#Buzz Droid

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith - Buzz Droid Concept Art by Ryan Church

[swtechspecs]

Colicoid Creation Nest Pistoeka Sabotage Droid ("Buzz Droid")

Source: The New Essential Guide to Droids (Del Rey, 2006)

[nemesisthetoy]

Love the cartoony stylization of the Droid Army here, very nice!

I especially love how the Homing Spider came out!

Thought I show off some battle droids here.

Happy late May the 4th

[yunharlaquin]

a wild jaina appears on your dash, ready to cause solo levels of mischief......... what do you do?

[uglygrievous]

my goobers

[doolallymagpie]

trying to find a good ship to graft onto a StarViper to extend the cabin space and create Aran Mereel's Bes'ulik, it's strangely difficult to find one that wouldn't feel too big or look really wrong (but at the same time, Bes is a horrid junkyard kitbash, so maybe i'm being too hard on myself)

[bumpscosity]

Speaking of star tours (was not speaking of Star tours) hot take but the boba fett section of geonosis is only good bc I like boba fett without that it’s with kashyyyk in the Somehow Found A Way To Make Star Tours Boring tier

[yandere-wishes]

˚｡✮ Yandere! Darth Vader {Anakin Skywalker} x Apprentice Reader

˚｡✮ Bad, bad news, One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse, Just add some friction, You are my strange addiction

˚｡✮ We've talked about Yandere! Anakin Skywalker falling for Padawan! Reader... But what about Vader falling for his acolyte/apprentice?

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ★⋆.˚

Vader isn't nurturing.

It feels almost sacrilegious to entertain the thought.

That's why it's so troubling when the galactic empire's staff take note of a smaller morbid figure trailing after the ebony monstrosity.

I can see there being many interesting scenarios in which Vader would pick an acolyte. The most heartwrenching and particularly curious case would be if his acolyte used to also be Anakin Skywalker's Padawan.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader searching for you across the galaxy. He feels your force signature reverberating inside him, calls out to it, tries to bind and morph it. A sardonic love letter he pens with rage and perplexion. Still, you always slip away. He keeps your hunt a secret, some ancient wound that's never healed right. The swing of your saber still haunts him, your satisfied grin as you land a blow on him. The force works in mysterious ways and Vader's desperation can't fully be reasoned. He's given up everything that Anakin once had. Forgone to an almost spiritual level. But you are the one pesky thing that still lingers. He likes to think that it's because he knows your true power. That you're a threat as long as you live.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader finally, finally finding you. Mesmerized by how much you've grown. You're rugged, wild. Some strange creature wearing the skin of the girl he once loved. You don't hesitate to attack, and Vader signs it off as a blessing. He needs a reason to hurt you, to drag you back kicking and screaming. He needs an excuse to push his fury between your bones and drown you in his sorrows. He needs revenge in the worst way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader winning because of course he does. He leaves you bruised and broken, bleeding on the soft grassy ground. Your eyes are so beautiful when they're filled with terror. Your voice melodic as you scream in agony as his saber severs your leg and arm. Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance. You left him, left him to face Obi-wan alone, left him to be mutilated and disfigured.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only coming to terms with who he is, and what he is as he's watching the medical droids repair your body. He can never escape Anakin, cause that's who he still is. Anakin hasn't died just grown. He's no longer the kid with a schoolboy crush on his pupil and supernovas under his tongue. He's swallowed the burning stars, let their fires and explosions paint him in shades darker than the nights on Tatooine. He runs a cybernetic hand across your head, feeling you for the first time in forever.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader training you once more. It's been months since your capture, months of brutal and tender torture. He's ripped you apart and rearranged you so meticulously. Picking favored parts to hem and sew with a buzzing red needle and dark doctrines. Only when Vader notes the red-rimmed golden shift flicker across your eyes does he know he's truly won. Your connection to the light is nearly completely severed. Your past is left to rot on the green planet. What stares back at him from the corners of the dark, damp cell is a creature forged of hate and malice. A sith in every way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only ever happy when he's with you. He's finally free to train you as he pleases, to touch you as he pleases, to kiss you as he pleases. He's taken you to ice worlds to bleed kyber crystals and to Mustafar to forge your new armor. He kisses you on a battlefield littered with the corpses of dead resistance soldiers. Metal clancks against metal all wretched sinister love. You're beginning to love this new master, he's everything Anakin had repressed, he's everything you have always feared. But the thing you must realize about fickle fears is that once you fall in love with them, you begin to lose yourself.

˚｡✮ Imagine Pulling up Vader's mask and kissing the burns across his face. Your kisses are laced with such passion and hate he feels like he's drowning in lava once more. He's brutal in the way he handles you, each touch leaving a plethora of bruises, singing I love you. You like the way each training session starts with a deep all-consuming kiss and ends with him using the force to smash your head into the ground as you laugh and laugh. His force signature is different now, you like the way it slithers across your body, all fire and pain, all destruction. Love the pain that comes with him, this grisly bloody love affair that makes the stars shutter.

The staff of the galactic empire, Find the little midnight creature all too bizarre.

She trails after their commander with vicious playful skips and plays uno with their lives. She twirls around the galaxy's most feared as if she's playing hopscotch.

The staff of the galactic empire doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror...

I think about how at the beginning of being Vader, Anakin was so quick to reject who he once was. Trying desperately to kill off any semblance of Anakin. But by the time of the Original Trilogy, he's sort of come to terms with who he is and who he once was. Anakin isn't really dead he's just grown stronger now, and in a strange way, he even seems to embrace his past as a Jedi, wearing it as - a not so obvious- badge of pride.

[n0tamused]

Midnight thought that popped into my head… If you watched Spirited Away, do you remember a bunch of little black soot balls that carried coal around? What if the reader also works at the academy and has made herself a bunch of those little robots to fetch tools when she needs them? Imagine working on something with these little goofballs running around, making high-pitched robot noises and being useful at the same time, what a dream. The second part is, what if some of them started running to Xiangli Yao's office (and Academy too) to get tools (screwdrivers, hammers, etc.) because they couldn't find them in our office due to some errors (or some other reason)? Which led to a funny little investigation of missing items? Honestly saw it as already established relationship, but could be used as push-to-confession maybe? Can definitely see something like this: -My little babies would never steal! -Your… babies? -Erm, never mind…

Honestly, use this however you like if you do, the possibilities are endless and fun, no matter how you twist it, I have just come up with an example.

A/n: this was awfully sweet, but even with that I didn't imagine it would turn out this long. I do hope this is what you had in mind. I really enjoyed writing this. And hey, first Xiangli Yao fic! Yipeeee

Contents: Xiangli Yao x Reader, she/her pronouns, fluff

Words: 4221

Ko-fi

Steel Hearts

Little pitter-patters of feet echo down the empty corridor, the sound accompanied by the low mechanical buzz that could be said to be a coo or a call. Xiangli Yao had yet to get used to the new tiny companions around the Academy, although they made for an endearing sight when they got together to work. Xiangli Yao steps to the side of the corridor, slowing down his step as he notices a few Aideroids rush past diligently, carrying a few empty petri dishes, box of gloves and some unlabeled material samples. He tilted his head as they passed by, clicking and clacking without paying him any mind, like a line of ants as they made it straight for their queen - you. It would seem that the confusion of the recent incidents at the Academy have rubbed off on the Aideroids as well, otherwise known as Assistive Intelligence Droids, judging by how scattered they seemed after your own office has been subjected to a little... disaster, to put it plainly. It has pushed you to share an office with your colleague until the renovations are done, and while you had adjusted well, the little droids would always stop by the old office or by his own next to yours before finding you at last.

Xiangli Yao admired them and once he had run into a droid in the corner of his office that had gone down due to battery problems. He had fixed it up for you then. The droids weren’t admirable by looks alone, but by their design as well with their creator behind them. Although they seemed to be a nuisance of a sight for Mortefi, even he commented on their usefulness. The only thing everyone was against was to make them capable of flight. You agreed that the sight of so many droids buzzing about wouldn’t be quite comfortable.

He continued on into his office, looking over the report he had yet to finish, one he was looking forward to writing out. The half done pages reeked of promise and satisfaction, as they would come to represent the best part of the job in Xiangli Yao’s eyes. The end, the fruits of his labor. He hummed something low in his throat as he glimpsed an error in his grammar, making a mental note to fix it up later as he swung the door open and closed it behind it, failing to notice that the door had been creaked open already. Muscle memory brings his feet to his desk, and as he goes to put his papers down he is greeted by several singular eyes looking up at him, all scattered on and around his desk. He blinks at them in surprise, and for a moment they mirror his confusion and shock in equal measure, but as no command or response comes from his mouth, they swiftly return to their ‘work’ at his tools. One Aideroid was carrying the rubik's cube he liked to keep in his office, oftentimes fidgeting with it when he came into a slump during work hours. The Aideroid chucked it over the edge of the desk with a ‘kahooo’ and another similar sound came from below, where another droid caught the cube. Another droid was already halfway to the door with screwdrivers and small container of oil he uses to treat his prosthetic arm - had the door been unlocked, the little droid would have managed to escape the office with Yao’s belongings. 

“Hey, hey, hey- now, little friend. It seems you have plans for my things-” he speaks to the droid with a light laugh in his tone as he manages to pluck back the oil and screwdrivers from its clasping hands before it could truly clasp down. “Has Miss. (L/N) been in such desperate need of oil that she sends you to take mine?” 

The droid looks up at him and the lenses of its eye narrow and zoom in on the towering figure of Xiangli Yao, yet, ever loyal and determined to assist you, the droid lets out a disgruntled beeping sound, almost like a little howl. Its arms stretched upward, waiting for the tools to be given back to its hold. 

“Ah, no, my friend. I’m afraid I cannot give you these back” he says and turns towards the desk just as the droid carrying his cube walks by, and Yao swiftly takes the cube back as well, and then the microscope from the next droid, and a few pencils from the next few. By the time he’s up to his desk again, he feels as if he went through an attempted robbery, his arms full of his things and behind him he hears several voices of dissatisfied and demanding droids. He holds onto his lighthearted demeanor, a gentle and amused smile plastered over his lips as he sets back his belongings on his desk and back onto the shelves. “Miss. (L/n) would not want you to rob her colleagues, would she now? I know you don’t like returning to her with empty arms, but I can’t be giving you my own research and tools so easily” he tells the droids as if they’re a bunch of kids and for a moment he expects to be greeted with more protests as the droids all but stare at him in grave silence. Thankfully they do not pose more verbal danger, and scatter to climb onto one another and skillfully open the door before moving out again. Xiangli Yao can only stare at the space they occupied, still trying to acknowledge what has just happened. He was about to shake the thoughts of before he remembered the droids he passed in the corridor, now realizing the tools and materials they carried were his.

______________________________________________________

Black bolded letters lined every page, and page after page you scanned the book for the chapter you needed to fuel your brain for power which you desperately needed for this experiment. You sigh in disappointment as you find the chapter of your favorite book ripped out, leaving the next chapter as some distant tale you were yet to understand. You close the book with a thump and push it aside, returning to another set of letters on your research paper and the propped up tubes and test tubes and cylinders before you. Testing biological matter and the effects of the Waveworn Phenomena on them came with its limitations, but for all of those you managed to achieve quite a few breakthroughs in the last few years. 

You found yourself just short of other achievements, it was just an arms reach away yet you were stuck. Not understanding where you began to go over the same papers again, going through numbers, chemical formulas and the hypothesis at the start, but the important puzzle piece was yet to be revealed to your mind. The sound of small feet do not alarm you as they buzz behind you and move about the office. They came and went the entire day, bringing you your torn book and some other less important things at the moment, yet you acknowledged their need to be of help- it was in their code. Just like animals which flee or fight naturally when confronted with danger, the Aideroids wanted to help when confronted with your frown and furrowed brows. They knew something was amiss, so by bringing you all the tools and materials you previously praised them for, their droids’ minds hoped to see and hear the praise once more to know their daily task had been fulfilled. Yet, the last few days have been filled with your stagnant moods with not a sweet word in sight. The loss of the comforts of your own office was palpable even with the adjustments you’ve made - nothing can beat having your own space to do with as you please.

Your head hands low over the papers, forehead resting on your clasped palms as you let your eyes close. Searching for the answer deep in your mind, you fail to see the way forward and your mind swiftly wanders to imagery of the open fields, summer days and your favorite food stalls. Aideroids made their way up the side of your desk, carrying the microscope between them in their strong little arms, and as they set it before you with a small thump, you looked up to see it, a look of confusion falling over your eyes. “Now, why have you brought me this, AIDE?” you ask the droid group who coo at you in unison. “I already have a functional microscope..” you added, sighing at their attempt to assist you with no success. But before you can reprimand them and ask whose microscope they’ve taken, you see more of the droids climb up the desk with a glove box and unmarked materials sealed in small boxes. At that you were a bit more alarmed. Sitting up straight in your chair you feel a wave of anxiety come over you as you’re made to guess whose research they just snagged up with no pardon. “AIDE, where did you get this?” you asked as you took one of the sample bags one of the droids offered you. You carefully unpacked it and took a quick look inside, a bit more relieved to find it was only dirt samples from god knows where. But the other baggies held materials you weren’t trying to mess with, judging by their looks alone through the translucent bag. 

The droids coo and click, and on your watch monitor you can see the transcribed text that they were trying to convey. 

‘Xiangli Yao’s office, Baizhi’s office’.

You had to physically stop yourself from face palming at the sentence. Your little helpful companions resorting to stealing from your fellow colleagues, one of them a renowned genius? You thank god that most of them have already left the Academy for the day, and others were on break.

“Please, give the rest of those to me… I’ll have to give you another code input, this can’t happen again - you can’t just take other people’s belongings” you gently scold while the many pairs of eye just look at you, mechanically blinking and adjusting their lenses as they try to comprehend why you didn’t like what they’ve done. You have already gathered the things they took, carefully cradling the items in your arms as you tell them to stay in the office while you go and return them - hoping to also clear your mind with this brisk walk.

You turn the corner from your current office, closing the door behind you and your mind is running, hoping your droids haven’t done any damage, even if you have put all the necessary codes into their system that avoided damaging things, but who's to say they can’t malfunction or accidentally push somethin or-

“Ah! Xiangli Yao!” you nearly squeal as you run into him when you turn to go down the corridor leaning to his office, and like a kid caught with their hand in the candy jaw, you flush with items that are obviously his in your arms. You take a few steps back to put a more professional and comfortable distance between the two of you. You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping the warmth you felt wasn’t as visible on your skin as you imagined it to be. 

“Ah, Miss (L/N), it is you, and with quite an interesting assortment of things in tow” Yao greeted back, his eyes quickly catching on to the items in your hold, a warm smile pulling on his lips. “I was just about to pay you a visit. It would seem your Aideroids have been up to some mischief as of recent”

“Mischief?” you countered almost instantly, and be it fatigue or the knowledge that the droids weren’t mischievous by their nature, you almost took it as an insult. “Oh, you misunderstand. They aren’t mischievous, Xiangli Yao. They just.. need some code tuning” you added with a stubborn shake of your head, holding the items closer to your torso. 

“Oh? And is that why they have resorted to taking my things without being given permission beforehand?” Yao retorted, his voice a warm honey. Was he teasing you? 

You couldn’t muster up a laugh, your lips pressing together in a tight line out of some nervousness for feeling so cornered. “Xiangli Yao..” you began, sighing as you nearly trailed off - he had his point, yet you couldn’t let your little droids be subjected to any form of insults, even in jest! “That doesn’t mean they’re mischievous. Although their objective is flawed in execution, something I’ll have to fix later, I assure you they did not mean to deprive you of your own ability to conduct your work. This is why I have come to return your belongings by myself and.. apologies on their behalf - although the fault is also mine own for not having foreseen such a thing happening with them” you told him, nearly rushing through the entire sentence. “AIDE has told me some of these materials are also from Baizhi. Do you mind taking back the ones that are yours?” 

Xiangli Yao looks on at you, letting you speak and he nods at the question. Did this make you so riled up, or was it him? He had to admit, he felt rather weak in his word arsenal now. This has in no way ruined his day, nor has he meant any offense to you with his quips. The interaction it all led to between the two of you felt sweet to his heart, as most encounters between the two of you during the day felt almost artificial, all work no soul chatter which he found himself craving to have with you. And both of you needed solo time to recharge, but now it felt like there was emotion behind it, there was a heart. Yao wasn’t about to simply let it go to waste. But what does he say to make you more at ease?

“Of course. Here, why don’t you come to my office, I’ll also help you sort the other items out that belong to Baizhi afterwards” he offered as he took back his things, and also some more to lighten your load as some seemed at the point of slipping past your fingers. “Your droids are quite skilled to unlock doors previously locked - have you taught them to pick at locks?” he asked, his tone genuine as well as he recalled an occasion where he overheard Mortefi complaining to you about AIDE ‘breaking into his office’. 

