that starts at your scalp and trickles down you spine until it stops between your thighs. Right where his hand has stopped too, palm gently rubbing against you. You whine, hips rocking against his hand as something in the back of your mind tells you to stop him.

“Good, you’re doing such a good job. Just let go, let yourself feel good. You’re safe here, Sunshine. Safe with me.”

You can feel the pleasure roll in waves through your body as he speaks. Each word sends another shiver down your spine. No matter how much you will your hands to push him away, you only hold him tighter, hips grinding against his hand with desperate moans and gasps. No matter how many times you try to beg him to stop, all that comes out is a plea for more.

“Good, just let go for me. You look beautiful like this, Sunshine. You’re doing such a good job of being in the moment. I’m proud of you, I’m so proud of you. Cum for me.”

The command is sudden. Your body isn’t there yet, but it doesn’t seem to care. His words take ahold of you and your body trembles, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through you as you cum against his palm. He coos soft praise through your orgasm, peppering you with soothing kisses. It feels good and awful and wrong and amazing. Your head spins. Your body goes limp. Your vision goes black.

“There we go, Sunshine. Back to sleep, with no bad dreams this time.”

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj jack #sunny day jack x reader #gn!reader #18+ only #sunshine #dark side of the sun

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read42 · 8 months

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I sigh, my legs falling freely softly swaying, as I sit on the desk contemplating my life or the lack thereof. Vader looks at me silently and speaks up, "what is bothering you, my precious star?" I look at him wondering if he could be serious.

"My life has been stolen" I reply.

Vader looks at me coldly "No I have brought you here to this palace and provided you with wealth and luxury" he pauses glancing around, "look at all the beautiful things we have here".

I scoff, "beautiful things? What about my freedom? What about that or love? REAL love."

"My dear wife, my love for you is true. You are a rare beauty, and I will take care of you. Your freedom must be sacrificed for you to understand my desire to keep you safe."

He approaches me and puts his arm around my shoulders.

"Do you not love me?" He questions.

I laugh loudly causing him to look at me in anger.

"No. Not at all. You are psychotic" I smile sarcastically.

He smiles coldly. "There is no need for harsh words" he pauses.

"I have given you a privileged life, and you will learn to love me in time. Now, enough sadness, no more tears."

I scoff for a second time. "I will not shed tears over the likes of you."

"My little star, your defiance does not entertain me. Do you not understand the consequences of your actions?"

He walks in front of you now, his stature towering over me.

"I will not be talked to like I am some common pest. I will be loved and appreciated."

"Careful you sound desperate." I say snidely.

"My star, you must understand it is your place to make me happy, to please me." He leans down close to me, his face is just inches from my own, his breath fanning on my neck.

"I am a Sith Lord. I am not to be disappointed."

"A shame because you certainly disappoint me my lord" I hiss out.

He grips my chin tightly and looks into my eyes and for a split second, I can feel his anger. He takes his other hand and smacks me across the face, his voice cold and calm.

"My darling little star, I do not take these insults from you lightly."

I grunt in pain at the impact.

"I am not to be defied." He says

his expression softening a touch as he looks at me, his breath and face close to mine.

"Star please do not make me punish you again." I shiver in slight fear.

"I hate you" I say venom in my words.

he smiles and caresses my hand, his expression now seemingly showing real care or something similar to it.

"How could you ever say that to me? After all that I have given you?"

"Your crazy do you understand this? You are crazy." I spat out at him.

"My precious little star, you must learn to respect to me. I have been far too generous with you, and you have taken advantage. No more." He grabs me and lifts me up to his eye-level, his breath inches away from my face.

"What are you going to do?" I question him

He looks me dead in the eyes and I swear I can see in his mind, he's trying to decide what to do and is contemplating different cruel punishments, I'm sure of it.

"I... I will punish you, my love. But I will do it only because I love you dearly, otherwise I would never."

I laugh dryly, "You do not love me. This is obsession".

Vader smiles again, his expression changing from one of care to one of sadistic amusement, his eyes looking through me with pleasure and amusement

"My star, you are right. In fact I do not love you, I desire you. After all, the feeling of possession drives me more than the feeling of loving another."

his eyes assess me up and down whilst staring at me with clear lust in his eyes

"You're sick" I whimper slowly inching back

He leans down to me and whispers....his lips right next to my ear, "I am, aren't I? Oh how I love it."

