#lightsaber wounds
Text
madness
Summary:
Obi-Wan shows up at Cody's quarters with an infected lightsaber wound. Cody, unfortunately, is forced to call Skull, the 212th's lead medic.
(Or, the follow-up to Skull's infamous run-in with the 212th's newest secret couple)
Word Count: 3,292
Read part one here on tumblr or on ao3
Cody, in a rare event, had three free hours to relax, let loose, just… probably sleep.
Truthfully, he had requested that some extra time be carved out of his schedule while he was back on the Negotiator. Obi-Wan –the General– he often needed to remind himself, was away on a solo mission, one ordered by the Jedi Council. Without the General there, Cody was otherwise only filing reports away and waiting for him to get back.
Cody determinedly tried not to think about that exact fact. Typically, the Council’s missions were dangerous, often risky. Obi-Wan would usually admit later that he had to abandon his own sensical nature when it came to his recent Jedi duties.
The thought made Cody’s hair stand up.
Deciding, against his own urges, that there was nothing he himself could do to trick his mind into thinking positively, Cody made a purposeful effort to lay down and not think. About anything.
He crawled under the sheets, which of course still smelled like Obi-Wan’s Coruscantian cologne, and forced himself to breathe deep breaths. Pulling the blankets up under his chin and rubbing his fists over he heavy eyelids, Cody redirected his thoughts away from his duties and shut his eyelids against the soft glow of light coming from underneath the door of his small quarters.
Seconds –it seemed– later, he was blinking his eyes open to the sound of a hesitant knock against the heavy metal door of his quarters. Blearily, he blinked once or twice as he raised his head from the pillow to look at the door.
The knock came again, only slightly louder.
“Who is it?” He called out, his coarse tone coming out with the words. He hoped whoever was behind the door, particularly if it was Waxer, the little shit, would get the hint.
The response was another, more urgent, knock.
Cody groaned, head falling back into the pillow before he threw off his covers. He pulled a loose pair of old blacks onto his legs and trudged to the door, hastily slapping the button by the door to slide it open.
The person at the door was not Waxer, but Cody immediately wished it was.
“What the kriff happened?”
Cody’s body went rigid as he asked the question and took in the image before him.
Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, a sheepish frown on his sweaty face. He wore a soiled tunic and ripped pants; he had one hand pressed against the side of his ribs. In the other hand, he held a rumpled pile of medical supplies in a sack made out of a medical gown. Cody could see gauze and unopened bacta patches hanging out of the sides of it.
“I’ve made it back.” Obi-Wan said nonchalantly, though there was a nervous edge to his tone. “And nothing too serious; had a minor run in with Ventress.”
Cody stared at him, eyebrows raised as his thoughts moved at the speed of light. He looked toward Obi-Wan’s side where his hand was clenched over the wound. Rather than coated in blood, the edges of his tunic, where it peaked out from behind his hand, were singed.
Lightsaber wound.
Cody didn’t need to ask for confirmation, it was more than obvious.
“May I come in?” Obi-Wan looked at him expectantly, hardened facial features faltering for just a moment as he wobbled on his feet.
Cody caught his arm, and pulled him gently through the door. “On the bed. Sit.” Cody said sternly, trying to keep the anger out of his tone, as he led Obi-Wan towards his bunk.
The General offered Cody a soft, apologetic smile as he sat down singerly on the bed, still clutching at his side.
Cody’s heartbeat pounded heavily inside the walls of his chest as he took the makeshift sack of medical supplies out of Obi-Wan’s other arm and unrolled the contents on the floor. He noted a few small bacta patches, a couple rolls of gauze, several adhesive bandages, and one hypo filled with force-knows-what.
If Cody had to guess, Obi-Wan had snagged a stim instead of a painkiller thinking he could get some paperwork out of the way once he’s been bandaged up.
“You know, lightsaber burns aren’t minor, Obi-Wan…” Cody’s voice trailed off as he straightened up from his crouch and took a seat next to Obi-Wan’s injured side, medical supplies falling out of his arms and onto the course blanket stretched over his bunk.
The look on Obi-Wan’s face said it all– he looked defeated, eyes cast toward the floor and lips curled into something of a terse frown.
“I’ve had enough time in the medbay recently.” He muttered and cleared his throat, “Skull would probably have more than enough to say about the last time I needed him anyway.”
Cody barely held back a snort as his cheeks warmed a little. He had just gotten comfortable with forgetting about that force-forsaken night several weeks before. Cody had a reputation to uphold– one of strict adherence to procedures, never swaying from the books unless it was an absolute necessity– and yet, a simple visit from Skull had all but ruined that.
He had yet to work up the nerve to talk to Skull about it. He knew the medic well enough to realize he was just as stubborn and equally loyal, but the teasing–
That– Cody simply could not bear to endure if he didn’t strictly have to.
Instead, he dealt with the smug looks Skull repeatedly sent him from across the room during briefings. Once, he’d even overheard Skull call him loverboy in a conversation with Oxy at the mess hall. Though they pretended not to see Cody standing several troopers behind them, the Commander could barely handle the minor jab without the tops of his cheeks turning into an embarrassingly bright shade of red.
Cody shook the thoughts out of his head as he pressed his fingers over Obi-Wan’s trembling ones that still remained over the top of the wound. “You think you can let go?” He asked the General. Obi-Wan glanced down and nodded once in affirmation, though he didn’t look so convinced of his own agreement.
Cody was patient, his own fingers hovering inches away, as Obi-Wan gently pulled each of his shaking, bloody fingers away from the wound.
Immediately, Cody was hit with the stench of infection. The red, swollen edges of the wound all but confirmed that it had been there for days without even so much as a splash of water to flush it out. Cody swallowed, his protective nature kicking into high gear.
“Obi-Wan, did you clean this out?” He asked as calmly as possible, voice barely wavering.
He looked up to find Obi-Wan staring straight forward, head shaking from side-to-side. He looked as though he himself didn’t want to see the damage. “I couldn’t find the time. Ventress is a capable competitor.”
Cody tried not to imagine what Obi-Wan’s words implied, but his mind ran out of control against his will.
Was he trapped somewhere? Hiding for hours with no food or water? Barely able to stand but still fighting tooth and nail?
The thought of it made Cody sick to his stomach.
“We might need Skull afterall, Obi-Wan. This is– it’s bad.”
“...bad?” Obi-Wan asked, eyebrows raised. He hissed as Cody pressed a gentle finger against the very edge of the red line surrounding the burn.
“It’s infected, not a chance these bacta patches will be able heal this.” Cody glared at the fine print on the outside of the wrapper of one of the patches. They were only meant to treat minor wounds, ones sustained hours before nonetheless.
Obi-Wan had severely underestimated the nature of the wound– the supplies he brought would barely make a dent on a papercut, much less an infected burn wound.
“You don’t think we should at least try them? I would hate to waste his time, Cody. I’m sure Skull has more pressing–” Obi-Wan tried to resist, his dirt and blood covered hand coming back to try and cover the wound once again. Cody grabbed it before he could make contact with his exposed skin.
“No!” Obi-Wan looked momentarily alarmed, but quickly shut his mouth and put his arm back behind him where it had been before. “Listen– I have baseline medical training, but this– this is not good. This is why we have Skull anyway.”
Obi-Wan brought his other hand to rub over his beard and let out a shaky breath. He sat up a little straighter. “We’ll go to the medbay then.” He announced. Cody shot him a look of warning.
“Seriously? Not in a million rotations would I let you get up right now.” Cody stood from the bed and reached for his comlink where it sat on the table next to his bed.
Growling under his breath, he messaged Skull with the bad news.
Lightsaber wound. Infected. Surface wound.
He paused before adding the last part and cursed under his breath.
My quarters.
Skull was going to have a field day with that.
Cody stepped back into Obi-Wan’s view and assessed the rest of his appearance searching for other undisclosed wounds or scrapes. Other than the slash across his side, he looked relatively unharmed. Sire, a few bruises lined the curve of his jaw and his cheeks, but that was barely anything new. Obi-Wan had a habit of putting himself in harms way regardless of whether it was really necessary or not.
“Let’s at least get the tunic off of you.” Cody said gently and curled a hand under Obi-Wan’s jaw to try and force a moment of eye-contact. Obi-Wan looked at him with something like irritation on his face, then something softer.
“Would you do the honors, dear?” He asked in just a whisper, eyes wide.
Cody, unable to help himself, pressed a gentle kiss to the edge of his hairline and offered up a muted smile. “Of course.”
He took the knife from his utility belt and cut through the beige layers of clothes so he could easily peel them away from Obi-Wan’s skin, gentle around the lightsaber gash. While he wasn’t nearly as soiled underneath the clothes, his ribs were clearly bruised and his neck appeared to have red marks crawling around the outside of it.
Cody looked away, not wanting to imagine Ventress dangling Obi-Wan by his neck in the air.
“It’s rather cold here, is it not?” Obi-Wan’s voice broke him from his thoughts.
Cody considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Concern grew in his chest. He reached to feel Obi-Wan’s forehead and was alarmed to find that the skin was scalding to the touch.
Kriff. Infection.
Cody was medically trained enough to know that fevers with infections were never a good sign. For the first time, Cody silently wished Skull would get there faster.
“You have a fever.” Cody said, breaking the momentary silence and brushing the rogue hairs off of Obi-Wan’s suddenly sweaty forehead. While his cheeks had looked gaunt moments before, now his face was stained red with warmth. He trembled even more, gooseflesh coating the skin of his chest.
Cody opened his mouth to offer his reassurance, and maybe a blanket, when there was a knock at the door.
Thank force.
He stood and strode to the door in a few short steps before pressing the button to open the door.
Skull stood there, arms full with both Obi-Wan’s personal medical kit and another large black bag presumably filled with additional medical supplies. He didn’t look quite as panicked as Cody thought he should, but then again, medical trauma was his everyday.
“Looks like shirts are optional in here. Noted.” Skull said, eyebrows raised as he walked into the small quarters. He looked between Obi-Wan and Cody.
Cody glanced down at his own chest and muttered a curse. Of course he was shirtless. Again. So much for napping shirtless anymore.
Cody didn’t have a chance to muster up his own snarky remark before Skull brushed by him and toward Obi-Wan’s shaking form still sitting on the bed. Cody followed him, annoyance fading immediately as he noticed the water collecting in the corners of Obi-Wan’s eyes.
He looked overwhelmed all of the sudden, eyes flickering past Skull and landing on Cody’s own.
Cody wished he could scoop him up, hold him tightly in his arms for just a few precious minutes.
“Sir, how long ago did this happen?” Skull asked mechanically, freshly sanitized hands pressing around the outside of the wound making Obi-Wan jump and suck in a deep breath.
“Erm–” Obi-Wan swallowed, “Perhaps two days? Three?” Cody could tell the feverish haze was setting in; Obi-Wan was not one to confuse his timelines.
Skull looked concerned at the time frame, eyeing the wound more closely. He didn’t look satisfied when he sat back on his heels from where he knelt on the durasteel floor. He motioned to Cody to step aside, away from Obi-Wan.
“When did the fever start?” Skull asked expectantly. “I’m assuming he’s been here for more than a few minutes?
Cody sighed. “Since he came here, I don’t know– twenty minutes ago? And he’s sick of the medbay– I don’t think he realized how bad it is.”
Skull rubbed an irritated hand across his face. “You know, Cody, if he’ll listen to you, maybe you can convince him to come to me next time.” Cody tried not to look sheepish, even pulling his lips into a hard line.
“I can’t make Ob– the General listen to me.” Cody corrected himself quickly.
“Banthashit. That’s the only reason I’m actually here and he hasn’t already dragged his lifeless body to the medbay instead. Just own it Commander; the General is wrapped around your finger.” If punching a medic in the face wasn’t likely a decommissionable offense, Cody would have already done it.
“Skull I swear to– I do not. It’s not like that–”
“I’ve seen what I’ve seen, Cody. Your insistence is meaningless.” Skull said, the shook his head once. “Back on topic– bacta bandages probably won’t fully heal that monstrosity, but I think they can hold him over until we can convince him of submersion tomorrow. That– and shitload of antibiotics.”
