#Sith Pur

[chibikyo]

All credit for the pose goes to the mystery person who drew the above base; sorry I don’t know who you are but I'll update this if I figure it out

Jedi Master Kaosu in the clutches of Darth Vowrawn...

In my head cannon, Jedi knight Kaosu joins my friends consular Merrida for her chapter 1 story. Kaosu is a much stronger fighter whereas Merrida is much stronger with force techniques and is the official* consular for that story. After the Nar Shaddaa mission, Kaosu can see that the healing technique is really taking it’s toll on Merrida and in an attempt to get more information on how to stop the sith plague, ends up using her underworld contacts to get in touch with an imperial moff and request more information.

Kaosu arrives at Vaiken Spacedock to talk to this Moff and Vowrawn happens to be passing through and intercepts her visit. Darth Vowrawn is so amused by Kaosu’s just casually dropping into enemy territory and decides to entertain her request for information in exchange for a few days of her companionship. Then totally seduces her... (not to the dark side though) Kaosu later joins her twin brother for the Jedi knight quest story (Directly after you get Scourge) as they are practically identical and Scourge cannot tell which one is the Jedi of his vision. 

If anyone is interested in reading about Kaosu and Vowrawn’s time together, I am currently writing it (one version with the smut and one without) and can post it once finished. It’s mostly just self-indulgent for myself, but always happy share. Eventually I’ll get this shaded, but who knows when that will be.

[izmagicallulu]

Kailani Frostfang- Jedi Knight

Luminara Thavi- Sith Warrior

Naiari Ijreera- Jedi Consular

Vis'hnuario Jek'rosil- Sith Inquisitor

-

I wish CC has more different shades of blue for eye color, cause Lani’s eyes are the same color as Arcann’s.

I had changed Luminara’s design a bit.

Main Ocs 2

[sprout-fics]

More Sith 141 x Jedi Reader because I can't get the idea out of my head

Tags: F! Reader, Dubcon/noncon, Darkfic, Manipulation, Abduction, Spanking, Predator/Prey, Primal play, Hunt/takedown, Aftercare, Orgy, General filth

The first time they spot you, it's at the periphery of your master's body, their hand reaching out to you in one last attempt to keep you safe from the four sith that stalk forward from the shadows, their red sabers activated and humming bright with vicious intent. Your master's smoking corpse oozes blood that pools just shy of your feet, and you clutch your own lightsaber, fallen to the floor, trembling and shaking from head to toe and trying to remember the code that you'd sworn yourself to.

There is no death, there is the force.

It's the sith with the broad stature and the beard that steps forward first, yellow eyes raking over your shivering form and wide eyes with a slight tilt of his head, a grin that doesn't feel as dangerous as it does hungry.

You try to fight them, try to get to your feet and fend them off in a desperate bid for survival, escape, but when you stand and hold your lightsaber the leader merely stretches a hand towards you-

and everything goes dark.

There's four of them, you learn when you awaken in their stronghold. Two masters- each with an apprentice, and all four in a dyad of their own making, which will soon include you.

Your talent is wasted with the Jedi, they murmur as their hands roam your body, and even as you try to escape an invisible hand keeps you prone, open to their touch. They coo in your ear about how pretty you are, how soft and sweet- discussing you above your head as if you're hardly there. They talk about keeping you, lovely thing that you are, and putting your potential to better use.

You try to protest, to writhe and escape, but the only thing that falls from your mouth is moans, gasps, whimpers. Price, their leader, holds you on his lap, forces your legs up with a unbreakable grip so his fellow sith can marvel at your soft folds. He coos praises in your ear even as you try to squirm under their stares and petting hands, and when Soap gets down on his knees to eat you out sloppy and almost mean, he watches with delight as your toes curl and you try to fight the whimper in your throat.

This is merely a taste of the pleasures of the dark side, he tells you. A mere sampling of what's the come. The Jedi would never allow you to be defiled like this, and they'd be wrong for it, allowing such a pretty little cunt to go to waste.

They take turns, each of them reaching to grope a breast, to twist a nipple, to curl their fingers inside of you- and with each orgasm you feel your mind fray a little further, and the oath of the Jedi become a little further out of reach. You try to struggle, but all you get in return for your effort is a low, growled warning in your ear, a sharp slap to the back of your thighs that has you squeak- which is only answered by mocking laughter. You're drooling against Price's shoulder by the end of it, eyes glossy and thoughts empty except for the low, warm pulse below your belly.

and Price is right. It's only a taste of what's to come.

They spend hours with you, purring in your ear about the temptations of the dark side. Price takes a touch that in any other life would have felt like a master- guiding, stern, but soft at the edges with praise when you need it. You quickly learn that any effort to disobey him, to fight your way out, any use of the force towards your captors results in him taking you over his knee, restraining you with the force, without even having to touch you so both hands are free to bring his palms down on your bare ass. You're always so exhausted by the end that you don't fight when he has you curl up on his lap and whisper praise in your ear of "Took it so well, darling. Just needed a little reminder of where you belong, hmm? Our precious little Jedi."

The times you are allowed to fight is only with Soap, and you dread every time he takes you to the mats and allows you one of the practice sabers. Never real ones. God forbid you hurt yourself, he tells you. You can see the energy brimming inside of him, bouncing on his heels, grinning wild, golden eyes gleaming. Yet you know how it ends, each and every time- with you, defeated, pinned under him as he paws at your clothes, whining, shucking your pants down to your knees and mounting your winded, prone form until his cum dribbles between your trembling thighs. All while grunting in your ear "Bet ye wanted to lose, huh? That's why you're so wet fer me. Want it that bad? Oh, poor wee hen."

Ghost isn't much better. In some ways he's worse. Where Soap is over energetic, too excited in a way that leaves you tender and sore for days after, Ghost is mean.

The first time he takes you outside the stronghold, on the surface of some desolate planet, and releases you, you think it might be your only chance of freedom. Instead he tells you you're simply going for a run, and when he says you're done, no matter where you are, he'll come find you.

So you run. As fast as you can, trying to memorize the labyrinth of stone and forest around you on whatever lonely planet you're on that feels steeped in the dark side. You run until your feet bleed in the vain hope you can find some way off this place, back home to the temple, praying you can outrun the sith who hold you captive.

Yet each and every time it always ends the same, with Ghost appearing from the shadows, stalking towards you as a massive shadow that makes your legs give out due to your fear. He silences your scream despite the fact there's no one to hear it, revels in the chase, the hunt, in the way it heightens his bloodlust enough for him to take you there in the open, balls slapping against your clit and huge frame keeping you pinned under him as he takes the prize of his pursuit.

Gaz's touch is softer than the others, more patient. He's less touchy than the others, still insistent on bathing you after a sparring match or run outside, bundling you in a towel despite your protests and giving you a kiss on the nose. It's endearing, in a cruel and twisted way, that he's so gentle with you, hardly touches you like the others. Rather, Gaz apologizes for the others treatment of you, and that compassionate smile of his lulls you into a false sense of security, held in his arms in his bed where he strokes your spine.

You try to appeal to him, to voice your protests of being kept here like...like some pet, some prize for them. Despite the fact that you're taken care of, clean and fed and kept safe, you know you don't belong here. You tell him you are a Jedi, soon to be a Jedi knight, that you're supposed to help others and keep the galaxy at peace.

You think he listens to you, but Gaz has a way with words that manages to twist your own into something they're not. he tells you they are doing good, keeping peace. Just without so many unnecessary restrictions. Every objection you voice he offers a primed rebuttal to, twists your words around you with a silver tongue until you're confused, desperate, unsure of the code you swore yourself to. He coos at your brimming tears, holds you close and pets you as you sniffle with uncertainty into his shoulder. You cling to him more so than the others, not realizing that, out of them all, Gaz is by far the most dangerous, waiting for the moment you finally shatter and beg for him first, before anyone else.

You realize his ploy far too late, because when you do break, when you beg him to touch you, he isn't alone. The four of them share you, stuffing your holes and mouth and drowning you in pleasure, in the torrid, horrifying taste of the dark side that grows within you with ever orgasmic crest, every whimpering mewl and plea that falls from your lips. Price tilts your chin up towards him, your mouth open and tongue out, remnants of his release dribbling down your chin just as he watches your eyes flicker a stunning, beautiful gold.

[cocoacat323]

Scum Villian Fic Recs

So, I've been reading fanfiction for a long ass time, longer than I've been on Tumblr and have always loved fic recs, and now I realize I can make my own(yay!), so here it is. None of these are explicit or anything, but they are super good.

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk Into The Bamboo House Summary:

Over a year after Shen Qingqiu's death, Luo Binghe consults his servant's servant, concurrently his disgraced martial uncle, for a way to bring the love of his life back. Shang Qinghua sends him in the direction of a certain time-traveling artifact, which supposedly brings one to the day they first met their soulmate. Odd, though, that the artifact ends up missing the destination by just a few years…

A story in which post-Abyss Luo Binghe relives his disciple days, while juggling his secrets, traumas, and some unexpected revelations about the man he loves on top of that.

Unveiling The Imposter Summary:

While tracking a suspicious fortune-teller, Shen Qingqiu falls unconscious. The fortune-teller extracts a glowing orb from his body, telling Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge that this Shen Qingqiu is an imposter, and they can see for themselves if they don't believe it.

Alternatively, the Demon Lord and Peak Lords watch Scum-Villain's Self-Saving System.

Characters Watch the Series fanfic. Post-Canon.

High Mountain, How I Long Summary: Shen Qingqiu, after enduring his trial, is placed into Luo Binghe’s custody at Huan Hua Palace.

meta madness Summary: Looking at SVSSS through the eyes of the universe left behind when Airplane and Cucumber died. (Note: Not a fic, but a series, but every fic in it is so good so definitely check it out.)

it's only shameless if you had any shame to loose in the first place Summary: They have not told anyone about their marriage, and at Shen Qingqiu's request, they will only do so once the wedding preparations are done. No one will have time to nag!

But in the meantime, Luo Binghe, demonic lord or not, is only an alpha. He must do something to show off his claim or he'll go insane, he really will. He'll qi deviate terribly, see if he won't.

Fortunately, as thin-faced as he is, his Shizun does not care much for proper dynamic etiquette...

love's worth running to Summary: “Shizun,” he purred, darkly calm despite the anger oozing out of his mock-respectful smile. Luo Binghe's grip on Xiu Ya's blade tightened, and he realised with belated horror that his blood was running down the sword and dripping by Shen Qingqiu's feet. His sword had to be held at an upwards angle now, to reach the place where he pierced him back then.

Shen Qingqiu felt sick. There was something wrong in this dream.

“I ask you again. Do you regret it, Shizun?”

//

Shen Qingqiu can't answer whether he regrets betraying him. Luo Binghe wants his Shizun to understand how he suffered, and drags Shen Qingqiu into his dreamscape of the Endless Abyss that night.

The only problem: Shen Qingqiu isn't waking up.

We Are Not Wise Summary:

When Shen Qingqiu drew Shen Yuan’s soul sword, it felt like being burned from the inside out. The fire wasn’t cruel, but it was still fire—hot and destructive, searing the softest pieces of him.

When Binghe’s fingers touch the hilt, he is ready for pain.

Transmigrated into a version of Proud Immortal Demon Way where cultivators manifest their own souls into spiritual weapons, Shen Yuan finds himself sort of kind of…accidentally blackmailing Shen Qingqiu into taking him on as a disciple before Luo Binghe joins the sect.

That should give Shen Yuan plenty of opportunities to make sure nothing goes wrong for his favorite protagonist, right? RIGHT!?

A story of twists, turns, hope, despair, and soul swords. Written for the Bingqiu Reverse Minibang 2023, illustrated and conceptualized by the incredible Suzu!

The Cultivating Force Summary: In which a Master and a Padawan run into a Shizun and a... Sith?

and judgement is just like a cup that we share Summary: The blob finished rotating into place in a way that wasn’t quite compatible with geometry as Shen Qingqiu understood it, and cleared a throat it didn’t seem to have.

“Greetings,” it said, somehow clearly addressing him in particular more than the room as a whole despite its total lack of features other than blueness and translucency. “I’m here on behalf of the Hyper-Celestial Peace and Order Enforcement Bureau. Crime scene secure, proceeding to interviews. Beginning with Subject One: You are Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, also known as Peerless Cucumber?”

"Proud Immortal Demon... Protection Squad?" Summary:

[ REWRITTEN 2023 ]

in which shen qingqiu, the nation's scum villain, doesn't perish from a qi deviation and instead, after dying tragically in his pathetic, sickly, 20 year-old body because he ate some definitely rotten yogurt he mistook for cream cheese like the absolute knob that he is, shen yuan wakes up to find himself in the body of a child, in the middle of a forest, and with absolutely no clue what world this shitty system had dropped him into. he decides to just go with the flow, one step at a time.

what could possibly go wrong?

(the answer is: everything)

(Shen Yuan Might Die Often but His) Old Habits Die Hard Summary: When Luo Binghe asks about his spiritual veins in the Holy Mausoleum, Shen Yuan's chest feels so funny that a lifetime of being chronically ill and reassuring his loved ones that, actually, he's fine kicks in. It is fine, really, because every problem in Airplane-bro's world can be solved by something that's penciled regularly into Shen Yuan's schedule at least eight times a week now.

Except the cure for Without a Cure doesn't work, and Shen Yuan's unlucky enough that Airplane-bro's plot device for winning over a tsundere via 'walking a mile in each others' bodies' hits him before he can figure out an alternative to telling Binghe that actually his five years of rebuilding Shen Qingqiu's spiritual veins diligently failed to cure him.

Luo Binghe is, of course, less than impressed to discover through personal experience what Shen Yuan, with his pain scale so skewed by years of chronic pain, never did during all his time poisoned: that, actually, having spiritual energy forming blockages and blood stagnating in your body hurts like hell.

Anyway, that's all that I've got for now. I hope that if you do take my recs you enjoy them, and remember to read all of the tags. Have fun reading!

[brabblesblog]

I got my heart's desire, and there my troubles began.

Sith!Astarion x Reader one shot! Thanks for the brain rot @dovaqueendraws <3

You had snuck aboard the star destroyer, with the aim of ending the Sith scourge. Will wiser heads prevail, or will you fall to the dark side?

Ao3

Desire. Passion. Lust.

None of it was new to you, long-forgotten and yet now brought to the forefront of your mind.

Your saber hung uselessly on your belt, your robes obscuring it from view. The troopers had yet to confiscate it - with your hands bound behind you, there was little risk of reaching for it.

But that man at the far end of the table, clothed in black leather, took your mind off your weapon. Silver hair, glinting in the light of the star from the viewport behind him. Crimson eyes, a color you had been taught to be wary of, glowered from across the room.

A gloved hand rose, and with a beckoning motion, pulled you towards him.

Sith. This was what you had been here for.

He was strong in the force, that much you could tell. Those eyes flickered away as an officer leaned in to whisper. You strained your ears; if anything, some information may prove useful later.

“We hold the blockade,” the sith purred. His voice was velvety and you shivered, despite yourself.