You sigh at the memory. “No. I have not taught them any of that. Their objectives and codes only revolve around listening to my orders and helping me work, I genuinely don’t know where they got it to pick locks..” you tell him as you walk side by side to his office. His presence felt as if he was pressed right against your side, even if there was comfortable space between you, or perhaps that was just you overthinking the situation. Xiangli Yao’s company was always welcome, you wished your paths crossed more often during work, but alas..

“Admirable, really” Yao comments, looking up ahead and hastening his step to open the door with his elbow, leaving it wide open for you. You walk in and you can already tell AIDEs has been through here. Xiangli Yao sets down the items he had in his arms, returning the ones that belonged to him to their right place.

“Have..have they damaged anything of yours?” You cautiously asked as you looked around, almost expecting to see broken glass or torn papers.

“Oh no, they've done no harm. They were quite adamant on taking my things, however” he chuckles. “The group that I encountered in my office even wished to scold me for not allowing them to take the items back to you. Kahooting at me and beeping, heh. They even picked up the oil for my prosthetic” he said as he turned back to look at you, noticing how your brows curled in a worried expression, the cogs and wheels turning so loud he could nearly hear them from where he stood.

You sigh for the nth time, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head. “I'm really sorry for this, they really aren't like this. I'm assuming that the loss of my office, which was coded as their own ‘HQ’  , impacted them more than I imagined. They wouldn't do any of this otherwise “ You adjust the few small items in your arms, the sample bags stacked on top. 

Xiangli Yao hums in acknowledgement. “I understand that. Thankfully, that is an easy fix until your office is done and ready for use again. I often see the little guys lingering in front of the locked doors of the office.. makes me think they’re rather sentimental about the place” he nodded thoughtfully, and as he talked he approached you again, taking the items from you even after you tried to give a word of protest. 

“Although, I also have a suspicion it is not just the loss of their ‘HQ’ that is making them behave like this” Yao added as he motioned towards the door again, having you walk out first. You did as he requested, but you closed the door behind him before he could try to. You look at him quizzically, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well..the droids’ objective is to help you reach an end in your research or daily tasks, yes? Have you perhaps not been able to reach an end of your work that the droids' could physically see? This is just my hypothesis but..uhh..” he trails off as he notices the weight of your stare, his eyes going back to the path ahead, focusing on going to Baizhi’s office. Was he being too prodding? 

You couldn't deny that his words held some water, but a part of you wasn't ready to simply say what you thought. The AIDE were a bunch of robots you created, scraps of metals and wires, and giving them any form of sentimental intelligence aloud felt wrong. Even if you treated them kindly and softly like puppies and cats countless times, you weren't going to risk being seen as soft and fragile in your workspace, in front of Yao no less. He wasn’t cold in any way, or unkind to either robots, people or animals - but you felt silly in your treatment of your helpful companions.

“Are you saying that the droids may have a.. small flaw in their system? Their code could use some fine tuning, that's for sure…” you replied, trailing off as you thought about it, relieving him of your gaze in the meantime. 

“Yes, that is what seems most plausible, although I do not know their code as well as you do” 

You nod and just shrug, too tired to think of inputting more codes and numbers, but you knew the task was unavoidable. “Yeah…I'll take a look at the codes once I'm back. Uh, you know where Baizhi keeps her things?”

“Not exactly in the way she has her things organized…but, we can just leave them in an orderly place. I can explain the situation to her in the morning for you, no worries” Xiangli Yao is about to hasten his step again but you make it a point to beat him to it, opening the door for him and keeping it open. You hear a huff of a laugh behind you but you do not immediately turn around to face him and see his expression. Yet when you do take a look, your heart jumps in your throat as he passes by you, giving you another one of his warm smiles.

You feel stiff compared to him, he who seems so carefree and professional. 

“You don't have to do that on my behalf. I'll just talk to her myself” you slide in next to him above Baizhi’s desk. It looks rather empty with how well organized it looks. Papers piled neatly on one end next to the simple lamp, pens in their pen holder, a few other things carefully tucked over the desk but besides that, there was nothing else on the desk. Everything else had its place on the shelves or in the drawers. You have to hold back your awe at it, remembering how much of an ‘organized mess’ your desk is. 

“It wouldn't be an inconvenience, Baizhi and I have a task we have to do together tomorrow,” Yao said as he sat the sample bags down along with the little boxes. 

You find yourself not knowing what to say, and suddenly you feel as if you're standing too close for comfort, your neck feeling too warm and you decide to pace away, taking in the office - one you have probably visited before but that fact wasn't important right now. 

“Coohoo, clack?” 

You both turn around and see several eyes staring back at you around the doorframe. 

Xiangli Yao chuckles as he sees that the little droids have, once again, managed to snag something of his to bring to you - this time the Rubik's cube from before. They murmur among themselves when they see him, and one at the front almost hisses when he approaches. The others rush in with the Rubik's Cube in tow, rushing straight to you. 

“Ah- not again…” you grumble as you crouch down to welcome your rowdy robot children in, taking the cube away from them as they crowd around your feet and tug lightly at the tail of your coat.  “I'm really sorry, Xiangli-”

“No, no, please, no need to apologize. Now that I look at this, I have a feeling they're trying to lift your spirits. Surely, AIDE realizes a Rubik’s Cube has no other use but momentary play”

You look up at him, joining in the stare group made from your droids who all can't seem to take their eyes off of him. 

“That…could be it. Hah, a rather cute thought, isn't it? I should give these guys a bit more praise, I think..” you feel yourself cracking slowly, the exhaustion and the weight of your unreached goals making your mind a fuzzy place. You feel your cheeks go warm again and cast your eyes down swiftly to take a look at your droids again.

“Quite so. Do you need help with the coding?” He suddenly asked as you rose to your feet, taking a careful step over the grouped up droids. You stumble and feel Yao grab onto your elbow to stabilize you. “Careful-”

“Thanks.. here's your, uhm, cube” you mutter as you hastily hand him the Rubik's cube even before you get to stand back properly on your feet. 

The droids coo in unison, first in surprise and then in relief when you don't fall. 

“And no, actually, I should be fine with doing the coding on my own. It will only take a bit, but anyway- I'd rather not be in your way any more than I already am.” You said as you found your feet again, the droids already gathering around your feet again and looking up at you and Yao unblinking. 

“In my way? Miss (L/N), you’re not in my way. I am offering you my help of my own free will, not out of pity or anything similar” he assures you and soon joins you in looking down at your droids when you fail to respond. This time he can’t help but notice the flush on your cheeks, but he doesn’t comment on it for your sake.

“These little ones are.. quite something” you added as your eyes gazed over them all, listening to their lenses “blink” and observe.

The droids huddle closer, almost climbing up over the other to reach better heights to either of you. His words from before strike you once more in that moment, and you find yourself thinking deeper about the issue at hand - although can you really call it an issue? The droids have done nothing but try their best to be of use to you, and not only in your work but in your mood as well. Would it be so wrong to treat them with a little more humanity? The droids seemed to favor Xiangli Yao in some ways too, as most of the items they brought back to you were his.

“Xiangli Yao..”

“Hm?” He tips his head to the side, looking over at you as you still observe the little ones.

“Could you actually..help me with these guys a bit? I think I want to do more than just coding changes, I'd like to add some more features - and you have more experience in this field than I do”

Xiangli Yao feels his heart swell with something he can't quite describe coherently in that moment, but he knows it is making him feel fuzzy and energized. “Of course! I'd love to - spending some time with these droids is going to be a time well spent”.

Although he loved the droids on their own, he was more so looking towards spending time with you. And where the droids were is where you are.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 15 - Prostitution

Kink: Prostitution

Pairing: GN!Reader x M!Robot

Other Kinks: Cowgirl Position

Word Count: 1629 Words

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’re so…warm.”

The words spill out of your mouth before you can think better of it, eyes wide at the heated metal beneath your splayed palm. Booker’s sleek, black exterior had you thinking he would be chill to the touch, something different from your own fleshy body. But he’s not, the gentle whirr of his processors just beneath his plating generating a pleasant heat. It’s not unlike a laptop that’s running too many programs, though you’re not sure if that’s an appropriate thing to say out loud.

“So are you.” Booker’s modulated voice quips, the deep tone sending a shiver down your spine. He sounds like the sultry narrator of a smut novel, or the bad boy option in a love triangle otome game. I’s built to make you putty in his hands.

No wonder his hourly rate is so high.

A sharp metal finger tils up your jaw, moving your eyes from his jutting plated abdomen to his face, the blank metal screen somehow staring deep into your soul. Red lines pulse in between the juncture where his jaw meets his neck, cabling glowing like neon in the dark bedroom.

“You’re my first human client, you know that?” He chuckles, fingers moving up to pinch your cheeks, watching the way they squish. “Many of your kind seem too intimidated to consider even looking me in the faceplate, let alone join me in bed.”

You feel your face grow hot, thoughts running back to the first impression you had when saw his page on the scandalous website you cracked open late at night. 

“You’re my first droid.” You mutter, lips still squished together. “So I guess we’re both in for something new”

Booker chuckles, and you bet if he could smirk, he would.

“Cheeky little thing.” Booker pulls you closer, still grabbing you by the jaw. Straddled the way you are on his lap, your hand has to splay on his chest to keep your balance. He leans his face-plate past your face and directly into your ear. “I like that.”

It’s hard not to melt right then there, become a puddle of flesh against his large lap. Especially when he presses another large hand against your lower back, pushing it to arch in his grip. The warm metal is now pressed directly to your bare chest, so hot yet not burning.

Something buzzes underneath your crotch, making you yelp. Booker’s chuckle rumbles in your ear, the hand on your lower back now rubbing circles.

“That’d be my modesty plating, love.” His hand moves down to grip one of your ass cheeks, pushing your lower half down right against the buzzing at the center of his crotch. It’s just as hot as the rest of him, and sends a bolt of lightning straight up your spine. “Looking so cute on top of me, the thing might just malfunction.”

You gulp. Gods, you may be too pent up for all this.

“So that hides your…your-”

“My cock, yes.” Booker brushes the back of his segmented knuckles down the side of your face, stopping to trace the shape of your lips. 

“O-oh.” 

Booker’s thumb prods at your bottom lip and it’s almost embarrassing how eagerly you open your mouth for him, let him run the pad of his thumb against your tongue. 

“So wet.” Booker purrs, the whirring of machinery growing louder as he pushes his thumb all the way down to the knuckle, sees drool spilling over the sides of your mouth.

“Can I shee it?” You sputter around his thumb, mind still preoccupied with the buzzing core beneath you.

Booker spanks you on the ass, sending you forward and gagging on his thumb. But he laughs again, and shimmies himself upward. His modesty plate now sits just before your seated crotch.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Steam bursts from the siding as the buzzing plate pulls back into his black armor, a slippery wet red phallus sliding into place. 

Holy SHIT.

The cock’s head lays on your stomach, some sort of fluid pulsing underneath the silicone skin and making it twitch. Fresh globs of a neon crimson fluid bubble at the top, coating it with a sticky texture. 

“Just as you imagined it?”

“Even better.” You pant, heart pounding in your ear drums as you eye up Booker’s dick. “C-can I touch it?”

Booker nods, thumb still pressing down on your lower palette as you hyper focus on the task at hand.

It’s warmer than the rest of him, much closer to the familiar body heat of humans that you’re used to. The silicon squishes as you grab at the base, still firm even as you squeeze up the shaft. Booker winces, vents opening up on the side of his neck to push out some overheated steam. 

“Is it sensitive?” You sputter, Booker's thumb now pulled out to the very end, letting you speak normally.

“Very.” A string of saliva follows Booker’s thumb as he pulls it out of your mouth completely, connecting the two of you still together. 

A glitchy moan comes when you reach the tapered head, liquid foaming around your fingers as you squeeze the tip. Seems he’s extra sensitive right there, something in common with human men.

You feel your mouth go dry, a desperate want spurring your heart into overdrive. “It’ll feel better inside you, darling.” The hand on your ass shoves you forward, pressing the cock right against your crotch, sending another bolt up your stomach. “I'm craving it, bad.”

So am I.

A bubbling well of pure giddy fills up your chest, has you quickly sitting up and aligning your eager hole with the tip. Booker’s hands move to grip onto your hips, using your love handles as they were intended.

You sink sensuously and slow down, eyes going cross as Booker’s cock stretches you open. The tapered shape helps alleviate any burn from not being prepared beforehand, inching you wide and wider until you finally sit at the base. The shape edges of Booker’s hip plating against your inner thigh sends tiny firecrackers across your skin.

“Damn, you’re even hotter on the inside, baby.”

You nod dumbly, too focused on the feeling of a warm cock deep inside you. Booker takes the opportunity to throw up his hips and legs, stealing the breath right out of your lung and sending you forward and into his chest. The thick wiring of his neck presses right into your nose, mind still wobbling from the quick shift.

“Let Daddy Booker take care of you, sweet cheeks.”

Something like an engine revs in Booker's stomach, the only warning you get of Booker's first thrust. Stars shoot out behind your eyelids, and know immediately that you are getting your money's worth.

Booker bounces on his cock like you weigh nothing, snapping his hips with such power and precision that all senses feel knocked out of your head. 

“You like that baby?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh!” You mutter dumbly, already fucked stupid by his dick. His cock pulses form inside you, streams of that neon lube-like substance dripping down the sides making a squelching sound with each slap against your ass cheeks. Strings of it stick between your thighs and his, catching the light from his cabling and almost sparkling on his black exterior. 

“Taking it so good, baby. Finally getting what you needed.” Booker growls in your ear, thos vents blowing hot air directly onto your face. “Fucked like the animal you are.”

Booker’s hands grip deep into your flesh, making indents on the skin as starts thrusting his hips up with every jolt of your body. It doubles the sensation inside you, and has pelvis tingling. 

“Fuck!”

The bed underneath you rumbles and shakes, Booker’s large metal body putting immense strain on the cheap frame. Everything about him is big, big enough that you originally thought he was a war droid, ideal for busting down walls and snapping necks.

He’s busting something down, that's for sure.

Booker never once slows his pace, the only hint of exhaustion coming from the occasional exhale from his vents and subtle uptick in whirring from his systems. But even then they are  subtle changes, his dick jutting in and out for what feels like hours. Long enough that your whole body almost feels numb, the kind of emptiness when all sensation is too much, when your brain short circuits and is about to burst.

“Can feel you squeezing me, darling. You gonna cum?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” 

“Then cum for me baby, show me how good daddy makes you feel.”

Your entire body quakes as your orgasm hits like a stack of bricks, back arched at an impossible angle as you scream into the night, no care for potential neighbors or bystanders on the busy street below. You almost miss the hot burst of something inside you, a stream of liquid filling up your insides, coming straight from the tapered tip pressed against the very edge of yourself.

Your breath fogs on Booker’s chest palting as you lay there, panting. He may be warm but your body is on fire, overwhelmed by his heat and sweat practically steaming off of you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, or being tucked into bed. You wake up the next morning with a cup of water by your bed, sticking to your sheets from dried sweat overnight.

You guzzle down the water, memories slowly piercing back together, wondering when Booker left.

There’s a note left by the water bottle, written in perfect penmanship and a business card left to the side.

For my new favorite client.

There’s a private comms number written down on the card, the kind droids used to communicate to one another or occasionally with non-robotics.

Guess you made a good impression.

[sugarrrvenomm]

is somebody gonna match my freak? // obi-wan x reader

sorry i couldn't help it with the title LMAO

word count: 3k

summary: this is disgusting <3

PS if u want me to make a taglist and would like to be on it leave a reply !!

In the beginning, Obi-Wan felt guilty; depraved. He was a Jedi Knight, had been a Jedi Knight for many years—while you still wore a braid in your hair. It wasn’t necessarily written anywhere that having sexual relations with Padawans was against the rules, but if he was being honest with himself, he knows that’s because it’s the kind of expectation that is so obvious no one thought it even needed to put in writing. Still, the fact that it wasn’t explicitly forbidden didn’t do much to quell his shame.

And in the end, his shame didn’t do much—or anything at all, really—to stop him from fucking you. 

In his defense, you made the first move. Drunk off the single glass of wine your Master had allowed you during the Temple’s Life Day celebrations. Anakin had slunk off to Force knows where, and Obi-Wan was content with standing at the edge of the grand banquet hall, making sure no one got too reckless, taking another drink every time a server-droid buzzed passed him, and watching you. 

You’d greeted him earlier, twirling in your little white dress that certainly wasn’t Jedi issued. It was becoming more and more common for younger Jedi to scrap together fabric into their own personalized garments—apparently it didn’t bother the Council enough to do anything about it. And it certainly didn’t bother Obi-Wan, especially when the fabric was so thin he could tell very easily you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“What do you think?” You’d asked, smiling with teeth as white as the dress. 

Obi-Wan had cleared his throat, biting back the first few entirely inappropriate responses that came to him, before answering, “You’re very creative.”