The insurmountable anger Skull had incited in him just a couple of minutes before dissipated.
Submersion.
Cody knew Obi-Wan hated it. Cody had only endured it himself once before, and he had been equally as disenchanted with it, and that was without the added roadblock of claustrophobia.
“Are you sure? Full submersion?” Cody asked, looking nervously toward Obi-Wan who had since closed his eyes.
“It’s an infected lightsaber wound, not a kriffing scrape Cody.” Skull reminded him, and stepped back towards the bunk.
Cody watched silently, sitting beside Obi-Wan’s head in a metal chair, as Skull coaxed Obi-Wan to lie down on his side so the wound was fully exposed. The medic made quick work with a set of heavy, white bandages which were clearly more fit for the job than the tiny bacta patches Obi-Wan had brought from the medbay.
Skull took a mixed painkiller-antibiotic hypo and gently pressed it into Obi-Wan’s neck before he began to slather on a generous layer of full-strength bacta gel, the kind that was only used when things were serious. Though the painkillers clearly took the edge off, Cody still cringed at the occasional tiny moans that escaped past Obi-Wan’s stony, rigid exterior.
“Kriff.” Cody heard Obi-Wan hiss as Skull took a long strip of high-grade gauze and pressed down across the length of the wound.
“Sorry, General. I know it stings; hold tight.”
Obi-Wan audibly cursed again when Skull pressed a long strip of adhesive bandage over the gauze. “That should do it for now.” Skull said, leaning back again helping Obi-Wan to roll onto his back, a more comfortable position.
Cody noted the minor relief painted across Obi-Wan’s features. Whatever cocktail of drugs Skull had given him clearly worked, and his forehead no longer was coated in a layer of sweat. Without the large, gaping burn wound out in the open, Obi-Wan looked less like a walking corpse, and more like a human punching bag. Regardless, it was an improvement.
“I’ve got two more doses of painkillers from your kit.” Skull said as he rummaged through the case he had brought with him. “Have Cody give you one every four hours, and I’ll send a med transport to come get you tomorrow morning.”
Obi-Wan blinked twice and furrowed his brow. “Oh that certainly won’t be necessary. Could you leave a few bandages behind? I’m sure I can change them myself.”
Skull raised his eyebrows again and turned to Cody with a smug, knowing smile. “Cody?” He asked, amusement lacing his tone.
Kriffing Skull.
Cody drew both of his hands over his face and suppressed a groan.
“General– Skull is right. You aren’t fit to walk, and I don’t think bacta gel is going to cut it.” Obi-Wan shook his head and sighed.
“If you insist, Cody.” He answered politely.
And no, Cody hadn’t insisted.
Skull’s shit-eating grin was almost too much for Cody to handle.
“Well Skull, looks like your job here is done.” Cody said loudly and grabbed his closed medical bags from the floor as he headed towards the door. After exchanging his last words with Obi-Wan, Skull followed him and took the bags from his hands.
“So star-crossed lovers it looks like? A match made in heaven? The only type of relationship where The Obi-Wan Kenobi will listen to you over a medical professional. I told you, wrapped around your finger.” Skull said as Cody nearly punched the button to open the door of his quarters.
“Oh fuck off.” Cody said, rolling his eyes, but his cheeks were still burning. “Whatever is going on here is between me and the General.” He finished as Skull stepped into the hallway.
“Oh I’m sure there are plenty of things going on between you and the General.” Skull said with a wink. “See you tomorrow, Cody.”
Fucking kriff.
Cody was never going to live it down, was he?
He let out his exasperation in the form of punching the door just as it closed, which though painful, was enough to make him feel marginally better.
Collecting his thoughts, Cody headed back to the bunk where Obi-Wan still laid on his back, eyes half-shut, and bloody hand resting over his chest. Cody leaned over him and he perked up a little offering a hint of a grin as his eyes blinked open.
“You know, maybe we should just accept that Skull knows; make it official.” Obi-Wan murmured.
“What? And admit defeat? Ruin my reputation?” Cody was mildly offended at the suggestion, but he still ran a gentle hand through the greasy, unwashed hair on top of Obi-Wan’s head.
“He already knows, dear.” Obi-Wan said with a mild chuckle that shook his chest, then a small hiss of pain.
“That doesn’t mean I need to admit it to him.” Cody retorted, and stood to find some sort of cloth to clean Obi-Wan’s bloody, dirt-covered fingers. Obi-Wan just snorted.
“Always so stubborn, Commander.” He whispered as Cody gently wiped his hands and then gently rubbed in some lotion he kept in the drawer of the table by his bed. "Thank you for calling Skull- I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking."
"Always so stubborn, Obi-Wan." He repeated, smiling gently, "I'm just happy you're here now, with me."
They sat in silence, Cody still massaging the callouses on Obi-Wan’s hand and admiring the gentle curve of his jaw. He pressed a kiss to the middle of Obi-Wan’s chest.
Perhaps it didn’t really matter what Skull thought after all.
#a part two to a fic no one asked for lol#to catch you up#212th clone medic skull found out about codywan#and now wants to torture cody with that information#hurt/comfort#hurt obi wan#hurt obi wan kenobi#injury#lightsaber wounds#fanfiction#codywan#sw commander cody#commander cody#Obi-Wan Kenobi#obi wan#skull#OC 212th lead medic Skull#fanfic#star wars#The Clone Wars#codywan fluff#crack#humor
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it's so hard to take star wars seriously nowadays because i'll watch someone get skewered by a lightsaber and then somehow walk it off with a bacta patch and a slap on the ass. like you're telling me a weapon that can carve furrows into foot-thick solid durasteel doors, dripping melted slag in its wake, when applied to the flesh of a sentient being leaves behind nothing more than superficial damage. like be so ffr. "it cauterizes the wound instantly" this is not a little cut. this is not minor burns. you were IMPALED BY A BEAM OF PLASMA. your ORGANS have been COOKED. your BLOOD has BOILED. your BONES were INCINERATED. what are you TALKING ABOUTTTTTT
#personal#I CANNOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY#you do not grow up with the OT and the PT watching people get cut down instantly and then just#GESTURES FURIOUSLY AT THE MULTIPLE INSTANCES OF PEOPLE GETTING A LIGHTSABER THROUGH THE GUT#AND JUST WALKING IT OFF!!!!!!!! SOMETIMES RIGHT AFTER THE FACT!!!!!!!!!!!!#LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN#WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT#i tried desperately to justify it in the ST movies because rey was established as having like#anakin-levels of force bullshit so why not. i mean anakin couldn't force heal for shit but whatever.#it's not like him having the ability to force heal would've neatly sidestepped the MAIN CONFLICT OF EPISODE 3 OR ANYTHING#STILL MADE MY EYEBROWS RAISE WHEN SHE HEALED KYLO. BUT I TRIED TO LOOK PAST IT. OUT OF GOOD FAITH. MOSTLY DESPERATION.#BUT WHAT! DO! YOU! MEAN!!!!! THAT PEOPLE CAN JUST!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WALK OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!! IMPALEMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BY LIGHTSABER!!!!!!!!!!#ON THE REGULAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#I GUESS QUI GON DYING WAS A FUCKING. SKILL ISSUE????????#????????????????????????#i need to go lie down.#dont talk 2 me about maul coming back in tcw it's an old wound i refuse to examine#''but in legends—'' i put my hand over your mouth so lovingly. No. <3#i love star wars SO MUCH but they need 2 stop impaling people on lightsabers if they dont want them to be dead#LOP OFF A LIMB INSTEAD#okay im done. thank u for letting me yell it's all out of my system now#im back on the ''i love star wars'' train again <33
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#funny#humor#star wars#han solo#indiana jones#harrison ford#lightsabers#wounds#wounded#healed#health#all good#science fiction#fantasy#movies
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God. Can I just say: Reva. That's all
#She is everything to me#My favourite character of this series istfg#Spoilers don't read further:#This last episode was a fucking emotional roller-coaster I was so scared multiple times that she was gonna die#Kinda ecstatic now that they showed the grand Inquisitor surviving a lightsaber gut wound to prove she could too#But also she could survive it just because she's better than everyone else#Reva love of my fucking life#Inquisitor Reva#third sister#Obi Wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi series#Obi Wan kenobi spoilers#Owk#owk spoilers#Owk series#Reva#Moses Ingram#Obi Wan#Kenobi#Kenobi spoilers
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You know, looking at my top surgery scars, I can't help but thinking Anakin's eye scar would've also taken at least 3-4 years or so- canonically longer than he even had it before getting Vader'd- to get flexible enough to really move with the skin and muscles around it. The inflexible scar would cause a kind of mild daily soreness and probably a pulling sensation whenever he made certain facial expressions.
Based on that, he might've had an intermittent sensation of rawness or a vague, deep ache in the scar itself, small patches of numbness in nearby facial areas, random stinging and burning pains that came and went, random tingling sensations etc.
Those symptoms are like 99% gone for me now but they took 4 years, and since the concentration of nerves that close to the eye is probably insane, and the skin is pretty thin for the depth of the scar, might have taken longer- especially with the nerves being burnt, not cut.
#sw medicine#anakin skywalker#sw headcanons#revenge of the sith#sw rots#none of this is realistic bc the slightest lightsaber wound should cook most beings from the inside but anyway#it's mostly not very intense pain (except the random stinging bits) but def noticeable#also a hot compress helps. that or massaging w your fingers not too gently but not rough#you're basically just slowly bending/flexing the scar itself repeatedly#you can research nerve pain in general cause jedi probably had a whole tonne of it lmao esp anyone who ever got force lightning'd#nothing is basically ever the same again with bodies lmao
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my headcanons may or may not get reused in unrelated stories, but given the sheer amount of punishment this kid just tanks in the game, i think 'Cal has a ridiculously high pain tolerance' is pretty much canon, so. expect that one to stick around.
#'wow that sucked' Cal says about the lightsaber wound in his chest#anyway i don't want to be a one-hit wonder#gonna post another JFO fic someday if it kills me!
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I think it's also quite telling that Rey and Kylo's whole 'thing' in TFA is like, unique to the ST too. This isn't just a TLJ thing, the Reylo plotline largely resists OT retreading for the better. The visions of each other/dialogue about each other ("What girl?"/Kylo in the rain), the meeting of Death with the Maiden in the forest, bridal carry, the interrogation scene (Rey's awakening to the Force...), then the fight in the snow is all new. It's really good for that reason, but I also think that people wanting TFA to be the original experience of the original trilogy obviously didn't respond to it for a reason, as well as other cultural moments happening at the time (Does Anybody Else Feel Like Reylos Are Responsible For Domestic Violence featuring a side of victim blaming and narrative cynicism).
Take away the magnetism of the dynamic, and really what you're left with is an original idea persisting against a stale do-over, which in itself is realising some of the better, actual thematic thrust of the thing it's responding to, but not in exactly the same way. People who were so insistent Rey and Kylo were related because it had to be the same thing ignored the inconvenient elephant in the room. The idea that the ST could go beyond the OT if it wanted to justify itself existing at all was foreign.
It's weird though, most of the online fanatic audience can say that trying to copy the OT was a mistake, and TROS' course correction was a complete embarrassment. I'm very interested as to how it will be received in the long run. I've seen some posts that are like 'I admit it, TLJ was actually kind of good' and I wonder if that will keep happening.