Control yourself. You were no stranger to resisting urges such as these. Any Jedi who had passed the trials knew all too well the tribulations of resisting what came naturally. But he was…

Different.

He turned his attention to you, dismissing the officer with a lazy flick of the wrist. As he shifted you caught sight of his saber - curved at the hilt and ornate. No doubt the blade would be as red as his eyes.

“Leave us.” Those eyes never left yours as he spoke, and you barely noticed the noise as people shuffled out of the room.

He stood, his hand still lifted, holding you in place. Eyes raked up and down your body, and he sighed.

“I didn’t think Jedi still existed, darling.”

The answer was automatic, one you had learned to give in the years since the fall. “I am no Jedi.”

“And yet, you wear the robes of one. Carry the weapon of one.” He walked around you and reached down, pulling the fabric away to reveal the hilt of your saber.

You fully expected him to step away, but instead he leaned in, breathing in deeply. Your pulse quickened, and his lips curved into a smile.

“Nervous, are we? There is little to fear. I won’t hurt you.” The sith closed his eyes, as if contemplating something. “No,” he whispered, “I think I have far more fruitful pursuits than simple slaughter.”

“As if slaughter was anything new to you.”

He laughed. “You do amuse me, at least.”

There was a tug downwards, your knees buckling as you were forced to kneel in front of him. Muscled thighs, tightly bound in leather trousers, came into view. “I sense a darkness in you. A longing for…” he tilted his head. “vengeance. Not the Jedi way, I must say.”

“Like I said.” Gritting your teeth, you tried to focus your mind. Perhaps you could summon your saber into your hand while the sith was distracted. “I am no Jedi.”

He hummed in response. “You are no Bokken Jedi, at the very least.”

You straightened your back in response. No. You had been there at the fall. “Then what do you need from me? What… pursuit?”

The laughter that answered you was seductive, carefully crafted, you were certain. That did not mean you felt nothing, however, the faintest tendrils of want flowing through your body. You had not felt it in ages, had been trained to spurn such feelings, but…

There was a small click, and your cuffs fell away. You rubbed your wrists, wincing as the blood flowed into them.

“You could fight me,” he intoned, hands clasped behind his back, “or you could state the real reason for your presence today.”

“I’m-”

He raised a finger. “You say you are here for vengeance. You likely think it true - and yet your first instinct is not to go for your saber. You willingly allowed yourself to be taken in without nary a complaint, much less any violence.” Gesturing down at the planet beneath them, he continued. “Is it not far more peaceful this way? All they have to do is obey.”

“You let them leave the saber on me.” There was no other response to be had.

The sith inclined his head. “I have heard tales of Jedi on your planet - a force user that had been there since the fall. That is not unique. What is, however, are the stories I come across.”

You bit your lip, knowing what he meant. A Jedi that could be swayed by credits, a Jedi that no longer made the distinction of what it meant to be good or evil, only what it meant to live or die. A Jedi that…

“Ignite your blade.”

You swallowed, but did as asked. Unclasping the hilt you held your saber in your hands. The sith looked at you impatiently.

The room is bathed in red light.

The sith grins, face framed by the glow of your blade. “Now that the truth is laid bare… answer me again. Why are you here?”

“Fifty thousand credits for your head.”

“Fifty. A paltry sum, compared to what I offer you.” Bridging the gap that separated you from him, the sith knelt in front of you, painfully, achingly close. “You can take what you came here for, and be done with it,” he looked up through lidded eyes, “or consider my offer.”

He looked… tantalizing. Tempting. Even though you had fallen you had practiced the ways of your old masters, eschewing the pleasures of the flesh and of the heart. You had bled your crystal as your temple burned in a moment of righteous anger, had done what was necessary in the name of survival but… this? This was different.

Had you come here to kill him, and receive your payment? Or were you here to find another of your kind, so rare nowadays?

“All you need is a little push.” It was whispered, reverently, almost as if he had read your mind. A hand tucked your hair behind your ear. He watched you dither, unbothered by your still-activated saber, and leaned forward to press his lips against your own. It was as if you had been waiting, your lips parting of their own to allow him in.

You jerked towards him, but in the next second you managed to shove him back, saber aimed at his throat. He chuckled.

“Have you made up your mind then, Jedi?”

You hissed. “I am not-”

In that same second his blade met yours, red on red, dancing, weaving against each other, the low hum the only sound in the room.

That, and his breathing, the panting betraying his excitement.

No doubt he sensed yours, too.

The blades crossed, sparks winking into existence as he pressed the advantage, driving you backwards. Your back hit the wall, and your own saber inched closer to your face. His face was right next to yours, the glint of exhilaration evident in his gaze, in the slight part of his lips that revealed fangs.

The sith closed the gap, his body flush against yours. You felt something press against your thigh, something that sent white-hot lust flowing through you.

Fuck.

The blades retracted at the same time. Intention shifted into action, and it was almost as if one knew what the other had in mind.

Force trickery, no doubt. From the two of you. Divining each other’s thoughts had revealed a shared fantasy.

His cock ground against your thigh, hands squeezing your waist. He moaned into your ear.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?”

You grabbed his ass, and that was all the reply he needed.

“On your knees,” he whispered. “Right now.”

You did as he asked, your hand now on his thigh. Your mouth watered as he unbuttoned his trousers, freeing his cock. It was hard, pink at the head, a small droplet of precum forming at the tip.

“Was this what you came for?” Fingers dug into your hair, a surprisingly pleasant feeling, and you felt heat pool between your legs.

“I wanted…” you braced yourself. “Something.”

“Passion. Feeling.” He shuddered as you wrapped a hand around him. “You want what the Jedi have taught you to abstain from. What the sith tell you to indulge in.”

You rankled slightly. Sith? Was that what you were now? You were no longer Jedi - your blade said as much - but were you really-

“It matters not what you call yourself,” he purred. “Suck.”

You obeyed.

Not him, not really. For once in your life you listened to yourself.

His length was shoved into your mouth; rough, beautiful, amazing. You smelled and tasted him, the salty tang of precum suffusing your senses as his tip hit the back of your throat. He held you in place, the fist tangled in your hair tight and unforgiving, as he began to thrust.

You moved your hand in time with his hips, sucking and swallowing around him. He had begun to leak; you tasted more and more of it with every pass. Pressing your tongue against the underside of his cockhead was rewarded by a groan, and you felt yourself clench; that sound was exquisite, and you would do anything to hear it again.

Grasping his ass tighter you encouraged him to fuck your mouth harder, chasing him every time he pulled out. He braced against the wall, palm pressed flat against it as he rocked into your mouth. All you could hear was his ragged panting, his moans, and the wet sounds of his cock filling your mouth up.

You squeezed your thighs together in a desperate hunt for friction. The sith noticed, and he smirked. “When was the last time you had indulged?”

Too long. Far too long. You whimper, the sound muffled, your lips still wrapped around him, mid-suck.

He pulled out; you watched as a trail of saliva lingered on his cockhead, linking you and him for a second. His length glistened with saliva, twitching as he wrapped his fingers around it, stroking lazily. The hand on your hair loosened.

“On the table, darling. Let it not be said that I am a cruel master.”

You snorted, despite yourself, and divested yourself of clothing. The fabric fell away as you clambered on, legs hanging off the edge.

He approached you, his cock jutting out proudly as he leaned over you.

The first rub he made against your clit sent shivers up your spine. You whimpered as he made another pass, his length rubbing with a teasing slowness.

“So wet and eager for me.” He paused. “Tell me what you want, and I shall provide.”

“Fuck me,” you spat out. “Please.”

There was a sharp bark of laughter, and then bliss.

He had buried himself in you with one quick thrust, hands braced on either side of your face. He shut his eyes, and when he reopened them there was nothing left there but desire.

You bucked up and he responded in kind, beginning to roll his hips hard and fast.

Your legs wrapped around him, asking for more - deeper, harder - and he obliged, pumping in and out with relentless speed.

Every thrust spread you open and filled you with him, hitting your spot mercilessly. He was the perfect length, the perfect girth, each pass pure heaven. As he held you down with a hand on your shoulder all you thought of was this, him buried to the hilt inside you, every throb and twitch telling you just how much he wanted this, too. You felt yourself clench around him, your walls holding him tight and making him gasp. He pinched a nipple, then moved to squeeze your breast, further intensifying the feeling.

His ass clenched, muscles tensing, and you knew he was fast approaching his climax. Red eyes gazed down at you, silver hair falling and framing his face, chest heaving with every breath. You met those parted lips with your own, and his tongue slipped into your mouth without a second thought.

A gloved hand snaked down between your legs, tracing rough circles around your clit. You whined, bucking up against him, and he murmured a quick good girl as his pace intensified.

You could have this forever, and it would not be enough.

His fingers grew more insistent, and you were sure his gloves were soaked in your slick. You felt it begin, that heat in your stomach, painfully close to unfurling.

His cock throbbed as he gasped, his movements losing rhythm as he skirted the edge. Your legs held him tighter, pulling him flush against you. He growled, a quick nip on your lips the only warning you received.

And then you felt it. His cock gave one hard pulse as his climax took him, hips jerking involuntarily as he shuddered. His orgasm brought you yours, your walls clenching tight as he filled you up with his seed, your back arching off the table. In that moment nothing mattered other than this, that the blooming pleasure radiating from your linked bodies.

If this is what it meant to fall, then you would do so willingly.

As you came down from your high, you opened your eyes to see him watching you. He braced, then gently pulled out, visibly shivering as his cock met the cold air.

“Was that what you came for, darling?”

Teasing, wry. He knew he had you.

“A little more than I bargained for,” you admitted, “but I don’t mind.”

What was left unspoken was nevertheless known. You would stay by his side.

The sith tugged his trousers back on, a half-smile on his face. “Then get dressed.”

He looked out through the viewpoint.

“We have a galaxy to rule.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Revenge of the Fifth

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

⚠️ Warning: it’s a spicy one 🔥 ⚠️

The first week of May was often a celebrated one for you and your wife Petra Parker-Stark. No Spider Girl or Iron Knight patrols.

You and her would have three days of back to back Star Wars movies. It started on May the 4th and ended on Return of the 6th.

But this was the first time you’d be celebrating such a time as a married couple. So you decided to surprise your wife when she woke up on May the 4th.

“Happy May the Fourth, my spider monkey!” You presented her with breakfast in bed and a new Chewbacca onesie.

“Ohmygosh! Baby! I love it!” She giggled as she slipped it on. It made her feel comfy and loved at the same time. Made you feel comfy too considering that she spent the entire day nuzzled up against you. She didn’t want to leave your arms, she loves just rubbing herself and the velvet cotton texture against you.

You would be honest and say that the feeling was definitely making you feel hot under the collar so to speak. What you didn’t know was that this was all part of your wife’s slightly devious little plan.

You walked into the living room the following morning. Petra stood there in a jet black sith dove, holding her red lightsaber.

“Hi honey” she purred. “Sleep well?”

“I missed having you in bed with me this morning, Mrs Parker-Stark” you flirted back.

“Well…” she let the robe fall from her shoulders and to the floor, revealing a Sith inspired lingerie outfit. “Happy Revenge of the Fifth”

You were left speechless. She strutted up to you and gently pushed you onto the couch. She straddled you and began grinding her hips into you. She kept one hand firmly on your shoulder and the other was moving to your pajama pants.

Petra began kissing you with a fiery passion and vigor that anyone would not have expected from someone who acts so shy around others. 

With a simple tug of your pants drawstring, Petra yanked them off and began moving her hips in a tight circular motion. She moaned your name. Hers came out of your mouth as an almost begging voice. You couldn’t maintain much composure. Your beautiful geek of a wife was driving you wild. It was all too exciting.

With a mischievous grin, she smirked, “there’s your lightsaber.”

“It’s all yours,” you groaned. She giggles and yanked off your shirt.

And so now even years later, Petra Parker the love of your life still amazes you. The two of you now celebrate May the 4th with your little baby May. But Revenge of the 5th? You drop little May off at Aunt May’s house, but just for a few hours.

Tags: @ma1egamer @jacenradio7 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[januaryembrs]

congrats on 3k!!!!! That’s such an amazing achievement!!

Also you write for Cal????? I love you

Mayhaps a coffee? With cal if you have a wip for him? If not that’s fine lol

FAMILIAR FACE | Cal Kestis x Sith!Reader

description: Cal wasn't the only survivor of Order 66

length: 0.6k

warnings: violence

It was him. You hadn’t heard that voice in years, hadn’t seen that auburn hair, those eyes greener than the blooms of foliage that surrounded you. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” He snarled, igniting his lightsaber and standing on the defence, “You can’t be the indomitable Sith they say you are if you’re too afraid to remove your mask,” 

Your jaw clenched beneath your helmet, your head turning to the side as you eyed up your prey. Five years. It had been five years since you’d been left in the temple to face off Vader alone, a thirteen year old padawan lost and vulnerable, left to care for the ones younger than yourself. You’d thought he had been slaughtered just like the rest of them, thought maybe if he had survived then he would come back for you. You were supposed to be his best friend. 

But he had left you there. Left you at the hands of Darth Vader, the only one who showed you mercy. Who trained you as his own, who crafted the force wielder you were today from the ground up. 

He cared for you. He had faith in you. He would never leave you defenceless; it was why he’d spent so much time and effort guiding you in the ways of the Sith. 

Vader allowed you to feel, the one thing the Jedi always forbid. And for that you owed him your life. 

“You’re a coward,” He spat, yet you spotted the limp in his leg where you had kicked him yelling and thrashing into the cavern the two of you stood in. He must have retained some of his training at least to have caught himself before the damage would be too severe. 

You smiled, something crazed and manic, because despite his brave words and seething expression, you smelled his fear on the breeze, and that was what made you lunge for him. 

Within a flash your sabre was ignited, a cardinal red crackle of light and you cleared the fifty yards in seconds, the hum of your training hot under your skin, and he had only a single blink to bring his weapon up to block his face as your sliced through the air, hurtling towards his neck where his head would have been scorched clean off had he not been quick enough. 

His eyes were wide, his breath crawling up his throat in a halted scream as he tried to save face and show no fear, but you could feel it pumping through his veins with every heartbeat. 

“Play nice now, Cal,” You purred, your smirk only widening when his face morphed into confusion, “That’s no way to speak to a woman, now is it?” 

“Who are you?” He asked, horror spreading over his expression as you lamented, taking a single step back yet keeping your artillery murmuring hungrily in your palm. 

You left me, Cal Kestis. You left me to die like a dog and never once looked back. 

You raised a hand up to your helm, yanking it up and over your face as you revelled in every second of his distress, the pools of emerald in his hues whirling with shock and something distraught. 

“I think you already know,” You said with a smirk, tossing your armour to the ground with a thud as it rolled over the Kashyyyk ferns that littered the floor. 

And you dived for him again while he was distracted, your sabre heading straight for his heart.