The way you deflated slightly, clearly expecting a little more, bothered him more than it should have, so he smiled as genuinely as he could, and added, “Go enjoy the party, little one.” And then you blushed, like you always did when he called you that. Without another word, you had turned on your heel and did exactly as he said. He’d be lying if he said the obedience wasn’t a turn on. 

All night he watched you, and when you finally started to drift toward the exit, he made sure to be there so he could ask, “Would you like me to walk you back?”

The yes he got in response wasn’t very surprising. The way you had kissed him at the door of your quarters was, though. Obi-Wan couldn’t even enjoy it—instinctively pulling back and looking around to see if anyone had witnessed it. No one had, but you were grabbing at his tunics, trying to get his attention, and he’d pushed you inside of your rooms with the intention fo simply getting the two of you away from any prying eyes that may come. 

And once the door slid shut behind the both of you, and you were truly alone—he couldn’t help himself. Obi-Wan leant down and pressed your lips together, groaning low in his chest, walking you back until you were against the door, and slid his tongue into your mouth so you could taste him. You made such sweet, little noises—some of surprise, like you’d never done this before, and that made him roll his hips, desperate to get any kind of friction on his thick, swelling cock. 

When he’d done that, you’d pulled back, blinking up at him all doe-eyed with your lips pink and swollen. “I’m a virgin,” you said, in one quiet breath. 

Obi-Wan was far from a virgin, but he certainly felt like one for a moment, the words arousing him so much he feared he might finish in his pants right then and there. 

“That’s alright,” he managed to tell you, cupping your pretty face, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Nothing has to happen.” As much as I’d like it to, he left out. 

You’d sent him away with another kiss, and he wondered if when the morning came, you’d regret it. He never got a direct answer for that—you carried on almost entirely as if it had never happened when the two of you were around each other. If it wasn’t for Obi-Wan’s frequent replaying of the memory while he stroked his cock at night, he might have thought he imagined it.

Then, you were assigned a mission together. 

Obi-Wan knew Anakin found you tolerable at least, so he only gave him a warning to be on his best behavior—for most of the mission, the two of you only spoke when necessary, while Obi-Wan and your Master were more comfortable with each other. Or, used to be. Obi-Wan had trouble looking the other Jedi in the eye after kissing you. When the mission was completed, the four of you boarded the ship once more, Anakin in the cockpit navigating you away form the planet, while the rest settled in. 

Even while wrapped up in a conversation with your Master, Obi-Wan’s focus was on you. The other Jedi stood in front of Obi-Wan, so he couldn’t see what you were doing behind him, but Obi-Wan could. Obi-Wan could see the way you cleaned your lightsaber hilt, could see the way you removed the emergency medical supplies and rations from your belt and put them back in their proper place. 

Obi-Wan could see you bend over to take your boots off, and the way your panties clung to your little cunt. 

A Jedi in a skirt wasn’t a completely foreign sight, though most chose to wear leggings underneath. Obi-Wan had assumed you’d skipped them due to the heat of the planet, but had also assumed it was at least the kind of skirt with little shorts sewn in underneath. For practicality’s sake. He’d assumed wrong, of course. You had done this on purpose. There was no denying it when you turned your head to look at him, still bent over, and bit your lip.

As soon as your Master moved a muscle, you were up again, straightening yourself and bowing respectfully as he walked away to another area of the ship. When he was gone, you resumed your position, hands around your ankles. “I’m ready for something to happen now, Master Kenobi,” you said. 

Possessed, Obi-Wan took long strides to reach you as quickly as possible, grabbing your hips, thumbing your skirt up to see more of you. “I thought you were a virgin,” he breathed out, eyes glued to the place where your underwear hugged your slit, outlining the folds of your pussy. 

“I am,” you pouted, turning to look at him.

Obi-Wan ran a thumb over your center, his cock twitching. “Then how are you so fucking filthy?”

“Because of you.”

In response, Obi-Wan cursed, and cupped your pussy with a big hand. “Is that so?”

“Yes, yes!” You whined, and he let you rock yourself back, trying to make him rub you. “I always think of you when I—when I—“ you started, but you couldn’t seem to finish. 

“When you touch yourself?” Obi-Wan asked, taking his hand away as you nodded eagerly. He gripped your hips again, and pushed his own forward, after lifting his tunics out of the way so the bulge of his hard cock in his trousers could press snug and hot against your needy, covered cunt. “Me too, little one. Every time I touch my cock I’m thinking of you; of your darling face and this tight fucking virgin pussy,” he gritted out, humping against you with the last words, making you tip forward and claw at the wall in front of you. 

“Master Kenobi,” you mewled. “Please, touch me.”

Obi-Wan wanted to. He desperately wanted to. He wanted to pull down your underwear and have you right here, pop your cherry and make you his. But he couldn’t.

“I can’t fuck you, little one,” he breathed out.

You made a bratty, unhappy noise. “Why not?” 

“You’ll scream,” he bent over and whispered in your ear. 

♡♡♡♡♡

Eventually, Obi-Wan does take your virginity, and lets you scream all you’d like. Laid back in his bed, clawing at his hair while he rubs the drippy, pink head of his cock over your center, tapping your clit and barely pushing into your cunt. 

“Do you think it’ll even fit?” He asks. It’s not just dirty talk—he really doesn’t know for sure. You’re so tiny, and untouched, and his cock is quite big. Your eyes had gone wide when he first took it out, and he’d sat you on his lap and let you play with it until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Now, he sinks the tip of it into your pussy, and even as sloppy wet as you are, he wonders. 

“It will, it will,” you chant, trying to push down on it. Adorable.

He rubs a thumb over your clit to make you settle, then coos at you, “It’s alright if it doesn’t—little girls have tight, little pussies. You’ll just need practice, darling.” The words just pour out of him, so obscene he shocks himself a bit. It seems that all his guilt has turned into filth, and the very things he used to be ashamed of are now the very things he finds the most arousing. The braid in your hair, your untouched body, your innocence. 

Still, he indulges you, and as it would turn out, you were right. It does fit. It’s so tight that Obi-Wan feels as if his dick might break off, but that only makes him more determined to open your pussy up for him. As you cry and whine and chant his name, he fucks you into the mattress, pounding away at your cunt and groaning at the sounds the two of you make together; obnoxiously wet. 

What makes him come is the realization that you haven’t even inquired about a condom, not even once. Obi-Wan had a vasectomy years ago, but you certainly don’t know that. For all you know, he’s about to knock you up. In his mind, he sees you, sat on his lap with your back to his chest, letting him bounce you up and down on his cock, your sweet belly swollen with his baby. His cock pushes out another weak spurt when he imagines your Master walking in on it. 

With his cock softening inside of you, he rubs your clit and laves his tongue over your nipples. “Sweet girl, come all over me. I want to feel my little one come,” he orders. And you do; so obedient.

♡♡♡♡♡

Obi-Wan can’t stop taking firsts from you after that, especially with how you want it. Messaging him whenever you’re away from each other about how you can’t live without his cock and his tongue and his hands. Every moment your Master is away, you’re at his door, and Obi-Wan thanks the Force that Anakin’s teenage mood swings have led him to making himself scarce in their free time—it means Obi-Wan gets to have you however he’d like.

He gets you bouncing on his cock, just like he imagined, minus the pregnancy. His hands tucked under your knees, spreading you and opening you up so he can fuck you up and down on his fat cock until you squirt all over the mirror he’s set the two of you in front of. 

“Clean it up,” he tells you, pulling you off his cock and setting you on the floor. 

Without hesitation, you crawl over, and he’s torn between where he wants to look—your glistening pussy, pink and puffy from use, or your tongue, licking along the dirty mirror, unashamed. You do it so easily that he gets an idea, getting on the floor himself and stuffing himself back inside of you aggressively, fucking into you messily, watching the way your ass ripples until he’s about to come—then he quickly pulls out, stands, and tugs at his cock until his milky spend is dripping down the mirror. 

He grabs you by the hair and guides you to it, “Mm,” he hums, pleased at the way you moan and eagerly lick it up and swallow it all down. “Little come slut.” His cock is stirring to life again already, and he rubs it against your cheek, tapping your swollen lips with it. “Next time, I’ll fill you up and you can be my come dump, too.”

♡♡♡♡♡

When forced into situations with your Master, Obi-Wan really loathes how you obey the other Jedi so readily. He knows you should, and he knows he’s being unreasonable. It doesn’t stop him from ordering you to come to his quarters before your Master awakes, so he can swirl his tongue over the pretty little rim of the only hole he hasn’t touched yet. He moans against your skin, shoving his tongue inside of you and drooling all over his beard, lost in it until your com goes off, signaling that your Master’s awake. 

Obi-Wan can barely stand it—sending you away without coming, your precious cunt so soaked it’s surely going to show even through your leggings. 

It’s a consolation when he visits the training salles later and knows you’re going through all your katas with a plug in your ass, put there by him. Sparring with your Master while your entrance clenches around it and your pussy drools helplessly all the while. 

On the days there’s no time for such things, he strokes his cock while you’re on your way over. The only thing you do when you arrive is tug your panties down, and Obi-Wan comes all over the inside of them. He pulls them up your legs, smiling at the way they immediately become transparent and stick to you. 

“Does it feel yucky?” He asks.

You rub your thighs together and nod. “I like it, though.”

Pride swells in Obi-Wan’s chest and he kisses your forehead, while one hand reaches back under your skirt to massage your cunt, rubbing his seed all over your folds and the swollen button of your tiny clit. “Good girl. You keep that nice and warm for me all day, okay?”

You rock into his touch, and he sends you off with a smack to your ass. All day, he imagines you humping your seat during your lessons.

♡♡♡♡♡

Obi-Wan eats your pussy from the back, because you make him nasty like that. He bends you over a table in a dark corner of the archives and kneels behind you, shoving his face between your legs and trying to see if he can make you squirt in public.

He can. He sucks greedily at your clit and sends you an image through the Force of him doing this right in the middle of one of the Temple’s grand hallways, and you come so hard he has to take off his robe and sop up your mess from the table and the floor. 

Perhaps it’s a bit hypocritical, spanking you for such a stunt when you get back to his quarters, because really, it’s his own fault—but he does it anyway. 

“Naughty, naughty girl. You’re so filthy I’m beginning to think you’d let anyone do that to you. Is that true, little one? When I’m not around, do you flash your pussy to other Jedi? Is your little cunt so insatiable that you’d hump the boot of anyone that offered?” Obi-Wan knows none of these things are true; he knows as well as you do that you belong to him, but you blush so pretty and your cunt drips so much when he talks like this, so he always does. 

When your ass is red and you begin to cry, he pulls you into his lap and lets you rock against his thigh until you’ve calmed down. You suck on his tongue like it’s candy and rub your tits against his hairy chest.

Eventually, you pull back and pinch your own nipples, before pushing your breasts together and looking at him from under your eyelashes. “Do you think you could fuck me here?”

Obi-Wan throws you on the bed so fiercely he fears for a moment that he hurt you, but then you’re moaning and playing with your tits again, sticking your tongue out like a whore to beckon him closer. Rather than lube his cock up, he shoves it in your mouth and lets you wet it for him. You’ve gotten so good at this, you barely gag, even when your nose is buried in the auburn thatch of hair above his cock. 

When he fucks your tits, it’s more about the fact that you’ve asked him to do it, rather than the physical sensation of it. Sweet Padawan, little one, hugging her breasts around the cock of a man twice her age while she goes crosseyed and cockdumb. 

Obi-Wan’s mouth gets away from him, but he knows you love it. “Imagine if your Master could see you right now—he wouldn’t believe his little girl likes to suck my cock and empty my balls over her tits.”

He does just that, and then asks you to stick your tongue out again so he can take a holo of you, come on your tits and eyes glazed over. 

♡♡♡♡♡

“Think your cute little pussy can handle daddy’s big fat cock?”

He doesn’t know which one of you started the daddy thing, but it drives the both of you crazy. The fantasies where you just plain call him dad, he keeps to himself. 

You’re on all fours on his bed, and you reach between your legs to spread your cunt for him. 

“I can take anything you give me, daddy,” you say sweetly, and Obi-Wan knows it’s true. 

[bussyyeukie]

141!space crew x pilot!reader: The blinking and beeping was so consistent you nearly didn’t hear it anymore. It droned into something akin to rainfall, or the crashing of waves. Although you weren’t sure what true waves sounded like, only having seen videos of them, or heard the man-made synthetic replications.

You were positive it sounded better in real life, Earth made–but Earth didn’t make them anymore. The water that was there was polluted and not safe to swim in, hell it was barely ok to stand by unless you really liked bad sewers. 

But it didn’t bug you too much, no use yearning for things that were impossible to obtain.

Your feet splashed in the puddles covering the ground, it would’ve soaked through your boots if they weren’t so high quality, having spent nearly a whole paycheck on them. New and thick and laced up high, metal lining the front of back of them, and the soles were so soft and padded.

Too bad the rest of you wasn’t as taken care of, your coat–although large–was thinning and the zipper got so stuck it was almost useless to zip it up if you wanted to unzip it in the next week. Your hood pulled tight over your head, even if it didn’t feel like it did anything. Ends of your pants tucked into your boots and shirt tucked into them. Hands shoved in your pockets as you walked, weaving through people left and right. Everyone was always in such a hurry, the neon lights everywhere nearly destroying the concept of darkness, and the buzzing ads ringing out of large screens and hologram projections standing out in the street. Women smiling wide with all too fluid movements, pitching some product in skirts and professional looking shirts. 

People walking through them or even swatting as they passed.

Your footsteps landed hard as they splashed up water around them. Vendors shouting out about their food or goods, people on calls screaming at wifes and secretaries. Keeping your eyes locked onto the people bustling in front of you. Building taller than anything, large machines filling any area that wasn’t packed with people. Drones and ships and space-crafts filling the sky. There wasn’t a single place that wasn’t occupied.

Even down the dark alleys behind the nightclubs, they were occupied too even if you couldn’t see them, either with people or with droids who were selling something.

The lights off everything reflected off you, off your eyes and damp skin, brushing loose hair out of your face and licking your lips. The water tasted like mud, it wasn’t clean or clear or refreshing. It was like licking a boot. Gasoline and dirt and muck.

While lost in your thoughts about water and obnoxious screens, you didn’t notice the man with the collar of his leather jacket up–covering a good portion of his face, or that he was about to run into you.

“Ow–hey what’s the big–”

Nearly sending you falling on your ass, the boney shoulder ramming straight into you, but your retort died on your tongue as you caught a glimpse of the man and the aggressive scowl he had on his face and the wild look in his eye. Pupils popped and ran into his irises, his sclera a off yellow, fairly typical with heavy druggies the past year. Your brows pinched together and you felt your gaze linger on him. His hair was dark and sticking to his face and neck.

“What…” his voice was croaky, harsh as he stopped in his tracks, the inside of his lips blackened. Letting people bump into him and send a swear as they disappeared back into the crowd.

“Uh,” you faltered, before shaking your head and holding your hands up, pressing your lips together tightly. Taking a step back as your eyes tracked every twitch he made, the cold escaping you for a moment as your attention shifted focus, “Nothing, sorry for bumping into you…”

You scoffed to yourself and turned, trying to swim your way back into the ever moving crowd.

Taking about two steps forward before a hand yanked you back, gripping your hood tightly as you stumbled.

“Hey–!”

Your voice was drowned out by the noise around. The pink lighting of the sign above you both casting down onto you, basking your shiny skin in warm light and color.

“I know you…” the man squinted his eyes, raising his other hand to your chest, gripping the thick jacket in a tight fist. Damn near caging you in–no one around stopped their pace or even sent a second glance. If a fight was going to happen, they’d rather be far away from it than caught in the middle, especially if Enforcers got involved, most everyone had something illegal on them or they were illegal. This part of town was notorious for its nightlife, and you’d rather be dead than detained by an Enforcer.

“No, you do not,” your voice held a light chuckle to it as you grabbed the man's wrist, utterly confused, “Trust me, I’d remember…that.”

With your other hand you gestured loosely to his face.

The man frowned deeper.

“No, I know your face,” he growled, grip tightening as he drew you in closer, like he was really studying your features and waiting for the answer to pop up.

“You do not, I promise,” you said, a firm hand pushing against his shoulder, leaning your head back, blinking away the water that was getting in your eyes. Hair already weighed down with the weight of the rain, pieces sticking to your jaw and neck like glue.

“You are…”

The tweaked out man’s eyes started twitching, lips curling. Like the amount he was thinking was hurting him.

“Hey, I am not that unique looking, I’m sure you’ve got me mixed up with someone else, because I have never met you, ever,” you pushed firmer at the dudes shoulder, he wasn’t terribly tall, but he had some leverage on you, “The chick at the pulled pork place like 10 minutes away looks just like me, it’s freaky.”

The darked haired man didn’t buy it, just about to open his mouth to say something when he was ripped off of you. Your eyes widening as you hopped a foot back, squinting in the rain.