His tone is dark, his smile evil, "and now, my love, it is punishment time." he smirks

"No wait!" I all but scream.

I'm pinned down to the wall behind me and he moves in much closer then before as if he was about to give me a kiss. His breathing is shallow and he is looking at me with some type of hunger

"No use trying to beg my little star." he whispers "your protests arouse me. Now, I am going to show you what a punishment is like."

"You can pretend all you want Vader... but I will never be her..."

The expression on his face turns from amusement and lust, to anger and frustration.

"Yes, I know, my dear. I will never have the real Padmè and the love she felt for me. You are nothing to me but a sad replacement that I will now have the pleasure to abuse."

"She'd be disgusted and so disappointed" I say trying to play on his emotions. He doesn't bat an eyelash at you, "I can't replace her and you know it!" I begin to panic.

"Oh, don't worry, my dear. I do not intend to make you into her. But, because you do remind me of her so much, I will remind myself of her through you." his grip on me tightens, he brings his lips a centimeter away from my own.

My heart thunders in my chest.. "what if I can learn to love you?!" I start trying to weasel my way out of this one.

"My dear, you do not need to learn to love me. I am your husband, and you may not have any choice in this matter. You will love me, or I will teach you to." his eyes scan up and down the length of my body, his breath heavy and shallow. His grip is very tight.

"Or rather...make you love me."

I knew I was screwed.

#star wars #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #dark side #darth vader #unburnt vader #crispy vader #one shot #Vaders husband material #ani x you #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader #unburnt vader x reader #Star Wars x reader #may the force be with you #fiction

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elliewlums · 2 years

Note

for your consideration; stepbrother eddie teaching innocent reader to smoke... he has her sit in his lap so he can hold the joint for her... many thoughts

yummmmm so many thoughts😋💋

content warnings: stepcest, fem!reader, eddie n reader make out, suggestive themes but no smut, eddie n reader smoke weed, innocent!reader, sort of corruption kink

“you want me to teach you?” eddie asks amusedly, lit joint between his fingers as he lazily spreads himself across the couch. your parents are away for the weekend and eddie has taken the opportunity to smoke in the living room instead of his usual favourite spot of the basement.

you nod sheepishly at his question, twiddling your thumbs and gazing at your feet. he can sense your anxiety and beckons you close. you follow his every move like a puppy.

“c’mere, then. can’t do it if you’re all the way over there.” his voice is playful, chiding, and you breathe a soft sigh, moving to squeeze next to him on the couch; before you can even think about sitting, his ring clad fingers are firmly around your waist and you’re in his lap.

“eddie! i- we can’t. this is wrong, right?” you know it’s wrong to have feelings - lustful, romantic feelings - about your stepbrother, but when he’s right there, holding you tight as though maybe he reciprocates those forbidden feelings, you’re not sure you can find it in yourself to care. the strong smell of weed wafts up your nostrils and you scrunch your nose, wiping a sleeved hand over your face.

“no, this isn’t wrong. after all, i’m your brother now. i’m s’posed to take care of ya, sweetness.” you shudder at the word brother. you’ve never viewed eddie as family, not really. maybe it’s your love towards him that’s talking, but you love him in a way you’re absolutely not supposed to love family.

“stepbrother, eddie,” you murmur, hooking your arm through his.

“yeah, yeah.” he holds the joint up to your slightly parted lips, encouraging you to close your mouth around it. you follow his instruction and inhale the smoke; your uncomfortable expression makes him laugh. “now inhale, right down to your chest, alright? that’s it, you got it. and now breathe out.”

you carry on like that for a while, eddie alternating between smoking and then holding it for you as you take a hit. the drug works quickly and seems to make you needy— you’re all over eddie, nose nuzzling his neck, eyelashes fluttering against his skin. he’s in heaven.

“y’okay?” he asks softly, a hand on your head. you nod, smiling dazedly. your vision is a little hazy and you’re completely fixated on eddie. “alright, baby.” he’s cooing and it only makes your lovesick expression grow tenfold.

“don’t think ‘m s’posed to love you the way i do, ed,” you mumble, pushing your arms beneath his.

“no?”

“nuh uh. you’re pretty.”