#reylo for tag blocking#haters will hate me for saying TFA has some of the best reylo set-up#yeah rey vs. kylo is a bit like obi-wan vs. vader but also it's really not#1. doesn't end in death just a wound of love 2. rey's awakening to power 3. rey fighting like kylo and kylo feeling feelings for her#(when the lightsaber comes to her - the look of mixed fear/awe? wtaf is going on there lol)#4. also in the snow. the setting is different and romantic
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They added a light saber to resident evil 8! I promise this isn't a mod, on Xbox 1
WAIT WHY DIDNT I GET NOTIFIED ABOUT THIS WASKJHGFDFG I LOVE THAT I CAN'T WAIT FOR ETHAN TO KILL A LORD WITH A LIGHTSABER,,,,,,
#it would just like cauterize the wound though right? how effective is it to murder with a lightsaber#answered
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the fact that they show a storm trooper get literally cut in half and not even like from a weird angle that doesnt show much, like a direct overhead shot that SHOWS the two halves of his body completely disconnected was so brutal like. by any other terms it was very comical violence but for some reason in star wars it was very visceral
#i screamed-gasped when i got to that part it was so out of nowhere#like ppl get killed all the time way more violently but its never shown so directly#ppl explode in spaceships crashing but it cuts away or people get slashed with lightsabers and its always shown from behind#ppl get shot but its like with scifi blasters that just leave very clean marks and wounds. no ones scooping their guts off the floor
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Pharmacy
Summary: (mall rats 6) Surrounded by medical supplies is a convenient time to slice your hand open. Joel wrestles your stubborn ass to treat your wound, then fucks you how you like.
Tags: Jar Jar Binks, Star Wars opinions, manhandling, descriptions of injuries (I tried to keep it as short and sweet as I could, bc I myself am a squeamish girl!! I was squirming the whole time writing this!!!) blowjobs, f masturbation, kinda rough unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, reader and Joel have googly eyes for each other
A/N: as always thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. Thank you all for your continued patience with my writing, I am a busy busy lady and you may not get another fic from me for two weeks or more with the whole finals thing, but I do have lots of shit planned! One thing at a time bug one thing at a time. I wish I could write smut for my history of Indiana final essay but I don’t think that would fly with my nun-obsessed professor. Also, thank you @noxturnalpascal and @speckledemerald for hyping me up ❤️❤️
Joel is standing in front of a map of the mall, studying it intently. It’s been a while since you’ve been at the mall with Joel, actually. With the weather getting worse with more and more snow, Tommy is trying to keep travel limited to patrol. Supply runs for necessities only, and Jackson is in need of medical supplies. Rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, first aid supplies. There’s actually a medical building not far from Jackson, but it’s pretty well picked over at this point.
“Mall has a pharmacy. A CVS or Walgreens, somethin’ like that. I’ll go,” Joel had volunteered in Tommy’s office.
“I’ll come too,” you added as you were helping Tommy fill out patrol logs.
Joel sighed, “No.”
“Why not?”
“Supposed to be a quick trip. In and out. Don’t need you gettin’ distracted by lotions and perfumes again.”
“Those are necessities,” you argue, “Besides, buddy system. It’s important for us to stick together.”
“We are not buddies,” Joel scoffed. Tommy raised his eyebrows in amusement.
“No? What are we, then?”
Joel opened his mouth as if to answer with something sharp and argumentative, but no words came out. His cheeks turned rosy as you both shared an odd look, with Joel’s hands frozen on the buttons of his coat. The pencil you wrote with felt heavy in your hand, held awkwardly on the paper as you stared at Joel. You didn’t mean for that question to come out the way it did. What was the answer to the question, anyway?
Tommy filled the silence with his own answer. “I know what y’all are,” he smirked.
Joel shot Tommy a warning look, then took your jacket from behind your chair and held it open for you. “Let’s go, then,” he said. You put your arms through the sleeves, zipped yourself up and left. You could hear Tommy chuckling to himself as you walked out with Joel.
You rode horseback to the mall. Still feeling awkward from the interaction at Tommy’s, you both stayed silent, but the ride wasn’t uncomfortable. You hugged Joel tightly, and Joel savored the warmth of your cheek on his back.
“Found it,” Joel taps the map, “I remember now. It’s downstairs.”
“Ha!” you brag, “I told you. I knew it was downstairs. I was right.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll throw a party when we get home,” Joel replied, taking off towards the dilapidated staircase. You follow close behind, dragging your fingers against the railing, letting your hand tap each of the thin rods that support it. One breaks off and falls with a clatter. Joel doesn’t bother turning around to see what it was. “You break these stairs, you find us a new way out of here,” he warns. Dramatic. You pick up the thin rail and twirl it as you walk behind Joel, then poke his ass with the piece of metal. Already exhausted by you, he sighs, “What’d you find now, trouble?”
“Lightsaber,” you answer.
“What?” Joel tilts his head and turns around to finally see what all the noise and clattering was. You’re holding one of the thin rods from the railing, still twirling it. “No, put that down,” he tells you, “You’re gonna give yourself tetanus. Put it down, sweetheart.”
“Ellie lent me this DVD. Did you ever see this old movie, Star Wars?”
“Quit while you’re ahead,” Joel grumbles, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “Ain’t that old, smartass. And of course I’ve watched Star Wars, who do you think introduced it to her?”
“Oh,” you reply, “Well, there was this character, Jar Jar–”
“Nope,” Joel cuts you off, “You’re done. Lost your talkin’ privileges. Drop your lightsaber and zip it.”
Still twirling the rod you ask, “You don’t like Star Wars?”
“I like Star Wars. What you watched is not Star Wars.”
“Yes it is, Joel. It was on the DVD.”
Joel turns back around and keeps walking, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah I do. Mesa–”
Joel interrupts, “Do not finish that sentence,” he warns, “God, that movie was so stupid. Took Sarah to see it when it came out, we ended up leavin’ halfway through and gettin’ ice cream instead.” You watch Joel smile at the memory as you approach the pharmacy and he holds the door open for you. You smile with him. Joel doesn’t talk about Sarah much with you, but he mentions her now and then, at least more than he used to.
You and Joel find the first aid aisle of the pharmacy. He knows what to look for, so he peruses the aisles and stuffs his bag full of supplies. Watching him bend over, you can’t help but poke his ass again. “Knock it off, space cadet,” he says, annoyed.
You giggle to yourself and toss the rod aside. You hadn’t realized the end that you were holding was damaged when you broke it off the railing. Fuck. It’s sharp, jagged, and slices your palm all the way across. The rod clangs on the ground and startles Joel.
Joel turns around to see the rod on the ground, and you clutching your fist tightly. “What’s in your hand?”
“Nothing,” you answer, feeling your hand become warm and wet.
Joel connects the dots. He bends over and checks the rod for rust and there’s none, thank god. But the end is very jagged, almost serrated like a knife. “Open your hand.”
“No,” pressing your lips together, you lower your gaze and open your fist slightly to check your hand, then quickly shut it. Joel watches your eyes go wide and the color draining from your face. “It’s n–mmm,” you hum, your voice shaky, “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Joel reaches for your hand, “You’re hurt. Need to see how deep that cut is, clean it and–”
You shove Joel backward with your free hand, and he looks momentarily taken aback. There was a lot more strength behind that shove than he would have anticipated. You’re not playing, not teasing like usual. “Do you wanna try that again?” he asks, his voice firm.
“Don’t touch me.”
Joel takes in your expression. You’re not trying to start a fight with him, you look worried, anxious, and defensive with pale lips and trembling hands. You had mentioned not handling blood or pain well before, but he didn’t know you were this squeamish, you poor thing. “I have to, hon.”
“Joel…”
Joel raises a hand in your direction, “Don’t argue with me on this. You need to sit down, I can tell you’re gettin’ freaked.”
“Joel,” you say his name again in a warning tone, much sharper than before.
“I know,” he says softly, as he steps closer to you, and you step back, your feet hitting the wall behind you. You’re feeling more amped up now. “Just let me look,” as he reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, his grip tightening when you struggle against him and try to pull your arm away. “Quit squrimin’,” he grits his teeth as he fights against your strength. Minding his own strength, and with one hand gripping your wrist, he moves the other to your shoulder and forces you to the ground as gently as he can. A sliced hand is bad enough, he doesn’t need you fainting and cracking your skull open. You kick your legs and punch against him, but he pins his body on top of yours, your free hand between your body and his leg.
“Get the fuck off me, Joel,” you spit, “Get off, get off, get–”
“Hey. Hey,” he says, his voice firm yet gentle, “Breathe, sweetheart. I know you’re nervous.”
You stare at Joel with fiery eyes, breathing heavily through your nose. Shallow breaths, probably not getting enough oxygen to your brain, but at least you’re breathing. Joel gives you a moment to settle down.
“I need you to listen to me,” he tells you, “I don’t know how deep your cut is. I need you to let me look.”
“Please,” you beg, “Please don’t.”
“I’m gonna be gentle,” Joel promises as he flips your wrist up, gently beginning to pry your fingers open, “You look at me. Don’t look at your hand. Just look at me. Will you trust me?”
Nodding apprehensively, you keep your focus on Joel. He nods in response, then examines your palm. He bites his cheek and frowns.
“Is it bad?” you ask shakily.
“Uhh,” he hums, “It’s not good,” he answers you honestly. You’re cut in multiple areas and by the looks of it, the gashes go pretty deep. “You might need stitches.”
Fuck that. You squirm under Joel with all of your might to force him off of you.
“Stop thrashin’. Stop it,” he says, holding your jaw firmly and looking into your eyes, “I’m not gonna stitch ya. We can cross that bridge when we get to Jackson. But you are risking infection. So I’m going to stop the bleeding, wash it, disinfect, then wrap your hand. That’s all.”
He has a tendency to get frustrated with you, and you’re sure he’s beyond frustrated with you right now, but he’s not showing it. He looks sincere, but you’re still on edge and lacking assurance. “Promise?” you whisper.
“I swear,” he assures softly, rubbing your jaw gently with his thumb. When you nod in response, Joel takes his coat off and folds it, then slides it under your head. He needs you as comfortable as you can be.
“We are gonna have to amputate, though,” he jokes as he pulls out a rag from his bag and presses it into your hand. You give him a dirty look. “Kidding,” he says.
Joel removes the rag to see if your hand is still bleeding. You catch a glimpse of the cut and the blood in your palm, running down your wrist, “Oh god, my hand, Joel–”
“Don’t look,” he repeats, “Just keep lookin’ at me, sweetheart.”
But you don’t. You can’t seem to peel your eyes away, and you feel lightheaded. Joel notices.
“Tell me somethin’ new,” he says, distracting you from the pain.
“Joel, please,” you whine.
“Somethin’ new,” he reminds you.
“I saw a cat yesterday.”
Joel nods in response. “What color?” he asks.
“Uh, calico,” you reply. He’s reaching into his bag, pulling out his canteen and rinsing your hand out with his water. The cool water feels soothing on your palm.
“What’s calico?”
“It’s when a cat has three colors, Joel,” you answer impatiently, as if the answer should be glaringly obvious to him. “Fuck,” you hiss, as he pats the wound dry. The fabric feels irritating and painful against you.
“Tell me more. Tell me good things.”
Following his instructions, you begin rambling. It’s not hard once you start. “I saw a cat and I kicked Tommy’s ass in a board game and his baby is so cute, by the way. Almost as cute as the cat.”
“You think cats are cuter than babies?”
“Obviously. Babies are gross and they’re noisy and I finished the sweater I was crocheting for Maria and the snow looks pretty and I love you and I…”
Joel pauses his work on your hand momentarily. He doesn't hear anything else you say after those three words. I love you. It’s a fuzzy sort of quiet, he’s in disbelief. I love you. When your hand twitches, he pulls his focus back to you.
“...And I watched Star Wars.”
“Yeah,” he replies quietly, “You said that already, you said–”
“I did? Oh yeah. I guess I did.”
You’re clearly delirious, in panic mode, and not thinking straight. You don’t remember talking about Star Wars an hour ago, you don’t even realize what just slipped your lips a second ago. Joel smiles to himself. He’s suspected it for a while. He loves you too. But that’s a conversation for later. There’s a more pressing issue at hand, quite literally.
Joel clears his throat and blinks a couple of times. “Uhm,” he hums, thinking of something to say, “And you said you got that movie from Ellie? The Phantom Menace?”
“Star Wars.”
“Yeah, Star Wars Episode I, The Phantom Menace,” he corrects you. You shrug. “Unbelievable,” Joel says, “Thought I taught that girl better.” He reaches for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and keeps your hand open in his. “Alright, deep breath in and out. This is the worst part, then we’re done.”
