#im so sorry i dropped off the face of the planet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tremendum · 2 years ago

Note

heyy, can you write din djarin x reader where she's smth like a princess and he's hired as her bodyguard by her father or brother whatever you want (I know this is basic plot but can't help it 😭) tysm❤️🥰

i got u babes! its cute ive never written something like this but i hope u like it!! <3 its fluffier than anything ive really written to tysm for the request! also this is NOT PROOF READ im sorry

after midnight

(gif not mine!) pairing: din djarin x fem!reader (afab, use of terms like princess/duchess/daughter) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 6.2k summary: “you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it.” warnings: mentions of political unrest/uprisings, reader resents their parents/family because monarchy is BAD folks, threats of death, but smut (PiV, unprotected), mutual masturbation (m&f), teasing, light themes of possession at one point, mentions of eating. cumplay/creampie. i think that's it.

★

YOU are no stranger to fear.

it's been a gently lived life for you, in your several decades orbiting the power of your parents' suns.

the duchess of your family's system, the 'Prize Jewel' your mother loves to say; the one who got the love of the people but sought none of the power.

you weren't the heir, not to the throne: that duty fell unto your younger brother, as per custom tradition. so you were coaxed into a life of sitting around, humming as your ladies in waiting braided your strands, staring longingly as your brother wielded blasters and vibro-blades; as if that is what constituted a good ruler.

so perhaps the fear you've grown accustomed to is the fear of the mirrors that so delicately lined your chambers; the mirror that appears on your own face as any noble speaks to you, as your father commanded you to embark on diplomatic missions that should be left to those who have any stake in the future of the system. the mirror which constricts any true personality or truth from presenting you to the galaxy. you were the duchess, your parents' daughter; you were not yourself.

you'd never gone off world, to either of the other planets in the crown's domain - until the day you did.

that kind of fear was different.

the tumultuous tracks of your heartbeat when that creaking drop ramp was sealed, those days ago; the footsteps that rang out like funeral chimes as the tall Mandalorian bowed his head to you before escorting you upwards into the cockpit of the ship that was to take you to the other side of the system.

you were not, though, afraid of him.

Mando had been your shadow for several months before you left on your enterprise - you were no longer frightened by the cold, sharp angles of his body, the dark rumbling of his scarce voice. now, that same low hum as he listens to you is welcomed. encouraged. sought for.

no, the fear was from something else; there was a scratching, a slow but insistent simmering that tightened the muscles of your lower back and your upper neck until you woke up in sharp gasps of discomfort.

maybe the fear was in the winding hills that turned into mountains, jagging up and into the sky; your fear clung to you even as you lifted your legs and climbed over top of them - those towers to the sky - and settled yourself with the acknowledge that your parents had sent you on this diplomatic embarkment to a hostile insurgence group with nothing more than the Mandalorian bodyguard and a datapad containing an ultimatum which was surely the fuse to the ticking bomb of your family's dominating sovereignty. the crashing of a scepter, or the squashing of a bug.

thankfully your father, in all of his Majesty's grace and wisdom, had offered you a full set of your Ladies of the Household on your journey - as if they'd protect you from blaster fire, or kidnapping, or whatever joys may have lied in wait for you once you reached the rebel territory.

and he knows you are highly mistrusting of those parasitic Mynocks he calls the Kingsguard; that was in fact the sole reason he'd hired the Mandalorian to be your personal guard.

so your father at least had the sense not to call upon the lord commander to escort you, as it would be likely you'd either be dead come nightfall or your cot would be empty come morning rise.

so he'd insisted on only the Mandalorian instead.

a fiercely dauntless man, a walking shield, as clever as he is dangerous.

after seeing him fight, there was no doubt Mando could protect you from hundreds if he needed to.

there was a stint by another insurgent rebel group, of which your family was battling many currently; they'd made threats on your life, so Mando has shown up with a personal arsenal and enough intimidation to make any man fall to his knees.

it took all of thirty seconds of staring at his figure, hearing his voice, to decide you'd fall to your knees for him, too.

and just before you were ordered to visit the duke of the defecting planet, you were informed he would be replacing the four kingsguard subordinated to Mando who usually escorted you around the kingdom.

one man instead of five? you were sure the King was finally sending you to your death, punishing you for his lifelong regret that you'd not been a son.

but you soon came to like Mando and his stoic, taciturn presence.

and at least your instructions were simply to deliver the ultimatum and leave the atmosphere within the hour; the insurgent's strategists would not, as your father and his Hand had believed, have enough time to read through the full terms before deciding they should just break into the duchess's chambers and slit her throat anyways.

you escaped the planet with nothing but a blaster shot grazing Mando's side and the hate of an entire species of oppressed constituents hurling insults at the Crown.

no slit throat for you - but in the end, you wouldn't even blame them if they'd tried.

you know, now, that your fear clouded your eyes, as bright as they may have been back when Mando was hired as your bodyguard. but they grew thick, the clouds lifting into the stratosphere and slipping into Mando's helmet with the modulated, quiet inhales you've come to know almost as your own. you don't think he ever intended to frighten you.

he was there to protect you. and he has.

he has not left you since arriving to the midway planet, where you'll stay for a few days before returning back to your kingdom planet.

here, there is fresh air, the salt of the sea, deep ripe fruits, and warm breezes. there is no fear here, only heat.