“shh, shh,” he soothes, sitting up to cradle your jaw in his broad hand. “you wanna kiss me?”

“y-yeah,” you hiccup. “wanna kiss you all over. you make me feel funny.” eddie grins wolfishly. maybe this was his plan all along, to get you high and clingy. to make you admit your feelings for him.

“alright, hold still. i’m gonna try something and if you don’t like it, you tell me.” his face inches closer to yours, closer still. when he sees nothing but enthusiasm in your gaze, he presses his lips to yours; you gasp into his mouth, hands clutching at his shoulders and neck as you press yourself into him. his mouth smells like weed and cheap beer and his hair tickles your face. you murmur something inaudible as he slips his tongue into your puckered lips, his deft hands and soft, caring touches turning you to putty beneath him.

“eddie…” you whine.

“behave,” he warns, diving in for another open mouthed kiss. it’s sloppy, the way he kisses, all teeth and tongues and spit swapping; your lips feel swollen and when he pulls back, you’re perfectly dazed, lips kiss bitten and eyes half-lidded. you pout. “you want more?” he teases.

“want you,” you manage to breathe out before you’re sliding your hands up his shirt and mouthing at his neck. “please, eddie, please…”

“‘ve got you, fuck,” he curses. “who knew my baby stepsister was such a slut?”

you whine, grabbing for him again. your hands are on his back, face nestled into the juncture of his neck as you bite and suck marks into his skin.

“you’re so mean,” you gripe. he quiets you easily with a nip to your earlobe, another to your jaw, your collarbone, your shoulder.

“i know,” he faux sympathises, mimicking your little pout. “you just sit back and let me take care of you, ‘kay?”

#love letters #tw: stepcest #stepbrother!eddie munson #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson x stepsister!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #ily #dark side of the moon #soft!dark eddie munson #eddie my love

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harmlessghosty · 3 months

Text

Leander has fresh blood on his hands, on his clothes, on his cheeks, as he stands over the crushed body of a criminal he’s been contracted to kill. He glances over his shoulder at you—your body stiff, your brain frozen, your eyes wide in terror at what you see. How could a man so friendly and welcoming be such a cold-blooded killer?

He doesn’t smile.

He doesn’t react.

He stares blankly at you, eyes vacant yet clear, before walking calmly down the alley.

You find him later at the Wet Wick, clean and tidy as much as he’s ever been. He’s performing yet another magic trick for the crowd, but his cheery eyes fall upon you. A momentary frown creases his lips before he returns to his conjuring.

The moment he finishes and the crowd disperses back to their tables, he approaches you with a knowing, mysterious smile. “I’m sorry for what you saw earlier,” he says, sounding genuine. His hands fall onto your waist, and he leads you closer until your hips press tightly against his. “Don’t you worry. It won’t happen again.”

There’s a pregnant pause before he chuckles and rests his chin on your shoulder. His lips brush the shell of your ear as he speaks over the noise of the rowdy bar.

“At least, I won’t let you see me like that again, my dear…”

#i want his dark side #i want his light side #i want his backside #leander #touchstarved leander #ghostywrites #x reader

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mandos-mind-trick · 8 months

Text

F*** Diplomacy

Summary: On another relief mission, you find yourself in a sticky situation. Luckily there's a certain Commander to give you a hand.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, sorta sex pollen, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex, grinding, clothed sex, growling, biting, brief blood, dirty talk, language, Wolffe being Wolffe, confession of feelings.

A/N: I wrote this in the bathroom during an IBS flare up so please forgive if it makes no sense. I am out of it like crazy but must share the smut with y'all because I have no self control.

MASTERLIST

You could laugh. You wouldn’t dare, though. Your sense of self-preservation is far too high to do something like that.

It was no secret your commander hates relief missions.

It's only natural your battalion was chosen to head another relief mission. You think Wolffe actually growled when the Generals ended the call.

You know how much Wolffe hates relief missions. At least this time his favorite droid won't be going. There was no need for a protocol droid this time. You were delivering supplies and setting up shelters after a Separatist attack. The Republic needs the continued support of this particular planet due to its location near two critical hyperspace lanes, so you were going to help keep the Republic in good graces in the eyes of the inhabitants.

You would have chosen anyone but Wolffe for this mission.