“Christ, yer just can't stay outta trouble, can yer?” the lumbering man grunted, practically tossing the other man to the side, focusing his attention on him, “Fuck off mate.”

The dark haired man shot one last look towards you, then popped his collar up higher and stalked off, making his way into a jog through the crowd.

A grin fought its way onto your face as you re-adjusted your hood back on your head, pushing water and hair out of your face.

Standing before you was the large, darkened form you’d grown to enjoy seeing. Hood pulled tight on his head, covering the blond hairs, a dark mask pulled down under his lips as a smoldering cigarette sat between them. Lighting up a miniscule portion of his face, the fair skin and scared lips blooming under the light.

His shoulders were broad and solid, even slumped as they were, thick layering and jackets building that up more. He trudged towards you, footsteps silent all for the splashing.

“Ghost! Shit, I thought I'd get to the spot first,” you whined, walking fast to keep pace next to him.

He sent you a glance as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth before pinching the end of it, putting it out, stuffing it back onto his pocket.

“Pickin' fights, or are ya just that popular?”

The smirk could be heard in his jest, and you rolled your eyes, sending a look back over your shoulder into the muddled crowd of bodies.

“Just that popular,” you looked back at him, “Dude was a freak, I’ll tell you that.”

Simon chuckled, before clapping you roughly on the back, sneaking his hand up and tugging down the front of your hood.

“Ass,” your face heated up as you adjusted your hood. 

“Ah don’t be a poor loser, lovie,” Simon glanced at you, then looked discreetly behind him.

The walking turns out to be a lot easier now that you have a large barrier blocking the stream of people. You looked in front of you for a moment, watching the back of someone in a rugged suit try to get around someone he deemed too slow of a walker, your lips pursing as you swung your arm and smacked Simon in the stomach with the back of your palm.

“I didn’t lose anything, you just had to be all ‘white-knight’…”

All he did was laugh it off, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Ah, sure Price��ll love to know why his pilots late,” Simon mused, his gait widening, “Cap’n loves late departures.”

“What–” your eyes widened as fear shocked its way through your belly, jogging to catch up with the blacked out man who was steadily gaining distance in front of you, “No–I didn’t do anything! Gho–hey!”

He sent one look over his shoulder, pulling up his mask over his nose, before disappearing into the crowd.

[charlottesbookclub]

rest (armitage hux x reader) 🧡🧡

Summary: hux is working late, but you try to convince him to get some rest

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; established relationship; mentions of a prior injury; a little bit suggestive at times but nothing too wild; very soft hux in this one; I fear we shall all need to go to the dentist after this on account of the tooth-rotting levels of fluff 🥰; as always, let me know if I've missed anything!

Words: 3146

Author’s Note: so this is a little outtake from 'time after time' that I'm actually posting before that story goes live, as a little treat ☺️ in the longer story, it's situated somewhere between chapters 29 and 30! ultimately, I really liked this scene, but I just couldn't get it to meld into the narrative of the longer story, so I'm posting it separately instead! I think it should still read totally fine as a little drabble – there are a few moments where I reference events from the larger story, so if you feel like there's a little detail that lacks context, that's probably why 😅 also, this scene takes place very late in the timeline of 'time after time,' so the relationship between hux and the reader is very well established by this point. I really hope y'all enjoy and I would lovelovelove to hear your thoughts! 🥰🥰

Armitage barely noticed the buzz at the door as he leaned over his desk, eyesight beginning to go a little fuzzy as he attempted to focus on the forms and diagrams on his data screens. Then he came back to himself. You were sleeping. Kriff, he hoped the noise hadn’t woken you. He pushed himself from the chair and stumbled a little unsteadily to the door, muscles stiff after hours of not remembering to move. He peered at the tiny screen for the cam that was trained to the exterior of the door. It was just a transport droid, no doubt delivering a freshly pressed set of uniforms. Pushing the button and sending door sliding open before the droid could buzz again, he collected the clothing and dismissed the droid.

He pivoted on his heel back into the room, uniforms in hand. It never failed to send a little thrill through him when both his and yours were delivered to what used to be only his quarters. Maybe it was silly, but it was another treasured reminder that you really were together. With that pleasant thought in mind, he set the crisply folded general’s and captain’s uniforms on the low table in the living area. He didn’t want to risk waking you by placing them in their proper location in the bedroom closet.

He had settled back down at his desk, mind already puzzling through the problems in front of him when he heard a soft sound from the direction of the bedroom. Then he heard you speak.

“Armitage…” Your voice was still thick with sleep, but the sound of his name on your lips was always impossibly sweet. He turned toward you instantly to find you leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, attempting to rub the sleep from your eyes. He was about to try and convince you to go back to bed when he noticed something that caused a faint heat to begin rising in his body. You were wearing his sleep clothes. He had gotten back frustratingly late from a meeting that went far longer than necessary, and you had already been asleep when he quietly entered your shared quarters, so he wouldn’t have seen. But the tiny silver bands near the edges of the short sleeves and the hems of the shorts marked the otherwise unassuming black garments as unmistakably belonging to part of a general’s clothing allotment. Armitage swallowed thickly.

“Are… are you wearing my sleeping clothes?” he asked quietly, feeling the internal heat in his body begin to externalize itself in the form of an embarrassing blush. You nodded sleepily, beginning to make your way to him. He still watched your footsteps carefully in case you might become unstable, but you crossed the floor without incident, even if he could tell that you still favored your uninjured leg slightly. 

“Mmhmm…” you confirmed as you reached him, resting your hands on the back of his chair. “You weren’t there to hold me, so I had to opt for the next best thing.” Your fingers wandered to his shoulders. Armitage’s blush had increased to a veritable blaze, and with the way the warmth of your hands was soaking into his skin, he was beginning to find it very difficult to breathe. “Although I must admit,” you whispered, lips at the shell of his now very reddened ear, “they’re a very poor replacement.” 

Armitage was feeling quite faint indeed. Even if he had wanted to say something, he doubted any words would have made it past his lips. Your fingers pressed into his shoulders, finding all the places where his stress was tied in tense knots and slowly massaging them away. He suppressed a small groan at the heavenly feeling.

“You never wear the short ones anyway,” you murmured. It was true; Armitage had spent too much of his life feeling cold, first on rainy Arkanis and then on the desolate ships of the Imperial remnant. His wiry frame had never held onto heat well. Now that he had the choice to be warm, he wasn’t going to waste the privilege. You helped with that too, he mused as the places where your hands met his shoulders radiated with liquid warmth that was seeping into the rest of his body. “You don’t mind, do you?” There was maybe just the barest hint of hesitation in your question, like you weren’t perfectly certain. He reached one hand up to clasp over yours, momentarily stilling your rhythmic movement on his strained muscles. 

“Not at all,” he assured you. He was so far past not minding. In fact, the thought of it was causing very… distracting images to begin to form in his mind. You hummed lightly in response to his answer, and he could feel the gentle press of your lips against his disheveled hair. Your fingers began kneading at his shoulders again, and he let himself relax more fully into your tender touch. Then he caught a glimpse of the time on his data screen.

“Love,” he said softly, reveling in the way the term of endearment could fall so easily from his lips now. “It’s late – you should go back to bed.” As much as he wanted you to stay, he was determined not to let his own bad habits affect you, especially not while you were still healing.

“Not without you,” came the soft but stubborn reply. A small smile pulled at his lips. Your sleepiness seemed to have made you more endearingly uninhibited.

“You need your rest,” he reminded you, gently pulling one of your hands from his shoulder and placing a warm kiss on your knuckles. 

“So do you,” you responded, your other hand now carding through his hair, sending a pleasant humming sensation along his scalp as you freed the last of the orderly orange strands from their gelled attention. He realized his resolve was weakening.

“I have work to do…” he said softly, trying to convince himself as much as you. Reluctantly, he dropped your hand, placing his arm back on the armrest of his chair as he once again pulled himself toward the desk. He hoped that the action of returning to work would shake the tiredness he could feel steadily growing in his body. It seemed you weren’t having any of that though.

You trailed your hand over his shoulder and down the length of his arm, your touch setting off sparks on his skin even through the rumpled fabric of his uniform top. He struggled to regulate his breathing. You came into view then as you moved between him and his data screens, letting your fingers linger on the back of his wrist as you leaned back against the edge of his desk. The sight of you still soft and languid from sleep, clad in his sleep clothes, was almost more than he could bear. He bit down hard as he struggled with both the exhaustion and sudden heat that were steadily rising in his body. 

“Armitage, you can work next cycle,” you told him gently as you leaned toward him. His breath stuttered in his lungs.

“I— I really should try to get this finished,” he stammered out, even though everything in him wanted to give into you. You seemed to search his face for a moment before coming to some kind of conclusion. What you had decided Armitage could not guess.

“Alright,” you whispered, but there was less defeat in your voice than he would have expected. He watched as you pushed yourself from his desk, hoping to steal a kiss as you passed back behind his chair to return to the bedroom. But that was not the motion you made.

Armitage had to grip the armrests of his chair in surprise as you instead moved forward and slid onto his lap, easily slotting yourself against him. Your head was tucked into his neck, your hands curled up against his chest, legs swung sideways across him. It was a long moment before he could breathe again. The warm, comforting weight of your body against him was such a familiar, welcome feeling that he instinctively began to melt into you. 

“What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly, his lips against your forehead.

“You said you needed to work and that I needed to rest,” you murmured back. He could feel your quiet words vibrating against his chest. “But I sleep better when you hold me. So I’m compromising.” Even through the sleepiness in your voice, Armitage could hear the light teasing that threaded through your words. Kriff, he was so in love with you.

“You’re not going to be able to sleep like this,” he told you, unable to keep the smile from his voice. You shrugged against him.

“How do you know?” you responded, adjusting your position on his lap and snuggling closer to him. He gritted his teeth, only too aware that he was losing this battle. When he remained still for a moment, you spoke again: “You can work. I’ll just be here.”

Armitage let out a huff of affectionate amusement at your words. Nevertheless, he pulled himself back toward his desk, trying to train his attention on the data screens. He was not particularly successful in that endeavor. Every instinct in his body was telling him to wrap his arms around you, to pull you closer. You were literally in his lap, pressed against his chest, and he was focused on work that was seeming less and less important by the minute as he became more and more aware of your body against his. He was struggling mightily to read over a diagram when he felt you move.

Your hands had found their way to his uniform collar and were slowly loosening the dark fabric from around his throat, undoing some of the topmost fastenings. His skin flushed, reacting immediately to the soft brush of your fingers.

“I thought you were supposed to be sleeping,” he reminded you, his lightly scolding tone no doubt getting lost in the rush of affection that he couldn’t suppress from his voice.

“You seemed uncomfortable,” you offered by way of explanation as you pulled the high collar away from his neck. “I was just trying to help.” Before he could respond, he was suddenly frozen in place by the feeling of your warm lips pressed tenderly to the revealed skin of his neck. He gripped the armrest as his breathing became fevered and uneven. He knew the battle was lost.

When your lips fell from his skin, he pulled back, letting you lean slightly into the support of his arms so that he could see your face.

“What?” you asked with a bright smile, the question suffused with false innocence. 

“You are incorrigible,” he responded, tilting forward to press his forehead against yours, brushing your noses together. The action caused a spiral of sleepy giggles to bubble from your lips. Despite his attempt to affect mock disapproval, Armitage couldn’t help the way his face pulled into a smile at your reaction.

“I learned from the best,” you retorted happily, planting a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. There was no way to hide the way his whole face went pink.

“Well, now I see why you were so good at your work, Captain,” he teased, still surprised at how easily such a response came to him when he was around you, “you can be very convincing indeed.”

“I’m not sure how good it made me at my work,” you replied, and Armitage could hear the laughter in your voice, “since this manner of persuasion is saved for you alone, General.” Your eyes were glittering and so, so soft as you looked at him. If he hadn’t already admitted defeat, this would have been the moment he would have happily given in. There was something about knowing that there was a side of you reserved solely for him that never failed to make warmth bloom in his chest.

“Hmmm… a brilliant tactician then,” he mused as he brought your head to where he could press a kiss to your temple. You hummed happily in response. 

“Does this mean you’ll come to bed then?” you asked with a small yawn. Armitage was all too aware of the way your fingers had found his collar again and were slowly opening more and more of his uniform top, revealing the black shirt beneath. The skin of his chest was no doubt a humiliating shade of pink under the thin fabric as his body reacted to your gentle touch.

“Fine,” he acquiesced with an exaggerated sigh of mock-resignment. From the way you laughed, it was clear you heard the affectionate joking in his voice.

“Thank you for your sacrifice, General,” you teased back. The way your fingers were idly tracing patterns across his chest was making him feel quite dizzy.

“Far from a sacrifice,” he whispered against your temple, the joking gone from his voice, “I consider it a privilege.” You ducked your head in slight embarrassment at his words as he pressed another kiss to your hairline.

“Then why did it take so much convincing?” you murmured against his chest. There were a hundred ways Armitage could have answered that question, most of them coming down to the fact that he had gotten good at denying himself the things he wanted. This was not the time to delve into that particular subject; he wanted to keep the conversation light, aware of the fact that you seemed to be growing sleepier by the minute as you curled against him.

“Well, your methods of persuasion were perfectly attuned to your intended target,” he mused, tracing a finger along your cheek. “Perhaps I found the process of being convinced… enjoyable.” He could feel the way your skin warmed at his words. 

“Now who’s being incorrigible?” you rejoined, unable to keep a smile from blooming on your face despite the teasing mock-accusation in your voice.

“You did say you learned from the best,” he reminded you, eliciting a small laugh as you tucked your head against his neck again. Kriff, you made everything in him feel so light. He could have stayed there all rest period, but he was too practical to think that the current position was a viable long-term sleeping option for either of you.

“Love, I hate to say this, but you are going to need to get up so that I can keep my promise,” he whispered against your ear. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your small whine of annoyance. Nevertheless, you crawled from his lap as his hands hovered over you, still anxious that you might become unsteady. He missed the feeling of your body against his immediately.

He stood from his chair as soon as he was certain that you were able to stand without incident. You leaned back against his desk slightly, arms wrapped around yourself as though to ward off the chill in the air that was more apparent on your bared skin now that you weren’t curled against him. Armitage placed his hands on your shoulders as you gazed at him with tired eyes.

“Go to bed,” he urged you softly. “I need to change, but I’ll be right there.”

“You promise?” you asked. Kriff, he couldn’t say no to you when you were looking at him like that – not that he was planning on denying you anything.

“I promise,” he assured you, planting a kiss on your forehead. You hummed lightly as his lips found your skin and offered him a soft smile as you vanished back toward the bedroom. Watching for just a moment to make sure your injured leg didn’t fail you, Armitage then slid into the refresher and finished the work you had been doing to loosen his uniform, the memory of your fingers still lingering against his skin. He pulled on his sleeping clothes – garments he used significantly more now that he was with you. Then he padded through the darkened rooms, turning off his data screens as he made for the bedroom. You were right: his work could wait until next cycle.

He stepped softly into the room, taking a moment to notice the way the starlight streaming in through the window cascaded over your form, bathing you in a silvery glow. His breath skipped a little in his lungs. He crawled under the covers with you, and he could tell that you were already half asleep by the way your breathing had deepened. You blinked your eyes open slightly as he slid onto the mattress next to you, a tired but genuine smile forming on your lips.

“This is so much better than just wearing your sleep clothes,” you murmured as he pulled you into his arms.

“And this is so much better than working,” Armitage sighed. “But you can wear my sleep clothes any time,” he added, the words barely above a whisper. Something about the soft darkness in the room and the way you were folded so happily against him was making him feel a little brave.

“Oh yeah?” He could tell from the hazy quality of your voice that you were on the verge of sleep. “Why?” He stroked a hand down your back, considering his reply. If he confessed now, with you already barely conscious, maybe you would wake up thinking you had dreamed it.

“I find it quite… attractive.” The word was a paltry one for the way heat had suffused his body at the sight, but it conveyed his meaning well enough for the moment. Perhaps there would be another time for him to be more explicit about his feelings on the subject. He blushed deeply in the dark.

“Then… I guess… I’ll have to wear them more often…” It was clear you were struggling to stay awake with the way your stumbling words kept trailing off. Armitage continued the gentle motion of his hand moving lightly up and down your back.

“I find you quite… appealing… no matter what you wear.” Again, the word paled in comparison to the way he felt about you. But the sentiment was true, the proof only too clear on his very reddened cheeks that he was grateful you couldn’t see.

“Armitage… are you saying…?” Your question faded from your lips as your breathing deepened. Armitage was relieved. He wasn’t sure that was a conversation he could have with you without it resulting in you getting far less sleep than you needed. Heat still spread throughout his body at the thought though. He closed his eyes, working to match his breathing to yours. There would be time for that on other nights.

“Sleep well, love,” he murmured, his lips pressed to your forehead in a reverent kiss as he wrapped you even tighter in his embrace. “You need your rest.”