[gallerygourmet]

Captivation

Summary: idk how to write a summary tbh my b

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: Smuttt, p in v sex, torture kinda, stockholm syndrome

Guys @vixxensvoid gave me this idea ily

In the expanse of the galaxy, the clash of light and dark echoed. Anakin Skywalker's destiny was forever altered by the touch of a Sith whose name whispered through the stars like wildfire.

A presence, cloaked in mystery, emerged from the shadows of the Sith captivating even the most steadfast of hearts. From the moment Anakin was trapped in your grasp, he felt a stirring within his soul.

Captured by y/n’s cunning, Anakin found himself ensnared in a web of intrigue and deceit, his every thought consumed by the enigmatic woman who held him captive. In the depths of your fortress, he resisted your advances, clinging to the ideals of the Jedi Order with unwavering devotion. Anakin was subjected to trials of both body and mind, each one designed to break his spirit and bend him to y/n’s will. Yet, even as he suffered, he found himself drawn to you darkness, the promise of power and freedom beckoning to him like a siren's call. Y/n’s voice echoed through the dimly lit chamber, a mixture of malice and amusement dancing in your tone as you observed Anakin's torment. "You disappoint me, Anakin," you purred, your words dripping with venom. "I had hoped for more resilience from someone of your reputation ."

Anakin gritted his teeth against the searing pain coursing through his veins, his muscles strained against the restraints that bound him to the cold metal table.

"You'll never break me, y/n," he spat, defiance laced with desperation in his voice.

y/n circled him like a predator, your eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as you watched him struggle.

"Oh, but I think you underestimate the depths of your own weakness, Anakin," you taunted, your fingers trailing lightly along his jawline. "You see, pain has a way of revealing one's true nature."

Anakin's breath hitched as a wave of agony washed over him, his resolve faltering for a moment before he clenched his jaw in defiance.

"I will not give in to you," he growled, his voice strained with effort. "No matter what you do to me."

y/n's laughter filled the air, a chilling melody that sent shivers down Anakin's spine.

"Such noble words, my dear Anakin," you cooed, leaning in close until you lips brushed against his ear. "But we both know that deep down, you crave the darkness as much as I do."

Anakin's heart hammered in his chest as your words struck a chord within him, the truth of your statement ringing painfully true.

"I will never join you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I am a Jedi."

y/n's laughter rang out once more, a symphony of mockery that echoed off the walls of the chamber.

"Ah, but even the mightiest of Jedi have their breaking points, Anakin," you murmured, your voice low and dangerous. "And I intend to find yours."

Days turned into weeks, Anakin's resolve began to falter, and his heart betrayed him in ways he never thought possible.

Anakin found himself torn between duty and desire, his loyalty to the Jedi Order warring with the forbidden longing he felt for his captor. In moments of quiet reflection, he questioned his own beliefs, grappling with the complexities of overwhelming temptation. But it was not only y/n's physical allure that captivated Anakin; it was the depth of your intellect, the fire in your eyes, and the passion with which you embraced the darkness that surrounded them. In your presence, he felt alive in ways he never thought possible, his heart soaring on wings of forbidden ecstasy.

Yet, even as Anakin succumbed to y/n's charms, a part of him remained conflicted, a flicker of light amidst the encroaching darkness. In the quiet moments between what seemed like endless torture, he wrestled with his conscience, struggling to reconcile the man he was with the man he longed to be. But as the war in his mind raged on, and the galaxy descended further into chaos, Anakin's resolve began to crumble, his once unwavering faith in the Jedi Order giving way to doubt and uncertainty. In the heat of you torture, he found himself fighting not only against the enemies of the Republic but against the demons that lurked within his own heart.

It was in those moments of vulnerability that y/n's influence over him grew strongest, your whispers of temptation echoing in the recesses of his mind like a siren's song. And as Anakin's defenses weakened, he found himself falling deeper and deeper into your embrace, his love for you eclipsing all reason and logic.

Anakin's body sagged against the restraints, exhaustion weighing heavy on his limbs as he stared up at y/n through half-lidded eyes, his gaze clouded with resignation. "I... I can't..." he whimpered, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the strength to resist you.

y/n's lips curved into a predatory smile as you leaned in close, you breath warm against his skin. "Shhh, my dear," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr that sent a shiver down his spine. "There’s no need to fight anymore. Just let go and embrace the darkness within you."

Anakin's heart pounded in his chest as your words washed over him, a tidal wave of temptation threatening to drown him in its wake.

"I can't..." he repeated, his voice tinged with desperation as he fought to hold onto what little remained of his resolve.

y/n's fingers traced a path along his jawline, your touch sending sparks of fire dancing along his skin. you knew you had him in your clutches.

"You don't have to," you murmured, your lips hovering just inches from his. "Just let go. Let me show you my true power."

Anakin's breath caught in his throat as y/n's lips descended upon his own, the taste of you a bittersweet reminder of everything he had lost.

For a moment, he surrendered himself to your embrace, the weight of his burdens falling away as he drowned in the depths of your embrace.

And as y/n pulled away, a triumphant smile playing upon your lips, Anakin knew that his battle was far from over.

Anakin's breath hitched as y/n's lips met his once more, a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through him like a raging storm. For a moment, he allowed himself to be swept away by the intensity of their kiss, his heart pounding in his chest as he drank in the taste of your forbidden love. But as their lips parted, Anakin's conscience stirred within him, a voice of reason amidst the chaos of his emotions. "This is wrong," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled to push you away. y/n's eyes flashed with frustration, your grip tightening on his jaw as you forced him to meet your gaze. "Wrong?" you scoffed, your voice laced with disdain. "What do you know of right and wrong, Anakin? You, who have betrayed everything you once believed in for a taste of power." Anakin's heart clenched at your words, the weight of his guilt pressing down upon him like a leaden weight. "I... I can't do this," he murmured, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "I won't let you turn me into something I'm not." Y/n's laughter cut through the silence like a knife, your eyes burning with an intensity that sent a chill down Anakin's spine. "Oh, but you already have, my dear Anakin," you hissed, your voice dripping with malice. "You are mine now, body and soul. There’s is no turning back." Anakin's heart sank as the truth of your words washed over him, the realization of his own weakness cutting him to the core.

The kiss was almost too much for him to handle. you practically dragged him to the cold throne in your chambers. You were stronger than him in this moment and it made a moan accidentally drip from Anakin’s throat filling your body with heat. “Oh Anakin, it seems you’ve wanted me all along” you teased. Losing control made Anakin painfully hard, needing a release desperately.

“please..” he whimpered. you knew you could do anything you wanted to him at this moment.

Y/n smirked against Anakin’s ear before you started to kiss down his neck, your lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you reached down and grabbed his thighs, pulling them apart so you could kneel in between them. Anakin closed his eyes and tried to compose himself as you started to run your hands up and down his thighs. He let out a low groan as you kissed along his collarbone. “You’re going to have to be a good boy for me, Anakin” you whispered in his ear causing shivers to go down Anakin’s body. Anakin couldn’t help but respond to your words, arching into your touch. You began running your fingers along his hardened length, causing him to gasp in pleasure.

Anakin couldn’t take it anymore. He bucked his hips up, trying to get you to touch him properly. You laughed quietly and finally wrapped your hand around him, pumping him slowly. “F..fuck” Anakin moaned out, tilting his head back. You continued to play with him, not letting him reach his peak easily. You leaned forward and whispered in his ear again, “you’re all mine, Anakin.” you started to kiss down his chest again, stopping at his dick. Y/n finally pushed Anakin on his back and hoisted yourself over him. You slowly rubbed your wetness on his aching length and when you felt he was ready, you lowered yourself causing both of you to let out a loud moan.

You started to move slowly, riding him with an almost torturous pace. Anakin's hands instinctively went to your hips, trying to get you to move faster. You smirked at him and started to ride him harder, your nails digging into his chest. “Oh fuck..” Anakin whimpered. You leaned forward, pressing your breasts against Anakin's chest as you rode him. Anakin's hands moved to your ass, gripping it tightly as he thrust up into you. You moaned loudly, grinding down on him again and again. “Oh, Anakin…” Anakin couldn't take it anymore. He flipped you over onto your back and began to pound into you roughly. you moaned and gasped underneath him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fucked you hard. Anakin could finally take no more and with a loud whimper he came hard inside the woman. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting heavily as the sweat dripped down your bodies.

After a few moments Anakin places a kiss on your lips and as y/n's lips meet with his once more, his fate was sealed with a kiss that tasted of both ecstasy and longing, Anakin knew that he was lost to you forever.

my faves: @vixxensvoid @anisangeldust @haydensprettyprincess @vaderswifey @demieyesore @jokersjedi

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 5- Table Sex

Sith!Obi Wan Kenobi x fem!reader

Word count- 1.9k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), the prompt is table but it's actually desk sex lol, seduction, possessive/protective Kenobi, inappropriate use of the force, no use of y/n

Notes- Dedicating this one to all the Sith!Obi girlies (gn)! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“You wished to see me, Lord Kenobi?” you asked from the doorway to his office where you stood at attention.

He looked up from his desk, yellow eyes looking deep into your soul. But, his face softened- something that didn’t always happen. Lord Kenobi stood up and said your name, “Yes, come in,” he crossed around to the front of his desk.

“Yes, sir?” your voice wavered as you crossed the room and stood only a few feet from him. You took a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

“I hear you’ve been doing good work lately,” he crossed his arms and stood just a little taller, never breaking eye contact with you, “I wanted to thank you personally for all your hard work.”

You shivered, unsure why since the room wasn’t cold, “T-thank you, sir,” you bowed your head slightly. This wasn’t the first time he had done this, but it still made your pulse quicken every time. You had never heard Lord Kenobi praise anyone before, and as much as it sent a jolt of excitement, it also made you nervous since you weren’t sure why he was always so different with you.

 “Please there’s no need for that,” his tone was smooth and sultry as he reached out and tilted your chin up so that you met his gaze once more, “There,” he purred as he released you, “That’s better.”

You stiffened as you swallowed hard. You felt as if his eyes could see every little secret you ever held, including the attraction you developed for your superior. Knowing what you did about the force, you tried your best to bury your feelings whenever he was around, yet you couldn’t help but feel like his eyes read you like a book regardless.

“Is there something I can do for you, my Lord?” you asked, unsure of what to make of the way he devoured you with his eyes.

Kenobi just stared intently for a moment. “Is everything alright with you? Your superiors are treating you well?”

Completely caught off guard by his question, your mouth opened and closed a few times, “Y-yes sir.”

His eyes narrowed, “Are you lying to me?”

“No sir,” you replied almost too quickly.

“So if I were to ask if anyone gave you a difficult time, you would say no? Correct?”

“Why are you asking me this?” you asked, finding yourself too bewildered to be afraid at the moment.

He huffed, “I don’t want anyone accusing you of gaining favoritism from me is all.” Kenobi spoke so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t believe those were his words.

Your posture fumbled slightly, “No sir.” Even you didn’t believe your own words. You had been having trouble with some of the others in your unit, who bullied you and gave you a hard time because of Lord Kenobi’s apparent affinity towards you, but you had no idea he actually knew about it; you hadn’t told anyone about it.

Kenobi slowly stepped close until you felt his breath on your face. He didn’t seem upset that you blatantly lied to his face. In fact, he almost seemed amused. He cupped your chin once more, forcing you to look into his eyes, “As much as I hate to admit it,” his tone was low, “They are correct. I do favor you.”

You let out a gasp as you felt your body freeze in place. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but you had trouble forming any words for several moments, “Are you… using the force on me, my Lord?” was all you could say. You felt like you wanted to run, yet you couldn’t budge.

“Never, my darling,” he purred, “I want you to come to me on your own free will,” Kenobi paused, “If you wish, you may leave at any time,” he gestured to the door.

Suddenly you realized that nothing actually held you in place. Kenobi’s grip on your chin wasn’t tight enough to stop anything but turning your head, and he didn’t hold you anywhere else. Your skin warmed as you felt exposed, your secret revealed.

“But I will warn you, if you stay,” Kenobi smirked darkly, “I won’t be able to hold myself back any longer.”

Your eyes darted towards the door over your shoulder and you let out a heavy breath. But, you made your choice, “My Lord,” you whispered softly.

Kenobi’s face lit up, “Good girl,” he cooed as he closed the gap between your faces in a flash with a deep and heated kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him and engulfing you completely.

You moaned into his mouth as you surrendered to him, your fantasy finally coming true. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that the mighty, powerful, handsome Lord Kenobi would want you, but here he was, kissing you passionately, his hands roaming all over your figure.

In a flash of movement, Lord Kenobi spun you around and backed you up so that your legs hit his desk. When you gasped, he only kissed you deeper, his tongue exploring your mouth and playing with your own. You clung to his robes for support as you tilted your head to allow him better access to your body.

“You taste even better than I thought,” Kenobi groaned in a low tone, “Now let me see how lovely you are underneath those,” he tugged at your uniform.

“My Lord,” you moaned as you felt him open your jacket and slide it off your shoulders, followed by your undershirt.

“Beautiful,” he purred as he cupped your breasts. Kenobi’s fingers brushed across your nipples, causing you to moan loudly, as he squeezed and fondled your soft mounds.

You saw stars as he fondled you, his touch as expert as if he had touched you a hundred times before. But, you were caught off guard once more when you felt a slight pressure on your clit. Without realizing it, your eyes had fluttered shut, but they shot open when you felt that pressure on your clit again.

“My Lord?” you whined.

“Does that feel good, my dear?” Kenobi smirked as his hands ran down your sides and started working on your pants.

“Yes,” you breathed immediately.

His yellow eyes looked like they were about to burst into flames at any moment, “Good,” he put some pressure on your clit once more using the force. His cock twitched in his robes when every moan and writhe you let out, obviously enjoying this greatly.

Kenobi started removing your pants, but he didn’t make things easy for you. He continued to put pressure on your clit even as he worked on undressing you. Your body jerked with every push between your legs, and as it got harder, your legs trembled.

“Lord Kenobi,” you moaned his name as you fought to keep yourself upright on his desk.

“Are you going to cum, my lovely?” his tone was dangerously low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

He let out one single, sharp laugh before he stopped the assault on your clit with the force. When you let out a desperate whine, he put a finger on your lips to shush you, “I don’t want you to cum yet,” he warned as he yanked at his robes, “I don’t want you to cum until my cock is deep inside you.”

The moan you let out was the most sinful sound you had ever made in your life. And you had never been more turned on than you were right there, naked on Lord Kenobi’s desk with your legs spread and your glistening pussy on full display for him. But, your breath caught in your throat when he pulled his robes off and his fully erect cock sprang free. You couldn’t help but stare as your mouth watered, and you knew he noticed by the way he chuckled darkly.

“Not now, my darling,” he cooed as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his eyes, “Right now, I need to fuck you until all you can say is my name,” he leaned in and hovered his lips over yours, “So that everyone here knows you belong to me,” he growled before he kissed you harshly, possessively.

All you could do was moan into him as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and readied yourself for his cock. And you thanked the Maker that he didn’t make you wait long as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Kenobi broke away from the kiss just in time to thrust into you in one harsh movement, fully sheathing himself inside you and savoring the scream that you let out. Your mouth hung open and the moans and cried flowed freely as he thrust into you over and over again, fucking you right there on his desk.