Mando helps with that, though he won't let you admit it.

as you stare at that unwavering gaze, surrounded by the gilded intricacies of the farewell feast, all you can do is imagine him. Mando, his body on yours, that cold, heavy metal against the thrill of your heated bare skin. he tilts his head slightly at you; you wink at him over your cup of wine. the man next to you makes conversation about your father's latest agriculture subsidies.

you look back to find the relaxing - bone chilling- gaze on you still. you wonder if he'll crack before you do.

there have been close calls; once, when you'd drank a bit too much ale in the city square and Mando had carried you back to the keep, tucked you into bed as you tried to pull him in with you - you should stay, Mando - the time he'd agreed to teach you to spar and you'd ended up wide-eyed and pinned beneath his very sturdy frame.

you've seen the pressure on his flightsuit beneath those layers when you'd teased him - his own admission of guilt, that he feels something for you, too.

when you'd asked him to help you shoot a blaster, when you'd left the fresher open to shower, or not particularly covering up when you prepared yourself for the day. though he was always there, always at attention for the slightest danger.

even last night, you felt the stuttering in his breaths when you'd sat on your bed, staring down at him - his hand in the nook of your knee, the other unlacing your sandals that'd crawled up your supple calves the entire day. you'd felt his leather hands brush against the soft skin of your thigh, the way that helmet had stared up at you from between your legs. at your service.

you know he could see the way you jolted when he'd place his hands on your hips in passing, or how you'd get particularly flustered at the flip of a blaster trigger, the flex of a muscle under a flightsuit. you didn't try to hide your attraction to him.

but all of those things; those moments you had - even the subtle brushes of his hand just low enough on your lower back, the smiles you'd share even with the barrier of his cold beskar, the soft conversations you'd hold just between the two of you: all, under the soft shadows of the moons which orbit you.

never in the broad daylight.

those souvenirs, the ones which you held close to your heart in the last few weeks, high up in the pews of your heart's cathedral; all idolized yet forgotten with the mornings that rise in clean beskar glinting and sleep rubbing from your eyes.

DIN is sure you're looking straight through him.

those eyes; you're coy the way you look at him now, over the meal you eat at the table.

swirling with mischief.

that trouble-making look, the one he's studied for months as your personal guard. to the constituents of your family's crown, you were the sweet, young girl destined to marry away and sire many noble children. but behind palace doors, you were alive, you were a bolt of electricity that was never to be tamped down.

Din remembers how fiery you'd been when the King had ordered Mando to escort you to the insurgents with your Ladies of the House. you'd requested they not accompany you in this formidable expedition because, as he recalls you'd said, 'how can my bodyguard spare to protect not me but also ten others? shall we just get it over with and behead us all right here?'

he'd smiled behind that helmet when the King and Queen had heard your snippy tongue.

and so it was just you and him, as it'd been for months. and he likes it that way, as much as he would never admit that; you're a kind woman, much too old to be under the reigns of your parent's power but too caught in the web of bureaucracy to untangle yourself from it.

Din sees you tilt your head at him, blatantly ignoring the conversation at the table. heat courses through him at your adamant, keen attention on him despite him likely being the least worthy of your thoughts in this room. still, as always, you tease him.

a drop of a wink; syrupy, sweet, and much too indecent for the public space; much less for you to deliver towards your personal guard. he burns red under the helmet, heat rushing down towards his groin at the way your lips move around the spoon in your mouth.

you know he's watching you, of course; he's always watching you. it's in the job description.

maybe that's the problem: he watches too much. it's always been hard for him to remain simply professional with you, but it's been much more challenging the last few nights as he's tried to get a few hours of shut-eye in the dead of night; with your sweet soft breaths on that large, plush bed that nearly swallows you whole.

it's been excruciating - watching, as you run your hands over your bare legs, kissed by a sweet silk nightgown. massaging your plush skin, slipping just above the hem before dipping down - your lashes fluttering up at him as he stands tall and at attention over you.

he was a dead man, and he'd known it the moment he laid eyes on you.

you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it.

he wonders if the true tragedy after all was his not watching: although you'd left the crack in the door when you'd stepped into the fresher last night, toweling off your soft skin as steam curls round the doorframe and pulls at him like the tentacles of some lust-ridden beast. you'd given him one of those coy smiles last night as you'd slinked out of the fresher: "thought you said you were always watching, Mando."

you had him wrapped around your dainty, manicured finger and you knew it.

your brows raise at him as you look back up to where he stands, just on the other side of the table, as the diplomats around you at the table buttering you up with a glass of wine, a divine feast, and fancy political phrases.

it doesn't suit you, as you've claimed to him countless times as you strip the bangled gold from your neck, ears, fingers, thighs and slip into something a little more comfortable and a lot less modest. it doesn't really suit you, he guesses. he likes you much more in the throes of your casual time; wearing trousers and a tunic, blaster strapped to your thigh though you don't quite know how to wield it. when you have no handmaidens to primp you and pluck you, to comb their fingers through your hair or paint fancy colors onto your eyelids. you were heavenly like that, in your most comfortable state.

that word; heavenly. the word sounds adolescent, when he looks at you.

you transcend beauty; you're alive, you're nothing but yourself, a woman with life and regret that her world bore her name long before she was born. you told him, as he escorted you through the war-torn scrappings of the insurgent city the day before, that you wished to be free from the chains of royalty. to the royal court, you were nothing but a mirror for them to project their desires.

when you look up at him with those tempting eyes, smirking at him when nobody at the table is looking - Maker, Din swears he will throw away everything he's worked so hard to keep professional.