[lightwise]

The Sun Also Burns

gifs by @amiracleilluminated. Dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit

Come get your (very) late dinner with a side of Jod Juice. 'Tis very long, so read on AO3 here if you prefer.

Jod Na Nawood/Original Character. Character Study, Post-Finale, Canon compliant.

Words: 8,792

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Here be smut, your friendly neighborhood star wars pirate, we could fix him but it's better if he fixes himself, emotional angst, emotional sex, PinV (wrap it up kids), oral sex, vaginal sex, hurt/comfort/and then hurt again, light hand on the neck/choking mention, past character death referenced, kidnapping mentions, swearing/foul language, emotional baggage, Jod has spent his whole life running and he doesn't know how to stop now, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mutual pining, oh and did I mention the emotions

Summary: Jod managed to escape the Supervisor’s tower, his choices and life path now open before him. But he can’t escape his past, his demons–or an unexpected reunion. Will he finally grasp onto the pinpricks of light trying to break through his darkness? Or will he make another trip around the void he’s been circling before he’s willing to change his ways?

Notes: This came to me in a dream. Literally. 

Well, the diner scene did. Everything else is just an attempt to justify the ever expanding black hole labeled “Jod” that Jude Law (bless that man) and Skeleton Crew (bless everyone involved in this show) have introduced to my brain. 

Also, the belt buckle took on a life of its own before I went back and realized that Jod doesn’t have it in the first episode. I can’t tell if it was Rennod’s or someone else’s, but regardless, I put too much work into certain headcanons to change them now 😅. Fun fact though, everything else toward the end of this fic is actually canon (check out the book Choose Your Destiny: A Luke and Leia Adventure), and I was thrilled that my character and Jod ended up slotting in perfectly. 

You sighed as you picked up a napkin and wiped your mouth carefully at the corners. The clinking of silverware and buzzing of the overhead lights created a low level hum in the background, just enough to make a conversation feel private without having to yell across the melamine tables. The neighborhood diner had been the first place to reopen after the chaos on At Attin that evening, after a rerouted electric track was restored down the block.

It seemed like a fairly dull but cozy place on the best of days, but now it was jam packed with server droids, neighbors gathering around in gossiping circles, and the sizzling of frypans serving up every fried food imaginable.

Everyone was famished for both food and community after the once-in-their-lifetimes excitement of a pirate invasion, the destruction of the Barrier that had kept their planet hidden for centuries, and the arrival of New Republic X-Wings in its stead. The place remained packed even as the hours dragged on into the early morning. The saviors of the day—Wim, Fern, KB, and Neel, along with their parents—had made their rounds earlier, but had since gone home. The kids' faces were alight with excitement and pride, neighbors and Republic pilots alike shaking their hands and clapping them on the back.

You knew there would be no sleep for them tonight, no matter how dedicated their parents were at herding them home after one too many yawns had split their faces. A small, nostalgic smile appeared on your own, hidden behind the smooth white barrier of the napkin. Oh to be young and full of unbridled optimism again. You hoped that they never outgrew it.

A deliberate cough from the man sitting across from you broke through your thoughts, prompting an irritated eye roll in response. He was the exact opposite of what you hoped for those kids—the pirate currently in your custody had lost his last ounce of innocence long ago, if he ever had any in the first place. 

Handcuffed, hemmed in on each side by an imposing security droid, with one of the fighter pilots standing behind the booth waiting for your release, he still exuded a sense of boyish arrogance that you begrudgingly admired. He was practically lounging, for Force’s sake, his legs spread, the tails of his army green coat draping casually around his thighs and over the plasticine bench.

Jod’s face was arranged in an adequately contrite frown, but you knew him better than that. Forcing your eyes back onto your plate, you scooped up another bite of hashed potatoes into your mouth. You just wanted sustenance to fuel what was sure to be a long ride back to the embassy. Dealing with this perpetually scheming bastard had not been on your radar for tonight.

“Sooo…” his lilting voice drifted across the table. “How have you been?”

You barely restrained a scoff. “You are seriously not trying to do small talk right now.” Lifting your gaze, you saw that he had steepled his fingers together (as best he could with the chains hampering his wrists), elbows laying claim to the table and his head cocked slightly to the right. The classic Jod smirk just barely stretched the corners of his mouth.

“Isn’t that what two old friends are supposed to do when they have a chance to…how do they call it? Catch up with each other?” His eyes gleamed, though not with sincerity. Beneath the charming veneer and polite cooperation, the desperate calculations of a man who was caught, but had not surrendered, were whirring in the shadowed lines of his face.

“We are not catching up,” you frowned at him. “Your actions have caught up with you, and you alone.” You swallowed the last bite and scraped the fork harshly across the edge of your plate, hoping it would make him flinch. It didn’t.

“And of course,” you continued, exaggerating the disappointment lacing your words, “once again, Kh’ymm and I have to pick up the pieces of the chaos you unleash.” You slid your plate to the edge of the table as a server droid passed by, not bothering to turn your head.

“I really should be charging you a transport and protection fee every time I have to drag your sorry ass across the galaxy. Add on the multiple bounties on your head, and now charges of abduction and endangerment of children? Not to mention trying to take over an entire planet??” You clicked your tongue like an angry mother kroop bird.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

His answering laugh built on itself until the smirk spread through his cheeks and crinkled the corners of his eyes. The energy rolling off of him felt frayed around the edges.

“Ahh, still as passionately eloquent as ever, my dear.” Despite yourself, your heart gave a faint clench at his choice of endearment. “I truly must have caused quite the stir if you came out all this way to deal with me personally.”

“That was not a compliment.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Well, that’s true for one of us then,” he winked back. “You’ve got yourself a fancier gig than I realized. They must put a lot of trust in you.”

You ignored the slight ache in your chest. The attempted banter and familiarity threatened to spark memories that were best left untouched. Ones you thought you had left rotting in a corner, like a pirate’s forgotten carcass, speared through the heart, buried alive. Never to be seen again.

“Have you really been this bored? Trying to rack up a sheet that rivals Gorian Shard?”

He shook his head slightly, the thin smile still stretching across his face, eyes sweeping over every inch of yours.

“Or have you truly become something this cruel?”

The smirk vanished instantly. His mouth drooped, eyes gleaming still, but this time with something brittle, bitter, and desperate.

“That’s not…ugh…I didn’t…” he trailed off in frustration, silently begging you to understand.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

You studied him silently for a moment before scooting sideways off the bench and rising to your feet.

“You never do.”

A flicker of anguish overtook the pirate’s face as you nodded at the pilot to take him away. The crack in the facade almost gave you pause, but the glint of sincerity was lost as his usual mask slammed back into place.

“No, no, no, wait! I can explain…”

The droids grabbed his arms and hauled him roughly to his feet as the pilot began to maneuver them towards the door.

“I had to see if the legends were true! And I needed the credits…my crew needed the credits. We didn’t mean any harm…agh!”

One of the droids clamped onto his arm, shutting him up for a brief moment. The five of you made your way out of the crowded diner, the smell of hot caf fading into crisp night air. Only the soft sound of chirping crunch bugs interrupted your measured footsteps.

The Corellian embassy corvette you had arrived in loomed ahead. The August Prime, while not officially yours, had become somewhat of a home the last few years. She was a little weather beaten from the war, but a new coat of paint and the occasional tune up had made her quite serviceable for emissary trips, and both Chancellor Mothma and Senator Leia Organa had made sure that it was available whenever you were called upon to represent the New Republic (and by extension, them) across the galaxy. 

Your career (you were still surprised it could be called that at this point) had started when you were young, taking whatever jobs you could find in order to survive. You quickly found that you had a knack for translation, bargaining, and brokering deals, and you made a name for yourself as a reputable goods and antiquities dealer–serving a rather diverse client base, as you liked to put it. You were nowhere near the league of legendary dealers in the Core Worlds like Luthen Rael, but your willingness to work with anyone who would abide by guild laws gave you a wide variety of contacts.

After the war, you had transitioned into being an ambassador for the New Republic, serving as a liaison between the fledgling government and the thousands of planets it sought to rebuild. In your previous life, you had often joked that you were far too addicted to a hot shower to indulge in a true pirate’s lifestyle, but really your morals were a touch too scrupulous to ever let yourself linger in filth for too long. That fact, along with your connections to pirates and politicians alike–and every class in between–made you an invaluable representative. 

Sometimes a true friendship sprang up along the way, like the one you developed with the owl-ish navigational wizard, Kh’ymm. Occasionally, you found something a little more than just friendship. 

And once or twice, a lot more, if you were honest with yourself. 

Which explained the current tension running like a live wire between you and the slightly cowed, but unbroken man in front of you. The droids were heading toward the August’s boarding ramp, and you could tell by the tilt of the closely-cropped head in between them that the pirate was staring quizzically into the dark hold, as though hoping the fate that awaited him on board that vessel would suddenly blink, and miss him.    

Your stomach gave an unexpected churn. You had to see his face again.

“Jod.” It came out as a whisper.

He stopped completely, limbs rigid, back straight. The droids were forced to stop with him. 

It was the first time you had said his name aloud in years.

Willing your legs to move again, you circled until you were facing the man you had once given a piece of your heart. Or had he stolen it? You were never quite sure. All you knew was that ultimately, what he truly treasured had never been you. 

“I know you’ve seen the inside of prison cell after prison cell.” Your voice was low as you reached out your hand and cupped the side of his face gently in your palm. 

“Until you’re free of the one in here,” you tapped your finger slowly against his temple, “nothing is ever going to change.”

His eyes grew wide and heartbreakingly solemn. You couldn’t miss the tremor in his throat, nor the subtle lean he made into your hand. 

As his lips parted, you almost held your breath. But no sound came out. After a moment of those storm-colored eyes staring straight into your soul, you let go and reluctantly moved up the gangway. You didn’t look back. 

******

An hour later, you were finally back in your quarters and slumped wearily in a chair. After debriefing your captain and copilot, recording a quick message to send to Mon’s secretary ahead of your arrival, and signing off on the path back to Coruscant the ship would take in the morning, you had beelined straight for your suite and locked the door behind you. 

Glancing at your desk, you caught sight of your daily log laying haphazardly in the corner, neglected after the unexpected distress call from Kh’ymm had come in. You couldn’t believe she hadn’t told you that Jod had shown up on her doorstep several weeks before, and with four bedraggled children in tow. There hadn’t been time to argue about that, however. Having heard from one of the children–KB, you believed it was–that a group of pirates had both found and infiltrated At Attin, an old Republic mint most people in living memory had never even heard of, it was clear that a squadron had to be sent, and quickly. A call to Leia and an emergency page alert to Mon, and you had been reassigned and on your way, though you hung back a little from the fighters to give them room to do their jobs. The August Prime had quite a few turbo lasers on her, but you had no interest in serving as a blockade runner unless it was necessary.

When you showed up to one (large, but still outmanned and outgunned) pirate frigate, a population who had never seen an X-Wing before (or stars, for that matter, as you later found out that evening), and a suspiciously familiar pirate captain who was nowhere to be found, you wanted to adopt the pirate code and throw someone–preferably him–out of an airlock. 

Although the battle itself was short lived, you were wholly unprepared for the chaos that followed. At first intending to remain on the planet to establish ties to the administration there, you quickly realized that the myth behind the lost planet of At Attin, versus the reality of the sequestered population having lived their lives under the control of a well meaning, but automated central computer system, was going to require more effort than anticipated.

After talking with Undersecretary Fara, whose daughter Fern was one of the children involved in this debacle, you decided to deal with the meddling pirates first, report back to Coruscant with a sample of the solid gold credits At Attin had been sequestering all these years, and then return with a few colleagues to establish further relations. You had a feeling you might even be bringing Fara and Fern with you on one of your trips–Fern’s inquisitive nature and brash confidence reminded you of yourself, at that age. You were interested to see what some encouragement might do for the girl’s prospects, along with the other kids, as well. You had noticed Wim almost jumping out of his skin with excitement when talking to one of your fighter pilots, while Neel just seemed to be relieved to be back with his siblings and parents on solid ground. 

KB, for her part, had explained to you in less than two minutes the elaborate systems that powered the money making machine at the core of the planet. A mere fraction of the wealth found in those vaults now lay on your desk, the pile of gold dataries glittering in the low lamp light. After her explanation, you had asked to be taken down into the vaults in order to collect a small sample you could bring to the Senate for inspection. 

While leaning over the platform, the two of you waiting for the service droids to return with the chest you had provided, KB had suddenly gasped, her visor flipping down as she spotted movement further along one of the air shafts. A series of shouts floated down to both of you as a scuffle took place. It looked like some of your guards had caught another intruder. 

“It’s him.” Her voice was soft and quiet. Almost disappointed.

“Who?” You turned to the slim girl, wondering at the change in her demeanor.

“The man who helped us…and then betrayed us.” Her shoulders slumped a little. “The captain.” 

Alarm bells were ringing in your head. KB hadn’t given a name, and there had been no designators on the frigate that caught your eye. But a slight tug in your gut warned you who you were about to face, even as one of your men reported over the comm. 

“We captured the instigator, your excellence!”

You braced yourself as the platform rose back to the surface. It felt like an eternity, but really it was only a few moments before the somewhat pathetic excuse for a pirate–his grimy blue shirt and tattered coat snapping in the wind as he struggled–was thrust in front of you. 

You raised your head slowly, the world tilting off-kilter as you came face to face with a soft smirk and a pair of intense blue eyes you had never expected to see again. The air between you shimmered with recognition. 

******

Joints aching, you eased yourself up and toward the ‘fresher. There was no use in dwelling on the past now. Or the man currently chained up in the hold of this very ship. You stopped in front of the mirror and let out a low groan, grimacing at the strained lines that had etched into your forehead. You thought about washing off the grime of the last twelve hours, but you honestly weren’t sure you could stay upright much longer. 

Deciding to forego a shower, you shuffled over to your bed and began changing into a set of night clothes. You had just started to relax when you heard a faint knock and then a scuffling noise at your door. Then another knock, slightly louder this time.

You groaned again. Who could possibly still be needing your attention at…well, you didn’t want to look at the chrono and find out.

Muttering several choice curses under your breath, you crossed the room and swiped the latch on the door, ready to chastise whoever stood on the other side. But the words died in your throat as it slid open.

The figure in front of you slipped through, silent as a shadow, punching the lock on the door as it closed behind him. A scarf obscured his face (had that been on him the whole time? you distantly wondered), but that didn’t stop every nerve in your body from screaming in recognition once more. 

Before you could utter a sound, he pressed a gloved finger to your lips. That touch alone was enough to send tremors through your limbs, and he took advantage of your shock to push you slowly back across the room.

Your lips opened and closed helplessly, the cut of his coat brushing against you and the sway of his boots on the floor disintegrating any words that tried to make it past your throat. Even in the dim light, you could see his eyes twinkling with mischief like you remembered, two shining pinpricks in an otherwise dark galaxy.  

And they were utterly fixated on the curve of your mouth. 

Fuck.   

He stopped a few feet from the patch of wall between your bed and your desk, breaths coming heavily as he tore the scarf down from his face. He stared straight through you, as though he was trying to decide exactly what it was that he wanted to do. 

You couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes dropped to the chiseled edge of his mouth, remembering the insistent way those delicate, full lips used to drag against your own. 

You gulped at the memory, and his gaze shifted to track down every inch of your throat.

Before you could blink he slammed you hard into the wall, hand grasping your jaw tight, lips crushing yours in a bruising kiss. They were warmer than you remembered.

A startled, but pleased moan made its way up your throat, and just as you began to feel lightheaded, he pulled back a few centimeters. A soft gasp escaped you as he changed course, his scruff brushing against your cheek as feather light kisses tracked down the side of your jaw, in sharp contrast to the ferocity with which he had just claimed your mouth. A pleasant hum began to settle in your blood.

You knew he had seen the chest of gold gleaming on your desk. You knew that nothing good could come of this. And yet this wasn’t just a distraction, wasn’t just another calculated ploy for him to find a way to escape. Against all odds, you knew that too. 

Jod made his way back to your lips, letting just the tip of his tongue flick over you before he pulled back completely. You were stunned at how…open he looked, the lamp on your desk gently caressing the side of his face. There was no mask, no pretense in his gaze. Just a quiet, wistful seriousness that you had rarely seen before. A hint of boyish desperation, too.

“One last romp?” His voice was smooth, head cocked a little to the right in that endearingly smug way of his, but you could feel the tension strung like a wire underneath.

You shook your head, chuckling under your breath at his audacity. “You are crazy, Jod.”

He simply continued staring at you, one hand making its way to your waist and resting lightly on the jut of your hip bone, thumb beginning to draw slow circles.

You let out a huff of resignation, your fingertips trailing over the tight line of his jaw. “Only if you brought condoms.” You were only half joking.

Something like relief flashed across his face. “You know I always do,” he smirked in return.

You rolled your eyes at that. “The one thing you’re reliable for.”

A flicker of real hurt sparked in his eyes, simmering into frantic desperation. You could sense that something fragile underneath was screaming for his attention, even as he still couldn’t bear to let it have control. 