“That’s it, darling,” Kenobi groaned as he felt your warmth around him, “Scream as loud as you want,” skin spalled against skin as he pounded into you, “I want them to hear the way I fuck you.”

“My Lord… Fuck… Ahhh,” you cried out as the room spun.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Kenobi growled as he bit down on your skin hard and picked up his pace.

“Oh fuck… Lord Kenobi!” you screamed as your body started to tremble.

“That’s it,” he growled, “Cum on my cock, my dear. Then you will be mine.”

With just the right amount of pressure on your clit and Kenobi’s cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, you came hard with a loud scream. You clung to Lord Kenobi tightly, so hard that your nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t care. Kenobi thrust into you over and over again, riding out your orgasm on his cock as you gushed onto him.

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned as he started to lose control of himself. Kenobi’s thrusts became erratic as he pounded into you with fervor. The way you clenched around him when you came made him see stars, and temporarily made him putty in your hands- his own little secret. But, it only took a few more thrusts for him to cum deep inside you, spilling himself into you with a growl of your name. 

Spent, Kenobi toppled forward onto his desk, pushing you onto your back in the process. His cock stayed buried inside you, not wanting to pull out just yet. Neither of you moved for several moments, and Lord Kenobi’s arms stayed wrapped around you possessively.

“That was… Maker… Wow,” you sighed as you closed your eyes.

Kenobi huffed in amusement, “There’s plenty more where that came from, my darling.” Begrudgingly, he pulled out of you, but he had to admire the view of you sprawled out on his desk, completely bare, with his seed dripping out of you, “Lovely,” he whispered.

You blinked your eyes open and felt embarrassed that Lord Kenobi was staring at you like that. You made a move to curl yourself up, to cover yourself, but a strong hand stopped you.

“Stay like this,” he ordered.

Swallowing hard, you paused before you answered, “Yes sir,” your voice was so quiet you weren’t sure if he heard you.

“I want you here, like this, every day,” his eyes stared deep into your soul.

“Yes sir,” you moaned.

“Good girl,” Kenobi said in that low sultry voice that made you shiver.

He would take care of anyone who dared harm you later, but for now, your pussy was too tempting to turn away from.

[charmwasjess]

OKAY OKAY what if both Sifo-Dyas and Dooku fall to the dark side and become the most fucked up, codependent, terrifying Sith boyfriends??

You’re a poor Jedi cornered by the traitorous Count Dooku and that’s bad enough, right? He’s the duelist. The one with the lightning kink. Possibly, you will be lightsabered into sashimi. But the worst part is knowing there are actually two of them, and they are never far apart. So, Sifo-Dyas must be somewhere very, very close by, moving behind you in the darkness, but you can’t see him. 

Worse, Sifo-Dyas is more than capable of behaving like one of those coyotes who lure domestic dogs into danger by mimicking the body language of friendly dogs: play bows, wagging tails, “chase me, chase me!” behavior, leading them off deeper and deeper into the woods. The Council even believes that some of the Jedi whose corpses lie under Castle Serenno met their end because they believed themselves to be actually rescuing Sifo-Dyas. 

In fact, Sifo-Dyas loves these games! His favorite part is when Dooku “catches” them “escaping,” the shock on the Jedi’s face as they round the last bend of the tunnel Sifo-Dyas oh-so-helpfully showed them, only to find Dooku standing right there, waiting for them. 

Every time, it makes Sifo-Dyas laugh. It’s so funny, he can’t help it, it just bursts out, and the Jedi stares at him in horror, wondering if he’s mad. It seems possible, right up until Dooku kneels in front of him and Sifo-Dyas threads his fingers through his hair and kisses him, purring over what a good job he’s done. No, Sifo-Dyas isn’t a captive, held here against his will. In fact, judging by the way the other Sith is looking up at him as if he’s his whole universe, lapping up his praise, Dooku isn’t even the Master.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 26

Day Twenty-Five | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Twenty-Seven

Pairing: Sith!Obi-Wan Kenobi x Apprentice!Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked

Notes: I'm hecking nervous about this one, too 😅 This uhhh this was not the plan for today. But here we are.

Warnings: Sith Master!Obi-Wan; Sith Apprentice!Reader; Power imbalance; Force-choking; deep-throating; grinding; masturbation; choking (without the Force); degradation

You twist against the bounds of the Force, grunting in frustration. You can’t raise your arm, and you strain to move your fingers, to summon your lightsaber from where it’s fallen just a few feet away. The Force loosens, and you drop to the floor with a groan, wincing as your knees slam against the floor.

“Are you through?”

“No, Master,” You swear.

“Then why are you still on the floor.” 

Obi-Wan’s dismissive tone cut through you, drifting past you toward the door. You curl your hand into fist, pounding it against the floor before you spring up, your hand shooting out. Your lightsaber smacks into your palm, flickering to life as you raise it. Before you can land a proper blow, Obi-Wan’s stops yours. The force of his parry makes you stumble, sending you backward. You regain your footing, raising your lightsaber to strike—but with every blow that he levels, you find yourself forced further and further into playing defense. Your back hits the wall as your lightsaber is knocked from your hand again. You feel the Force pinning your hands to the wall, and your gaze drops to Obi’s hand. It’s slightly extended, and you thrill at the fact that he hardly has to exert himself to restrain you. He loosens his grip again, shaking his head as he heads for the door.

“We’ll resume tomorrow.” 

You push yourself off of the wall, unsteady, but determined. 

“We’re not done,” You argue.

“You won’t win.” 

“Don’t turn your back on me—Coward!” 

You know immediately that it’s a mistake. It stills him in his step, and you find yourself as intrigued as you are panicked. The air seems to crackle as Obi-Wan turns back toward you, his jaw tight, and his dark and eyes narrowed with rage. You open your mouth to speak again, but gasp as pressure closes in around your neck, forcing you against the wall. You fight to keep your eyes on Obi-Wan’s, your irritation giving way to arousal as he silently stalks closer. You force your arms up, trying to summon your lightsaber again, but he knocks your wrist aside.

You swallow thickly, face twisted in frustration you fight against the Force. Obi-Wan stops toe-to-toe with you, his chest brushing yours. His gaze sweeps your face before he leans in. Your eyes lower to eye his dark robes, your breath catching as you feel the tip of his nose brush your cheekbone. 

“Look at you,” He murmurs, tipping his head to the side; the bristle of his beard against your cheek makes your stomach flip. “Pathetic…Weak. It’s almost precious to watch you struggle.”

You shiver as he presses closer, your body going hot at his purred taunts.

“You like it, don’t you,” He adds, his breath brushing against your ear. “I see how you fight for it. I know that you are more powerful than you appear, but you make these…Silly little mistakes. For what? For this?” 

You choke out a moan as you feel the Force tighten for just a moment before it loosens again. Obi-Wan tuts softly, shaking his head. 

“If you challenge me, you need to be ready for all that comes with it. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Master.” 

“Do you?” He chuckles cruelly. “You can hardly keep your lightsaber in your hand—Ah, ah…” The pressure tightens around your neck again as you try to press closer to him, “Temper, temper.” 

He tips his chin up, staring down his nose at you. 

“What you want…Is beyond the bounds of what you have known. Can you handle what comes with it?” 

“I can, Master.” 

He hums speculatively, nodding slowly. 

“We shall see.” 

--

You can’t breathe. Your throat spasms around Obi-Wan's cock, your nails digging into his thighs as you struggle against the hold that he has on the back of your neck, and the shove of his hips. It’s another blinding, head-splitting moment before he lets you pull away. You draw in a thick, greedy breath, coughing wetly as peer up at Obi, your eyes tearing. He strokes his fingers along your nape, the sweet feeling making your lashes flutter for just a moment—

Until he shoves you back down. Your jaw goes slack, aching from exertion as you take him between your lips again. You press closer, shuffling your knees against the floor as he reclines in his seat. You press your thighs together, savoring the aching throb as you messily swipe your tongue against his thick shaft. You shiver as the top of his boot catches against your clothed, slick pussy, and you can’t help but press slightly against the crinkling leather. He scoffs above you, pressing his leg between your thighs. 

“Look at you,” He coos, “You desperate little slut…Humping my leg like a charhound in heat.” 

You whimper around him, driving your hips forward into the pressure. You bob your head, swirling your tongue messily along the shaft. You brace again as Obi-Wan holds your head down, his groans filling your ears as you struggle and gag. He lets go just long enough for you to catch your breath before immediately pushing you back down. His hips bound up against you, and you aren’t given a word of warning as he cums. You surrender to it, desperately trying to swallow. When you can’t, you draw off of his cock and raise your hand. You gather the spit and cum that have slipped and swipe your fingers through them before sliding your hand beneath your trousers. 

The first slick, heated touch to your clit makes you moan aloud. Obi-Wan hinges forward in the chair and leans over you, spreading the remainder of the mess across your face before sliding his hand around your throat. You press into the hot feeling of his palm and fingers as he squeezes. His gaze is heavy on yours as your eyelids flutter, your hips driving into your touch as you chase the pressure building between your thighs, even as your head seems to throb. His grip tightens, his face twisted into a snarl as you pant desperately. 

“M-More,” You plead, whimpering as you feel the added pressure of the Force beneath his palm. Your mouth parts as you pant, your vision beginning to crowd with spots. 

“Master...Obi—" Your eyes roll into the back of your head, hand faltering as you struggle to draw in a breath—

You fall to the floor as he releases you, your hips jolting as you cum. Your fingers still move on auto-pilot; your head pounds, still reeling from the restraint. You draw in a greedy breath, watching stars dance in your vision as you stare at the ceiling. You swallow thickly as you settle, the blood still roaring in your ears. Your head lolls to the side a touch as you see Obi-Wan stand, and watch him straighten his trousers. He forgoes his tunic as he stands over you, his eyes sweeping down your body. 

“...Dress,” He counsels, “And leave. We’ll resume in the morning.” 

“Yes, Master.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414 ; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021 ; @thatesqcrush ; @adarasforest ; @s-u-t ; @silversprings-mp3 ; @senawashere ;

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

Writing exercise

I wanted to have some fun and do a little writing exercise, so I've written some short disjointed flashes of a perhaps larger fic, inspired by this prompt list.

I'll be posting one a day for the next fifteen days.

The Sith

"I have dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist," the Sith whispered against his ear, sending a tingle down his spine in anticipation.

When a hot mouth sucked his earlobe in, biting none too gently, he gasped in pained pleasure, writhing against the strong body that held him trapped between it and the cold wall.

A moan escaped him at the sensation of a well-trimmed beard brushing the sensitive skin on his neck, but he refused to give in too easily and he managed to force out, "maybe if you ask really nicely I can make your dream come true."

"Oh, darling," came the purring reply, "you know our little game better than that, you'll be the one begging at the end."

2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

[im-poe-dameron]

tell it to my heart

a/n: my final contribution to @sithobiwanevent! i really broke my heart with the second one i wrote, but this one is more fun. i couldn't get the prompt out of my head and well it devolved into something really feral. so i hope y'all enjoy the sith!obi-wan smut and know there is more to come one day.

sith!obi-wan event: inappropriate use of the force

summary: obi-wan turned to the dark side, but his love for you remained. you fell beside him - hand in his and fates intertwined - knowing that one day when the time came his love for you would never waver.

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: sith!obi-wan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, inappropriate use of the force, obi-wan is filthy, dirty talk, love, choking, messy kisses, fingering, cumeating, he's obsessed with his darling.

He's no longer gentle with his touch. No longer able to caress the softness of your skin without the rough grasp of the man he evolved into. He is unable to see the pain that flickers in your gaze as he grips your cheeks. The tenderness that's faded to a bitter and darkened mind.

The man you once loved—the Jedi you fell to the darkness for—no longer existed. Dragging the softness that once remained to an unmarked grave with him.

"Beautiful," he remarked, fingers digging sharply into your cheeks as yellow irises dragged down your form.

The room is dark; a faint glow of the moon filtered through the chambers you shared. But even that remained enough for him to see you. His hands a heavy press on the curve of your hips; lips hovering your own with a grin. Sometime in the last hour you climbed into his lap and stayed there. Lips dragging along the edge of his jaw.

"My love," he murmured—the voice soothing and calm

If you listened hard enough you would hear the reverence in the lilt of his words, his tone the only gentle piece of him that remained. That alone was reserved for you. The paramour at his side; the one who followed him to hell without a moments hesitation. You killed the light in your own heart to see him smile, as if you were the only thing worth living for.

Obi-Wan knew that you longed for the past. That no matter how hard you tried; she remained. Battering against an already locked door. There would never be a part of you that existed without the Jedi you fought so hard to kill. He could see it in your eyes—the dimmed light he loved for so long burning brighter as the days went on.

"What do you want tonight my lord?" you purred, hips settling over his.

A warm hand settled against your throat; want spilling into your chest. "My fierce Jedi."

You froze, eyes pulling wide. "W-What?"

"I need not repeat myself darling."

"But I'm-"

"Still in there." Something all too familiar slid beneath the tie of his robes that draped over your form. His thumb pressed to the hollow of your throat. "I can feel the light against your soul. So bright."

The whimper that fell past your lips was involuntary. Though the smile against your jaw told you he liked it. You worried that he would be disappointed in how easily the light side of the Force beckoned you closer. How quickly you found yourself slipping back into a past you thought died with him.

But the way he pulled you closer, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, let you know that your doubts were founded on nothing. Merely a lapse in memory of who still held your heart.

Light or dark, Obi-Wan would love you regardless. A part of him had become consumed by you. Past the point of obsession and need. There would never be a version of him that existed without you. The Sith who'd grown so attached to a Jedi he was willing to kill whoever dared step in the way.

"Don't be afraid," he breathed, feeling the hesitation in your chest. The beat of your heart quicker than minutes prior.

The smooth glide of what you realized were his hands along your thighs, rose to the bare curve of your hips. Yet one glance at his body showed his palms remained around your throat—the other settled at the top of your ass. A way to keep you still for him as he ventured further.

"You think I don't see you."

Reaching out through the Force, his fingers toyed with the flesh of your mound. Thumb brushing along the seam of your already dripping cunt. You gasped, eyes fixed on his relaxed face as he played with you in the depths of his mind. The hand on your throat, pulled you close—lips finding yours, tongue sliding in to lick along your teeth.

"Maker." Your head fell against his, body curving into his touch.

"I see what you've tried to hide from me darling." Dipping further, you felt the breath punch from your lungs when he circled your clit. "You've tried so hard to welcome the darkness. But you can't."

"I can," you whined, hands cupping his jaw. "I will."

"No," he muttered, lips wet against your cheek. "I won't let you."

"F-fuck-" The stimulation on your clit remained as something plunged into your entrance. Squelching loudly in the empty room, filled with panting breaths and soft moans.

The grip on your throat tightened, eyes flying open to see his darkened stare as the pace began to quicken. Pumping in and out of you with rapid strokes, and striking against a spot along your walls that made your vision blur. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he drank in each expression that flickered across your face.