YOU had pulled the best of the feast onto your napkin once you bid the hosts thanks for the feast, hiding it under the layers of your gown as Mando walked you back to your chambers.

"I kept you some." you offer meekly now, heat painting your face as you offer the spread to him, having taken off your shoes yourself this time. he'd kept his sight on you the whole time, the visor of his beskar piercing you with each movement.

his helmet tilts in question; you spread open the napkin to reveal the small feast of delicacies you'd packed for him. you wonder how he'd missed it, when his eyes were always on you.

"you shouldn't have." he's demure in tone, shifting from his casual position leaning against one of the stone pillars near the intricate dressing screen to standing evenly on both long legs; you smile gently, heart fluttering.

"I thought you deserved some of the feast." you reason, "you did more work than I did, after all." you grin, shrugging a shoulder. you feel the fabric slide over your bare shoulder and it brushes against you like a feather; a ghost of lips that could never be blessed upon your skin.

cursed to always lie in weight under the heavy support of beskar.

but his fingers; they're a different story.

they're gentle, tingling as they brush up the expanse of your deltoid, cascading with a buttery kind touch to return your dress to its rightful place. his hand, swallowed by the leather that protects you so devotedly, trails down your arms, soothing every goosebump that rises in its path. your hand catches his wrist before he can pull away; the tantalizing, intoxicating air in the room rendering him languid as you pull, gently, until your lips press gently to the tip of his thumb.

his breath falters in a staccato as you gently, tenderly press kisses to the tips of each finger; each, a promise. an unnamed affection for the man who does nothing but protect, nothing but exhilarate. the movement feels like the stretch of a plastic band, stretching the tensile strength of your aptitude for waiting, for restraining yourselves.

you wait with baited breath for it to snap in your faces.

it doesn't, though. his hand falls away gently, leaving you to still orbit around each other like lonely stars, crossing paths every few blue moons.

when he speaks, he sounds almost strained. "thank you, ner cyar'ika. you are kind."

your cheeks are warm and they heat up more when you smile up at him. and this time when you step away into the fresher, you make sure the door is fully closed.

the water is warm, curling tendrils of milky sweet oils that bathe your skin in a sweet, plush aroma. you return to the main room slowly after you bathe, ensuring he'll have enough time to return his helmet to its proper place before you see. you wring your hair out with your hands as Mando rises from where he sat on the loveseat; his full height shining that reflective metal against you. your warped, clean, scrubbed reflection stares back at you.

he.... he sees you.

you've always noticed it; maybe that's why you'd commanded your father's men to leave you at the first sight of the Mandalorian's skills - you see a lot of yourself in him. a life concealed behind the preceding reputation: a princess - young, beautiful, generous, stagnant. a Mandalorian - bounty-hunter-turned-guard, sturdy, resourceful, rough.

mirrors follow you no matter where you go. they've been thrust upon you your entire life, every snaking hallway of the kingdom winding down reflective images of your youth, bouncing you from person to person, nothing but a blank canvas for the aristocracy to paint their whims upon.

you suspect, as you stare at Mando's unwaveringly reflective armor, that he understands that more than either of you could know. your heart soars with affection as you pad up to him, craning your neck to take in his entire height.

"did you enjoy it?" you ask with a small smile, combing your fingers through your wet hair. he nods, "yes, cyare. thank you."

you shake your head, unburdened by the gesture of gratitude. "let me guess- your favorite was the..." you pinch your chin with your fingers, scrunching your nose as you pretend to think. "chocolate cake." you say finally, tilting your head as you try to gage his reaction.

a tilt of a helmet, flickering in the candlelight of your chambers. "yes." he sounds surprised; as if you didn't know just as much about him as he knew of himself. it sparks butterflies in your stomach.

"I know you like it sweet, Mando." you tease, sending him a soft wink as you set your face cloth down on the table he leans against; you stare up at him from this angle, your movements molasses as you smile, hand sneaking around his ribs to hold him lightly. his hand rises tentatively to steady your waist, thumb rubbing the satin of your nightgown. "don't worry, I do too." you whisper.

he sighs.

it's a soft, gentle thing; one that nobody would dare imagine your big, bad Mandalorian protector to ever release. but you know him. you see him - Mando is many things, and one of them is hesitant. not unwilling, or shy: hesitant.

(you'd wait a thousand lifetimes for him.)

"cyar'ika," he starts, tone slipping into that gently warning one - the kind he gets when he's feeling bashful. "I don't like it when you tease me." he chides, and it's - kriff, it's playful. you can almost see the grin behind that helmet; his fingers pinch at your sides gently and you screech with laughter, swatting away his touch but hoping he'll soon return it, much like a magnet.

"you do, though." you defend, emboldened by the privacy and the budding tenderness that coaxes you into his arms. his hands soothe over your hips as you stare in silence.

warmth surrounds you; coaxes you to mutter it-

"stay with me, tonight?" you whisper, eyes wide at your own words, shocked you'd finally given in to all of the hunger that has swirled between you for all this time. his helmet tilts. "I am always here with you. my job is to watch you." he says gently, the lilt of guilt ever present in his voice.

you shake your head, eyes shutting in frustration - not at him, never - at who, then? your father? your mother? the last name you've been cursed with for your life? the privilege, the restraint?