The gruff commander wasn't exactly the most diplomatic, and you suppose that's why he'd grabbed you by the pack and hauled you onto the gunship with him and the rest of the Wolf Pack as you'd been loading up.

It's also no secret you're the Wolf Pack's favorite medic. You had been graced with the sigil on your uniform not long after your reassignment to the 104th. You had been among the many medics shipped off to refill the ranks after the loss of most of the battalion.

You'd been the one to hold Wolffe's head in your lap, staunching the bleeding after his unfortunate incident with the wrong end of a lightsaber.

You'd been adopted into the Pack not long after, named their honorary medic despite your status as a civilian contractor.

You tried not to blush as Wolffe all but lifted you into the gunship with one hand. You'd be lying if you said you weren't harboring a small crush on your commander. It was hard not to crush on any of them, but the gruff commander held a special place in your heart. Maybe it was the way he looked at you as you comforted him after he lost his eye, or maybe it was the way he kept you close whenever you were going to potentially dangerous areas. You know he still feels the loss of his original battalion to this day.

The gunship rattles as it takes off, your hand lifting to hold one of the handles to keep yourself steady. You don't get off the cruiser often, but you're always excited when you do. You've always wanted to travel, to visit places all over the galaxy. Maybe that's what led you to join the GAR.

You certainly don't regret it, even if it is hard sometimes.

You can feel Wolffe's arm brushing your side as you sway with the movements of the gunship. You're sure your cheeks are red by now and you're glad your back is to the rest of the Pack. You'd never hear the end of it.

Wolffe exits the ship first when it lands, offering you a hand to help you down. You take it, even though you could make it easily yourself.

You jump right into helping, working with the other medics to get the tent set up and ready to start treating any wounded villagers. You'd love to be able to watch Wolffe's attempts at diplomacy, but you are here to do a job. Ogling your commander is not part of that.

***

You're kept busy throughout the day. Most of the injuries you see are minor. Many bandages and bacta patches later, you finally take a break. One of the villagers offers you a cup of warm liquid and you accept, not having had much of a break to eat or drink anything. The liquid is sweet and slightly tangy, coating your mouth and throat as you drink it, but it’s not unpleasant.

You finish the liquid before making your way through the village.

You find Wolffe gathered around the fire with the village leaders. It's colder on the planet than you would have expected with the sun out. You slip in between Wolffe and Sinker, taking in the warmth of the fire.

Wolffe glances down at you as you settle in beside him, before he turns his gaze back to the village leaders.

You sit and listen to them talk, your mind starting to wander a bit. You can feel the warmth of the bodies beside you, almost more than the fire in front of you. Something begins to tingle under your skin, making your hair stand on end.

One of the village leaders is staring at you, her face focused. She's been staring at you for a while, no emotion or expression in her gaze. The attention is making you a bit uncomfortable, and you resist the urge to hide behind Wolffe.

You begin to warm, a cramping feeling starting in your stomach. You press a hand to your abdomen right below your belly button. Maybe you're more hungry than you thought.

The ache in your stomach continues, progressively getting worse. You couldn't possibly be sick. There were no unknown diseases on this planet you could have been exposed to. You had drank whatever it was that woman had given you. Maybe that was causing your distress.

"Excuse me." You say quietly as you step away, slipping through buildings until you're on the edge of the village.

You brace a hand against the side of one of the buildings as another cramp spasms in your stomach. The air no longer feels cold as your body warms. Maybe you are sick.

You take a few steps into the trees, not wanting to be sick where someone might see you. You take deep breaths, screwing your eyes closed. The last thing you need is to be sick during a diplomatic mission.

Your ears pick up a sound in the distance, your brows furrowing. Curiosity gets the best of you and you follow the sound, walking through the trees.

You stop on the edge of a small clearing, your eyes widening. The woman that had given you the drink is pressed up against a tree, completely bare. There's a man behind her, snapping his hips into hers. Both of their eyes are closed, faces twisted in pleasure.

Your face burns as you back away, breathing heavily. Kriff, you think. You had read something about this planet's mating seasons. The attack had happened right in the middle of one.

Kriff.

Your core throbs, your brain replaying the image of the man and woman over and over. The faces begin to shift, morphing into you and Wolffe. His hands gripping your hips, growling as he fucks into you.