"I've killed for you my love. I will kill for you. And in return...you will give me back the Jedi I fell in love with."

He wasn't soft with his movements. His mind had become sharp, the entirety of his power now focused on dragging you to a release quicker than you ever experienced before. It didn't build with languid warmth as you were used to. This burned through every nerve in your body. Until you were clutching at his robes—thighs trembling around his hips.

"I-I'm-"

"I know," he cooed, allowing you a second to breathe before his fingers tightened once more. Cutting off your airway entirely. "Let me see your light."

A grind of his hips pushing up into your clit toppled you over the edge. Nails dug sharply into his shoulders, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, as you shook in his hold. Your eyes rolled back painfully and for a moment you wondered if this was his way of sending you to the afterlife. If he truly didn't mean what he said.

Until the light began to creep back in.

"There we go," he whispered against your cheek, releasing you from his hold as you raggedly gasped for air. "Don't taint your soul to stand beside me darling. I will love you regardless."

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as he finally indulged in the soft manner of someone you thought was lost to the depths of endless pain. His fingers dipped into your slick, coating his skin in it before drawing it up to his mouth. The soft moan that left his lips set your body on edge. Your cunt fluttering at the sight of him like this.

"How can I be sure?" You felt the trepidation leak into your heart. The fear that this might not remain at the end of all things.

He smiled, gripping your chin to pull you back to him. "Because you fell to darkness for me.”

Though he didn’t say it, you could see what he wanted to say fringe on the edges of his mind. Entering yours with the swiftness of his love. You fell to the dark side for him, and when the time comes...he would fall into the light with you.

[theetherealbloom]

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 5

Chapter Five: Closing In

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families needing medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and the bounty hunters. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive!FemReader (Empath)

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths, One Bed Trope, Awkward, Plot Holes

Word Count: 10k

A/N: I swear I don’t mean to take months to update! I get sidetracked so often by random things and other obsessions. I’m at a point with this story where I get lost with the timeline so then I have to reread what I wrote (try not to cringe at my writing) and then continue on writing the next chapter. Usually, I’m very organized with my outline so I don’t lose track of where I am plot-wise, but Star Wars is— it truly is something else. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! We’re one step closer to the season finale. Love you guys :>

Song: De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier

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OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – EVENING

It had become apparent to you that Din was touch-starved, even though he never openly admitted it. You could trace the progression of his need for physical contact, starting with subtle gestures like a comforting touch on your elbow or a gentle squeeze of your hand in public. These small interactions held unspoken messages of affection, revealing a side of Din that he rarely showed to the world.

His tactile expressions of intimacy grew more pronounced over time. Your heart skipped a beat the first time he cupped your face, his gloved hand warm against your cheek. The tenderness of that touch spoke volumes, carrying a depth of emotion that words couldn't quite capture. It was a silent promise, a reassurance that you were not alone in this unpredictable universe.

One memory stood out vividly: a day when the three of you found yourselves in a cantina on an outer rim planet. The credits Din had earned were put to practical use, securing supplies and a decent meal for all of you. While Din went to order drinks, you focused on the child, ensuring he was comfortable and fed.

Amid your care-taking, an unfamiliar man appeared, his presence casting a shadow over your booth. You regarded him with skepticism, raising an eyebrow as his words dripped with overconfidence.

"Can I help you with something?" you responded, your tone laced with a mix of caution and annoyance. The stranger's attempt at flirtation was as transparent as the space beyond the cantina's windows.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?" he purred, his words dripping with unmistakable intent.

Suppressing an inward sigh at the sheer predictability of his approach, you let a subtle, sarcastic smile curve your lips. The galaxy had taught you to navigate these situations with a mix of wits and composure.

As the child cooed beside you, curiosity evident in his innocent eyes, you shifted your gaze back to the stranger, his overconfident demeanor oozing from every pore. Your reply was measured, tinged with a hint of dry amusement, "Clearly, I'm not alone and occupied, so if you could leave, please."

Undeterred, the stranger continued with his advances. "C'mon, baby, don't be such a priss. I'll show you a good time."

You were on the cusp of rising from your seat, ready to firmly reiterate your point when a sudden shift in the atmosphere seized the cantina's attention. It was as if the air had changed, thickened by an invisible tension. The chattering voices seemed to hush instinctively.

Amid the palpable silence, Din materialized like an imposing guardian. His presence radiated authority and raw power, his Mandalorian armor reflecting the ambient light, turning him into an almost mythical figure. His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, sharp and unyielding, "She said leave."

The room held its collective breath as the stranger's bluster crumbled in the face of Din's command. The confrontation became a silent battle of wills, one that spoke volumes without the need for further words. The stranger's retreat marked a victory for the indomitable force that Din embodied, leaving the cantina in stunned silence.

Your gaze shifted from the defeated stranger to Din, who stood there with an intensity that both reassured and electrified the room. His unspoken declaration of protection wasn't lost on you, a testament to the bond forged through shared trials and unspoken connections.

And then, with a swift shift, Din's demeanor transformed. His grip on patience loosened, and his actions spoke volumes where words had been unnecessary. In a heartbeat, he had seized the offender, the loud crack of bone echoing through the hushed cantina as the stranger's resistance was brutally halted.

Your breath caught, a sharp inhale of surprise and a hint of awe, as the resounding crack of bone filled the air. It was a stark punctuation to Din's swift and decisive intervention, a thunderous echo of authority that cut through the cantina's previous cacophony. The clatter of utensils and the discordant symphony of bowls added to the jarring chorus, a testimony to the power that had just been unleashed.

The stranger, once so assertive, now resembled a scurrying insect, his escape marked by a trail of spilled drinks and overturned stools. He disappeared into the crowded haze of the cantina, no longer a contender in this silent duel.

Throughout this confrontation, Din's gaze remained unyielding, a force of nature that had momentarily swept the establishment into a hushed reverence. As the patrons bore witness to the unassailable might he wielded, their earlier bravado had crumbled into hushed awe.

With the situation resolved, Din's attention shifted back to you, and that deep, unspoken connection that had been nurtured through shared challenges seemed to shimmer in the charged atmosphere. His gloved hand gently found yours, prompting you to rise from your booth. You cradled the child securely in your arms, his innocent eyes bearing witness to this display of protective strength.

“I could have handled it,” you spoke, your voice soft and understanding, and Din nodded, a faint hint of gratitude in his voice. “I know.”

A beat passed between you, the atmosphere laden with unspoken words. Then, Din continued, his words tinged with vulnerability, "I could not just stand there and do nothing," he said, “I would... the things I would do to ensure you and the child are safe.”

His voice trailed off, leaving the weight of his unspoken commitment hanging in the air. It was a promise forged in the crucible of their shared experiences. A vow to protect and cherish, even if it meant confronting the darkest corners of the galaxy.

You blinked, your gaze filled with understanding and affection. With a gentle hand, you reached out, placing it over his heart, and whispered, "I know. I would too."

To your surprise, he was the first one to initiate the hug. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you into an embrace that felt surprisingly warm beneath the cool, unyielding exterior of his beskar armor. You still held the child in your arms, creating an intimate tableau of unity. Surprisingly, the hard plate of his chest was comforting, the armor a symbol of his steadfast protection. In his embrace, you felt safe, secure, and trusted, as if nothing in the galaxy could harm you as long as you were in his arms.

Maybe that's why you two ended up where you are now. In the passing days and nights, your connection deepened, communicated through silent reassurances by the simple touch of an elbow or the light squeeze of his gloved hand. Din seemed to always find a reason to be near you, seeking excuses to touch and hold you, even if only for a brief moment.

There were times when you would prepare food for the three of you, and Din would just watch from a few steps away. Despite the helmet, you could feel his gaze as he observed you move around the small workspace, heating the food. You would glance over your shoulder to smile at him, and his heart would flutter wildly.

In those moments, you could see the shimmering outline of his silver aura mixing with shades of reds and maroons, a silent testament to the emotions he kept hidden behind the beskar helmet. 

The nights in the cramped bunk leave you no room to move, but you find it surprisingly comfortable, curled up together. The baby sleeps soundly in his hammock nearby, his tiny breaths filling the small space with a sense of peace.

During those nights, Din often surprises you with unspoken acts of service. He'll quietly slip out of bed, leaving you wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, and return with a cup of hot caf. He never says a word, but the gesture speaks volumes, warming not just your body but your heart as well.

Sometimes, he'll softly hum a lullaby, a hauntingly beautiful tune that you've never heard before. The melody dances in the air, soothing both you and the baby, creating a bond that goes beyond words between the three of you.

As you lie there, nestled in his arms, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, you've found something exceptional in the vast, unforgiving galaxy.

The peace the three of you had found seemed almost too good to be true. It was a fragile tranquility in a galaxy filled with chaos, and you knew deep down that it wouldn't last long. Still, you couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you could carve out a small sanctuary for yourselves.

But as you entered the flight deck one day and saw the look on Din's face, you knew that the serenity was about to be shattered. Concern etched your features as you asked, "What's wrong?"

Din didn't immediately reply. Instead, he pressed a button, and a flickering hologram message of Greef Karga materialized before you. His gravelly voice filled the cockpit, delivering a message that sent a chill down your spine.

"My friend, if you are receiving this transmission, that means you are alive," Greef Karga's hologram began. "You might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown."

The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, and you exchanged a knowing glance with Din. It seemed that your past had come back to haunt you again, and the peace you had briefly tasted was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand from Tatooine.

Greef Karga's hologram continued to flicker as he outlined the dire situation on Nevarro. His gravelly voice held a tone of urgency as he explained, "They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize."

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on you and Din. It was clear that this was no ordinary mission; it was a perilous gambit that carried immense risks. Karga's proposal hung in the air, the unspoken words echoing loudly in the confined space of the Razor Crest.

"So, here is my proposition," Karga continued. "Return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange, and provide loyal Guild members as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the child and I will have your name cleared with the Guild, for a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism."

The concern in your eyes didn't escape Din's notice as you voiced your doubts. "This has to be a trap, Din," you asserted, your voice tinged with worry.

Din nodded in agreement, his thoughts mirroring yours. "Possibly."

A small, determined smile graced your lips as you continued, "We're gonna need help... from our friends."

As you glanced at the sleeping Child, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both of you. It was a decision that would determine the course of your future and the safety of the innocent life in your care.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Din made his decision clear. Without uttering a word, he steered the Razor Crest toward the coordinates Greef Karga had provided, the ship leaping into hyperspace. The die was cast, and a treacherous path lay ahead, but the bond between you and Din, and the allies you had made along the way, offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty.

SORGAN, 9ABY – DAY

The Razor Crest soared over the lush tree canopy of Sorgan, its engines humming like a contented beast. As the forest gave way to an open area, Din carefully brought the ship down, landing with the grace of a seasoned pilot.

Exiting the ship, you and Din followed a worn path that led to a common house in the distance. The atmosphere was different here, far removed from the cold metal of your ship. It was a place where the rustic charm of Sorgan had found a home.

Inside the common house, the commotion caught your attention. A sizable crowd had gathered, their voices mixing with the clatter of glasses and the low hum of conversation. At the center of the room, a makeshift boxing ring had been set up.

You and Din approached the ring just as Cara Dune, faced off against a male Zabrak fighter. Cara’s movements were swift and calculated, her strikes a testament to her combat prowess. The Zabrak, equally skilled, proved to be a formidable opponent. Each of them tethered to a laser that crackled with energy. The makeshift boxing ring suddenly felt smaller, the tension palpable as the combatants engaged in a fierce battle.

As the bout reached its climax, Cara executed a flawless maneuver, pulling the Zabrak in with the tether that connected them. The Zabrak, caught off guard by her sudden tactic, found himself unable to escape her grasp.

With a swift and decisive motion, Cara forced the Zabrak to tap out, his admission of defeat ringing through the air as the laser tether fizzled out between them.

Cara's triumphant grin illuminated her features as she basked in the adulation of the crowd, her chest heaving with exertion from the intense match. With a playful twinkle in her eye, she extended a victorious finger, punctuating her declaration to the assembled spectators.

"Pay up, mudscuffers! Come on. That's mine, thank you. All right, thank you," Cara exclaimed, her voice carrying over the din of the cheering crowd. In response, several patrons begrudgingly reached into their pockets, producing credits to settle their wagers.

You, Din, and the Child entered Cara's line of sight, drawing her attention away from the crowd. Din's voice, deep and commanding, cut through the noise of the common house as he addressed her directly.

"Looking for some work?" Din inquired as he broached the subject with Cara and you all decided to take a seat and have a drink as you discussed the situation.

"It's a straightforward operation," Din elucidated to Cara, his voice low and measured. Leaning forward, he rested his left forearm on the table, his gaze unwavering as he outlined the details. “They're providing the plan and firepower. I'm the snare.” Meanwhile, you tended to the Child who fussed beside you, keeping one eye on the conversation.

"With the kid? And her?" Cara inquires, casting a glance your way.

"That's why we're reaching out to you," you respond softly, meeting Cara's gaze.

Cara sighs, weighing the risks. "I don't know. I've been advised to keep a low profile. If anyone runs my chain code, I'll be in a cell for life."

"I thought you were a veteran," Din remarks, his silver helmet catching the light as he speaks. The defeated Zabrak fighter drops a credit on the table and nods at Cara, who offers a smile. "Come back soon," she calls after him.

"I've been a lot of things since. Most of them come with a life sentence," Cara explains, her expression serious. "If I so much as board a ship registered to the New Republic, I'm—"

"We have a ship," Din interjects, his voice firm. "I can take you there and back, and there'll be a handsome reward waiting. You can live free of worry."

"I'm already free of worry, and I'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore," Cara says, taking a sip from her cup. "Especially not for some local warlord."

"He's not a local warlord," Din interjects, his voice low and with a growl. You finish the statement, your tone was distant, eyes glazed. "He's Imperial."

Cara takes a deep breath and offers a small smile as she nods. "I'm in."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

"Does your contact need to vet me?" Cara leans against the side of the cockpit panel, her arms crossed. Din shakes his head. "Doesn't know you're coming."

Cara raises an eyebrow. "Really? That could be a problem."

"It won't. But if it is, that's his problem." Din shrugs before exiting the cockpit. You give the Child a gentle pat as he sits beside you, then follow Din down the ladder and to the weapons locker with Cara.

"Is he alright up there alone?" Cara asks, nodding towards the cockpit. 

Din nods. "Yeah." He opens the locker, the doors hissing as they slide apart. Gesturing to the array of weapons, he adds, "Pick one."

"Do you trust the contact?" Cara inquires, brows raised as she sifts through the locker's contents, a grin playing on her lips.

Din lets out a sigh. "Not particularly," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of wariness. "He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business."

"So then why are we going?" Cara questions, her tone laced with curiosity as she glances over at Din.