"Mando." you say, pressing your palms flat against his chest. "you know what I mean." your eyes swirl with emotion: please, Mando, I can't keep waiting like this.

he waits. "it would be wrong."

you tilt your head, "it wouldn't." but you, much like him, are at a loss for words. a life of inoculation has rendered you unable to express any semblance of amorous emotions, even to this man - the one who is your confidant, your protector, and possibly your only true friend in this world. "I need you. I will-" you swallow, your heart thundering with desire, "I will do anything for you, Mando."

you can't resist the growing wetness in the apex of your thighs as his helmet moves over your figure, wrapped in a silky robe and still wet from bathing. he hums lowly, a long and slow sound, his head tilting ever so slightly as you clench your thighs in search of relief from the growing pressure.

"I have wanted you since I met you." he sighs, hands falling from your shoulders. "but... I shouldn't touch you."

DIN can see your eyes flicker down as he says it.

maker damn you; you've always been too clever for him. he sees the hunger swirl in your blown out pupils, the same hunger that plagues his mind and has sent blood rushing downwards. he feels himself throb as you grin up at him, lashes fluttering as a droplet of silky water trails down the expanse of your bare, awaiting neck.

you know him, you see him. and he thanks all of the stars that you know how badly he needs you, too.

"well, if you can't touch..." you tilt your head to stare up at him through your lashes, loosening the robe which covers your silk nightgown; each inch that slips down your body, Din feels himself stiffen and heat with desire. "...you can at least watch." you whisper, letting the robe drop before you step back from his figure; his eyes trace over every curve, each smooth line and jagged bump.

when you're far enough away, he lets out a shaky breath. "gar Kelir ruin ni, dala" he mutters to himself, swallowing thickly as your figure slinks away from him, traipsing onto your plush bed.

his heart thunders in his chest; you lie on your back, gently, eyes meeting his somehow through the shield of beskar as you move your hands slowly, slowly up your legs. silk catches on your deft fingers as you tease yourself, sighing in relaxation.

Din, standing rigid as a pole as he watches you, cannot look away. you seem flushed, even as your fingers trail over your breasts, toying with the pert nipples which poke through the smooth fabric of your dress. a whimper; high-pitched, breathy as your eyes splinter to Din again. "fuck," you whisper, one hand dragging down to torturously drag the hem of your gown upwards, up, up-

he's salivating.

your thighs, plush and welcoming, spread as you spread your glistening cunt for Din to see. for him, he realizes, only for him. a dark wash of possession shudders his whole being as you let out a whimper, the cool air hitting your wet, hot heat as your fingers start to spread your juices; it takes every ounce of restraint from Din to not just pounce on you, take you right now.

your finger finds your swelling clit and your strangled groan sounds too much like his name - your eyes are hooded, littered with desire and pleasure as you lie out on display for him.

he can't help but watch; his cheeks, hot. his hands, clenched - his heart, thundering, beating hard as Din watches you touch yourself with hungry eyes. your moans are smooth, melodic to his ears as you slowly dip one finger into your heat, whimpering as the stretch as your greedy little hole swallows you up.

he can't stand it.

Din takes a step forward, a staggering, desperate step towards the bed- your eyes snap up from where they'd watched you take your own fingers, eyes blown wide. you whimper, you goddamn whimper it, "M-Mando."

YOU almost pass out when he mutters it, low and baritone.

"take it off." Mando mutters darkly.

you stop your languid pumps as you stare up at him, eyes wide as you see him, now looming just over you, eyes trained still on your heat.

slowly, you sit to peel the dress off of yourself, the material catching on your nipples and sending a shiver down your body.

you're soon bare; laid out for him, your entire body on display for him as you stare up, chest heaving with desire. his helmet does not leave your form as he watches your hand snake back down, toying with your wetness as it pools out of you, dripping onto the mattress below you.

there are thousands of things you wish to say; nothing escapes you except whimpers and moans, the muted, heated pleasure swirling through you as you slip your fingers into yourself, pumping languidly. if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine the bite of cold beskar on your bare chest; the thickness of a warm cock slipping through you.

your eyes stay on him instead, though; the reflection of your squirming, pleasured body on his beskar. you feel sweat sheen your forehead.

your heart nearly stops as Mando slowly starts to palm himself; his cock, hard and strained against the fabric of his flightsuit as his hands pull himself out of the pants. your eyes widen and your fingers start to pump into you quicker, moaning out Mando's name as his hand slowly starts to pump himself.

his cock, skin golden and veins prominent as he pleasures himself to the sight of you. arousal floods around your fingers as your other finger falls to lazily toy with your neglected clit. one hand grasps your breast and pinches a pert nipple, your back arching as you whimper.

you need Mando, you need him.

"fuck, fuckfuckfuck M-Mando, I need you. i-it's not enough, need more." you groan, the dam breaking as the low high you've been riding simmers.

he stops his own movements, his chest heaving beneath the beskar.

"I don't-" you swallow around your dry throat, "I don't think I can cum without you." you admit, heart thundering as you stare up at the beskar wall. "please."

he pauses and your words hand in the air; suspended by a string, one that is tight and ready to snap.

"stand up, princess." he orders.