“You really are…something, my dear,” he rasped, his nostrils flaring as frustration mixed with admiration. 

Your eyes softened as they passed over his hardened features. He had aged since the last time you saw him, fine lines in places they hadn’t been before. Heavy shadows hung under his eyes, and his shortened hair was touched with grey. But the green and brown flecks that danced in his irises held the same warmth as always, glimmers of unspoken affection swirling you into their bright orbit.  

“So are you.” And you meant it.

You surged forward, capturing his mouth for your own, needing to taste him. His muffled gasp curled over your wandering tongue as you asked for entrance, thrilling at the feeling of his fingertips scraping up the sides of your waist. Grasping the high collar of his coat, you tugged it sideways, trying and failing to pull it down his shoulders. 

He chuckled at your sudden insistence, his tongue licking against yours. Lazily plundering the roof of your mouth, he awkwardly shifted one arm out of the fabric only to wrap it immediately around your waist, doing the same with the other as he let the rest of the coat fall. 

Heat pooled in your belly as he pulled you tight against him, the familiar ridges of his Quarran forged belt buckle digging into your flesh. He had shoved his leather gloves into his pocket, leaving his rough, sensitive fingers free to trace mesmerizing patterns over your thighs and hips. It almost tickled through the fabric of your dressing gown.  

Groaning as your teeth caught on his swollen lip, he reached lower and grabbed the backs of your thighs, dragging you roughly up the wall until he could wrap them around his waist. Taking a moment to adjust his stance, he pulled at the edge of your gown until it fell to the side, letting the tips of his fingers drag along your skin, all the way up to your breast. Your back arched in anticipation.

You felt the air punch out of your lungs at a sudden tilt of his hips, almost choking at the feeling of his half-hardened cock now pressing urgently against the warmth of you. He managed to graze his thumb across your nipple at the same time, and your jaw dropped as a jolt of electricity went straight to your cunt.      

“You still like that, huh,” he gave you a cheeky grin.

“I’m surprised you remember,” you retorted, flushing as you tried to hide just how much it affected you.

“I remember everything,” he replied earnestly. Sweetly. “You know I don’t fuck around, unless I have to, or I want to.” His other hand shifted slightly to keep you in place, the one on your breast teasing light, reverent circles. 

“And which one was I?” You breathed, struggling to keep your composure.

“Both.” His eyes bored into yours. “Always both.” 

Your heart stuttered, and you traced one hand slowly up the subtle angles of his chest, letting your fingers tangle in the patch of hair that tumbled over his open shirt. Clasping the other tightly behind his neck, you tugged him back against you, and he groaned in satisfaction. The heat of his mouth against yours was the only thing you wanted to feel in that moment. 

****** Jod couldn’t believe he was actually here, standing in your quarters, his belt unclasped and your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. 

He had to choke down a maniacal laugh when he first saw your face on that platform. 

Of course.

He knew that a CR90 had shown up after his frigate had been pummeled to the ground, had seen it appear in the newly dark sky as he escaped the Supervisor’s tower and made his way down to the vaults. But not on the wildest bet would he have considered that you might be inside. 

He had hoped for a clean getaway. Salvage a few dataries, pick up whoever else had escaped, and hightail it to a distant port to nurse his latest defeat in a strong bottle or two. Carefully try to ignore the long-buried wound that Wim’s unexpected concern for him had prodded. It was the only way he had survived this long.

And then you had appeared in front of him, and that ache cracked open wider than an entire kriffing galaxy spinning in orbit.  

There was nothing the universe loved more than reminding him of his failures.

Your hands were inching their way along his back, attempting to lift up the hem of the threadbare shirt he had pilfered off the floor of the Onyx Cinder. He knew what you wanted but he couldn’t bear to separate from you long enough to accommodate the motion. 

He had almost forgotten how good you tasted. The room threatened to spin around him as he breathed in your warm scent, heard the familiar gasps in your throat, felt the delicate pull of your fingers. The taste of your lips was intoxicating, but he needed more. 

He wanted to drown himself in you. 

Reluctantly straightening, he bowed his shoulders to heft you higher under his arms, clicking his tongue in amusement as you tensed with the fear that he might drop you. Crossing the extra few feet to your bed, he carefully tilted you back on the mattress, one hand still greedily grasping at your waist as he scrambled to kick off his tall boots. 

Normally pants and shirt would have followed too, and your hands had already reached for the hems again, but he was too impatient. He grabbed your wrists as they inched lower and pressed them together, fingers locking around the fragile bones. Pulling them up and crossing them over your chest, he held them gently in place, shaking his head in warning. 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, and he relished in the way your eyelids fluttered as he lowered his gaze to your chest, slowly sweeping his other hand down until he came to the ties still holding your robe loosely together.  

“On, or off?” His voice was gentle, interested. You nodded. “Off then.”

His hand moved quickly, unlacing the ties and brushing the garment aside. Releasing your wrists, he lowered his face until his nose dragged against your sternum, licking and sucking his way across your salty skin. His pebbled tongue scraped roughly over one nipple and you arched against him, your throat and chest gleaming in the lamp light. His cock twitched as your hips squirmed beneath him, and he laved over your nipple one more time before making his way down your stomach.

He could smell your arousal as he kissed along the groove of your hips, and he grinned at the sight of just how soaked you already were.

“All this for me?” He teased, eyes narrowing in amusement as he glanced up at you. 

“I don’t think you need me to inflate that head of yours any further,” you quipped back, pretending to scowl as he carefully slid your underwear off your legs and onto the floor. You had missed this ridiculous banter.

“Oh, but I really think I do,” he winked, his smile fading as he closed his eyes and breathed you in. Head dipping, he kissed softly up your thigh until you were squirming, silently begging him to move closer.

Digging his fingers into your hip, he finally let his tongue take what it wanted, reaching out with just the tip to tease your folds before fully diving in. You were soaking wet, your lips slick and dripping onto his chin as he drank you in. Letting his tongue wander, he reached up and cupped a breast with one hand, the other holding your hip secure against the mattress.  

Wonderful. You were wonderful. Your taste was so sweet and rich. You filled his palm perfectly. Memories began to trickle back, unbidden, as he pulled you even closer and dipped his tongue into your pussy just to feel you quiver. Days spent arguing over the worth of his latest finds, your smile smooth and eyes filled with a challenge that he could never back down from. Nights spent mapping each other’s bodies while spinning dreams of exploring the galaxy. Sitting side by side, hours whiled away but never wasted. One of the few gleams in an otherwise dim existence. 

Suddenly he felt one of your hands curl over his head, brushing softly against his hair as you sought to anchor yourself in his presence. The motion was comforting at first, a slight tension in his scalp soothed by the tips of your cool fingers. 

Until a jarringly recent memory launched a mutiny in his mind–the sensation of his head bowing under the cascade of a very different kind of lust earlier that evening.

The waterfall of credits. A room literally bursting with the golden light of limitless wealth. A life-long dream–no, need–finally come true.

He had the sickening feeling that after today, the pursuit of security he so ravenously clung to now felt more like an anchor that was dragging him down faster than any shipwreck. Shackles too thick for him to casually break, unlike the handcuffs he had disengaged twice already with a subtle flick of the Force. 

No. No, no, NO. He shook his head in frustration, biting roughly down on your thigh in a futile attempt to disguise his own contradictions. He wasn’t just thirsty. He was hungry. He always had been, and here you were willingly satiating him, and he wanted it to be enough. Needed it to be enough. You deserved everything he had to give.

And everything he couldn’t. 

Shifting your leg at the knee, he rutted his shoulders under you and lifted you to his face again, devouring you like the starving man he was. Your back arched, your hands clenching helplessly as your nerves trembled from his onslaught. He focused on your clit, easing one finger, and then two, into your warm depths as he sucked, feeling your hips buck against him like he knew they would. 

He pulled you closer, ignoring the pulsing in his own groin, fingers relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure. He chased every twitch, every moan, feeling your walls tighten until finally, with a wrench of his knuckles, it was enough. He shivered as your taste flooded his mouth, gratified to hear the whimpers leaving your throat as he flattened his tongue and licked you clean. 

He didn’t come up for air until he realized your hands were tugging at him, begging him to slow, the pressure now too much. Catching one of them in his, he gently kissed your knuckles in acknowledgment. The cool air shifted against his back as he disentangled himself, and it suddenly registered just how tight and uncomfortable his clothes had become. They were practically soaked through from his efforts. He gave you a quick smile and sat up, peeling off his shirt and pants haphazardly before crawling back over to you and flopping down with a sigh.

******

Still trying to catch your breath, you reached down and ran your hand lightly over him, admiring the view you had been craving since the moment he stepped through your door. His wiry, lithe frame had always held good muscle, and the curve of his ass against your palm was a comforting weight. He would never know just what the sight of him with his mouth buried between your legs meant to you. 

Your lips pursed as your heartbeat began to slow. You hadn’t missed the earlier shift in his mood, but you decided not to question it. You just ached for him. 

“Was anything on you actually yours? Besides the belt,” you gestured at the glint of his buckle half buried under the pile of clothes now strewn on the floor. His weapons had all been confiscated, but even those had been borrowed or stolen. “Oh, and your coat, of course.” 

He paused for a moment, his lips tilting in a smirk. “Well, I would say this is,” he gestured down at his stiff, aching cock nestled against your thigh. “But I’m afraid that belongs to you at the moment.” Once the words left his mouth, he realized how little of a joke it actually was. 

“Oh really?” You couldn’t help but laugh gently, and he looked almost relieved. “Well, that’s nice to know.” 

Your fingers trailed lower, relishing the way he began to squirm as the back of your fingers brushed over his stomach, his hair, and lower until they finally whispered teasingly over his shaft. His jaw clenched, a half smile belying the slight shake of his head. 

“Careful,” he rasped, eyes easing shut as you took him fully in hand. You rubbed your thumb gently over the velvet skin, humming a little as he curled into you, chasing the sensation. Pulling long, smooth strokes, you reacquainted yourself with his thickness, the veins running up the side, the way he curved as he hardened in your fist. 

His jaw slackened a little as you picked up the pace, and you shifted yourself so that you could lean over and still look up at him. Pausing, you ran your knuckles lightly over him again and waited until he opened his eyes, and then slowly, you let your face hover over him, lips parting, until you felt him throb in anticipation. Gripping him tightly, you reached out your tongue and licked. First a quick swipe of his tip, and then letting your tongue circle his head, savoring his salty taste. You licked a wide, slow stripe up his shaft, and then welcomed him into the heat of your mouth with a rhythm of pumps and licks, a groan occasionally escaping him at the twists of your hand. 

A glance caught him biting his lip, eyes half-lidded, and you smirked as you leaned down, mouth wide, and took him in as far as you could, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked. Your nose just barely brushed against the curls at his base. 

“Hhhah, wait, wait,” he gasped, reaching down and fiercely gripping your chin to haul you up and off of him. His eyes were wild. Your teeth scraped against him in the process and you almost thought he would come right then and there.

He flipped you over, pulling you up to the top of the bed, and it was your turn to whimper at the feel of his teeth as he mouthed along your neck. Grabbing the packet he had set on your bedside table, he pulled away just long enough to sheath himself before crowding you with his hips. He kissed you deeply, reaching down and lining himself up to sink into you, slowly at first, and then all at once.

Every muscle thrummed at the stretch of him, and you closed your eyes as you felt your walls pulse, willing yourself to relax. It was almost overwhelming, the teasing pace he set, deliberately keeping you both at the edge. You moaned helplessly. There was something about him that could reach places in you that no one else could. 

He closed his hand around your throat and your eyes flashed, the slight pressure on either side of your neck heightening every sense. You were so close. 

“I need you to come on my cock”, he growled, almost breathless from the heat of you. “Need you…to…” his hips faltered for a moment. “Give me one more, pretty girl.” 

You murmured something he couldn’t quite catch. He released your neck and moved his thumb to meticulously explore the curve of your collarbone, letting you both catch your breath.

“What was that?” 

A small, teasing smile crept onto your face. 

“Yes sir.” Your voice was light and airy. 

His eyes widened comically, his hips stuttering with unexpected violence. That was…oh, that was…

Before he could muster any scrap of control, your hips snapped up in desperation to meet his, giving him room to slide one hand under your sacrum, fingers nestling in the indents on either side. 

Your fingertips clung to the planes of his shoulders, traced the cage of his ribs in a plea no words could convey. He couldn’t leave you wanting. 

“You can let go.” Your whispered release floated into his ear.

“I need you with me.” 

Shoving one elbow down for support, he twisted his thumb over your clit, gathering your slick in calculated circles and pressing, begging you to follow him into the void, to yield to the burst of heat flaring down your spine. 

Until with a few staggered gasps, you both fell over the edge in a pulsing surrender. 

******

Once breath settled back into your lungs, you rolled over and reached for him across the tangle of sheets, your heart catching as he turned to you with a languid, peaceful smile. 

“Sorry for the mess.”  

‘I mean, there’s ways to deal with that.” Your eyes glinted with mischief. Flipping onto your stomach, you flicked your tongue over him and then moved to take him back into your mouth. 

His hand flew to your head. “I wouldn’t do that…unless you want a repeat.”

You pulled off and gave him a sweetly innocent grin. “I have a perfectly good shower right there, if you’d prefer that instead.” 

“Are you calling me dirty?” he scoffed.

You slid off the bed and sauntered through the room, pausing at the ‘fresher door. “Very,” you winked. 

He groaned, head in his hands, before forcing himself up. A persuasive glint filled his eyes as he caught you by the waist and pulled you into the shower, muffling your laughter with determined lips. 

******

You both collapsed back on your bed, cleaned off and utterly spent. You were shocked that you hadn’t fallen asleep standing up. 

Jod wrapped himself around you, chin tucked against your shoulder, legs slotted between yours. You were savoring how the two of you fit together, limb against limb, and you let your hand wander up and down his back in a soothing sweep. 

You were about to drift off when you remembered something you had been meaning to ask. 

“So, how did you actually get up here? Don’t tell me I need to completely overhaul my security systems.” Your voice was thick with drowsiness.

He snorted. “I mean, I’m sure your crew is doing their best,” a flippant wave contradicting the sentiment until a yawn interrupted him. “But you seem to have forgotten that I’m quite capable of getting myself out of handcuffs when the situation requires.”

You slowly smiled. You had spent more than one night taking advantage of that fact in the past, though it apparently had slipped your mind since then. 

“Guess I need to start hunting for some of those old repression binders that could keep Force users in line if this is going to become a regular occurrence.”

You knew it was a horrible joke before it even left your mouth, and you belatedly winced, holding your breath as Jod stilled beside you. 

But his response was not the rebuke you expected. 

“I…” he cleared his throat, his voice muffled against the side of your arm. “I told them…about Ninaa.” 

You didn’t trust yourself to move. “Told who?”

He glanced up at you before burying his face in your chest. “The kids.” 

He had been drunk, and very morose, the night he told you about the Jedi woman who had found him as a ragged child. He was begging on the streets, she was a survivor on the run. They were perfect for each other. Jod learned a little about his natural giftings from her, and they kept each other safe. Until they couldn’t. 

“Told them how she died. What she taught me, the potential she saw in me”–he almost spit the word out of his mouth–”only for those bastards to use her own lightsaber to kill her in front of me.” His teeth ground in their sockets.  

The children must have gotten deeper under his skin than you thought if he had unburdened that story on them.

“And then I threatened to do the same thing to them. As if I could convince myself that I could actually follow through on it.”

He exhaled a slow breath, his features cycling through emotion after another. And then, so quietly you weren’t sure the words hadn’t just appeared in your mind–

“Don’t give up on me just yet.” 

The weight of his body on yours was suddenly crushing.

“I’ve never given up on you.” Your pulse raced. “Those kids haven’t either.”

His voice was measured, low. A steel knife dragged against the edge of a whetstone.

“Yeah they have. Just like everyone else.”

Before you could protest, he lifted his head, eyebrows raised. “I know you don’t trust me fully. Nor should you.” His mouth drooped in defeat.

Your lips parted but no sound escaped at first. Your hands trembled slightly. 

“There’s always time to surprise them.” Surprise me. 

He lowered his head in resignation.

“Maybe.” Someday.

You hesitantly swept your hand over his strained shoulders, wishing you could pierce through the shadows engulfing you both. Your voice was barely a whisper. 

“You know those pinpricks of light you always talk about? The few good things in the galaxy that are so… sparse and unattainable.” 

You waited. It was a long moment before he nodded, reluctantly. 

“They only stay pinpricks when you keep running away from them. Up close…those stars are suns. They give light. Warmth. Life.”

His limbs tightened around you. His breathing was so shallow you almost thought he had fallen asleep. 

“Yes.” The quiet hiss startled you.

“But the sun also burns.”

The night itself seemed to hold its breath at his admission. Your heart spasmed in your chest, frayed nerves bare and broken at the acknowledgement of the open wound seeping into the air between you. 