"I don't have a choice," Din responds, his voice carrying a weight of resignation. He pauses, then reaches out to pull you closer to his side, anchoring you against him as he leans against the ship's panel. "You saw what happened on Sorgan. They'll keep sending hunters," he continues, his gaze steady. "The kid and her... they'll never be safe until the Imp is dead."

"And you're okay with bringing them back there?" Cara asks skeptically, a hint of concern coloring her tone. You frown slightly, your expression conveying a sense of determination as you respond, "I can take care of myself."

"What about the kid? We need someone to watch that thing," Cara remarks, gesturing towards the Child above in the cockpit. Din nods in agreement, acknowledging the need for a trustworthy guardian. "Yeah."

"You got anyone you can trust?" Cara inquires further, her gaze shifting between you and Din.

You feel Din's thumb brush over the exposed part of your hip, a comforting gesture that sends a subtle warmth rippling through your body. He hums softly, his presence enveloping you in shades of silver and grey, a reassuring aura amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

Suddenly, the ship begins to rumble, Cara stumbles, her hands reaching out to brace herself against the wall. Meanwhile, Din swiftly pulls you closer to his body, a protective instinct evident in his actions. With a gruff huff, he releases you and heads back up the ladder.

You and Cara follow Din up the ladder, only to find the Child meddling with the controls, causing the ship to thrash and rumble. Din takes charge, settling into the pilot's seat to stabilize the Razor Crest once more.

"We really need someone to watch over him," you remark, holding the Child securely in your arms while Din nods and agrees, “Yeah.”

MOISTURE FARM, ARVALA-7 — SUNSET

The Razor Crest settles on the desolate planet of Arvala-7, its rocky surface bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. As the ramp lowers, you step out alongside Din and Cara, the hovering pram carrying the Child trailing close behind.

Your eyes fall on the Ugnaught Din mentioned, a figure named Kuiil, who greets you warmly as you make your way to his home. With a nod, you duck your head to enter the tunnel-shaped structure, eager to get to know Kuiil.

"It hasn't grown much," Kuiil remarks, his eyes fixated on the Child.

Din nods in agreement. "I think it might be a Strand-Cast."

Kuiil shakes his head slowly. "I don't think it was engineered. I've worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly."

"I had a dream recently," you begin, your voice soft but earnest. "A creature like him named Yoda appeared to me… this little one is likely to be one of his kind."

Din listens intently, his gaze underneath his helmet fixed on you as you speak.

"It’s why I followed you, at first," you continue, turning to face him. "Because the last time the Empire had Force Sensitive children…" You trail off, overcome with emotion. "I just couldn’t leave him there."

Din's gauntleted hand gently clasps yours, emanating a comforting warmth that sends a tender sensation coursing through your veins. You feel a soft flush rise to your cheeks as you meet his gaze, the visor of his helmet lending an air of mystery to his expression.

Kuiil clears his throat, his gaze shifting between you and Din. "You and Din make a formidable pair," he says with a nod, his tone carrying a note of respect. "A union like yours brings strength and unity in uncertain times."

A flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks, prompting you to avert your gaze momentarily. However, Din's firm grip on your waist draws you closer to where you sat, anchoring you in his reassuring presence.

Meanwhile, Kuiil turns to Cara with a playful glint in his eye. "This one, on the other hand," he remarks, "looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora."

You gesture toward Cara with a smile, introducing her to Kuiil. Cara responds with a nod, her own smile reflecting the camaraderie in the room.

Kuiil's eyes settle on Cara's arm, where the telltale tattoo of a Dropper catches his attention. "You were a Dropper," he observes, prompting Cara to raise an intrigued eyebrow. "Did you serve?" she inquires the Ugnaught.

Kuiil settles onto a stool, his expression taking on a thoughtful cast. "On the other side, I'm afraid," he admits. "But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt, and now I serve no one but myself."

As Kuiil speaks, the room is suddenly interrupted by the mechanical steps of an approaching figure. You glance toward the entrance and see an IG-11 droid entering, carrying a tray of steaming drinks. Instantly, both Din and Cara spring to their feet, blasters are drawn, their defensive instincts kicking in. Meanwhile, you remain seated, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on your face.

The IG-11 droid, its metallic voice crisp and clear, breaks the tension with an unexpected offer. "Would anyone care for some tea?"

Kuiil, ever composed, raises a calming hand towards Din and Cara. "Please lower your blasters," he urges, his voice steady and assured. "He will not harm you."

"That thing is programmed to kill the baby," Din asserts, his voice tinged with anger as he keeps his blaster trained on the IG unit.

Kuiil interjects calmly as IG-11 places the tray on the table in front of you, "Not anymore. It was left behind in the wake of your destruction.”

“I found it laying where it fell. Devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remained of its neural harness.” Kuiil recounted to you and you listened intently.

"Reconstruction was quite the challenge, but not impossible," Kuiil reflects, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "It had to learn everything anew. This is not a task for mere machinery. It demands patience and repetition. Day after day, I nurtured its growth with care and affirmation. And as its experiences expanded, so did its personality."

Din remains skeptical, his tone betraying his doubt as he inquires, "Is it still a hunter?"

"No," Kuiil replies firmly, "but it will defend."

As the IG-11 droid offers, “Tea?” Cara grabs the cup and takes a sip while you exchange glances with Kuiil, sensing the sincerity in his words reflected in the warm hues of the sunset. With a reassuring touch, you rise from your seat and place a hand on Din's outstretched arm, gently guiding down the blaster. "He speaks the truth," you affirm softly. "It’s okay. We’re okay."

Reluctantly, Din secures his blaster back into its holster, his tension easing slightly as he acknowledges the reassurance in your words.

"I've encountered some difficulties," Din admits as he approaches Kuiil, who is tending to the Blurrg.

Kuiil emits a thoughtful hum. "Seems like you've been managing quite well. Especially with her support," he remarks, nodding in your direction. You're engrossed in play with the Child, introducing the little one to the droid, while Cara observes with interest.

As Din watches you, bathed in the warm glow of the setting suns, he can't help but marvel at your radiance. Your smile outshines even the brightest stars in the galaxy. In that moment, he feels a profound sense of gratitude for having someone like you by his side.

A warm sensation stirs within Din as he watches you laugh at something the Child finds amusing. The primal urge to claim you as his own surges within him, an instinctual longing he struggles to suppress. Beneath his helmet, his jaw tightens as he fixates on you, momentarily lost in the intensity of his emotions. When you glance his way and offer a smile and a wave, his heart swells with longing, yearning for a world where he could have you all to himself, free from the burdens that weigh upon you both.

Swallowing hard, Din tears his gaze away, attempting to regain his composure. "That's not... that's not why we're here," he insists, his voice tinged with an edge of determination.

"I assumed as much. There must be another reason for your return," Kuiil observes with a knowing hum.

Din's voice carries a low, earnest tone as he addresses the Ugnaught. "I need your services."

"I'm retired from service," Kuiil responds, his voice measured.

Ignoring the subtle refusal, Din presses on, his words tinged with a hint of desperation. "I can pay you handsomely, Ugnaught.”

The Ugnaught, displeased by Din's persistence, harumphs. "I have a name. It is Kuiil."

Din's gaze remains unwavering as he makes his request clear. "I require someone to protect the child, Kuiil."

Kuiil shakes his head, his resolve unwavering. "I am not suited for such work. I can reprogram IG-11 for nursing and protocol duties."

Din's voice grows firmer, his tone resolute. "No. I do not want that droid anywhere near him."

"Why are you so distrustful of droids?" Kuiil asks, his tone curious yet skeptical.

Din's response is matter-of-fact. "It tried to kill him."

Kuiil nods, understanding. "It was programmed to do so. Droids are not inherently good or bad. They are neutral reflections of those who imprint them." He looks to Din, hoping to impart some sense to the Mandalorian.

Din's voice carries a distant gravity as he speaks with a serious tone. "I've seen otherwise."

"Do you trust me?" Kuiil's gravelly voice breaks the silence, his gaze steady on Din.

Din nods thoughtfully. "From what I can tell, yes."

"Then trust my work. IG-11 will join me," Kuiil asserts, his tone resolute. "And we do it not for payment, but to protect the child from Imperial slavery."

A weight seems to settle on Din's shoulders as he exhales softly. Kuiil's continues, "None will be free until the old ways are gone forever."

Din takes a moment to consider, his mind churning with the implications. Finally, he meets Kuiil's gaze and nods. "Okay."

"The blurrgs?" Din queries, a hint of confusion in his voice as Kuiil starts to walk away.

Kuiil pauses, turning back to face Din. "And the blurrgs will join me as well," he affirms, his tone carrying a sense of finality.

Kuiil turns once more and continues on his way, leaving Din standing there with a contemplative expression. As he disappears from sight, his parting words linger. "I have spoken."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

After securing the blurrgs in the Razor Crest's cargo hold, Din takes control of the ship's controls, steering it towards Nevarro. With the ship set on autopilot, you and he descend the ladder into the cargo hold, where the Child sits in his hovering pram, eyes wide with curiosity as he emits a soft cooing sound.

As you assist Kuiil with feeding the blurrgs, your attention is drawn to the sounds of grunting nearby. Slowly turning, you find Cara and Din engaged in an arm wrestle, their muscles straining against each other in the dim light of the cargo hold. Despite the intense competition, they appear evenly matched.

As you observe Din's impressive display of strength, a flutter of excitement stirs within you, mingled with a hint of something more intimate. His determination and power are undeniably captivating, igniting a subtle thrill that courses through your veins.

"I got you, Mando," Cara declares with a huff, her voice laced with determination.

Din's response is confident as ever. "Care to double the bet?" he challenges, his voice resonating with a subtle intensity. You catch a glimpse of his gaze behind the visor, sensing his determination.

Intense heat rises to your cheeks at the sound of his gruff grunt, the raw energy of the moment heightening your anticipation. You’ve been buzzing with anticipation for weeks.

But the heat fizzes out as a moment of panic grips you as Cara struggles, her hand dropping abruptly from the arm wrestling match. It startles both you and Din, prompting him to rise to his feet with urgency.

As you rush over to the Child, you hear Din's firm voice addressing the little one. "No! No, no! Stop! We're friends, we're friends. Cara is my friend!" he asserts, his tone authoritative.

Stretching out your hand, you tap into the Force, attempting to gently ease the Child's grasp on Cara. Gradually, the tension dissipates, and you release your hold on the Force, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Eager breaths escape your lips, leaving you slightly winded from the unexpected exertion.

Cara gestures toward the Child and voices her concern, "That is not okay!"

"Hmm. Very curious," Kuiil remarks, his gaze shifting to you and the Child.

"Curious? It almost killed me!" Cara exclaims, her alarm evident.

"The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense," Kuiil adds.

"Mudhorn?" You interject, your curiosity piqued. You glance over at Din, who has now moved closer to you, checking to ensure you're okay as you still catch your breath from the ordeal.

"What is it?" Din inquires Kuiil while keeping you close by his side.

"What it is, I don't know. But what it does, this… This I've heard rumors of," Kuiil replies.

Cara shoots the Ugnaught a skeptical glance. "What? When you worked for the Empire?"

Kuiil stands his ground, his tone resolute. "When I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude."

"Yet somehow, you walk free," Cara retorts with a scoff, rising to her feet. But Kuiil remains unfazed. "I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon what I am nor whom I shall serve."

As the swirling colors of intense emotions overwhelm your senses, you feel a surge of turbulence within. It's a challenge to maintain composure, especially given your empathic abilities.

Sensing your discomfort, Din's demeanor softens, a rare glimpse of tenderness shining through. In a voice touched with kindness, he addresses Kuiil, "Tell you what. I could really use your craftwork right now. Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?"

Kuiil acknowledges the request with a nod, his expression solemn. "I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands."

With purposeful movements, Kuiil sets to work, the hum of machinery filling the space as sparks fly from the welding gun. Meanwhile, the Child observes with wide-eyed curiosity. Feeling Din's comforting touch on your lower back, he guides you back up the ladder toward the cockpit.

You move to take a seat on a nearby chair, but before you can settle, Din swiftly pivots from his pilot chair. His strong hands encircle your waist, pulling you onto his lap in a single fluid motion. You emit a surprised yelp as you find yourself seated sideways, legs draped over his, and your head nestled against the cool surface of his beskar pauldron. Instinctively, you loop your arms around his neck to maintain your balance.

"Din! Cara could walk in any second," you whisper urgently.

He responds with a nonchalant hum. "She won't mind."

"But—"

"You seemed winded earlier, using your..." Din's voice trails off as he adjusts a few controls, and you finish his thought, "The Force?"

"Yes," he confirms.

You release a sigh and reach up to lightly touch the side of his helmet, wishing you could see beyond the reflective visor. "Din, I'm alright. It just took me by surprise. Later, I'll speak with the kid about using the Force responsibly. It's something we need to ensure he understands."

As you utter the word "we," something ignites within Din's chest. The notion of you wanting to stand by his side, to be integrated into his clan, strengthens his need to claim you as his own, to initiate the formal courtship.

With a gentle movement, he leans his helmet closer, as he uses his left gloved hand to hold the back of your neck, bringing your forehead to rest against his. The warmth of your skin contrasts with the cool touch of his beskar armor. You instinctively close your eyes, sharing a moment akin to the gesture known as the keldabe kiss.

You emit a soft sound, unable to suppress it as you sense him gently squeeze the back of your neck, expressing his desire to draw nearer. Din gruffly murmurs, "Soon, Cyar'ika. Soon."

"You better be fully clothed in there, I'm coming in!" Cara's voice echoes through the ship before the doors hiss open and shut, signaling her entrance. She finds you still seated on Din's lap, a sheepish expression on your face.

Wide-eyed, you attempt to slide off Din's lap, but he pulls you closer in a tighter grip. Your embarrassment intensifies, your cheeks burning as Cara smirks at you. Wanting to hide, you bury your face between Din's neck and shoulder, the heat of the moment igniting a mix of desire and embarrassment throughout your body.

Cara meticulously cleans her blaster as she addresses both of you, "So, we're heading to Nevarro?"

Din, still seated with you on his lap, engages in the conversation, "Have you been there before?"

"No," Cara responds, settling into her seat with the blaster and a rag in hand. "We lost a lot of our forces there. The city's dug in pretty deep. No cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control 'till the end of the war.”

Din nods in acknowledgment. "The warlord we're taking out was an Imperial officer.”

Cara's curiosity piques. "What station?"

Din turns his chair, keeping you snugly in his hold, as he explains, "Hard to tell. No insignia anymore.”

You attempt to wriggle out of his grasp once more, but his arm around your midsection keeps you firmly in place.

"We took out the safehouse when we snatched the kid." Din continues, his tone grave. "More Imps have reinforced since.” 

Apologies for the oversight. Here's the revised text, retaining the original dialogue:

"There's something more going on," Cara remarks as she begins to clean a different rifle.

"Maybe. We'll find out more when we land," Din replies, his gaze fixed on the controls.

The doors hiss open, and IG-11 steps inside, its robotic voice announcing, "I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?"

"I'm not hungry," Din says flatly.

The IG-11 leaves.