Before you have time to breathe in and out as instructed, before you have time to argue, Joel dumps the alcohol in your palm. You yelp and tug your hand away, but he holds it still.
“I know, I know, I know, baby,” he coos, “Almost done.”
“Joel,” you cry.
“Look, all done,” he whispers as tears off a piece of gauze and lays it over your gash. “See? All done. Just need to wrap it,” Joel prepares more gauze, “Makes sense you’ve identified with Jar Jar, of all characters.”
“What do you mean?”
Joel begins to wrap the bandage tightly around your hand. “Clumsy,” he murmurs, “Troublemakin’... accident prone.”
“I don’t think you like Star Wars,” you tell him.
“Not the prequels,” Joel replies, “Only good thing about the outbreak is that they couldn’t finish that godforsaken mess of a trilogy.”
“What do you mean, ‘prequels’?”
“There was an original trilogy that came out before that movie you watched. Ellie didn’t show you them?”, and you shake your head no, “So you don’t know Han Solo or Princess Leia. That means nothin’ to ya?”
“Nope.”
“Jesus Christ. What about C-3PO? R2-D2?”
“Oh, yeah. I know them. They were in that movie.”
“No,” Joel disagrees, then looking baffled for a second before nodding his head as he remembers the hour he spent watching that movie with Sarah years and years ago. “Mm, yeah, you’re right. Guess they were,” Joel concedes, “We’ll have to rectify this, you know. Have a movie night sometime.”
“Yeah,” you agree, “You can make me popcorn.”
“I’ll make you popcorn,” Joel says, watching a smile form on your lips. “There it is,” he praises, “Missed that smile. Don’t like seein’ you upset like that,” he murmurs, finishing your bandage wrap and securing it in place. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asks as he presses a kiss to your palm before he lets your hand go. You can still feel the warmth of his touch on your skin as he watches you and your cheeks begin to warm.
“I know what you’re gonna do with me,” you whisper.
I’m gonna kiss you, and I’ll tell you that I love you too. That’s what I’m gonna do with you, Joel thinks, his heart beginning to race.
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
“You’re gonna listen to my Jar Jar impression.”
Joel sighs. He watches you with adoration, and he wants nothing more than to express that adoration for you. It’ll happen when it happens. He decides to let it go for now and play along with you instead, however you want to. You deserve it, after all. He’ll put up a facade like you drive him crazy and he’ll let you believe you’re really getting under his skin, just to watch you smile and hear you laugh like you really got him this time. And he’ll tease you back, at least once more.
“Please spare me until I lose my hearing in my other ear.”
You oblige, smiling and rolling your eyes. Still holding eye contact with Joel, you become acutely aware of the position you’re in, that all too familiar position. Faces close, bodies closer and staring into his sparkly, warm brown eyes with his weight pressing into you. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, the way he took care of you, who knows. Out of the blue, you’re turned on and Joel knows. Joel cocks an eyebrow when your breath hitches, when you bite your lip and begin to squirm underneath him, seemingly now uncomfortable, aroused no doubt. “Time and place, hon,” he smirks smugly.
Heat rises up your neck and your cheeks at his accusation, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. I know how you operate,” he asserts. “What’s got ya all worked up all of a sudden?” Joel asks, his hand caressing your cheek, your jaw.
“Nothing,” you lie. Your skin burns where his fingers trace.
“I think you’re lyin’. I know you like when I get rough with ya, just wasn’t expectin’ ya to like it now of all times, when I had to wrestle you down to fix that gash in your hand,” Joel taunts, “You’re very stubborn sometimes, you know that?”
“Challenging,” you counter his claim, “And I wasn’t being stubborn. I could have taken care of my hand myself. I didn’t really need your help.”
Joel knows that’s a lie. You did, in fact, need his help. Badly.
“That right there is stubborn.”
“No,” you argue, “And I’m not worked up right now, either.” Joel makes an amused face at you, and you wince internally.
Shit. You fucked that up. Overcompensated.
“Right. Course not.”
Against your better judgment, you open your mouth to argue further but Joel hushes you. “What do I get if you’re wet right now, sweetheart?” he whispers, unbuttoning your jeans. Your tummy flutters with desire as his fingertips skate across your skin. “You’re more than welcome to stop me right now,” he purrs. He’s giving you an out, a moment to make a choice, but you don’t dare stop him. And Joel grins. He snakes his hand down your pants, underneath your thin cotton panties. The anticipation builds with the tickle of his fingers lightly dragging over your mound, his middle and ring fingers tracing over your lips. You gasp quietly when he dips his fingers at your core, his fingertips collecting your arousal. You stifle a whine as he pulls his hand away from your body, showing you his two fingers glistening with your slick. Joel clicks his tongue, “Can’t be comfortable,” he murmurs, his tone sarcastic and sympathetic all at the same time. “This all for me?”
“No,” you breathe shakily. Yes.
“You’re lyin’ to me,” he mumbles, bringing his two fingers to his lips. His mouth makes obscene noises as he sucks them clean of your arousal, humming at the sweet taste. Before you can think, he’s pulling your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, his fingers finding their place back at your pussy. “You could tell me the truth and I’d go easy on ya,” he offers, his thumb pressing against your clit.
You love the thrill, that feeling in your stomach. Joel gives you a moment to answer, but you don’t. “No?” he asks before situating himself on the ground with you, backing himself against a wall and pulling you into his lap. “Gonna make it worse for yourself,” he says, spreading your legs apart and hiking up your shirt, one hand playing with your pussy and the other kneading your breasts, teasing your nipples, “Why don’t you tell me how much ya needed this, hm? How you want me to make it all better.”
You sigh, a soft Joel falling from your lips as you become wetter, more sensitive as Joel’s fingers dance through your slick folds. He pushes two fingers inside you, fingers curling into that spot that he so loves. His thumb rubs tight, steady circles around your clit and he flicks the thumb of his other hand across your sensitive nipples, the combination of actions filling you with a deep, hot pleasure. You rest your head on his shoulder, the scratchy hairs on his cheek pressing against your forehead. You reach behind yourself to touch him, tangling your fingers in his curls.
“We’ll do this the hard way, then,” Joel shoves you forward, careful not to use too much of his strength but enough to let you know that he’s in charge. He’s always in charge. He takes his folded coat from the ground and positions it in front of himself. He stands up tall, knees popping as he rises. “Since you have nothin’ better to do with your mouth than tellin’ lies…” Joel snaps and points to his coat, “Might as well keep you quiet instead. Down,” he instructs, “On your knees. Do it now.”
“Yes, Joel,” as you assume the position.
“Ah, now she speaks,” he taunts, the quiet metallic clang of him undoing his belt buckle sending excitement shooting through you. “Open,” is his next command, “Nice n’ wide, hon, you know how,” he instructs as he pulls out his cock, hard and with a pearly bead of precum glistening on his head. You open your mouth for Joel, eyes wide and Joel taps his member on your tongue. “Keep ya from doin’ that stupid fuckin’ impression, too.”
Your eyes light up as you think of something quippy to say, but Joel slides his cock into your mouth to keep you from doing so. “Ah-ah,” he tuts, “Quiet.” He’s delicious, masculine, heady, and intense. He fills your mouth entirely and you swirl your tongue around him, tracing thick veins and salty skin. “Attagirl,” Joel praises you, gripping the back of your head and pushing himself further into your mouth. You nearly gag, pulling back slightly but he holds you right where he wants you, “Right there.”
He pushes you further than you’re used to, but not to the point of discomfort. His tummy nudges your forehead as your nose presses against dark curls at the base of his dick and you use your hand to cup his balls. As you hum against him, you wonder if Joel intends for this to be a punishment. His tone and the way he conducts himself is commanding, but the way he fucks your mouth is gentle.
“Still not worked up, right? Don’t need me?”, he asks, staring down at you with raised eyebrows. You shake your head no, lying again. “Okay,” he says, “I wanna watch you fuck yourself on your fingers. But don’t come. Not until you tell me what I wanna hear.”
Your eyes flutter shut as you bring your fingers to your core, feeling your arousal. You push two fingers into your dripping pussy, pumping them in and out and trying to mimic the way it feels when Joel does it.
As you fuck yourself, you hollow your cheeks around his thick cock, letting him feel every inch of your soft and wet mouth. He’s domineering above you, but his hand on your cheek is gentle, caressing your skin softly. He looks down at you through hooded lids and as your eyes flutter shut, you wonder what he’s thinking.
The way you’re touching your pussy hardly counts as fucking yourself, it’s teasing at best, and excruciating at that. You rub circles around your clit steadily, subtly, needing more than what he’s told you to give yourself. With your fingers working your clit and your mouth working Joel, the familiar pleasure of your climax is just within reach. Feeling yourself reaching your peak, you look up at Joel, “What are you doin’?”, he asks, like he’s caught you doing something you shouldn’t be.
You pull your mouth off of his cock to whisper, “Please, Joel,” which garners an irritated look from him. Joel bends lower to grab you by your bicep and force you to your feet, spinning you around and bending you over an empty shelf of an end cap. He parts your legs and drags his cock through your folds with one hand, the other gripping your hip.
“Need those magic words, sweetheart. Say it, ‘I need you, Joel’. Go on, now. You got it.”
With the leftover feeling of your ruined orgasm and Joel’s cock teasing your pussy, you fold immediately. “I need you, Joel,” you breathe, “I need you.”
“Tell me more. How do you need me?” as he continues to tease.
“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp, “Please.”
“Need me to fuck ya,” he repeats, amused. Joel notches the tip of his cock at your entrance, “How ‘bout that. Tell me somethin’ I didn’t know.”
It’s a rhetorical question. He doesn’t give you time to answer before he buries himself inside of you. You groan at the sudden intrusion, how deeply he enters you and how full you feel.
He doesn’t need to experiment with you, doesn’t need to vary how he fucks you. You grip the edge of the end cap with both hands as he finds his pace immediately. His cock hits you right where you need him.
“Hey, hey,” he whispers, reaching for your bandaged hand, “Don’t hold that. S’gonna hurt your hand. Hold mine instead,” as he wraps his palm around yours. “Better?”
“Better.”
You’re lost in it all, his hand holding yours tightly and his thighs hitting your ass, his balls slapping against your clit. His face is right next to yours, his nose buried in your hair as he nips at your ear.
“Fuck,” he grunts as he fucks you. He moans softly, his breath feels warm. Each thrust feels deep and intentional. “Good girl. Takin’ my cock so good.”
“Yes, Joel,” you moan.
He makes stuttering, strangled sort of noises. His breathing is sharp and unsteady through his gritted teeth, and you wish you could see him like this. You can just about picture him perfectly, his messy salt and pepper curls and that deep set line between his brows.
He fucks you hard and rough, both of you panting and moaning. Soon enough, his rhythm becomes frenetic and stuttering. “Squ– fuck, squeezin’ me too good, I’m not gonna last, sweetheart.”
“Let me come, Joel,” you plead, “Please.”
“I know, I know. Don’t need to beg me, darlin’,” Joel coos. He snakes his hand between your thighs and quickly finds your clit, his thrusts still steady and deep. He expertly paints circles around your clit as he becomes sloppier and frenzied.
“Oh god, oh fuck, Joel,” you’re gasping, feeling your walls begin to clench and squeeze him, “Right there, right there, fuck.”
“Yeah, s’it, let go for me,” he pants.
With a few more circles tracing your clit, you fall apart on him. You come with a loud gasp, gripping his hand hard. Even after he helps you ride out your orgasm, he doesn’t yet stop fucking you, and the sensation is becoming all too much. You bite your lip to stifle yourself as he chases his own orgasm, and he spills into you with shuddering breaths and grunts, painting your insides with his seed.
You catch your breath with Joel as he begins to go soft inside you. You feel empty when he pulls out of you, craving the weight of his hand on yours after he lets go. As your breathing slows, turn around to face Joel. His dominant, taunting demeanor is gone and he helps you back into your clothes, then examines the bandage on your hand. He frowns when he sees he’s crumpled it and dampened it with his sweat. “Hang on,” he murmurs, quickly reaching for more gauze to rewrap it.