The starved desires of a frightened child whose every grasp for the light left him shrouded in darkness. Fear of abandonment leaving ash on everything he touched. 

The silent screams of a boy who had never been able to become the man he thought he would be. 

The barrier on At Attin may have evaporated, but a different, more insidious fog swirled around the Force-sensitive pirate’s heart and mind, clouding him from your sight. All you could do was hold onto him, keep a sliver of hope for him shining like a beacon in the night sky. 

Hope that one day, that light might become a flame that could illuminate rather than ignite and burn.

A gleam that wouldn’t cheapen into fools’ gold. 

The moments warped around you, plasma slipping through a time-glass, until the man in your arms shifted slightly. His hands dug into your sides, lightly at first, and then gripping you like a vise. He leaned up, his eyes meeting yours in mute exhaustion, and pressed a slow, cautious, achingly tender kiss to your mouth.  

You fell asleep to the imagined hum of a lightsaber, slashing and cutting as terrified screams filled the air, burning a hole in the hopes and dreams of the poor boy who carried its scars still. 

******

Jod could still feel your lips on his as he stood in the doorway of your room, the gasps of laughter (and more) you had shared with him through the night echoing in his skull. It was early morning, the sun about to rise over the newly exposed plains on At Attin. He had to move if he was going to steal one of the RZ-1 interceptors docked on the hull of the ship and make his escape. 

But he couldn’t stop staring at the one streak of light that trickled through the curtain onto your peaceful, sleeping face, framed by your loose hair and the sheet he had pulled carefully over your shoulder.  

Slung under his arm was the chest full of credits that had been sitting on your desk. Face strained with regret, he turned one of the datary shards over in his palm. It was cold–hard–the sharpened edge firm and unyielding. Such a stark contrast to the softness of your body, the sunshine of your lips, the pliant way your curves filled his hands. He clenched his fist until the sting of the metal sent a jolt through his palm, blood beading in its wake. 

He was itching to choose the warmth of you instead–to turn away for once from the blinding gleam of the forged gold pieces at his side–but he still couldn’t make himself do it. Not quite yet. He couldn’t shake off the darkness that surrounded him on a persistent, daily basis, and until he found a path through that haze, he couldn’t bear to shroud you in it too. 

His jaw jutted forward, lips pursed in a scowl that threatened to slice the cool air. 

No attachments. The one rule of the Jedi he had always been able to follow through on. Forget ‘em. That’s what he had told Wim when the boy was crying, scared and shaking from missing his parents. He recalled boasting like a mynocked fool that he had done just that. 

He shook his head. Call him a fool if he ever found it within himself to forget Ninaa, or those damn kids–or you.

Especially you. 

He pulled his scarf up over his face, double-checked that your blaster was still cocked at his hip, shut your door behind him, and left. 

******

A beam of sunlight bursting at the seam of your eyelids finally woke you. Eyes screwed tight, you immediately buried your face in the cooling relief of your pillow, not caring whether you had slept past your alarm or not.

Until the memories of the previous night that led to why, exactly, you had turned off said alarm came rushing back, unbidden. 

Your hand stretched out hesitantly, feeling along the mattress. You knew even before you opened your eyes.

He was gone. 

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you reluctantly stretched your arms, spine, and neck in turn, and scanned the room. 

You weren’t surprised that the chest of gold was gone from your desk. Nor even that one of your blasters had disappeared too (although it was a rather expensive antique, damn him).  

What was surprising was what the missing pirate had left behind. In the middle of your desk, surrounded by a sea of papers, lay a small bag of coins–deliberately culled from the cache he had absconded with–the worn clasp from his belt, and a hastily scribbled note. 

You picked that up first, willing your fingers not to shake.

You told me once to make my life the one I want to live.

I haven’t forgotten. I promise you, I will.

A hitched breath escaped you, turning into a laugh halfway through. 

Promises were like breathing to him. But this was one you would try to believe.

Laying the letter down with a sigh, you picked up his buckle and ran your fingers over the familiar scuff marks. It had been years since you had first seen its plundered steel. A token of the meager threads that held a pirate’s humanity together. 

Not that the buckle’s first owner had been human at all. Originally strapped around the waist of the Quarren upstart Kragan Gorr, it made its way into Jod’s hands during a scuffle in the Outer Rim, which you once called a nuisance, and would later call fate. 

Visiting Kh’ymm and rather bored at the time, you had agreed to join Jod on a supply run when he picked up a distress signal near the Kiax Nebula. You learned the hard way that the one-eyed pirate Grox was running a grift to lure unsuspecting ships into the system, before stripping and selling them (and whatever cargo and crew they contained) to a group called the Tech Masters, who ruled the nearby planet of Trionax. 

Jod had been intrigued by the rumors of ships going missing, tales of a hidden junkyard planet somewhere in the nebulae, and whispers about the loot Grox was accumulating. He never could resist a tall tale.

Convincing you that the scavenging possibilities would be worth the detour, Jod followed the signal until you found yourselves locked into a tractor beam. Predictably, the two of you were no match for the formidable Lasat, although you put up a dirty fight. Gruesomely efficient, with only Kragan and two others for backup, Grox had eventually shipped you off to Trionax alongside a rather banged up Corellian light freighter he had captured on the same trip. 

Unbeknownst to everyone until you landed, the freighter was not unmanned. Inconvenient capture turned into a fateful rendezvous as you met the woman who would become your employer, role model, and friend. Why Senator Organa, her blond, innocent-faced twin, and their blue and silver astromech were wandering around in that part of space was beyond you, but you didn’t have time to question the situation. 

Trionax had remained hidden for so long due to an artificial force field protecting the planet. After realizing your ships couldn’t take off even if you could sneak back on board, Leia was prepared to brashly try and force a way out of the situation. You had a feeling Luke both could and would back up her threats, but the Tech Masters had no patience for being patronized. Trying a different tack, you let Jod and Luke sweet talk their way into finding a communications panel, while you summoned every power of negotiation and a pocket translator you had to try and stall for them. 

And it worked, Force knew how. Alerting the Empire to the planet’s location, you all managed to slip away in the chaos that unfolded as a Star Destroyer appeared in the atmosphere above. 

Not, however, before Leia slipped you her comm number, muttering something about reaching out if you ever wanted to lend your impressive skills to a good cause.

That had been years ago, before the Empire fell. 

You and Jod returned home in one piece, the stolen belt buckle the only memento of your unexpected adventure. But something had shifted in you, and bargaining your way through Jod’s whims was becoming less of a thrill, especially when capture and near death were involved. 

While you stayed in touch for a while, the two of you drifted apart, Kh’ymm giving you updates on his expanding crew and latest escapades until even she lost contact with the man you had once dreamed of a future with. She was never willing to divulge why.

And now here you were. Headed back to Coruscant with gold left in your possession by the same pirate who had tried to steal the lot of it–twice. A trusted ambassador carrying news to your Chancellor of a planet that might as well be from another galaxy. Crafting the explanation you would owe your senator on how exactly one of your prisoners had managed to take a detour–again. Choices made, paths crossed, fates open.

And yet, you knew Leia would understand having a soft spot for handsome pirates who were nothing but trouble. 

A sudden buzz from your comm pierced through your introspection, the flickering blue figure of your haggard-looking first mate appearing in front of you. 

“Excuse me for waking you, but there’s been a disturbance. We believe one of the fighters took off a little while ago without authorization.”

You chuckled inwardly, rolling your eyes at the pirate’s predictability. You had known from the moment your security dragged him up the August Prime’s boarding ramp that he wouldn’t accept leaving the same way. 

You held down the receiver to answer.

“It’s alright, I was already awake. Thanks for notifying me. I doubt there’s anything we can do at this point, but I’ll be right there.” 

Jod’s penance would have to wait. 

Prison had never really suited him, anyway.

✨ Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off pls!) ✨ @jetii @probadbatch @arctrooper69 @freesia-writes @drafthorsemath @sunshinesdaydream @heyclickadee @burningfieldof-clover @the-little-moment @dreamless-daydreamer @ladyzirkonia

[corazondebeskar-reads]

Coming Soon

I’m back, babes, and here’s what’s comin’ atcha.

get some on my love - September 23

for @justagalwhowrites’ Joel’s Birthday Celebration (QZ Joel & breeding kink)

“Pretty sure you said you were never gonna look at my ugly mug again,” he adds as he shuts the door behind you.

“Yeah, well,” you mutter.

He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Yeah, well,” he mocks. “Well, what? No one else want that sloppy pussy as payment?”

“You like my pussy, jackass,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, I do,” he says, cornering you against the door, back hitting it with a thump. He leers, leaning in. “You know why it’s so sloppy? ‘Cause I fuckin’ ruined it, and you loved it.”

something worse - September 30

for @burntheedges’ roll-a-trope challenge (Din Djarin, enemies to lovers)

The only thing keeping you from disappearing into the vast and empty galaxy is Gideon.

He’s not a particularly pleasant man, but he gives you purpose, even if you’re not entirely sure it’s worth the effort. But every day, you rise from bed, bathe, dress, and follow the whim of this vainglorious monster made man, and you do not think about life. You do not think about the trees or the seas or a reason to breathe.

You think about duty, not desire.

And so it goes.

Which is all to say that when the “trooper,” a glorified droid, hands you a baby, you freeze.

On the outside, you’re impassive. Unmoving, unfeeling, unruffled. Inside, there’s a buzzing taking up residence in your brain. Something fuzzy and uncomfortable.

You hold the child by the waist at a healthy distance. It looks afraid. You don’t blame it. The hangar of Gideon’s cruiser is a cold, desolate place. You are a cold, unwelcoming face.

and then…

of rage and ruin chapter six - October 7

His mouth is on you before you’ve gotten your bearings. His huge, hot palms spread you wide so he can feast. He tries to control it, tries to stay human for you, but the wolf can no longer abide your request. He stays the man—mostly. His face morphs, not that you can see anything beyond the bushy eyebrows and the ears.

Kinktober 2024?

“Toni, are you doing Kinktober?” asked literally no one.

Answer: hell yeah! I don’t know what though. Probably not 31 separate stories, which is what I did last year. We’ll see!

[obiwansito]

the bombs were close

the great war - chapter two

playlist 𐐒𐐚 taglist ʚĭɞ fic masterlist

pairing- obi wan x f!reader

word count- 5.09k

summary- your worst fear had come true. grievous was attacking coruscant, and now you had to protect the planet you grew up in. and, finally, be able to reunite with your lover after many weeks.

tags for this chapter- battle descriptions, canon typical violence, tw: jedi council /hj, smut (+18 mdni), intrusive thoughts.

a/n- this (maybe) will be the only smut on the fic so enjoy it!!

You rushed into the Temple hangar, several Jedi were gathered and ready to fight. You pushed your way through the crowd, finding Master Windu and Master Saesee Tii, who were giving orders.

“Masters.” They noticed you. You were serious, your Jedi General mode on. You were ready to help defend the planet where you had been raised. “What about the Senate?”

“Each senator has their security team, and they are already being evacuated to safe locations. Master Ti was sent to guard the Chancellor, and Master Yoda and I will guard the outside of the Senate building.”

You nodded, and then Windu spoke your last name. “Your battalion was sent to secure the perimeter near the evacuation routes, droids are everywhere. Join them and reinforce them. May the force be with you.”

You headed towards your speeder, your comlink beeping. You answered immediately, you could guess who it was.

“General.” Your commander's voice sounded stressed. Gunfire could be heard clearly on the other end of the line.

“Forge. Send me the coordinates, I'm on my way.”

“Yes, sir.” You received the request seconds later, and were on your way, moving along the air roads of Coruscant that were currently empty due to the emergency. On the way, you encountered some Separatist ships heading straight for a building. Without thinking twice, you opened fire, aiming at the exact angle to explode the engines of the fighters.

You were not a better pilot than Anakin, but you could defend yourself very well.

As you shot down a few more ships, you managed to spot the 621st, your battalion. Countless droids were heading towards them, but your men could handle it. Not for nothing they were some of the best in the GAR.

You headed toward them, but a buzzing in the force made you realize you were being pursued. On your speeder screen, you saw three Separatist ships following you.

“Kriff.” You accelerated sharply, spinning between the skyscrapers to try to divert them. One of the ships tried to follow you, but failed and crashed, exploding in a shower of sparks and debris.

You tried to pass in the middle of two narrow buildings, hoping that one would crash or not enter, but you were unsuccessful. Both followed you, you could feel the lasers near the wings of your speeder.

You watched on the screen and noticed that one of the fighters was getting closer and closer. You took a deep breath and disengaged the engines all at once, letting your speeder glide without momentum, slowing down instantly. The fighter behind you flew past, surprised by your action. You reacted quickly and reactivated the engines to fire at it, destroying it before it could turn.

There was only one left.

You tried to increase speed, but it was too close. The enemy shots hit the back of your speeder, sending sparks flying from the control panel.

“No, no, no...” You mentally braced yourself for impact. You jumped out of your seat at the last second, your speeder crashing as you used the Force to soften your fall. You stretched out your arms and with a final thrust you landed, rolling gently on the ground before coming to a stop on your feet.

“Now I understand why Obi-wan hates flying.” You muttered, gently resting your hands on your belly. Now that you were pregnant, you couldn't afford to do as many Jedi acrobatics as you were used to. “I'm sorry, little one.” You apologized to your baby, even though it was ridiculous because they couldn't really hear you. Or maybe they could? You didn't know how Force-sensitive pregnancies worked.

Your seconds of peace were short lived, for the explosion had drawn the attention of a group of droids now approaching you. You took a deep breath, pulling your lightsabers from your belt and igniting them, their purple glow glowing through the smoke.

“A Jedi!” One of the droids exclaimed, all pointing at you. You closed your eyes, using the Force to shoot down the first arrivals. When they started firing, you managed to evade all of their attacks, moving into the crowd and destroying them with ease. After spending three years at war, droid fights were a piece of cake.

You smashed through several with your lightsabers, but most you could detect with your mind and you pushed them with the force, sending them flying away.

You were decapitating one when your comlink beeped. “General, where are you?”

“I had a... situation.” You sent another droid flying away, who was shouting something about just getting out of the factory and being too young to die. “It's almost under control, I'm on my way.”

“Good, we're waiting for you.”

Once you were done with the droids, you made your way to your battalion's position. Since you grew up on Coruscant, you knew the place well and could easily locate yourself.

You were behind a piece of rubble, the droids still didn't see you. You braced yourself and jumped using the force, landing right next to Forge, who was tearing apart a B-1.

“It's good to see you, Commander.”

“Ah, General. About time.” You smiled at him, dodging the enemy lasers, bouncing them back at themselves.

“It was a good break, wasn't it? Two weeks. You didn't miss me much?”

Forge rolled his eyes, tossing an electromagnetic grenade towards some droids, which fell to the ground electrocuted. “Actually, yes it was a good break. It lasted longer than we've ever had before. The boys didn't know what to do with so much time off.”

You smiled slightly, but before you could respond, a shudder in the Force stopped you. You looked to the side, and found one of your men, Map, surrounded by droids. He was doing fine on his own, but he was being surrounded.

Without hesitation, you extended your hand, pulling them toward you with the Force. In one swift motion, your lightsaber pierced through them, scattering fragments in every direction. As the final one fell, you looked up to the clone. “Are you alright, trooper?”

He nodded. “Thank you, General. I thought that would be the end of me.”

“Not while I'm here.”

You turned your attention back to the battlefield, making casual conversation with Forge. Fewer and fewer droids were arriving, and you would be able to go help somewhere else.

“So, where were you when all this started happening?”

The commander avoided making eye contact, focusing on shooting a droid. “Uh... In the barracks, with... the guys?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. Obi-wan was right, clones were very bad at lying. “You were with your little pantoran, weren't you?”

A few months ago, you had discovered that Forge was having a secret affair with Shen, a lady-in-waiting to Senator Riyo Chuchi. The two of them had met when you and he had been assigned as their guards during a mission.

He blushed, looking around nervously, as if verifying that no one had heard what you had just said. “I don't know what you're talking about, sir.”

“I hope you at least told her I said hi.”

He cleared his throat. “Why do you think Grievous is here, anyway?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you noticed his not-very-subtle way of changing the subject. “He's sending a lot of droids to the surface. It's almost like he wants to keep us busy. Like he wants to have a...” Shit. “A distraction.”

“But a distraction for what? What's so important here?”

And as the last droid fell, you both looked at each other, realizing how blind you'd been. “The Chancellor.”

You set aside the shock, immediately grabbing your comlink. “Master Windu, the Chancellor. Grievous wants the Chancellor.”

The Jedi's voice sounded somber and deeper than normal. “It is too late now.”

A massive ship loomed between the skies of Coruscant, and between the closing hatch, you could see it: The half-droid was laughing maniacally, as he held Chancellor Palpatine, who was looking at him with a frightened expression.

You hurried to the temple meeting room, Forge following close behind. As you entered, Master Windu and Master Yoda were standing around the Holo-table.