Cara's chuckle echoes lightly in the cockpit. "You got a real thing for droids, don't you?" she teases.

Din's voice remains monotone as he responds, his helmet reflecting the dim light. "I got a real thing for that droid."

"The Ugnaught said he rewired it," Cara mentions, her tone casual.

Din shakes his head, his expression hidden behind the helmet. "That droid was designed to kill things. I don't care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature."

Cara's departing words linger in the air as she heads back down to the cargo hold, leaving you and Din alone once more.

A hushed quiet falls between you, the hum of the ship's engines filling the space. You break the silence, the words catching in your throat. "We need to get ready..."

Din's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "Just let me hold you a little longer, Cyar'ika," he murmurs, his tone laden with affection. You meet his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through you, and with a quiet nod, you reply, "Okay."

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DUSK

The Razor Crest descends into a desolate corner of Nevarro, the distant hum of its engines fading as it settles on the uneven terrain. Your pulse quickens, the rhythm echoing in your ears as you adjust the cloak robe to conceal your lightsaber, keeping it out of sight.

The four of you dismount the ship, perched atop blurrgs, and spot Greef Karga approaching, accompanied by three other bounty hunters including a human, Nikto, and a Trandoshan. He strides toward your party, a mix of urgency and caution in his steps. "Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando, but things have gotten complicated since you were last here,” he says, coming to a halt a few paces away.

As he surveys the group, Greef Karga remarks, "It appears that introductions are in order. It seems we've both provided a security detail," His gaze shifts to Cara. "I'd suggest the shock trooper stays back to guard the ship. These lava fields are swarming with Jawas."

"She's coming with us," you assert firmly.

"But the town is now run by ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up," Greef Karga argues, attempting to dissuade you.

"She's coming," Din insists.

Greef Karga grudgingly relents. "Fine," he seethes, then relents once more with a resigned sigh. "Fine." Gesturing to Cara, he adds, "Just cover your tattoo. No need to draw unnecessary attention."

"Now, where's the little one?" Karga inquires. Din activates a button on his bracer, causing the hovering pram to glide forward, its hatch hissing open. Greef Karga leans in to inspect the Child, drawing uneasy gazes from the group. Fingers hover near blasters as tension mounts, and you clench your jaw.

"So, this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about. What a precious little creature. I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head," Greef Karga remarks, lifting the Child briefly before returning it to the hovering pram. Din swiftly closes the hatch with another press of his bracer, bringing the pram back to his side.

As the group prepares to embark on their journey across the lava fields of Nevarro, Greef Karga lays out the plan. "Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all. The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light," he explains. You nod in agreement as your group rides the blurrgs, ready to traverse the treacherous terrain.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — EVENING

As the group settles in for the night, a campfire crackles, casting flickering light on the surrounding faces. You find a spot on the ground, seated cross-legged like the others. Positioned between Din and the Child, Kuiil patiently feeds the young one while you quietly finish your meal.

Across the fire, the three bounty hunters sit, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. With a keen sense, you observe them, your empathic force powers awakening to perceive shades of darkness and red, hinting at hidden motives and deceit.

As you unconsciously shift closer to Din, preparing to whisper your observations, Greef Karga's voice cuts through the quiet night. He gazes at the Child, remarking, "I guess the little bugger's a carnivore. Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie."

"Let's go over the plan again," Din interjects, brushing off Karga's comments.

“We three enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him,” Greef Karga explains matter-of-factly, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

Din quickly follows up, “Tell me about his reinforcements.”

“They're all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they'll all scatter,” Greef Karga replies nonchalantly.

“And what if they don't?” You press further.

“They will,” Greef Karga asserts confidently.

Din shakes his head, “That's not good enough.”

Greef Karga sighs heavily, “If, for argument's sake, a few of them don't realize that I'm their best path to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock trooper, and your Jedi will cut down anyone who bucks.”

“I’m a medic, not a Jedi,” you mumble with a clenched jaw.

“How many will there be?” Din asks Greef Karga.

“No more than four,” Karga replies as he rises from his seated position, heading over to the large piece of meat roasting over the campfire. He reaches out to grab a piece, confidently stating, “He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. Trust me. Nothing can go wrong.”

However, his confidence is shattered as a large beast emerges from the darkness. It's a species of winged, predatory reptavians native to Nevarro. With a large wingspan, scaly and dry skin, and a dragon-like appearance, these reptavians have a pointed snout, a mouth filled with sharp teeth, and two brownish eyes.

One of the reptavians swoops down, sinking its teeth into Greef's arm, eliciting a pained grunt from him. Chaos erupts as blaster fire fills the air, echoing against the rocky terrain. Each member of the group takes aim, firing at the winged assailants with precision.

With swift movements, the Mandalorian secures the Child in his hovering pram, shielding the youngling from harm. Meanwhile, you ignite your lightsaber, its vibrant purple hue casting an eerie glow in the dim light. Swinging it fiercely, you fend off the winged creatures with determined strikes.

Amidst the commotion, a blurrg and a Trandoshan bounty hunter fall victim to the creatures' relentless onslaught. As one of the reptavians swoops down to snatch another blurrg, it meets its demise in a barrage of blaster fire, falling lifeless to the ground. Unfortunately, in the chaos, a blurrg is accidentally struck by friendly fire.

After the Mandalorian's flamethrower repels the winged creatures, a tense silence settles over the group, broken only by the occasional groan of pain from Greef Karga. As the dust settles and the smoke clears, everyone remains on edge, waiting to see if the creatures will return.

Moving swiftly, Kuiil rushes to Greef's side, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "He's hurt badly," Kuiil announces, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. Ow!" Greef insists through gritted teeth, his bravado failing to mask his discomfort. You kneel beside him, your focus on assessing his injury. The deep bite mark left by the reptavians catches your attention, and you speak with authority, "Hold still."

"They got you good," you murmur, your focus still fixed on the deep wound.

"How bad, Cyar'ika?" Din's voice comes from behind you as you work.

"Bad. The poison's spreading fast," you reply, urgency lacing your tone as you inject Greef Karga with a pen, hoping it will slow the venom's progress.

"So this... This is how it happens," Greef Karga says between labored breaths.

Cara rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs?" you urgently call out.

“Anyone? I'm guessing that's a ‘no’,” you say with a huff, frustration creeping into your voice. You glance back at his arm, noting the venom's continued spread. “It's still spreading. This isn't working.”

“Get this thing outta here,” Cara exclaims, prompting you to realize that the Child had approached unnoticed.

Observing the Child, Kuiil interjects, “Wait.”

The Child extends his tiny green hand and places it atop Greef Karga’s arm. With a wince, Karga cries out, “He's trying to eat me!”

You sense it too—the subtle hum of the Force emanating from the Child. With each focused use, the Child begins to harness his abilities, channeling them to gradually heal Greef Karga’s arm, leaving no trace of a scar. Witnessing such skill from one so young fills you with awe; Force Healing of this magnitude is exceedingly rare. A collective exhale fills the air, each member of the group seemingly sharing in the astonishment of witnessing such a miraculous feat.

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

As the sun begins to ascend, casting a dim light across the rugged landscape, the group presses onward. Smoke billows from the small volcanic vents scattered throughout the rocky terrain of Nevarro. An uneasy silence envelops the group, with Greef Karga's companions forging ahead, leaving you, Din, Cara, and Kuiil to tread quietly behind on foot, the Ugnaught trailing along atop the last remaining blurrg.

Cara speaks softly, directing her question to both you and Din. "You think they're having second thoughts?"

Din responds in a hushed tone, his voice barely audible. "Could be. I need your eyes."

"I'm watching," Cara confirms with a nod.

An hour later, your group arrives at the outskirts of Nevarro, with Greef Karga leading the way and you, Din, and Cara close behind. "I guess this is it," Greef Karga remarks, gazing out at the view. But something tugs at your gut, a feeling that something isn't right.

Before you can react, Greef abruptly turns around and fires at his associates, sending them collapsing lifeless to the ground. The sudden violence startles you, Din, and Cara. They swiftly unholster their blasters, aiming them at Greef Karga, while you grasp your saber hilt, activating it in readiness to deflect any blaster fire.

Din and Cara keep their blasters trained on Greef Karga, who raises his hands in surrender. "There's something you should know," he confesses as he ensures that both the bounty hunters are truly dead and kicks away their blasters. "The plan was to kill you and take the kid. But after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it."

Your brow furrows as you listen to Karga's plea. "Go on," he continues, "You can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn't violate the Code. But if you do, this child will never be safe."

Cara grits her teeth and shoots Karga a scowl. "We'll take our chances," she asserts firmly.

"The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you?" Greef Karga reasons, causing Cara to grow more agitated. "This is ridiculous," she tells Din.

"Perhaps you should let him speak," Kuiil interjects calmly, while you maintain a steady gaze on Greef Karga.

Karga points out, "Listen, we three need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the child to him and then you two…"

"No," Din interrupts firmly.

Cara clenches her jaw, her blaster aimed at Greef Karga. "Let's just kill him and get outta here," she suggests, her frustration evident.

You feel the Force connecting you through your empathic powers, sensing the true colors of Greef Karga. Taking a deep breath and deactivating your saber, you speak up. "He's right."

Din lowers his blaster, while Cara hisses in disbelief, "What are you doing?"

"As long as the Imp lives, he'll send hunters after the child," Din explains to Cara, who responds with a warning, "It's a trap."

"Bring me," Din suddenly interjects.

"What?" you exclaim, taken aback, while Greef Karga echoes, "Bring you?"

"Tell him you captured me. Get me close to him and I'll kill him," Din states with determination, and Karga nods, “That's a good idea. Give me your blaster.”

As Din hands over his blaster, it prompts you to protest as you take a step closer to him. "No! Hold on, it should be me. Bring me instead," you insist.

Din begins, "Cyar'ika—"

You sharply turn your head to face Greef Karga. "Do they know?"

Greef Karga begins to respond, but you cut him off, your voice tense with urgency. "Do. They. Know?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"Okay," you swallow, your mind racing through the options and landing on a decision. "You bring me in. Say that Cara captured me and convinced Mando to trade me instead of the Child." You then hand over your saber hilt to Greef Karga who pockets it.

"No. Absolutely not. You are going back to the ship with Kuiil and the Child," Din interjects, his tone firm.

"But without her or the Child, none of this works!" Karga exclaims, trying to reason.

"I’m going with you," you assert, stepping closer to Din. As he meets your gaze through his visor, you see the conflict in his eyes. He starts to protest, but you cut him off with a whispered plea, "I am going with you, and there is nothing you could say to convince me otherwise. We face these things together." You reach out and touch the side of his helmet, feeling the cool metal beneath your palm as you press your foreheads together. "Let me be there for you, like you were for me. Please."

Din hesitates, visibly conflicted. Finally, he lets out a shaky exhale. "Maker help me. Fine, fine. But you listen to me, alright? When I tell you to run, you run. Got it?"

You nod, determination in your eyes. "Okay."

Din grunts out his plan. "Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the child and seal yourself in. Once you're inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors."

"Here's a comlink," Kuiil says, handing Din the device. "I will keep the child safe."

Kuiil looks at Cara and advises, "Don't forget to cover your stripes."

"Let's go," Din nods, prompting everyone to prepare. He turns to you, offering a pair of silver binders. You secure your hands in front of him, feeling a flush of embarrassment at the familiar sensation of the cuffs.

With a click, your hands are bound, and he asks softly, "Not too tight?"

Feeling playful, you respond with a cheeky grin, "You could make it tighter."

There's a warmth in his chest, almost like laughter. His mouth quirks into a smirk. "Cyar'ika, you are going to be the death of me."

You freeze, sensing the shift in his demeanor beneath the helmet. It's almost like awe or something.

"What?" he asks, catching your reaction.

"You're smiling, I can tell by your voice," you note, smiling yourself. Your eyes meet the visor of his helmet, and his skin prickles with awareness.

Suddenly, he wants you a lot closer. In his lap. Straddling him, maybe. Your hands in his hair, and his in yours. But there's no time for that. You clear your throat, breaking the moment, and gesture toward Greef Karga, who is waiting for the other pair of stun cuffs to restrain Din.

Din regains his composure, walking over to Greef Karga to be cuffed. As he does, Cara conceals her tattooed arm with a cloth, and Kuiil picks up the Child from the hovering pram. With your group heading in opposite directions, you hope fervently that everything will go according to plan.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — DAY

Greef and Cara escort the bound Mandalorian, you, and the hovering pram toward the town. At the gate, they come across two scout troopers riding 74-Z speeder bikes.

"Chain code?" one of the Scout Troopers demands, eyeing Greef Karga suspiciously.

Greef nods toward you and Din. "I have a gift for the boss."

The Scout Trooper repeats, "Chain code?" with insistence. Reluctantly, Greef retrieves his card and hands it over.

The Scout Trooper scans Greef's card. "I'll give you 20 credits for the helmet," he offers, eyeing the Mandalorian's helmet.

Greef lets out a fake laugh. "Ha-ha! Not a chance. That's going on my wall."

Din leans in to Karga, whispering, "On your wall?" Greef shoots him a pointed look. "Go with it."

"Go ahead," the Scout Trooper says, returning Greef's card. The group proceeds forward into town.

Cara gives Greef a sharp look. "You said four. There are more than four troopers."

Greef explains quietly, "Four guarding the client. Many more here in town. Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse."

Cara suggests, "Slip him his blaster."

Greef shakes his head. "Not yet."

You approach the cantina's entrance, Greef Karga announcing, "Here we are." As the door slides open, the once bustling space is now eerily empty, save for the watchful eyes of the stormtroopers stationed inside, their presence unsettling.

Greef nods towards the troopers. "You see? Four." He then leads you and Din towards the Client, gesturing towards both of you. "Look what I brought you. As promised."

The Client moves closer to Din, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns of Din's beskar chest plate. "What exquisite craftsmanship. It's remarkable how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans."

Your expression twists in disgust as you watch the Client touch Din's armor. Then, the Client's attention shifts to you, his hand reaching out to grab your face. You meet his gaze with a defiant glare as he remarks, "Ah, the Jedi. Word travels fast whenever your kind is spotted." His tone drips with disdain. "What a waste."

As the Client releases your face, you feel a surge of revulsion. Sensing Din's simmering anger, you brace yourself.

"Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?" the Client proposes to Greef Karga, who accepts with a nod.

An RA-7 protocol droid sets to work at the bar, preparing drinks for Greef and the Client. Gesturing towards a nearby booth, the Client invites, "Please, have a seat."

As you take your place, the Client begins, "It's regrettable that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable."

He turns his attention to Din. "Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire enhances every system it touches." You let out a derisive scoff, prompting the Client to continue, undeterred. "Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside." He gestures towards the window. "Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos."

You grit your teeth and suppress a retort, sensing the Client's emotions swirling before you, a dark maelstrom of black and red hues.

"I would like to see the baby," the Client requests.

Greef Karga clears his throat. "Uh... It's asleep."