You touch his shoulder, “Just– let’s wrap it again at home. It’s just gonna get ruined again.”
“No, I promise I’m not gonna clean it again, I just wanna–” Joel stops talking when you reach for his hand. He looks at where his hand connects with yours, then looks at you. “Okay,” he says. He stares at you intently, as if waiting for you to say more. You look like you want to.
Hand in Joel’s, you walk together out of the mall. The horseback ride home is quiet. You hug Joel tightly, and Joel savors the warmth of your cheek on his back again.
“Joel?” you ask.
“Yeah, hon.”
“You’re sure you don’t wanna hear my impression?”
“I’m sure,” Joel says, but you can hear the smile in his voice.
as always, i appreciate all of my readers. please please please leave a comment/reblog/send an ask if you enjoyed, your comments really do mean the world and keep me going <3
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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:
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#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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Rise of Skywalker
Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader
Reader gets captured by her former master. Things don't go as expected as they hash out old feelings.
Warnings: not gonna lie it's really dark in the beginning, Anakin redemption, hurt comfort, good after care, CNC, Rape, Dom Vader, he thinks it's her pulling him into it but it's really the force forcing them together, it's complicated and dark, but feelings confession, part of a larger series, vaginal sex, blow jobs, orgasms, I've never written anything like this before so hopefully it's alright.
Chapter One: Revenge
It was beyond stupid to stay on the ship when they were being boarded by Imperial soldiers. You should try to escape on one of the fighters. Deep down you knew it was too late for that. If you were in your own ship it would have been possible. Your shoulders tensed as the Imperial ship came closer, you recognized a Force signature you’d certainly wanted to avoid. It wasn’t quite the same as it had been when he was a Jedi, it was twisted but still somehow him. You handed the ship over to someone else and grabbed your bag.
You never got the chance to go up against your former master. Something that Obi-Wan had said you should feel grateful for. He knew the two of you had more going on than what was appropriate for a Master-Padawan bond. To fight against someone you love, well, Obi-Wan still wasn't the same man. He was empty, a shell of what he once was.
You felt disgusted with yourself. You wanted to hurt him, knowing whatever damage you did would only be a fraction of the pain he had caused you. You wondered when this life would ever leave you behind.
His presence moved through the ship and you were sure that the plans beamed to them were going to be discovered. Another failed attempt. You hadn't been aware of their plan when you had agreed to pilot the ship. It was supposed to be a diplomatic mission.
“Just let him take me.” You had told the rebel leader. Her face pinched in annoyance.
“You do not understand what he’s capable of -” She started but you cut her off.
“No, you don’t understand now fuck off.” You snapped at her, she felt guilty that someone innocent would be sacrificed for her plan. You moved towards the landing bay. You turned the corner in the final hallway, smoke billowing everywhere from the blasters having been fired. He stood tall at the end of the hall. His features were masked but his presence was shaken by your gaze.
“Take her to the detention block.” When he finally spoke his voice was metallic and dark. Storm troopers flooded towards you and you went with them gracefully. You wanted to draw them off the ship and give these idiots a chance.
They checked you over once they got you into the cell. They took your bag, lightsaber, and blaster. You were truly a prisoner. Laying down the sleeping platform you tried to rest.
Meditation was never your favorite thing, but you knew that whatever happened next you would need your strength. Your mind went the same way it always did when trying to mediate. Memories flooded you and your heart clenched tightly, but as it had been for so many years, there was no Obi-Wan to scold you and put you on the right path. No Anakin laughing at you. Just pain and an embarrassing amount of longing.
The Force seemed stronger around you than normal, maybe this was the path it wanted you to take. You tried to manipulate it but it wasn't interested in letting you be in control, it was pulling you and weather you liked it or not you were on this ride.
The silence was a welcome change, your life had become very complicated recently with trade route disputes and the rebels constantly trying to recruit you.
You thought about the last time you saw Anakin. Rage flared through you and you wondered when that wound would ever heal. It festered inside you. You could push it down, keep busy, but if he was ever brought up you would get sick almost immediately. He’d pushed you away. Sent you away from The Order and The War only to blow himself up and take the Jedi with him. You did come across the full prophecy years later while on a side quest in the Dagobah system. Anakin didn’t choose to become a Sith, at the core of his creation he was a Sith. Your stomach twisted painfully. This information had haunted you for years. Did this excuse him? Did it mean he was evil the whole time? Did he choose this life over you or did he have a choice at all?
You felt his darkness prodding at your mind. You kept yourself shut down tight, no way you were letting him in. A com chimed and his voice echoed in your cell.
“It seems you have something I want.” He spoke slowly. “Go to the ship's lower quarters.” The door slid open and you sighed. You moved through the seemingly empty hallways. You followed the trail he set for you in the force. Doors sprang open and eventually, you knew you were in his quarters. The air was different and the lights were dimmed. You moved into the space and decided it felt suffocating. Artifacts were displayed throughout the room and a desk near the window was covered in the contents of your bag. He had carefully laid out every single item. Even the charm he had carved you all those years ago was lying amongst medical supplies and various books. In the center of the room was a large orb, and in the center a large throne-like chair. The rest of the room went to the right and was obscured from your view.
Once satisfied with your observation of the room you finally dragged your attention to the masked figure sitting on his throne.
“You called?” You said calmly. His gaze was hidden in his mask but you could feel it resting heavily against your skin.
“How have you been?” He asked in a dead voice. The sound of it was created to frighten people, it was nothing like Anakin's voice. You cocked an eyebrow at him and moved closer. “It’s not like you to be captured so easily.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, I never finished my training.” You said hoping it bothered him. You tried not to show him any emotion knowing it would only delight him. You looked out the window.
“I thought maybe you had come to me for that reason.” He said and you snapped your head to him.
“I’d die first.” The words were coated in venom. You wanted to fight him. He made an exasperated noise that reminded you of who he used to be.
“Fuck me.” You knew how the words were intended but the suite spoke them as a request rather than a whisper under his breath.
“Maybe I will.” You snapped back. It was an overused joke, said hundreds of times all those years ago. But this wasn't your Master, this monster before you was a stranger. He looked at you for a moment longer and you hated how hard your heart was hammering. You were waiting for his attack. Your mind had half a hold on your lightsaber across the room. The force was vibrating through you while also being completely resistant to your request.
His large gloved hands moved to the sides of his sleek black helmet. The sound of air escaping sounded and he pulled the top half off. Your hand immediately reached towards him before you dropped it at your side. The state of his skin made you want to throw up. It was badly damaged, but it looked fresh. As if he had just fallen into lava yesterday. He took the bottom half of his mask off. Then he worked on unfastening his top.
“What are you doing?” You said in a high-pitched tone. You wanted him to cover himself, you didn't want your heart to reach out to his obvious suffering. You didn't want him to have Anakin’s features.
“Can’t fuck you in all this.” There was a collar around his neck that kept his voice the same. His eyes were red and they burned into your skin. You realize then that he’s serious. Panic washes through you, but there isn't a clear escape. Your mind is still preoccupied by the sight of his damaged flesh and prosthetic arms. They were metal, just like his hand used to be. You assumed he would have had them replaced with the new kind of prosthetics. He kept his gloves on and motioned for you to come up the steps to him.
“Don't lie to me Padawan.” He growled. “I can feel you pulling at me in the force.” His voice made you shiver but it wasn't you pulling on the force, the force was pulling you.
You resisted then felt his force presence grip you. Your clothes started to move off of you and you tried to fight him.
“Come to me.” He said and you resisted now almost naked. His eyes feasted on your form and you didn't know how but you were going to make him pay for this. While your mind was frozen with rage and fear your body was more than happy to fall into him. He pulled you across the room till you were in front of him. It was hardly fair to be naked and displayed in this way. He’d stripped you down and was now enjoying the sight of you, sitting comfortably on his throne, legs spread. No way he would actually force you into this, but then again there was a running list of things you thought he would never do. Unfortunately, when he checked an item off of it he tended to do it with as much dramatic flare as possible.
“I won't.” You said firmly.
“You will.” His voice was tauntingly calm. He pulled you onto his lap and you tried to break his grasp on you. He had undone his pants and you realized this was actually happening. “You have something I want.” He whispered causing your body to shudder. To your horror he gripped your hips tightly. You felt your body coming undone in his presence. The force was useless, it was pulling you to together. You could feel it now, he could bend it but he couldn't control it entirely. It pulsed around you pushing you further towards him, preparing your body.
The head of his cock pressed against your entrance you expected it to hurt. His goal was to hurt you, to punish you, and probably get you to spill about rebel plans. This was a torture session. But as he pulled your hips down you could feel how wet you were. Your body opened to him easily. The feeling of being stretched out for the first time in years overwhelmed you. His eyes are red so deeply clouded with rage, something inside you broke as he bottomed out. You wanted to see his brown eyes. You wanted him to be Anakin. Your face flushed at this realization and he groaned.
“Even now you still need me” The words turned your face red with embarrassment and shame. They cut you. But there was no anger in your body, only need.
Vader settled himself in your tight cunt.
“Move.” His deep voice commanded. It was beyond cruel to force you down on his cock only to make you fuck yourself on it. Your hips moved as if working on muscle memory. You moved slowly and every time you bottomed out on him he moaned. The sound made you pick your hips up and do it again. You would probably do it forever if it meant feeling this again. The pleasure he gave made your mind hazy.
He did something unexpected, his hands were large enough that he could move his grip slightly and brush your clit with is thumb. Just then he used his other hand to push your hips down. His cock reached deeper inside you and you felt it swell within your tight walls.
“Show me how bad you’ve missed me.” He commanded and your body responded to his touch. You came, walls collapsing against his cock, you felt his seed flood inside you. Your body helped him off, just like it used to. You felt your defenses fall, as your forehead pressed against his shoulder. He moved within your mind pulling from you your worst memories. He searched for something inside you and his grip on your mind hurt. Years flashed before your eyes and he gripped your hips tighter and tighter as you relieved your worst moments. He growled as every part of you was in submission to him once again.
He picked you up and pulled you down. He was using your body now, and you hated how easy it was for him. You did nothing while he lifted you and slammed you down on his cock. The pressure started to build inside you again.
“Cum.” He commanded and you felt your orgasm grip you tightly. Your pussy choked on his cock, and he continued to move you through it. Once again he filled you. You were too far gone to push back into his mind but you could feel a certain ache in his chest. One that belonged to you. Tears formed in your eyes as you felt his emotions but not his thoughts.
You felt his force presence wrap around your body. You laid back in it like it was bathwater letting it caress you. You were fully on display and watched his eyes devour where your pussy swallowed his cock. He loved how you were on display for him, he loved pleasuring you. His feelings for you were deep and consuming. This thumb found your clit and you bucked your hips against him. He remained seated moving in and out of you slowly, eyes focused on how his cock fit inside you.
Eventually, he stood. He set a ruthless pace, hammering into you. But in your half conscious state, you could feel that every time his emotions peaked into rage it would quickly turn to something warmer. He hated that he couldn't hate you, that he couldn't hurt you. That as badly as you needed him, he needed you even more. While his grip and pace were rough, his force presence was soft. Touching you in the ways he missed being able to touch you. He was touch starved and wild with your body.
You felt his need for you and choked on it as if it were a hand on your throat. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks as those deepest needs inside of you were finally held. You finally felt at home.
“Master.” The word rolled off your lips and then you couldn't stop saying it. You said it as if his old title could somehow bring him back to you. His voice was deep and he moaned loudly at your acceptance of him. He attacked your clit and your body was pulled under fully. Your vision was gone, and your ability to breathe was gone. You felt like you were going to die, maybe that was his desired outcome. You came for what felt like an eternity as he pumped more and more of his cum inside you. Finally, it’s grip on you ended and you felt him pull your limp body to his chest. His arms wrapped around you, the cold metal reminding you of what had been lost forever.