DIN almost smiles at the speed at which you scramble on eager legs, to stand up, staring up at him with wanton need. he takes a deep breath before one hand reaches out to graze the swell of your breast; the plush give of soft skin, the goosebumps that trail behind his touch. his cock twitches as your hands find him, pumping slowly as you bite your lip.

he groans at the soft feeling of your gentle hands around his thickness; your lips grazing over his beskar chestplate.

his hands tug you as he falls to the mattress; a squeal leaves you as your hands grip onto his shoulders, "Mando!"

he grins beneath the helmet.

the smile slowly fades into a grunt of pleasure as you eagerly find your place straddling his hips; your wet hot cunt envelopes his cock with your slick, rubbing him as you whimper. "fuck, cyar'ika." he grunts. "gonna fuck you nice and good. promise." he mutters.

you smile as you nod, "maker, Mando. I've-I've dreamt of this." you mutter. he smirks- he knows you have. he's heard it.

but the pride is soon washed away with shock and pleasure as you line his head up at your entrance, easing onto him gently; his hands squeeze your bare skin and he wishes he could pull his gloves off and really feel you.

dank ferrik, you are so tight around him; swallowing his thickness in your greedy cunt as your breath stutters, gasping at the stretch. you're hot, wet, and Din's eyes shut tight at the feeling. kriff, he won't last long.

you take him gently, slowly, and all Din can do is breathe through it and resist his hips from bucking upwards and spearing you into two.

his brain is a puddle as you fully sheath yourself on him, thighs plush and shaking as you swallow him.

"that's good." he mutters, breath shaky, his hands guiding you to move against his hips, "how does it feel, princess?"

"Mando, fuck, y'so big, filling me-" you're moaning and he thinks he may pass out; heavenly, heavenly, you you you-

you groan as you start to fuck yourself on top of him, your gummy warm walls coaxing Din towards his high, having been spurred along by the pleasure you'd been giving yourself earlier.

you shudder at the curling sensuality of his words and he can feel you gripping him tighter and tighter, pulsing around him and dragging him down with you into the depths of pleasure. shivers of pleasure coast down your entire body as Din starts to piston up, his thick length, smooth and hard, spearing into your hot cunt. your desire drips down and smothers the fabric of his flight suit; briefly, he thinks he will never wash them again. your breath is laborious as you near your high- Din chases his, too, because this has already gone on for too long and he's greedy, as greedy as your tight, pretty cunt is and-

he lets out a splintering moan when you cum with a scream; your legs quivering, weakening as you slump against him. Din fucks you through your high with a moan of his own, pushing up into your pulsing pussy, the wetness easing him to spear into you with a fire of ecstasy.

"good- you're so good, y'feel so good, Mando," you whimper. that's it for him - he cums with a long groan, release snapping through him with a moan of your name.

he sees colors, shapes of you in a meadow, spread on a blanket with him taking you from above; with you riding him in the cockpit of his ship; you, thighs spread on your father's throne while he delves his tongue through your plush folds.

you are his. you will always be his, nobody else's. he will consume you.

he fucks up into you as he rides through his high, his seed smearing your chanel as he holds you close. "fuck," he mutters, rolling you both onto your sides as his hand caresses your cheek.

"s'good." you mumble, smiling at him.

he smiles back. you can't see it, but he knows you can feel it.

"m'not done with you yet, princess." he promises, tugging you towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs to see his own seed leaking out of you, mixed with your own wet, sticky spend. it's a sight better than any he's ever seen; shivers of desire roll down Din's spine.

and then Din spends his time on top of you, pulling orgasm and orgasm from you until you're crying, shaking and heaving breaths; he's shaky, drunk from the pleasure of your wet arousal. he aches to taste you, to coax you to sleep with his tongue lapping up your spend; he needs to taste you.

perhaps, another time.

he soothes himself for now with his fingers, his cock; another time, he will taste you.

---

YOU are exhausted. you can barely stay awake; but as Mando lays with you between the sheets, you can't help but feel so alive. the sun starts to creep towards the horizon line, over the shimmering sea; the gentle breeze of the world flowing through the faint curtains.

"Mando?"

he cranes to look down at you, his thumb tracing over your spine.

"in the morning," you start, your hand trailing over his beskar. you figure it isn't comfortable to don this armor in the plush of your mattress; he stays no matter, willing to give you what you want. always, whatever you want. forever.

him.

you chew your lip, "will we- I mean, I just..."

a thumb, warm though marred with old leather, pulls your lower lip from the clutches of your pearled teeth, soothing over the plush, bitten skin. a shiver runs down your spine as he coaxes you to stare up into that endless helmet.

"what is it, mesh'la?" his voice is deep and soothing in its modulated baritone. you preen at the nickname in his native tongue and though he has willingly taught you words and phrases of his language, you are unsure of this one's translation. it sounds lovely coming from him.

"please don't take me back." you whisper.

he tenses under you; you can feel it. you wish you didn't have to plague him with your burdens of asking him such a crime; to take the duchess, the girl made of nothing but stardust, and give her the life she deserves.

a whisper of your name. quiet, an exhale gentle and barely picked up by the modulation function of the helmet.

DIN has been waiting for you to say it.

he wonders just about when he realized you were going to ask him to take you away. was it just now, after you'd finally connected in bliss? was it last night, when he'd taken a blaster shot to protect you - his job, of course, but a lifetime of debt to repay to him, you'd claimed - or, perhaps, was it all those months ago?

your words pull him from his shock as you mutter softly.

"would you take me with you? away?"

all the moments shared between your two souls wait with baited breath as Din tries to find his words through his thundering heart.