“What happened?” you asked approaching. “I thought Shaak Ti was with the Chancellor.”

“That's right. But Grievous managed to overpower her and took him away.” Windu exclaimed, who was folding his arms.

"In orbit, Grievous's ship remains. Strange, the situation is, but advantage of it, we can take." The grandmaster looked worried.

“I'll go.” You said decisively. “I can rescue Palpatine, I've faced the General several times.”

But before you could say more, Windu interrupted you. “Skywalker and Kenobi are on their way. They'll be in charge of rescuing him.”

You frowned. “Weren't they on Yerbana?”

“They were. But they have been warned and will be here by the end of the hour.”

“But... I'm sorry master, I don't understand.”

“You don't have to understand anything. That's what's going to be done, end of story.”

Then, you remembered something. “Wait. Didn't... they tell you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last night, Ahsoka... I mean, former Padawan Tano called Admiral Yularen's ship. She said Maul had been found?”

Windu pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he didn't want to hear any more about it. “I guess Skywalker told you.”

You almost laughed. Obviously, Anakin had told you. Of course you didn't have a secret relationship with one of the council members. Oh, had you mentioned to them that you were pregnant?

The Master's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Obi-wan mentioned it to us, but we were in the middle of our problem here. We told them they should come as soon as possible.”

“But...”

He raised his voice, firm. “I hope you understand the gravity of the situation we're in here. The heart of the republic has been attacked and the Supreme Chancellor was kidnapped.”

You nodded. “I know.” You bit your tongue trying not to answer him, remembering your master's words. Don't fight with the Council....

“I'm glad you understand. If your commander doesn't need you, you can go back to your classes. The younglings are waiting.”

You sighed, reluctantly agreeing. You didn't mind taking care of the little ones, but you were capable of so much more. Only the Council didn't want to see it.

You bowed to the masters, leaving the room quietly with Forge behind you. Once you were in the hallway, you turned to look at him. “Are the boys all alright, are there many losses?”

“I'm glad to say no, General. Bones told me the wounded are already on their way to the infirmary.”

“Very good. Are you going home?”

He scoffed. “I wish I was. But I'm afraid there's paperwork waiting for me. And for you too, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, don't remind me. Anyways, don't stay late. I don't think your girl would like it...”

He blushed, ignoring what you said. “Good afternoon, General.” He gave you a military salute and left, leaving you alone in the halls of the Jedi Temple.

“All right children, now, can you tell me what we learned in class today?”

There was no answer. You frowned, the little ones were quite distracted today. You supposed that was normal, given the chaos of the morning.

You approached a zabrak boy, who was busily engaged in telling his friend something. The latter nudged him, causing him to quiet down and look at you intently. “Zaru, do you have something to share with the class?”

“Ehm, no, Master. Sorry.”

“Oh, but you seemed so focused. Don't you want to tell me?”

He blushed, but spoke almost mumbling. “I was telling Kelen about how Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi rescued the Chancellor. I overheard a knight telling his Padawan about it.” As he spoke, his voice became more excited. “Apparently, Master Skywalker defeated Count Dooku, and saved Master Kenobi! Grievous escaped, but they destroyed his ship! Isn't that amazing?”

You chuckled, patting him on the head. “Yes, dear. But you can save the gossip for later. We're in class right now.”

He nodded, pouting. “Yes, Master.”

Just then, the clock chimed, marking the end of the hour. You sighed. “You're saved, kids. You better come prepared next class.”

You watched as the younglings left the room one by one, but someone was missing. It was Kyla.

“Little one? Are you alright?” You kneeled down to stand at her level.

“Yes, master. It's just... I got a little scared. After this morning.”

“Oh, baby girl. It's okay, it's completely normal. But it's over now. Everything's fine now.”

That didn't seem to calm her down. “I know, but it's just... I shouldn't feel scared, right? We're Jedi.”

“We are, but we're also sentient beings. Being Jedi isn't about repressing your emotions, though many interpret it that way. It's about having control over them and not letting them rule you. Do you think I'm not scared when I go on dangerous missions? Maker, of course I am. But you don't have to let it get to you, little girl.”

She nodded, still lost in thought. “I agree, Master. It's just...” She sighed. “Sorry, I know I shouldn't think about the future. But what if my future master doesn't think like that?”

You felt a pang in your chest, and all the guilt you had been trying to banish from your thoughts automatically returned. Still, you smiled reassuringly at her. “Don't worry about it, little one. I'm sure your future master will guide you in the best way.”

You would had been able to do it.

“I trust you, master.”

You caressed her face, getting up. “Very well, my dear. Now, you should go. You don't want to miss dinner, do you?”

She giggled, waving goodbye and heading out the door. You were finally alone.

You grabbed your things, lost in thought.

On one hand, there was the matter of the younglings. Kyla's words echoed in your head. You could have guaranteed her a great future. But now it was impossible.

Memories of the morning's battle still haunted you. You were still upset with the Council, it hurt you that they didn't see you capable of helping in a mission of such importance, when you had shown them more than once how strong you were. And not only physically, but also mentally.

But all those bad thoughts dissipated when you remembered something. Obi-wan was home.

You had felt him earlier, his warm, comforting force mark lingering through the halls. Unfortunately, you hadn't had time to look for him, as you were in class, and you assumed he was busy meeting with the Council. He had probably spent hours there.

You thought of Anakin, he was also at home. If you knew him well, he was probably with Padmé. Your heart grew joyful, surely he already knew the good news. He would be so excited.

As you walked to your rooms, you nervously debated whether it was time to tell Obi-wan. It was already nighttime, surely he would come to see you. How complicated would it be to tell him, “Hey love, you know how we're at war and all, and that our organization doesn't allow us to have partners, but we still do it because we love each other, even though it's very complicated? Well, guess what?”

You sighed. Maybe you shouldn't kill yourself so much thinking about it, surely in the moment it would come naturally to you and everything would be fine.

When you arrived, you headed to your 'fresher to take a long shower. The day had been pretty heavy, but there was nothing that hot water wouldn't solve.

You put on your most comfortable robe, made yourself some tea and settled into your bed, your datapad at hand to finally report on some missions. You thought about meditating, but you were too tired and would probably end up falling asleep. Pregnancy was making you a little weak.

You were sending the report of one of the last missions you had before returning to Coruscant when you felt a warmth in the force. That recognizable mark that made you feel butterflies, as if you were still a teenager.

You held your breath, your gaze darting to the door, which someone was opening with your code.

Within seconds, Obi-wan Kenobi materialized in your room, smiling shyly at you and closing the door behind him.

“You're here.” You whispered, smiling at him like a fool. You were so sensitive, you felt like you were going to cry. But it was the first time you'd seen him face to face in weeks and shit, you'd missed him so much.

”Forgive me for not coming earlier.“ He took off his cloak, leaving it delicately on your desk chair, and walking over to your bed. “I was in meeting with the Council. There was a general report on the sieges, and we were going to report on the fight this morning, but Anakin never showed up.”

You chuckled at that, watching his every move. “Don't worry, I've been busy too... I can just now sit down to rest.”

He sat down next to you, and you set your datapad down on your nightstand, focusing all your attention on him. You ran a hand through his beard, always groomed. But you could notice he was starting to get some white hairs.

He had a few wrinkles, a product of the stress of war. Still, he looked incredibly handsome. You traced every mole, every mark on his face, as he looked up at you in admiration.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered.

“I missed you so much too, my darling.”

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you threw yourself into his arms, giving him a warm embrace. His familiar scent comforted you, made you forget all the troubles of your life and the galaxy. It was just you and him, forever.

He stroked your hair, his breathing calm. “Coming back to the Temple always makes me feel at peace... but more so since I'm with you.”

You laughed a little, pulling away and coming within inches of his lips. “Always so cheesy...”

“And you love it, dear.”

You kissed him, your stomach going crazy from feeling his lips for the first time in weeks. You were finally complete, your life was back and he was kissing you right now.

You climbed into his lap, his hands finding your waist and your arms wrapping around his neck. It wasn't a lustful kiss, but an intense, emotionally charged one. You had missed him so much.

You broke apart after a few minutes, gasping for air. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen. You could never get tired of that sight.

He brushed a lock away from your face. “I missed this so much.”

You both chuckled, your hearts racing, like two teenagers in love.

Suddenly, a doubt returned to your mind. You became serious, but fiddled with his hair. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” His thumbs caressed your waist, making your skin bristle.

“What happened with Ahsoka's call?”

Obi-wan tensed slightly. “Maul is on Mandalore. Anakin helped her with reinforcements, split up the 501st and sent Rex.”

That was a relief to you. So, there was indeed a chance of capturing him. But you could tell something else was affecting your boyfriend.

“I informed the Council.” He continued, his voice lower. “But with the siege here... I had no choice. I had to help.”

You could feel the guilt in Obi-wan's words. He always carried more than his fair share, and your heart broke for that. “She'll make it.” You told him reassuringly. “She's the best.”

He slowly denied, lowering his gaze. “It's too dangerous. I should have gone myself.” He closed his eyes. “I shouldn't have... left her alone.”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Hey. Ahsoka will be fine.” Your voice was soft, but firm. “There is no more perfect person for this mission. She's very strong. You and Anakin trained her very well. She can do it.”

Obi-wan relaxed a little at your words, giving you a small smile. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“It's not just to make you feel better, Obi-wan. It's the truth.”

He nodded, your hands relaxing in his hair. You were silent for a few minutes, until he said something. “There's... something else I need to tell you.”

You looked at him curiously. “I guess you heard, but... Dooku is dead.”

“Oh, so I did hear. Believe it or not, some younglings in my class were gossiping. News in the temple travels fast. They said Ani had saved your ass?”

“That may be true. But don't tell anyone I told you. I have a reputation to maintain.” You both laughed, before Obi-wan got serious again. “Anyways, that's not what I wanted to tell you. Since Dooku died, Grievous is the new leader of the Separatists.” You nodded. “The Council made it a priority to locate him.”

You analyzed his words for a moment, your breathing stopping as you realized what he meant. “So... the war could be over soon?”

He nodded, taking your hands in his. “That's right. When we capture Grievous, it will be the end of the Clone Wars.”

You looked at him dumbfounded. You knew the war would end at some point, but you didn't think so soon.

Suddenly, you saw the future with optimism. Maybe you could wait longer to tell Obi-wan about your pregnancy. You didn't want to worry him any more at this point.

Peace is so close, you didn't have to give him this burden now. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, you could see hope in his eyes. The secret could wait a little longer....

Obi-wan's calloused hand on your cheek snapped you out of your reverie. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“Yes. Just...” You chuckled. “I can't believe it. That's... wonderful news.”

You hugged him, your head lying on his chest, his big hands resting on your lower back.

Your hands slid down his chest. You felt his breath in your hair, slow and warm. His distinctive smell of wood and coffee comforted you.

“I still can't believe you're here.” You whispered, looking up at him. He smiled at you, his hand caressing your cheek gently.

“I dreamed of this when I was away.” His eyes looked at you with intensity. “Just you and me, alone after a long time.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, licking your lips out of instinct. His gaze lowered to them, your breaths quickening.

You closed your eyes as he leaned in, pressing his lips together against yours in a passion-filled kiss. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other fiddled with your sleeping robe, caressing your soft skin over it.

Your hands merged with his hair, messing it up a bit as your tongues danced together, a soft sound coming from your lips.

He grabbed you around the waist with his large arms, laying you gently on the bed, and settling on top of you, careful not to crush you. Your legs wrapped around his hips, as he kissed you again with the same intensity as before.

“Oh, gods. I missed you so much.” You purred as his lips began to move down, leaving a trail of kisses down your cheeks, chin, neck. His calloused hands were now under your robe, caressing every inch of your waist.

You helped him remove his layers of Jedi robes, desperate for direct contact with each other's bodies. “This is always going to be my least favorite part.” He whispered, his hands shaking trying to remove all of his upper garments. You laughed, helping him until he was shirtless and pulled him in for another kiss.

His hands explored your entire torso, making you gasp as his thumbs ran over your sensitive nipples. He lifted you up a little to remove your sleeping robe, tossing it somewhere in your room. You were at his mercy, your panties the only thing stopping you from being completely exposed.

He took his time admiring you, licking his lips before returning to attack your neck with kisses and bites that you knew would leave a mark the next day. But at that moment nothing mattered. Just you and him, enjoying your first moment alone in a long time.

He slowly worked his way down, making sure not an inch of you was left unkissed. His lips wrapped around your breast, licking your nipple as he caressed the other with his hand.

You had your eyes closed, stroking his hair as you gasped, enjoying his attention. “I missed this so much...I missed you so much.”

As his lips continued their exploration of your body, he took your thighs in his large hands, spreading your legs, giving him a clear view of your private part covered by your panties, which had a spot in the middle because of how wet you were.

You felt small under his hungry gaze. He stroked the insides of your thighs, managing to send a shiver down your spine. He licked his lips, leaning down to kiss your covered clit. You moaned, desperate for more.

His thumb stroked you. “Love... Stop teasing...” You moaned.

That made him laugh. “Patience, darling. I want to enjoy this as long as possible.”

He kissed your thighs, caressed your whole body, except the part where you needed it most. “Please, Obi-wan. I need you.” You whimpered, trembling with the need for pleasure.

“If you ask me in that cute way...” He curled his fingers into the straps of your panties, pulling them off you and tossing them somewhere in your room.

Finally, you were completely exposed to him.

He started kissing your wet center, you felt his beard scrape your thighs, turning you on even more.

When he licked your clitoris, you moaned, trying to squirm, but you realized he was holding you with the force.

“Don't move, sweetheart.” You obeyed, little moans coming out of your mouth as you felt how well your boyfriend was treating you.

His tongue began to tease at your entrance, his nose brushing perfectly against your clit, enough to make you shudder. Your hand found his hair, stroking it as you begged him for more.

You tried to quiet your moans, but the skill with which Obi-wan was eating you out made it very difficult.

“Shhh, love. you don't want your neighbors to hear us, do you?” he looked you straight in the eyes and you moaned, enjoying the sensations and the obscene sounds Obi-wan's mouth caused against your intimate area.

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, your orgasm was approaching and Obi-wan could tell by your breathing speeding up. “Love...” You whimpered, trying to pull his hair to let you release, but he was still at his job.

His lips sucked perfectly on your clit, drawing a high-pitched moan from you. It was too much, you couldn't hold back any longer. “That's it, beautiful. Come for me.”

You moaned as you heard it, finally the pleasure exploding inside you like fireworks. You covered your mouth, silencing your moans, for you couldn't control them.

Obi-wan gave you a kiss on your thigh, before climbing back up beside you, stroking your hair and murmuring praise as you came down from your cloud of climax.

You finally opened your eyes, panting and with your legs shaking from the pleasure. He was looking at you with a smirk, his hair was messy and his beard soaked with your fluids. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you for a kiss. You gasped as you tasted yourself on his lips, your tongues dancing passionately.

“Wait.” He stood up for a second, reaching for something on your nightstand. It was a condom.

You wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary, but that would raise suspicion so you just took it as he landed back beside you.

You laid him fully on the bed, perching on top of him. Your center lightly brushed against his clothed erection, causing you both to gasp. You kissed him again, his hands on your thighs, your hips moving slightly, causing a perfect friction.

You lifted up slightly to remove his pants and underwear, finally freeing his big cock. You licked your lips, gripping it and running your thumb over its sensitive tip, which was covered in pre-cum.

You masturbated him a little, opening the condom and quickly putting it on him. Positioning the head of his member at your entrance, you slowly lowered yourself down, your head falling back from the sensation of his expanding you.

You looked into his eyes, he was flushed and his mouth slightly open in pleasure. He grinned a little at you. “You look beautiful from here.”

You began to move slowly with his help, your breaths quickening. It took some getting used to his size, but the feeling of fullness made up for it entirely.

Your hands rested on his chest to find stability, while his thumb stroked your clit in circles, causing you more pleasure.

“Oh, maker. Obi-wan...” You moaned, the obscene sounds caused by your bodies joining together surrounding the entire room.

You found the perfect rhythm, the tip of his cock touching your most sensitive spot perfectly, making you see stars. “Good lord...” Your boyfriend whispered, the way your pussy contracted in its extension making him feel closer and closer.

You felt your back arching, Obi-wan resting his free hand on your thigh to help you as you were getting closer and closer.

Your orgasm suddenly erupted, like a bolt of lightning shooting through your entire body. Beneath you, you felt your boyfriend gasping, his own release making his whole body tremble.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, you eventually lowering yourself to lie next to him, his strong, warm arms holding you as you caught your breath.

The rest was a blur. Obi-wan whispering beautiful things in your ear, how wonderful you had been, how beautiful and perfect you were. Sloppy kisses, soft looks.

Eventually he got up, going to the bathroom and returning with a towel to wipe off your remaining fluids. When he was done, he lay down next to you again, stroking your hair until you both ended up sound asleep next to each other.

next chapter 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑

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