He held you tightly and you realized you were still crying. He tried to soothe you but the pain was inescapable. It took you a long moment to understand what it was. You weren't grieving him, you were feeling him. The pain coursing through his body at this moment. It ran the length of his spine and radiated out to what amount of limbs he had left.
Take this off - you demanded through the newly established force bond. You felt him hesitate before he realized he was hurting you too.
I don’t know if I can - He tried to unclasp it, only then did you feel his fear and then acceptance. It could be the only thing keeping him breathing, and yet he undid it regardless. Even if he died he had gotten his last wish. He held his breath and took the collar off. Breathing was challenging but not impossible without it. The pain diminished and you took a deep breath.
You took the collar from him and examined it, you quickly dropped it to the floor in horror. It had been designed to attach into his spinal column, disrupting his peripheral nervous system. The radiating pain finally stopped. Your fingers ran across the raw skin of his neck and you shuddered at his increased pain. You could also feel his pleasure, so starved for touch that he could adore your touches even if they caused him tremendous pain.
Take it all off - you urged him knowing it was the cause of most of his pain. He reluctantly pulled out of you and placed you on the edge of his desk. He slowly removed the rest of the suit and you felt him get lighter. You took in the full extent of the damage. The suit had been designed to dig into his flesh causing it not to heal properly. Your mind was still hazy but you reached out with the force and pulled a container of healing salve. It was so easy to feel and use the force now it felt strange to you.
No - He realized what it was the moment it landed in your hands. He picked you up quickly and carried you to the bathroom. He placed you down on the countertop and got a warm washcloth. He cleaned you carefully, then began to wash the rest of your body. His fingers run over the bruises forming on your skin. You could feel his distaste for the new scars that had been etched into your skin since the last time he saw you naked.
“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. His voice. Anakin’s voice without that stupid collar. You squeezed your eyes shut feeling it run through you. He sighed feeling your chest split open for him.
He carried you once again through the space into a smaller room. It had a large bed covered with black silky sheets. He set you down in it carefully. He could feel your arousal at his tenderness and he planned to fully enjoy it despite having just washed you.
You used the force to pull him down this time. You got him on his back and straddled him. You could feel his disapproval but didn’t care. You grabbed the container of salve and started with the deep gashes in his neck. He let out a sound of relief and you covered his scalp and face before moving to his torso.
You felt him let his guard down completely, you had free run of his thoughts as you treated him.
“Anakin.” You had never used his first name and it felt strange in your mouth. His body tensed but you continued. “I don't blame you.”
The words may have been more for yourself than him. His hands gripped the sheets and you could feel how much pain he was in at your words. But when you could feel someone's heart it made sense. You had known of the prophecy in it’s entirety for around three years, and only now could you feel what they actually ment.The years of slavery, The Order - you felt his last interaction with you. How he had insisted you leave The Order. Leave the war. Only now did you understand what he was trying to protect you from. The loss of your companionship only made it easier for Palpatine to pull him in. All he wanted was order and control. After being in pain his whole life it made sense. Palpatine’s warning to him that you would die in battle rang through his mind and it was your turn to grip the sheets and clench your jaw. His last fight with Obi-Wan, how much he hated himself for it. Dark memories of his surgery came in bursts and it felt as if you were experiencing it with him. Every memory after that was coated in a thick syrup of pain. Palpatine's rage and manipulation are so clear to you now, the way he regularly lashed out and tortured Anakin.
The moment Palpatine told him you were dead. The feelings he felt in that moment hit you. He had really thought you were gone all this time.
I didn't intend to show you that - he sounded deeply uncomfortable.
I guess you had something I wanted as well - Before he had a chance to react and ruin all the carefully placed salve, you got down between his legs. You felt his vulnerability and knew that it was likely to snap sending him back into his cave, further into the Sith. You didn't fancy having to fight him after your muscles felt like jello. You closed your mouth around him wondering how you used to do this. It was sloppy and uncoordinated as you tried to remember how to get him down your throat.
His mind moved back to the first time you had ever done this. You re-lived your shared memory. It was late and you had been training well passed when you should have been. After years of unresolved tension, when you had him pinned on his back, you moved into the same position you were now. You’d read your first romance novel and couldn’t stop reimagining the scenes with your master. You begged him to let you do it. You wanted to please him and feel pleasure so badly it was driving you mad. He’d let you, but only for a moment before forcing you on your back and eating you out. He hated taking from you if he wasn't also giving you pleasure.
“Tell me I was the last.” He said before groaning deeply as you moved him passed your gag reflex.
Last, and only - You hated yourself for it, but his abandonment had twisted you up so badly you could never trust another to get that close again. You felt him slip into ecstasy at this revelation. Quickly he pulled you hair and dragged you off his cock with a pop as his head slid from your lips. He pulled you up onto the bed with the force and you landed on the soft sheets. The salve was dry and you thanked him for waiting.
He moved inside you quickly then stopped. The feelings vibrating through the both of you were so strong. There was still the towering darkness in him that you left untouched. You had some of Anakin back, that would have to be enough for tonight.
Search your feelings - he gasped. You did and could feel it pulse through you. The force was moving in both of you in a way you had never felt before. It was harsh and raw, it was something bigger than the living force. Something deeper. The realization of what it was choked you.
Love - Not something Sith did. Not like this. Not pure like what was running through the both of you. He fucked you slowly, and you felt his surprise when you kissed him. He moved in and out of you with a tenderness that brought you over the edge in a different way. Something had permanently bonded between the two of you. Separating was impossible, but which side would win out. Would you be Sith? Or Jedi? Or your preferred option of nothing.
This orgasm left you drained. There was nothing more you could do tonight. Your mind was gone, vision blurry with sleep. Your eyelids became heavy and you felt him get up. He came back with a damp cloth and cleaned you once more. You could feel his fascination with your skin and wanted to ask him about it but couldn't.
________
Vader had pushed you too far. Your mind collapsed from all the feelings and sleep took you. He held you tightly in his arms only drifting off for an hour at a time. He would wake up startled having to check that you were still real. Then he’d have to check your pulse, feeling it with the force until he would drift off again. The force was taking him on a different path. One he had given up on long ago. But he knew that you were stubborn, he had his way with you last night but tomorrow would be a different story. You would either go with him back into the light or leave him. The thought of losing this power crushed him, but knowing he could be loved again would be worth it.
A feeling overtook him and he realized he would do anything to live within your love for him. The way he had treated you was unforgivable, and yet you had so carefully tended to his wounds. Even after he had just inflicted wounds on your own flesh you still cared for his. He pulled the pot of salve from his nightstand and carefully applied the last of it to the deep purple bruises he had left on your flesh.
He felt sick. He went to the dark side to end the war and prevent your death. He had ensured that you were safely away before crossing over. Palpatine had told him you were dead. He’d believed it, unable to feel you in the force till that ship had come into range. He wanted you to be untouched by his evil and last night he had all but raped you with it. Forcing your body to betray your mind. If he could get up without waking you he would have gone to the bathroom and vomited. The pain he felt was so great he felt you jump in his arms. Your head lifted from his shoulder. Your hair was a mess and your eyes could barely open, puffy from crying.
Does it hurt - I can put on more salve. - Your words were hazy even in the bond.
Go to sleep - he pushed away his frightening thoughts and tried to be calm to sooth you. Your head fell against his shoulder and you were out cold again.
He didn't have to do right by The Order, Obi-Wan, or Palpatine. He just needed to do right by you with what time he had left. The force was strong with you and your choices, so he made the choice to follow
Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan
#anakin skywalker#star wars#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker x reader smut#dark anakin skywalker#dark darth vader#darth vader#darth vader x reader#darth vader smut
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Incorrect quotes pt.2
Mw2 x male reader
Genre: crack
Characters: price, gaz, Alejandro, ghost, Rodolfo, soap
Warnings: none
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Price: any cute things to call ur partner?
Alejandro: sugar
Ghost: honey
Soap: flour
Y/n: milk
Gaz, way to exited*: 1/2 lb of butter
Y/n: stir
Soap: pour into a pan
Alejandro: ……. Preheat to 350 degrees
Price: oh my god
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141 was visiting y/n’s lab but they don’t really trust him*
Soap fucking around in y/n’s lab*: is this a lightsaber? *a dangerous laser*
Y/n: No- it’s not a lightsaber
*gaz almost hits y/n with a bat*
Y/n to gaz*: enough with the bat! Look if I wanted to hurt you I would’ve done it already, because if I’m being perfectly honest with myself you have a very punchable face. *lifts shirt and reveals bullet wound*
Gaz: OH MY-
Y/n: *groan* gah that bullets went straight through that’s good-
Soap: wait, wait, wait, wait bullet? You were shot?
Y/n: yeah- no actually, no, I was stabbed. With a bullet what do you think you Morron
Soap: I’m the morron? You were the one who was shot!
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Y/n to soap*: god it’s like you traded ur brains for those muscles…
Soap: stares*
Y/n: it’s a shit deal..
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Soap and y/n sitting in a cell*
Soap: so, who should we call?
Y/n: probably ghost but I feel safer in the cell
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Alejandro to y/n*: I dare you to-
Ghost: y/n isn’t allowed to take dares
Rodolfo: why not?
Y/n: apparently I have “no regards for my own personal safety” or smth
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Short one :))
FEM ALIGNED DNI
Revolving is greatly appreciated:)
#mw2 x male reader#mw2 x reader#mw2 cod#mw2 x you#soap mw2#ghost mw2#call of duty mw2#captain john price#alejandro vargas#rodolfo cod#rodolfo parra
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Adorable
Pairing: Luke Skywalker x fem!Jedi!bi!reader
Summary: Luke and Y/N have had a special bond since she first found him unconscious on the Jundland wastes; however, their friendly thoughts about each other turn into deeper feelings soon enough, feelings that seem obvious to everyone but each other. Princess Leia has had enough of their obliviousness and, with the help of her counterpart Han Solo, decides to give them a little push in the right direction.
Warnings: set between A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back so SPOILERS, fluff, romantic tension, sexual tension, Luke being a shy and rambling mess, bi!reader
A/N: I'm writing this fic for @c4m3r4m4n, who fell in love with an idea drafted up by @dailydragon08 (to whom I give credit for the plot of the fic, thank you very much). I hope you like it :) also it's been a while since I've published, I feel like the ancient one has been awoken 💀💀
☆☆☆
"I won't go easy on you, Skywalker." Y/N taunted, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.
"I'm not asking you to." Luke countered with a smile, followed by the hum of his igniting weapon.
She smirked at his response, hoping that the duel would take his focus off her burning cheeks. The two bowed to each other and she didn't hesitate to deliver the first blow, raising her brows in surprise at how readily he lifted the weapon in front of him to block her. Y/N smiled as her green lightsaber clashed against her sparring partner's blue one, watching him deflect every strike with a look of concentration etched onto his face.
She was proud of how far Luke had come since he first held his father's lightsaber in his hands, nearly losing a limb to inexperience. He had made staggering progress in the last few months of training: looking back at the farm boy who almost chopped his arm off on accident, she noticed how he was slowly starting to rely on the Force as well as on his abilities, how he was starting to get out of his head and stop overthinking every single movement, every action and reaction.
Her gaze moved from their lightsabers to his face, the face that she adored so much. She adored his eyes that reminded her of the midwinter sky, holding the innocence of a young boy and an ever-present mischievous twinkle; his sandy blonde hair that drooped over his eyes when he looked down in shyness, a small smile playing at his lips; and most importantly, his heart of gold, his kindness, gentleness, and selflessness-
"Maker, are you all right?!" Luke exclaimed, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"
Just then the pain in her hand registered in her brain, and she looked down to see a cut across her palm. It wasn't serious, just a small wound, but she found it cute that he worried so much.
"Luke, it's okay, it's just a cut," she said in an attempt to calm him. "I've hurt myself dozens of times before."
"But... but I'm the one who hurt you..." he mumbled, his sad puppy eyes looking up at her. "Come here, let me clean it."