"in the morning..." he parrots your words from before, but with a different tone. regret. his heart thumps as you tilt your head, bare shoulder glinting in the light of the moons. "will you still want that? will you want..." he doesn't finish the question, but he doesn't have to. not with you. want me?

you look at him with eyes so soft he almost melts. "I've always dreamt of leaving my life. it's not who I am." you're firm in your words, hand curling over his shoulder as you blink, "I never thought I would act on it. I had nothing to do, nowhere else to go. but now..." you shrug and he starts to feel hot at the implications in your voice.

Din's heart thuds importunately under your sweet palm; could you feel it, under all the layers that separated his body from your bare one?

"if-if you'd have me... it'd be a dream to stay with you. wherever you go."

Din can't breathe; so many words burst to the forefront of his mind, but all he does is stare in awe.

you'd been watching life through the jail of your parent's grasp your whole life; and what is the princess of a mid-rim planet to the rest of the galaxy?

stardust.

"wasted dreams?" you ask softly, shaking your head, "that's worse than death, Mando."

YOU fall asleep with Mando's arms wrapped tightly around your middle; the weight of beskar pushing you deeper into the comfort of knowing you've spent your last night ever in this system.

his words echo in your head.

in the morning, mesh'la, we will leave here. wherever you'd like.

it's illicit; the things you're about to do, the traditions which will be seared. your eyes, bleary with exhaustion and hope, looks to the mirror across the room.

you lie in the arms of the Mandalorian, bare besides the plush sheets which wrap around your figures - and when you stare into the reflective piece of decor directly across, it's you who stares back in the reflection. you smile to yourself.

stardust.

those moments, you hope, will shine in broad daylight now in tandem with the sweet secrets after midnight.

taglist: @silkiers @toobsessedsstuff @millersdjarin @tizylish @cloufire @kalea-bane @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis @hello-th3r3 @bbyanarchist @ponyboys-sunsets

requests open. message for Din's taglist or Joel Miller's!

#din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader smut #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader smut #sw smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #tremendum’s space cowboy✒️

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iwritefandomimagines · 23 days ago

Text

DRIVING LESSONS — JESS MARIANO

based on a request

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: you should’ve known that asking jess to teach you to drive would be a mistake if you actually wanted to learn to drive.

warnings: swearing. other than that just flirty teasy jess mariano which is my fav thing.

author’s note: thanks for this request eeeek i love it so much im sorry it took so long to get out. i hope you enjoy! it’s pretty short but short n sweet !

———

“Y’know, I should be charging you for this.”

You rolled your eyes, hands firmly on the steering wheel as you turned briefly to shoot Jess a stern glare, “We only just got in the car, Mariano.”

“You’re right, I’d charge by the hour. We’ll see how you go,” he teased, before one-by-one explaining the mechanisms of the car that you needed to know to get started, “Think your pretty little brain can remember all that?”

You scoffed, “My pretty little brain can handle it just fine. Might wanna tone down the condescension, big guy.”

“I have been working out, I’m glad you’ve noticed,” he flexed his arms for a moment and licked his lips as you rolled your eyes, “Big, huh?”

With a shake of your head, you pressed your palms against the steering wheel almost exasperatedly, “Your ego is, yeah.”

Jess just smirked, lowering his arms and folding them across his chest.

He looked out at the empty parking lot surrounding you for a moment and then back across at you, “You’re cute when you’re pissed off with me.”

“Are you going to teach me to drive or just flirt with me, Jess?”

He quirked his eyebrow, “Men can multitask too you know? See, while you juggle learning to drive and glancing over to ogle at me, I can teach you to drive and make you blush.”

Before you could stop yourself you glanced up at the rear view mirror, catching sight of the fact that he wasn’t lying — your face was stained a deep crimson.

“Again, surprised you can fit in the car with the size of your ego,” you mumbled, eyes on the parking lot again as you avoided meeting his.

He laughed, “Or my big arms, huh?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most annoying person on the planet?” you huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as amusement continued to spread across his features.

He contorted his face into an expression of mock horror, “Me? Never! Most intelligent, sure. Most handsome, maybe. Annoying? Doesn’t ring a bell.”

You pulled the handbrake and switched off the engine completely now, hands still gripping the wheel as you shifted your body to look at him fully.

Your expression was challenging him.

You were getting absolutely nowhere, and the flustered feeling flitting through your body at every moment of this conversation wouldn’t help even if he was multitasking.

“Shall we just save the lessons for another day? I’ve had a long day anyway,” you frowned, heaving in a deep sigh as he shook his head dramatically.

His brows had raised to give off the look of an unimpressed school teacher, tutting as he crossed his arms, “Giving up so easily? My, my, Y/N, here I thought you were resilient.”

“I put up with you on a regular basis, Mariano, I’d say I’m pretty fuckin’ resilient alright,” you huffed, growing only more irritated by his ever present smirk, “I’m not driving another inch right now.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, leaning to open the car door and get out, which left you scowling.

You were so flustered you’d entirely forgotten that he’d driven you out to the empty parking lot you were currently sat in, and he was getting out to switch sides with you.

“I know you like me, babe, but I can’t sit on your lap to drive you home,” he teased as he rounded the front of the car, opening your door, “You gettin’ out or do you just wanna waste time so you can stay in my company?”

You scoffed, “Like you’re just going to drop me home. Fifty bucks says you drive us to the diner so you can loiter ‘round me all evening.”

“Fifty bucks, hey?”

“Oh get lost, Mariano.”

It was his turn to scoff now, “Like that’s what you want. You wish I’d loiter around you.”

You stepped out of the car with a shake of your head, your arm brushing against his as you slipped past to walk around to the passengers seat.