Oh kriff.

You need to get on a gunship and back to the cruiser immediately. The drug could kill you if you're not careful.

Your name is called, your eyes squeezing shut as you curse. Just who you don't want to see. You turn to him, probably looking as wild as you feel. Wide eyed, sweat dripping, legs trembling. Thank the maker he can't read your mind as he struts closer to you.

You know he's big. You just know it.

"Everything alright?" Wolffe asks, stopping a few feet in front of you.

"I need to get to the med center on the cruiser." You say, voice shaking almost as much as your legs.

He frowns, looking you over. "Are you sick?"

"I'm going to be." You murmur, swaying on your feet.

You audibly whimper when Wolffe puts his hand on your shoulder, steadying you. His hand is so warm, the weight of it enough to send you spiraling into visions of him on top of you, those hands all over your body. You screw your eyes shut, not able to look at him anymore.

"What's going on?" You can practically hear the growl in his voice. Slick floods your panties, soaking them right through.

"It's mating season." You say, not brave enough to open your eyes. "They gave me an aphrodisiac."

"What?" Wolffe asks in disbelief.

"This planet has mating seasons. They use aphrodisiacs to help. I drank one." You explain. "I didn't know what it was when she gave it to me."

His grip on your shoulder tightens, another whimper leaving your throat. You want him to squeeze your hips, your thighs, your ass. You want him to hold you so tightly he leaves bruises. You want him to sink his teeth into your throat and claim you as his-

You don't realize he's been talking.

"I need help." You whimper. "I could die if I don't get something." The last word leaves you in a whine. You want a cock, you want Wolffe's cock inside you.

"What can I do?" He asks.

"I-I'm not in my right mind." You frown, eyes still closed. "I-I can't. I can't take advantage of you like that."

He steps closer. You can feel the warmth of him against your body. He's so close, his breath fanning your heated skin. "What if I want to."

You finally let your eyes open, your gaze meeting his. His brow is furrowed, gaze intense as he stares down at you.

"Kriff, I've been waiting for you to ask me for a long time, mesh'la." He all but growls, the hand on your shoulder sliding down your arm. It leaves goosebumps in its wake, the fabric of his glove rough against your sensitive skin. "Do you know why I keep you so close to me?" He tilts his head, bending down closer to you.

You lift up on your toes, shaking your head. "No, sir."

He does growl this time, the sound vibrating in his throat as he smirks. "It's because I keep hoping for the right moment to kiss you."

"All you had to do was ask." You murmur, closing the distance between you.

Your back hits a tree as your lips meet, his body pressing tight against yours. His hand lifts to your face, tugging on your chin until you open your mouth. He slips his tongue inside, flicking it against yours. You moan into his mouth, the heat under your skin practically begging you to devour him.

His hands slide down your body to your hips as he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. You taste blood, but you don't care as he presses his codpiece against your pelvis. You moan at the friction, grinding yourself against the hard plastoid.

"Kriff, just like that, mesh'la." He groans. "Gonna cum just like that?"

You continue to grind against him, nodding. "Yes. Fuck, Wolffe!"

He smirks, letting you work yourself up desperately against him. "Good girl."

He lets you continue to grind against him, his hand slipping behind you to grab a handful of your ass. You whine, his touch almost painful but you don't care.

"Gonna...gonna cum." You pant, desperately grinding against his codpiece.

"Cum for me." He growls, pushing harder against you.

Your head as you cum with a cry, hips jerking against his codpiece. You can feel the bulge under it, a promise of what's coming next.

The heat under your skin abates for just a moment, your mind clearing enough for you to catch your breath. You taste blood as you lick your lips, staring up at Wolffe.

"I need more." You gasp out, heart thumping wildly in your chest. "It won't be enough."

Wolffe bites the tip of his glove, tugging one off. He tucks it into his belt before his hand cups the spot between your legs. You're hot and damp under your uniform, slick dripping down your thighs. You need more, you need touch.

You press your hips against his hand, desperate for more. He tugs your belt off dropping it in the grass. His hand slips under your waistband, rough fingers gliding through your slick folds.

An absolutely primal noise leaves you as he finally touches you, more slick gushing out to coat his fingers.

He chuckles, fingers ghosting over your clit. "Such a needy little thing."