"Really, Luke, it's fine-" she started.
"Please?" He pouted with genuine guilt in his eyes.
She couldn't say no to him. It just wasn't in her. "Okay."
He walked across the room while she sat down and he came back with a medikit. He knelt down in front of her, making her breath hitch in her throat. He started to tend to her wound carefully, holding her hand with a gentleness she had never been touched or treated with before. He dabbed a piece of cloth on her hand, looking at her in guilt whenever she flinched.
"Sorry about this," he mumbled, grabbing the disinfectant. "This is going to sting a bit."
She hissed as the chemicals dropped into her open skin while Luke mumbled apologies and soothing words.
"Oh, come on. It happens." She dismissed.
"Still, I feel bad. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose, right? Physically or otherwise." He stated.
She felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the statement, the hope of her feelings towards him being reciprocated warming her heart. She mumbled an "I know" and looked at him, focused on the task at hand, his blonde locks flopping over his eyes. When he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her through his eyelashes, smiling softly at her to let her know he caught her staring. He shifted his gaze to her hand, hoping to hide the rosy blush creeping up on the apples of his cheeks, although he did so quick enough to miss her doing the same.
It was often that Luke got flustered when he was near her, and, even if he was very skilled at hiding it (at least from her), he never seemed to notice that she nearly always did the exact same thing. Every time he caught her staring, he felt his heart jump a little: it pleased him to know that she admired him, that she trusted him, that she cared for him. Whenever she would display any sort of affection towards him, he would feel a warm and tingly sensation spreading from his heart and tummy all the way to the tips of his fingers.
Luke was hopeful; most of the time he thought he was naive for believing a girl as wonderful and headstrong as Y/N could ever want a guy like him, so fragile and sensitive. He thought, no, he knew, that she was truly gorgeous, intelligent and strong-willed, and he also knew that she deserved much better than him, but he still wanted to make her happy and never once doubted his feelings for her.
"What are you thinking about?" She asked, sensing his mind wandering.
"Not much. Just..." He hesitated to finish his sentence. "...thinking about Ben. I wish I could have done something about it."
"Believe me, I do, too," she said sadly, apparently not seeing through his lie. "I miss him a lot. I can't believe I was so stupid to lose him right after I had found him again."
"Yeah, I know. He was important to you, wasn't he?" He asked tentatively, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the uninjured areas of her hand.
"He really was. When I was a child, I adored him. When I got in trouble, I always ran to hide behind his robes, and he smiled down at me a fondness that my parents had never looked at me with. I wanted nothing more than to be his Padawan," she sighed. "But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, was it?"
"I'm so sorry... I wish I had known," Luke said, smiling sympathetically. "But Obi-Wan or not, you turned out a better Jedi than I could ever be."
She smiled sincerely at him, appreciating the compliment that came from his heart, "You're really sweet, Luke. I bet you'll make a wonderful Jedi knight, too."
He giggled shyly, averting his gaze from her once again. He thanked her in a soft, shy voice that she found so adorable she could have melted into a puddle. "There, you're all set." He said as he bandaged her hand, tying up the loose end of the gauze on her palm.
"Thanks, Luke." She said, ruffling his hair.
"You're always welcome." He replied, hiding the blush rising to his face.
In a bout of courage, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing their cheeks together. He froze for a split second before wrapping his own around her waist, pulling her closer to him and inhaling her signature coconut scent. He could get drunk on her sweet smell that made him feel at peace. As she felt him get more comfortable, a mischievous thought entered her mind. She began to tickle his open armpits, making him yelp and squirm beneath her.
"Y/N, stop!" He laughed as she straddled him, pinning his wrists to the floor with one hand and using the other to tickle his stomach. He squealed and giggled, trying to get out of her grip, and as soon as she loosened her hold on his wrists, he flipped them on the sparring mat, landing her with a soft 'thump'. He threw one leg over the other side of her waist and pinned her wrists over her head in the same fashion as her. He aimed for her sides and she squealed, turning into a giggling, squirmy mess.
"Luke! You copycat!" She shrieked through her laughter.
He laughed, too, drinking in the pure joy of the moment, and noticed her face was red from happiness and laughter, as well as his, he assumed.
"Luke, Y/N, I need you to- oh..." Leia stumbled in, cutting herself off as she saw her two friends sharing an intimate moment. "Am I interrupting something?" She smirked.
Suddenly, they were both very aware of their position. Luke's eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat, messily getting up and fixing his hair. He helped Y/N off the ground and she dusted herself off, looking to Leia, who still had that knowing smile plastered on her face. "No! No, you're not."
"Yeah... anyway," she dragged the first word out in suspicion. "We have an impromptu meeting to be at in fifteen minutes, just enough time for you to get changed."
"All right, we'll see you there." Luke said, smiling politely at his friend and leaving the room. Y/N soon followed suit, as their rooms were fairly close, in fact opposite each other.
Leia rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. It was clear as day that the two of them were enamoured with one another, everyone could see it except them. She could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other, in how gentle they were with each other. They'd share so many little moments like this, yet they'd never make a move. It was infuriating, to say the least.
Leia walked out of the room and through the halls of the rebel base. She bumped into someone on her way.
"Woah, Your Highness, what's got you so upset?" Han asked, nearly sarcastically, but she chose to answer honestly.
"I just walked in on Luke and Y/N having a tickle fight," she said. "It annoys the life out of me when they act like a couple but they don't even see that they actually like each other."
"Ugh, I know. It's painfully obvious to everyone but them." He agreed.
"Hang on. Are you agreeing with me, Han Solo?" She said, not waiting for his response. "Since this is the first thing we actually agree about, care to do something about it?"
He raised his eyebrows, interested. "What did you have in mind?"
"Oh, nothing too serious, just a bit of messing with them. Maybe they'll stop being so dense." She said.
"Good idea," he nodded, giving her credit. "We start after the meeting."
"Deal."
...
Y/N smiled softly at Luke and closed the door behind her, exhausted from the meeting. She huffed a breath and looked for a shirt and pants in her wardrobe, but couldn't find a sweater for the life of her. She looked through all of her room for her favorite green sweater, under the bed, behind the door, even beneath her covers, but there was no trace of it.
She hated that it disappeared, but she decided she was going to look for it after she's had a proper rest after a two-hour-long meeting. She knocked on Luke's door, who opened it and smiled softly at her. "Hi."
"Hi. I can't find my green sweater, do you have one I could borrow?" She dared to ask. It was an intimate gesture, surely, but she wanted that nap, and the only thing that was more comfy to sleep in than her favorite sweater was a warm sweater with Luke's soothing smell all over it. "Assuming you don't need it, of course."
"Um, sure," he said, rummaging through his clothes. "Here."
He handed her a white hoodie with no zipper. It was so soft and warm, it made her cheeks flush in anticipation. She pulled it over her head and sighed at the feeling. The sleeves were a bit bigger on her, and she loved it. It felt like a warm and loving embrace. It felt like his embrace.
"Thank you, Luke, you're a sweetheart," she said and he blushed furiously, but she didn't have the energy to notice. "I'll be taking a nap now, but if you need a favor, ask me, okay?"
"Okay," his voice cracked. "Have a good nap."
She left his room with a thankful smile.
She snuggled up in her bed, wrapping her arms around herself, as if it was Luke hugging her. She breathed in his smell, making her sigh in content. The warm feeling and the soothing scent lulled her to sleep quickly enough, with the image of Luke holding her and warming her up with his body heat.
...
After letting her borrow his hoodie, Luke felt much closer to her. He fell harder for her, if that was even possible. And when he saw her snuggled up in his clothes, his brain went blank and he forgot his own name for a moment. He wanted to hug her, to warm her up and fall asleep beside her, then to wake up next to her and wake her with a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her lips.
He pushed the thought to the back of his head as he saw her heading for the same closet he was. "Hi."
"Hi. How was your nap?"
"Best nap I've ever had. Your hoodie is the most comfortable thing I've ever worn. I'll give it back right after I grab some stuff here."
"No, no, you keep it."
She felt her heart warm at his offer. "Luke, you love this hoodie..."
But I love you more. "But you're happy. And that makes me happy."
She smiled lovingly at him, "Thank you so much. Really."
"You're always welcome..." He said, hesitant to finish his sentence. "...starflower."
She turned to him and her smile widened at the nickname, a blush rising to her cheeks. She got on her tip-toes to try to reach an old book on the highest shelf, straining to try to grab it. Luke noticed her struggle and moved up to her, and with a little jump, he caught the book and handed it to her. She smiled thankfully at him and kissed his cheek softly, making him blush.
Their sweet moment was interrupted by the lock clicking. "Oh, damn it!"
Luke tried to force the door open but failed, and when he turned around to face her, he noticed how incredibly close they were. His chest nearly touched hers, and he could feel her breathing pattern as whenever her chest expanded, he could feel it brush his own.
"This is... convenient." She said, making him chuckle.
"Yeah... sorry I didn't pay more attention."
"It's not your fault."
A comfortable silence fell over them, and Y/N shifted into a more comfortable position, accidentally brushing over Luke's hips. He blushed and bit his lip at the contact. "Sorry!"
"It's- it's fine..." His voice cracked. He felt his pants tighten and he blushed a dark red, sweating a copious amount. He was already super embarrassed and ashamed about accidentally getting a hard-on, and he was fairly sure he'd die if she saw.
He shifted away to try to put some distance between them, but accidentally stepped on her foot. She flinched backwards and fell over. Luke swiftly caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. He pulled her up gently and his forehead was nearly touching hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the closeness between them. He wanted to brush the hair away from her face and kiss her until she was breathless, but he just didn't have the courage.
How ironic: Luke Skywalker, the man who destroyed the Death Star, couldn't strap on a pair and make a move on a girl. It was laughable, really.
He decided to test the waters by sliding his hands down to her hips in a featherlight touch. She felt something brushing her thigh and her eyes widened as she realized Luke was turned on by the situation, and decided to tease him a bit.
"Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"Is this your lightsaber or are you just really happy to see me?" She asked, a teasing edge to her voice as he tried to stutter out a response.
"I- I- I... uh, um... I..." He stammered, trying to think of a way to explain himself without sounding like a pervert. "I'm so, so, so sorry, I really didn't mean to, it was an accident... I really hope you could forgive me but if you don't want to talk to me ever again, I understand, I..."
He looked so cute, flustered about something that simple. She couldn't really see him all that well, but she was sure he was blushing the darkest red possible.
"Relax, Luke, I'm just teasing you," she giggled. "It's normal. It could have happened to any guy."
"Wha..? Really?"
"Of course. Honestly, I'm a little flattered." She smiled slyly, making him whimper in embarrassment.
"Could you do me a favor?" He asked. "Could you maybe... not tell anyone about this?"
"I'd never, Luke," she cupped his cheek and gently moved his face to make him meet her eyes. "It's going to be our secret."
He smiled softly at her. "Thanks for being so understanding."
Bravely, she leaned up and kissed his nose. "No problem."
Just as Luke started to gather enough courage to lean down to kiss her, the lock started rattling. The two snapped their heads in the direction of the door as it opened to reveal Han and Chewbacca on the other side.
"What in the Maker's name are you two doing in here?"
Chewie growled suggestively.
"Shush, Fuzzball, someone locked us in here." Luke dismissed.
He growled again in an attempt to sass Luke.
...
Y/N thought back to her moment with Luke as she sat with her friends on the Falcon. The hopes of him feeling the same way about her rekindled when he got aroused, but she was almost sure that any guy would have been turned on by the closeness in that sort of situation.
Luke surprised himself at how comfortable he was with her after that awkward situation. Maybe if he was braver and not that hopeless, his arousal could have taken the status quo to the next level. After all, if there was anyone he wanted to be touched by, kissed by and held by, it was her. Everything from her soulful eyes to her intelligence, and even her plush lips made him melt-
"Kid, snap out of it!" Han called, making Luke do a double-take on the controls of the Falcon.
"Huh- what?" He blubbered, blushing.