You tried to ignore the jolt of electricity in your veins at the contact, but you could tell that he’d noticed your briefly widened eyes.

The smirk on his face only grew.

“Home it is,” Jess feigned a sad sigh, “I’ll go piss Luke off and eat my body weight in fries all alone.”

“Who’s desperate for whose company now, huh?”

Jess shrugged, a teasing tight-lipped smile on his face, “Oh, still you. I’m just saving you from having to get all red faced and stuttery when you beg me to come inside when I drop you home.”

“You wish.”

“No, I know. But like I say, I’m a gentleman.”

You nudged his shoulder. “Oh sure. Such a gentleman you can’t even actually tell me you like me — which you so blatantly do — and choose good old fashioned teasing instead.”

He looked offended for a moment, turning to face you and leaning against the steering wheel with a pout, “Am I that transparent? No shit, Sherlock. It’s called flirting and as we’ve established it’s reciprocated.”

“Well at what point are you going to do something about it?”

Jess tutted, “At what point are you going to do something about it?”

You sat silently for a moment, completely still except for both of your eyes flitting between each other’s eyes and lips.

“Fine, I concede,” Jess raised his hands up in surrender, shaking his head, “But only because I think I might pass out if I don’t kiss you right now.”

You smirked, leaning forward for a moment, “Oh, don’t tempt me to reject you with a promise of temporary peace.”

“You wouldn’t dream of it,” he licked his lips, hand reaching up to curl around your chin, “Not when you feel the exact same, huh?”

You drew in a sharp breath, the touch of his hand pricking goosebumps on your skin.

Obviously he was right, and there was no way you could handle going even another second without kissing him.

You leaned into his touch, lips meeting his with the urgency of all of the pent up passion of just how long you’d been waiting to kiss him.

The console between you was a frustrating obstacle, but one you were both more than happy to deal with in this moment.

A few minutes of frantic kisses and sweet nothings later, you finally pulled back and Jess readied himself to start the car almost immediately, biting his lip to hide the smirk returning.

“No offence, Jess, but I think I should get a real teacher if I actually want to learn to drive,” you bit your lip, watching him laugh.

He shrugged, “No, I get it. Hopefully your next teacher isn’t so ruggedly and distractingly handsome so you can focus.”

“Ruggedly handsome?” you scoffed, “And it’s you who was distracted, sir. What was it you said… you might pass out if you didn’t kiss me?”

He huffed in surrender, “Aren’t you just lucky your dream guy is such a romantic poet?”

“Sure,” you snorted, “A pleasure to be your muse.”

He leaned over to kiss the corner of your lips once more, a small gesture that sent your stomach aflutter with butterflies.

It felt almost reassuring — like he was asserting that this wasn’t just him being a horny teenager wanting to make out with you, but that he had actual feelings.

“Back to your castle, princess?” he joked, immediately wondering whether he was pushing his luck even though he was teasknf, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. We’ll go to Luke’s.”

You hummed, shaking your head for a moment as he turned to narrow his eyes at you before pulling out of the lot.

“I’m not making out with your uncle watching, you perv,” you rolled your eyes with a small laugh, “Let’s go to my place.”

His grin widened again, his foot on the ignition and his eyes on the road immediately.

“Your wish is my command.”

———

thanks so much for reading! as always, please let me know what you think <3 i hope you enjoyed — and if you want to read more of my stuff, here’s my masterlist

#jess mariano #gilmore girls #jess mariano x reader #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls imagine #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano x you

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starlightazriel · 5 months ago

Text

bad boy az # 7 (fem reader)

warnings: 18+ , smut, luciens nickname is lucci (im freshly gardened leave me alone), lucien????? (you know what emoji im thinking about), 16/18 age gap, angsty asf, self loathing, az being az, underage alcohol and drug abuse, loneliness, heartbreak, pining, fluff (YUP)

a/n: im sorry lucien doesn't have a fake eye i don't have time to backstory why a high schooler lost his eye lol thank you for all the support i love you. also credit to @leyannrae for the lickback cus i was scared to do it but was inspired by the comment

other parts can be found on my azriel masterlist

wc: 4.3k

The particular situation I found myself in, definitely wasnt what I would have expected when I left my house this morning. I wasnt exactly complaining though. Maggie had informed me earlier today that I needed to 'get outside' needed to 'explore some other fish in the sea' and it was 'the perfect opportunity to do whatever I want because my parents were out of town for the week'. She had also added that Azriel 'wasnt the only hot guy that existed on planet earth'. I recalled wanting to argue that he was the hottest guy on earth.

I knew she was just worried about me though, I hadn't left my room in weeks besides school, so I didnt protest. I agreed to the double date with Maggie, Shane, and Shanes right hand man Lucci, yes Lucci, and yes it was pronounced like Gucci. Which Maggie had informed me was short for Lucien, but no one called him that, apparently. Lucien was given his nickname at a young age after making varsity football as a freshman. She informed me that he was smart too, 'so we should get along perfectly'.

He was also... Another senior. Incredibly hot in a completely different way than Azriel. Darker than Azriel, russet colored eyes and slightly long shaggy red hair.