"Please." You whimper. "Please. Need you so bad."

"What do you need, baby. Tell me."

"Your cock." You whine, grinding against his hand desperately. "I need your cock inside me."

He pulls his hand from your pants, making you sob. "Ask politely. I am your commander, remember?"

You gulp, getting wetter as he stares down at you with that intense gaze. "Please, sir. I need your cock inside me."

He grins, stroking your cheek with his slick fingers. "That's my good girl."

You practically preen under him, legs shaking in anticipation.

"Take it off." He growls, leaning in closer to your face.

You reach forward, pulling off his codpiece. You can feel the heat blooming under your skin again, your brain filling with fantasies of what's about to happen. You drop his codpiece in the grass, your hand rubbing the bulge in his blacks. He's so big, hard and pulsing against the fabric.

You slip your hand in, closing your fingers around his cock. Your mouth waters and you desperately want to drop to your knees and suck the mean streak right out of him. You know you can't waste much time, though. You need to fix this problem and get back before the others start looking for you.

You pull him free of his blacks, marveling at the size of him in your palm. You jerk him a couple times, letting your eyes lift back to his face. His gaze isn't soft or gentle by any means. It's...admiration, you think? Something not usually in his gaze when looking at others.

"Take your pants off." He rasps, pushing your hand from his cock. He takes it in his own hand, jerking it as you work on tugging your pants down.

You get one leg out before he pounces, gripping your thigh tightly to tug that leg around his waist. You lean back against the tree, holding his gaze as he drags his cock through your folds.

You mewl needily, trying to push your hips closer to him. He finally takes pity on you, slipping his cock inside your pussy. You moan at the stretch, your body opening for him. You know it's the aphrodisiac doing most of the work, making your body well prepared for him without needing any extra stimulation or preparation.

The feeling of his cock stretching you open forces the worry of any lingering side effects out of your mind. He pins you against the tree, your arms wrapping around his neck.

He pauses once he's inside you, letting out a groan. He lips brush your neck as he feels you pulse around him, body desperate for any sort of relief. You cling to his shoulders, his armor digging into your skin but you don't care. The pain only adds to the sensation, more wetness seeping out around his cock.

"Making a mess of us and I haven't even started yet." He smirks. "You naughty little thing."

You whimper at his words, trying to grind your hips against him for any sort of relief. "Please, sir." You whine. "Please fuck me."

He nips at your neck, humming quietly. "Since you asked so nicely."

He draws his cock from your walls until just the tip is inside before slamming his hips forward, forcing his cock back inside. You gasp at the sensation, clinging to him as he repeats the motion, jolting your body with every thrust into you.

The bark of the tree drags against your skin but you don't care. You'll worry about the discomfort later. All you care about is Wolffe and his cock inside you.

"Harder." You gasp, threading your fingers in his hair. "Fuck me harder, please."

A groan rumbles in his chest as he draws his hips back before picking up the pace, fucking into you hard. You cling to him as he takes you roughly, hips slamming against yours. You'll have bruises but you don't care.

"So kriffing good." He groans, panting into your neck. "So tight and hot. Such good pussy, baby. All for me. All mine."

"Yours." You gasp, hardly able to form words from the pleasure rushing through your body. "Only yours."

"Gonna cum for me?" He asks, slipping a hand between your bodies to tease your clit. "Gonna cum around my cock?"

You cry out his name as he fucks you through your orgasm, walls spasming around him as pleasure burns through your veins, nearly whiting out your vision.

His hips stutter, a growl rumbling through his chest as he cums, hips slamming into yours as he fills your pussy.

You're gasping for breath, still clinging to him as you come down from your high.

"Fuck, babe." He groans, pulling back just slightly. The front of his armor and his blacks are soaked.

"Oh kriff." You breathe. You can still feel the heat lingering under your skin.

Wolffe pulls himself free of you, tucking himself back unto his blacks. "Made a big mess of us, didn't you?"

You nod, legs shaking as you try to stand on them. He chuckles, helping you back into your pants, putting your belt back on before his codpiece.

"Come on, mesh'la." He says, scooping you into his arms. "Let's get you back to the ship."

"But what about the mission?" You ask, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Fuck diplomacy." He says, carrying you back to the gunships.

Taglist:

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #x reader #clone thirsting #the dark side fic

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