"Could you scooch, please?" Leia asked and Luke complied, sliding onto the chair next to Y/N. He gave her a shining smile and looked at the controls. "Thanks."
Y/N reciprocated his grin, thinking back on the cuddly feeling of his hoodie cocooning her and lulling her to sleep.
"Excuse me..." Leia said and leaned over to Y/N's area to pull a lever. Luke leaned to the side and felt the back of his head rest against a soft cushioning.
"Um, Luke..." Y/N said hesitantly and Luke's eyes widened when he realized he had leaned his head on her breasts.
"Oh, stars-" he said and swiftly got up from his seat, red as a tomato and paced back and forth. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose! I would never do anything like this to you on purpose! Not that I don't find you attractive enough to- I need to lie down..."
"Kid, for fuck's sake, stop talking." Han said and Y/N chuckled at Luke's antics, shaking her head fondly. She was certainly flustered to have his head on her chest, but him trying to explain himself was too funny not to laugh at.
Meanwhile, Leia watched the scene unfold, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. She gave Han a side eye, to which he shook his head in exasperation. They had set him up so perfectly and he still managed to screw it up. "All right, I'm going to go lie down. And make sure Luke didn't die of self-loathing." She waved goodbye to her friends and walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Leia looked at Han, clenching her jaw.
"This isn't working. Why isn't this working?" She asked.
"I have no idea. They can't even seem to acknowledge that they both enjoyed the closest thing they ever had to sexual contact." He rolled his eyes.
"I think it's time to pull out the big guns." Leia said and Han tilted his head in curiosity.
"What do you suggest?"
"You have to come on to Y/N. And don't you stop until Luke is red with anger and wants to hit you."
"All right." He patronized, laughing at the thought of Luke trying to punch him.
...
Luke always got along with Han, but right now every word that came out of his mouth made him clench his fists, knuckles turning white.
He couldn't believe he was actually flirting with Y/N.
After encouraging him to make a move all this time, he felt betrayed and fairly angry that he was going after the love of his life even if he clearly had a thing for Leia. He didn't care if he was doing it to prove a point or he was sincerely into her, but he hated it nonetheless.
It started out small, with innocent touches paired with "trouble never looked so goddamn fine", or "I'd do anything for a woman with a knife", all of which made Luke more confused than jealous. But as it escalated into more blunt compliments and pick-up lines, he could barely holding together. At first maybe he chewed on his cheek and pretended not to listen, then he started avoiding eye contact with either of them, and he currently grumbled or growled lowly at everything he said. He was a little relieved to see her sass him in response to his comments, though, his grip on the arm of the chair faltering slightly whenever she responded in a sarcastic way.
Until he had had enough.
"Smile is the second best thing you can do with your lips."
Luke clenched his jaw so hard it could have snapped clean. He struggled to control his angry, shaky breathing as he got up and grabbed Han's arm to pull him to another room.
"Okay, what the fuck, Han!?"
"What?" He said, trying his best to hide the smirk of satisfaction that threatened to creep up on his lips.
"Cut it out. You know I like her, why are you doing this?!" He snapped.
"Maybe I recently saw the light," he shrugged. "Look, you're clearly nowhere close to making a move, so why shouldn't others take a shot?"
Luke opened his mouth to retort, and then closed it. He had a point. If he didn't do something about it, he was going to lose her. And he couldn't afford to lose her to Han. If she was going to end up with someone other than him, he'd prefer that she end up with Leia.
"Fine." He spat, storming out of the room.
He rushed to open a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of alcohol, chugging a questionable amount of it. "What are you doing?"
"I'm clearly not drunk enough to do this," he said, pulling away from the bottle. "Yum, mouthwash that burns."
Han bit back a laugh as Luke clumsily walked to Y/N and pulled her away to speak in private.
"Luke? What's going on?" She asked, not even pointing out his apparent intoxication.
"I can't- I can't do this anymore, Y/N!" He said and her brows furrowed with confusion. "I can't stand to see Han treat you like this so forgive me for going to such drastic measures to prove a point!"
"What are you-" she was cut off by Luke storming over and crashing his lips on hers with such force that she stumbled back. As his action registered in her brain, she melted into the heavenly sensation. She ran a hand through his blonde locks, earning a small gasp from him into the kiss.
As she pulled away, he chased her lips for a split second before slowly opening his eyes, half-lidded gaze shifting to the string of saliva still connecting them. "I'm sorry, I- it was a momentary lapse. But I like you. I like you a lot. And I can't stand the thought of you being with Han. And I just wanted to tell you before you make a choice."
"Oh, Luke..." she said, smiling brightly as she caressed his cheek lovingly. "I don't like Han. He's a great friend but all those pickup lines were scaring the living Force out of me."
He giggled softly, though his face dropped at her lack of response. "I... I get it." He said quietly, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'll leave you alone."
He turned around and walked to the door, shoulders slouched in defeat and she shook her head in fondness, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "Luke, you adorable, oblivious idiot."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled their noses together before giving him a softer, sweeter kiss. This time there was no desperation, no urge, no rush. Just the need to make him feel loved and make him see that she doesn't want anyone else but him.
"I, um-" he cleared his throat. "I liked that very much."
"I like you very much." She said, pecking his cheek repeatedly. He giggled like a little boy, blushing. "You seriously thought I'd pick anyone over you? And that the first person would be Han?"
"No, I thought the first person would be Leia," he said and Y/N laughed loudly. "But, yeah, pretty much."
"Normally I'd say that's not true but Leia is gorgeous," she joked and Luke laughed softly, proud to have made her laugh. "And by the way, the list goes you, Leia, literally anyone in the world, and then Han."
He smiled at her, moved by the comment and amused by the joke, and brought her closer to him.
"Why am I after Leia?"
"Because she's so much hotter than you!" She defended.
"Thanks, Y/N!" The princess called, making Luke laugh and Y/N join in.
"You wound me, Y/N." Han said in mock offense.
"Are you guys together yet?" Leia asked, walking in. Luke wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, smiling proudly as he pulled her closer. She smiled too, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You are?!"
They both nodded, happiness flooding every single inch of them.
"That's amazing! I'm so happy for you!" She said, hugging Y/N and pecking her cheek. "Took you long enough. The way you looked at her without doing anything was becoming very frustrating." She hugged Luke and ruffled his hair.
He rolled his eyes and turned to his new girlfriend, pressing their foreheads together.
"I'm glad I did."
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En Garde!
summary: you interrupt your shopping trip with Jenna for a little fun.
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
words: 800
tw: none, just more fluff and my terrible writing
a/n: another little fic written at like 3am... had this one in the drafts for a while cause I'm not completely happy with it, hopefully it's not too bad
"y/n, will you-?" Jenna turned around only to find you missing. "y/n?"
She scanned up and down the aisle, but nothing. You'd disappeared. She wasn't too concerned, definitely confused, but she had a feeling you'd be back shortly. Much like a puppy, you often got distracted by the simplest of things, occasionally wandering off without her noticing, but you always came back.
Jenna kept pushing the cart down the aisle, grabbing things from the grocery list as she went, wondering where on earth you could've gone off to.
She was about to turn down the next aisle when something poked her in the back. She jumped, spinning around to see you standing there with a cheeky grin.
"En garde!" You yelled, putting up your worst fancy accent and waving the lightsaber in her direction.
She wanted to roll her eyes and tell you to put the thing back so the two of you could finish shopping already, but you were clearly having the time of your life.
"y/n-" she sighed, stifling a laugh, "where'd you even find that?"
"Up your ass and around the corner."
The look on her face made you instantly regret those words. You had a feeling you'd pay for that later. But it was all in the name of fun, you both knew that.
You could see the exhaustion building behind her eyes, frustration at your antics. But you could also see the smile she was trying to fight off. "How are you legally an adult? I swear I'm dating a child."
"Noooooo. Because if I'm a child then you're a pedophile, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna get lectured by a pervert. Besides, I'm older than you."
"Well, you sure as hell don't act it."
You gasped, putting your hand on your heart as you faked offense, making sure to be as dramatic as possible.
"How dare you! That's it. I challenge you to a duel!"
"A duel? Like right now? In the middle of the store?"
You smirked. You had her right where you wanted her. Jenna was never one to back down from a challenge, even a childish one.
You pulled another lightsaber from behind your back handing it to her.
"En garde!" You shouted, holding the plastic sword out in front of you like you were about to engage in a battle for life and death.
She rolled her eyes, but the blatant smile on her face said she was anything but annoyed.
She flicked the blade out on the toy, holding it out in front of her similar to you, though her stance seemed much more professional than yours. But maybe that should've been expected from an actor, especially one experienced in fencing.
You swung your sword and she blocked it with hers, the blades cracking each time they made contact. You did that back and forth a few times before she got a bit cheeky, swinging lower at your side. You blocked the attack and quickly swung even lower to see if you could catch her in the leg. She sidestepped the attack and quickly aimed for your other shoulder, which you were just barely quick enough to block.
"Ahhh, very good, but your skills are no match for the power of the dark side," you jeered, her blue lightsaber held against your red one in defense.
"That's what you think,"
Somewhere in your chest, your heart skipped a beat. She wasn't exactly a Star Wars fan before you two met, but after forcing her to watch some of the movies with you, she started to pick up on a few things. The thought of her enjoying something simply because you did put butterflies in your stomach.
You hadn't even realized you'd zoned out, thinking about how much you adore the girl in front of you. The sight of a blue lightsaber swinging in front of you brought you back to reality.
Before you could react the tip of the sword poked you in the stomach. You clutched your 'wound' and fell to the floor, crying out in fake agony. "Nooooooooooo-"
You lolled your head to the side, one arm on your chest and the other limply at your side as you played dead.
"Alright, get up," she said after a few seconds, bopping you on the head with the tip of the sword, "Someone's gotta finish the shopping, and I'm not about to do it all by myself."
"Fineeeeee," you groaned, sitting up and dusting yourself off.
"God, you're a dork,"
"Yeah, but I'm your dork."
"And I wouldn't have it any other way." She pulled you in for a kiss, simple yet sweet.
"I love you,"
"I love you too,"
"Now go out these back."
"Fineeeee," you sighed, sulking off to go out the toys back.
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x gn!reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x reader#void-wolfie
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Sometimes I just remember that oh right it's apparently a slightly controversial opinion that I think if Palpatine hadn't been involved at all that Anakin could've been perfectly happy and fulfilled with the Jedi.
Like just from rots we see Anakin want to follow Jedi ideals, to seek advice and even help from the very Jedi that fandom loves to act like he hates and who hate him in return, and we see the Jedi around him actually have a lot of respect for him! But every time he makes progress Palpatine is whispering in his ear and pulling out the stitches and re-opening the wounds, making it near impossible for him to actually grow as a Jedi and instead he grows closer to Falling. Not to mention the war, which was orchestrated in part to actively challenge the Jedi's morals and make them make bad and questionable choices.
Plenty of Legends canon and even current canon in things like the marvel comics show Anakin actively wrestling and considering Jedi philosophy, the pros and cons, and working through all his trauma and trying to figure out what's right for him and what the Jedi code actually means. People act like he only ever does lightsaber training and that he never picked up a book in his entire padawanship (which not only is just not how the Jedi Order works from what we see but honestly is just a boring take on the character imo).
Like, I just don't think that Anakin is actually incompatible with the Jedi Order! I think he could've thrived there if he wasn't being actively sabotaged and also had more time.
#anakin skywalker#jedi positive#pro jedi#anyway i also dont think that the jedi order is incompatible with romance just that anakin has trauma about#his interpersonal attachments and that he didnt get a great teaching on it in canon bc obi wan needs therapy#nd so never really discussed it with anakin#which is not necessarily a shot at obi wan i just think that entire lineage has communication issues lmao#like obi wan has both trauma and oin legends actual healthy relationships and exes he no longer dates#who were jedi!#but like he doesnt actually discuss this with anakin?#and tbh thats the most canon to me lmao obi wan just doesnt realize he needs to talk about it or maybe how?#anakin#sw meta#sorta lmao#jedi order
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