"We'll all be quiet. Open the pram," the Client insists, narrowing his eyes. You swallow nervously, feeling a sense of unease. But before the situation can escalate, a stormtrooper approaches the Client and murmurs something discreetly. The Client stands abruptly. "Don't think me to be rude. I must take this call."

A stormtrooper sets up a holoprojector as the Client strides over to it. Under the table, Greef Karga discreetly unbinds his restraints, while Din swiftly does the same for you, his hands deftly removing the cuffs. "Give me the blaster and her saber hilt," he instructs Karga, his tone firm.

"You get one shot," Greef Karga reminds Din as he hands over your saber hilt. Din passes it to you with a determined nod.

Cara leans in close, her voice barely a whisper. "This is bad. You said four."

"Well, there are more. What can I tell you?" Greef Karga replies quietly.

A tense moment hangs in the air, and you sense a shift in the atmosphere. Before you can react, gunfire erupts from outside the cantina, catching everyone off guard. The shots strike the Client and his stormtroopers, sending them sprawling to the ground. Instinctively, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef dive behind a nearby table for cover. Amidst the chaos, the RA-7 protocol droid is caught in the crossfire and falls to the ground, incapacitated.

Taking cover behind various pillars, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef cautiously assess the situation. Through the shattered windows of the cantina, a line of death troopers becomes visible, their ominous presence sending a chill down your spine. As if that weren't enough, an Imperial Troop Transport rolls onto the scene, unloading a squad of stormtroopers, further escalating the situation.

"Four stormtroopers?" Cara scoffs, her expression darkening. "This is bad."

The Mandalorian quickly contacts Kuiil via comlink, his voice urgent. "Kuiil? Are you back at the ship yet?" After a tense moment of silence, he presses, "Are you there? Do you copy?"

"Yes!" Kuiil's voice crackles through the comlink.

Din wastes no time. "Are you back at the ship yet?"

"Not yet," Kuiil replies.

"Get back to the ship and get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!" Din's command is sharp and resolute.

The roar of engines interrupts the chaos, drawing your attention outside. An Outland TIE fighter swoops into view, its retractable solar collectors gleaming in the sunlight. The Imperial officer emerges from the cockpit, clad in full black attire, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. His voice carries over the commotion as he declares, "You have something I want."

"Who's this guy?" Cara asks, her confusion evident.

"You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not," the officer asserts ominously.

"Kuiil, are you back at the ship yet? They're onto us!" Din urgently tries to reach Kuiil through the comlink.

No response.

Din attempts again, growing increasingly desperate. "Kuiil, come in!"

Still, there's silence.

"In a few moments, it will be mine," the officer threatens, his tone dripping with menace.

"Kuiil! Do you copy? Kuiil!" Din's voice echoes with urgency.

"It means more to me than you will ever know," the officer adds, his words sending a chill down your spine.

"Kuiil! Are you there? Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil, come in," Din pleads desperately.

"Kuiil? Are you there? Do you copy? Kuiil? Kuiil!"

TAGLIST: @wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @mxltifxnd0m @syviiss @luckyzipperscissorsbat @avengersheart @dins-riduur-anthe @lizlil @n7cje @scoliobean @ofmusesandsecrets

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡His Greatest Strength｡⋆.

Kylo Ren x plus size reader

His Choice Masterlist

He would always be hers and she would always be his, now he just has to get rid of the one thing keeping them apart

Chapter Warnings: smut, size kink, d/s dynamics, death, nudity, kylo is still a bad guy but we love him, murder, slight somnophilia, possessive!Kylo

WC: 1.9k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Something deep within her had shifted, an inherent change so subtle it was hard to notice at first but when Y/N looked back on who she was a mere 2 months ago, it was jarring. While physically, she was much the same, save for the still healing cuts on her back and her sky-high libido, she was, mentally, a completely different person. 

She had a voice and a powerful one at that. She was treated with a respect that she couldn’t even dream of when she was still in the hutt’s clutches. She was confident and most importantly, she was safe. 

“Come back to bed.” Her safety glanced up at her from where he was hunched over at his desk. His face reflected the dim blue light of the holopad in front of him, illuminating the smallest details of his face perfectly. His brown eyes flicked down to where the black silk sheets had fallen to her lap, exposing her naked tits. He groaned and forced his gaze back to his work.

“Stop that, you’re distracting me.” She smirked in response, moving to sit up on her knees, the sheets pooling below her exposing the entirety of her naked body to the large man.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m being a good girl for you master.” She purred, making him moan. Her smile widened when his shoulders fell, knowing that she had won. 

So much had changed between them as well. While outside of their rooms, Kylo treated her as he did before, just as a slave albeit with far more gentleness than any other in her position would have received but a slave none-the-less. But within the safety of the massive bed chamber, she was his queen. He spent every second he could showing her just how much he adored her.

He still had his secrets, as did she, but he was open with her. He did not let his frustration and anger rule his hand when he was with her- he could not risk harming her again like he did before. In those moments, she took control, pulling his frustration out of him with the warmth of her cunt.

“You are being a brat. I fucked you less than an hour ago.” He pointed out but still turned off the pad and stood from his desk. Her gaze fell to his own chest which was marked up by various hickies and scratches from her nails. “Lay back then, I’ll fuck that attitude out of you.”

She squealed with delight as he pushed her back against the mattress, his lips connecting to her neck once more.

——————

Kylo slipped from their bed as quietly as he could so as to not wake her. Y/N muttered in her sleep, her brow furrowing with the lack of his warmth next to her but she was soothed with a soft kiss to her head and the covers pulled back up to her shoulders. 

He left their chambers without even glancing at where his helmet rested, he wouldn’t need it for this. 

The Imperial Guards gave no indication of their surprise over the sith’s sudden appearance as he approached the Supreme Leader’s temporary chambers. They simply moved aside, allowing him entrance with no question as to why he was there.

“Kylo Ren.” Snoke’s voice grated on his ears but he continued into the rooms until coming face-to-face with his master. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” He came to a stop right before the throne-like bed, his expression neutral.

“It’s about Y/N.” The older sith scoffed and looked away from his pupil, quite obviously displeased with the subject of their conversation. His pockmarked waved him off but Kylo would not budge, not on this. “You told me she ran. That your agents watched her leave willingly with the rebels.”

“She did. I would not lie to you about this, my boy. She saw her opportunity to leave you and she did, what pleasure slave would do differently?” Kylo’s resolve did not waver for a moment.

“She told me that she was taken by them.” Snoke’s jaw clenched and his eyes grew dark with anger.

Kylo was playing with fire, but this time he would not flinch away. He would let the flames wash over him because he knew that he would not be hurt. “What exactly are you accusing me of, boy?” He hissed, his voice dripping with venom.

From inside his cloak, Kylo pulled out the holopad he had been studying earlier. The screen displayed a video that he had retrieved from the ship’s database. Someone had tried to erase it but with some difficulty and a few rounds of ‘convincing’ he had gotten it back. It showed the rebel ship entering a completely empty hangar on the Star Destroyer where there were, conveniently, no troopers around to stop them. It soon cut to the outside of his chambers, the angle of the camera was just sharp enough to reveal Y/N laying on the bed, half-naked and covered in blood. But more importantly, it showed the small group of rebels injecting some unknown substance into her neck and then hauling her away.

“I know that the shields were activated and all docking bays were monitored by at least 10 troopers. I made the order myself. So how exactly did these half-dead rebels gain access to not only the Destroyer but also my chambers.” He knew the answer already, an interrogation of a select few admirals had taken care of that, but he wanted the truth from his master before he did anything else.

Smoke snapped, rage quickly filling the room as Kylo felt the force around him ripple with it. “I have heard enough of this! She was a reward for your good behaviour and rewards can be easily taken away! She has become a distraction from your mission and I won’t tolerate it any longer. She dies tonight!”

Before he could summon his guard or even make a move from the bed, Snoke went silent. In the middle of his tirade, Kylo had pulled his cloak back away from his hip, taking a hold of his lightsaber. And right as the sith had made the declaration that Y/N would die, the blade had been ignited. With no hesitation, he threw the weapon at his master.

He watched in slow motion as the red light sliced through the air, the broken crystal causing it to crackle ominously before it finally connected with Snoke’s torso, just as easily slicing through him as it did the air. It embedded itself in the far wall behind him before falling to the ground and turning off.

Snoke’s eyes were wide with shock and pain. “She is mine.” Kylo snarled as the other man’s force signature waned and then faded away as his body fell apart. 

The now lone sith raised his hand, flexing his fingers and his blade flew back to him. He calmly tucked it back into his belt, just as the Imperial Guards rushed in, their own weapons activated, prepared to defend their master. 

He turned to them and with an unbothered voice said, “Clean this up and inform the fleet, there’s been a change in command.” And then he left.

——————

Y/N moaned as pleasure curled in her gut, rousing her from a very pleasant dream. “Mmmm Kylo.” She reached for her lover, eager to have her dream become a reality but instead she was met with a cold pillow and empty sheets.

When she began to sit up, a sudden force pushed her back down as a voice spoke up from between her legs. “Stay still.” Her eyes flicked down and in the darkness of the room, she could just make out the massive body of her lover nestled between her thighs, his face buried in her centre.

She smiled and relaxed, her hands travelling down to his hair. He gave an approving nip to her sensitive inner thigh before returning to the task at hand. He sucked her clit into his mouth as he slipped two fingers into her cunt. 

“Oh!” She moaned, her hips bucking up to meet his onslaught. “Thought you-fuck- were done for the night.” His fingers curled up, shutting her up immediately.

“Let’s just say I was… reinvigorated.” He said against her cunt, the vibrations of his words on her bundle of nerves, sending a shock of pleasure through her.

“I’m not complaining but I really need you inside me right now.” She clutched at his shoulders in an attempt to pull him up to her. Kylo ignored her for the moment, continuing to play with her until she whined and tugged at his hair. “Please master.” She begged and he finally conceded.

He crawled up her body, kissing her heated skin along the way. As he reached her tits, he briefly stopped, giving both nipples a quick suck before moving on. “Hi there.” She cooed as he finally lay on top of her.

He gave her a crooked smile. “Hi.” He responded and then finally kissed her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him close as the kiss quickly heated. With practised ease, their tongues tangled together and she could taste herself on his lips. The air around them began to heat up as their need for each other became overwhelming.

Reaching between their bodies, Kylo took his cock in hand and lined himself up with her core. Y/N whined into his mouth as he gently pushed into her, slowly enough that she could adjust to his size but quickly enough that both of them were sated for the moment. 

As he finally buried himself within her, she winced, her already bruised cunt oversensitive from his attention. But the pain only added to the warm haze she was quickly falling into. When she relaxed below him, Kylo finally began to move.

At first, he slowly rolled his hips, teasing them both with the gentle pace but as soon as the whines began to slip from her lips, he became more aggressive, his eyes flashing with emotions she had never seen before.

“No one will touch you, you’ll always be by my side.” Her moans echoed through his ears like the most beautiful of symphonies, both grounding him and sending him into a fog of pure pleasure. “You will be mine forever.” His thrusts were deep and all-consuming. “You will be my empress, rule beside me as I reshape the Order to be everything I have ever wanted.”

“I am your only, and you are mine.” Her nails dug into his back, making him hiss. His cock bashed against that soft spot inside of her and she screamed.

“My stars, my pet, my goddess, my queen.” He punctuated each praise with a devastating thrust, punching into her cunt with so much force that she was shoved up the mattress with her only anchor being the man above her.

“You’re fucking mine!” He howled and she came with a silent sob before she went totally limp beneath him, the pleasure causing her to black out. Kylo followed quickly after, forcing his cock as deep as it could go as his own end smashed into him.

He carefully withdrew from her, internally wincing at the state that he had left her in. He wrapped her up in his arms and pulled the covers over them both as he waited for her to regain her senses.

Everything was going to change, he would make sure of that and she would be by his side the entire time- his drug, his weakness, his everything.

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His Choice

@the-queen-of-sorrows

[hastalavistabyebye]

Curse

Ao3 version

Because of the nature of their specialty and habitual deployments, the marines didn't often face the various Siths acolytes running around across the Galaxy. In fact, stumbling over an old abandoned Sith Temple on an uninhabited planet was usually the worse they would get. Still, those remains hid many traps and dangers that they couldn't allow themselves to underestimate. 

All the same, Ponds thought that they were always better than getting tortured, stabbed and/or generally maimed by crazy maniacs with laser swords. When meeting one of them didn't give the occasion for even crazier little brothers to round-kick and dogpile living and thinking chunks of metal. Yes, he reasoned while observing from where he was sprawled on General Mace’s couch, this was a much better situation. 

On the back of the couch, a tooka with white fur sporadically dotted in ginger was grumpily prowling toward him. 

Ponds looked back patiently. 

The tooka mreowed even more grumpily at him. 

Ponds tried very hard not to smile. Even if it was insanely difficult. He rarely ever saw his companion as openly expressive as right now. 

The animal growled low in his throat. Not a threat, just a knowing warning. 

Ponds relented with a small sight and put his comm back down. The tooka relaxed slightly from the defensive and ready-to-jump-away-and-hide crouch he had taken. 

“You know,” Ponds started while weaving absently his comm from side to side with one hand, “they were actually asking if you’ll be my next training subject for my wildlife photographs. I guess it won't be the case, huh ?”

He raised an amused eyebrow to his companion who answered it with a new threatful mreow. The animal still slid closer and jumped gracefully right on Ponds’ stomach, in retaliation to the small mirthful smirk that stretched the Commander’s lips. He groaned from the sudden assault but still accepted his treatment fairly. 

“The Generals will find a way to speed the end of that curse further, you know they will.” Ponds murmured in the soft white fur, placing a soft smooch on top of the fluffy little head. “Don't worry, ner Kara, you won't stay like that for much longer.”

Bacara purred at him quietly, settling down on his partner’s chest, paws nestled under him and tail neatly wrapped around his new small body. He nuzzled a bit at Ponds’ jaw, offering his own comfort, then looked back at Ponds’ comm, ears twitching tellingly. 

“None of them said it of course, but they've all been worried about you.” His partner answered before teasing him a bit more. “You really sure that sending them a holo in reassurance is out of the question ?”

Bacara tellingly baped his tail around a few times as sole answer, pulling a light chuckle out of the other Commander. 

They both settled down after that. They didn't have much more to do, outside of waiting that damned sith curse to wear down and read the messages of their batchers being their usual chaotic selves on the groupchat. 

For once, there was no emergency, no fire to take down, just the two of them, peacefully soaking the other’s oh so rare presence. Ponds lightly scratch between the purring Tookara’s ears, the white and red little body warmly nestled against him. He would have preferred a full-size Bacara of course, but it won’t take much longer anymore either. 

Under the warm sunlight filtering from the window, berced by the muffled sounds of Coruscant's constant traffic and the murmurs of their own breaths, the two Commanders quickly fell asleep on that couch, one in the arms of the other. 

Someone said cat!Bacara ? Here's cat!Bacara right away !! (diligently inspired by @/veny-many's cat! Bacara puddle animation)

The other ficlets of this universe can be find on the #pondscara cinematic universe tag as always.