It had been two months since Azriel had left me there that day, stunned into silence. I had replayed it over and over again, trying to pick apart every single word that he had said to me. I had wanted to talk to him the first week, so very badly that it had ached in my bones. I had eventually given up, but it didnt stop me from being worried about him. He avoided me like the plague when he did show up for school. He wouldn't look at me when we passed each other in the hallways, but I noticed that he looked slightly thinner, I could tell his eyes were distant and that he probably was taking something. I wondered how his classes were going. He had blocked my number after the first couple days I had texted him, reminding him about certain things he had said that day, certain things that had eluded toward him having feelings for me. My number was still blocked, as far as I knew.

"You alright over there? What's going on up there?" Luciens voice reminds me where I was again, and my eyes flicker to his, he gestures to my forehead. I blink, realizing that I hadn't said anything in a while.

"I was just wondering if I actually have to call you Lucci. Because I don't think this is going to work out if I do," I play it off smoothly enough that a grin plasters his face and he laughs, leaning back into the seat of his car. We were in front of my house, and he was supposed to be dropping me off, since Shane and Maggie had sleepover plans.

"I like you y/n, you're funny," he's still smiling at me, and he looks at me for the first time tonight. Well he had looked at me a lot at the bowling alley, particularly every time I had gone up for my turn. I hadn't missed his intense, burning gaze. His eyes eventually land on my lips and suddenly, I'm nervous. "And the answer is no. You don't have to call me that. It's just a stupid nickname, don't let it make you underestimate me," his voice had dropped a little bit, huskier now. "You can call me whatever you want," he adds suggestively, he leans in and I don't move, my breathing becoming heavier as his scent fills my nostrils.

"Lucien it is then," I breath out, trying to remain calm, as he gets a little closer, my lips part as I brace myself for the kiss, holding my breath.

And then... Hes kissing me, his large hands are running over my body, feeling me, gently squeezing and rubbing. I feel his fingers slide beneath my skirt, between my legs, I don't tell him to stop, I don't grab his arm or get out of the car, instead I moan softly tilting my head back against the seat as his two fingers dipped into my wetness, gently stretching me. This was the rush I needed, the type of touch I had been craving for weeks. His lips press to my neck as he moves his fingers in and out deliciously, making me moan again. "You are so fucking wet and tight," he pants softly before he begins sucking on my neck, his teeth scraping at the skin. "Where have you been?" he groans against my neck and I arch my back slightly, gasping. It isn't long before Im undone, left panting and wondering if he's going to sneak inside or take me in the back of his car. But instead, he just kisses me, leans back, and smiles before sucking my release off of his fingers slowly. I realize that this is as far as he's going to take it, and I sigh softly.

"You know," I say, squinting my eyes a little at him, "Lucien and Lucifer sound really close," I say, earning a laugh from him, he tosses his head back before shaking his head.

"Go to bed kid, we got school tomorrow," his eyes twinkle and I can't help but smile back before I open the door of the car.

"Goodnight Lucien," he waves once more and only leaves once Im safely inside. Im left reeling, wondering how this year had ended up with me having relations with not one but two senior boys. Lucien was sweet, he was carefree and flirty... But he wasnt Azriel.

I swallow the lump in my throat, reaching up to touch the small hickey that Lucien had left on my neck.

I knew I shouldn't be, but I found myself wondering what Azriel was doing.

It had become routine for Azriel to look past y/n as if she was a ghost when he would pass by her in the hallways. He had said too much that day, exposed himself too much, that the only logical thing to do now was to push her out and pretend like she didnt exist so that she couldn't hurt him back.

That didnt mean he didnt still think about her, every waking moment. It didnt mean that the look on her face every time he had hurt her didnt haunt him. That the shit didn't keep him from eating, or keep him up tossing and turning, every single night. Blocking her had been the obvious solution to her texts that were analyzing the things he had said to her, responding to them anyway when he hadn't given her the chance to speak up at the time. It was too much. He just couldn't handle it. He had fought himself every day since from unblocking her and texting her.

He almost froze completely when he entered the hall that passed y/n's locker. He stopped a little farther down, leaning against the wall by the bathroom. His eyes locked on her and then the boy standing there, and his gut reeled as he saw Lucien of all people, standing in his old spot at her locker. Azriels jaw clenched tightly as he watched her laugh, actually laugh at whatever dumb fuckery he could have been saying. Lucien? Really? He knew him fairly well, they had been going to school together for years, they would graduate together this year, Azriel had sold him weed many times and he knew he was mostly harmless but him and y/n? No fucking way.

His teeth clench, jaw flexing tightly as he watches him try to brush her hair back and she swats him away, still laughing. Her hair falls anyway revealing a small purple hickey right on the side of her neck, before he can think about anything he's across the hallway standing before them.

"What are you doing?" his question is directed to her, tone sharp and demanding, the first words he's spoken to her in months. Her lips part in surprise, shock written all over her face. His eyes keep darting back and forth from her own to the hickey on her neck. A hickey he didnt leave there.

"Im talking to my friend," when she finally speaks, her tone is cool, but her eyes are still searching.

"Well now I want to talk," he responds, almost forgetting that Lucien was even there. Everything else always seemed to melt away when he was near her.

"You good Azriel?" Lucien looks between the two of them, assessing the situation. Azriel peels his eyes away from her, settling them on Lucien, his hazel eyes burning

"I will be when you leave," he says shortly and Luciens face scrunches slightly, his spine straightening as he begins to square up with him.

"Y/n? You okay?" Luciens eyes shift away from Azriels and then settle on her again.

"She's fine," Azriel growls, his fists clenching at his sides, it took everything in him not to completely deck the shit outta him.

"Let her answer," he growls back, his eyes scanning over Azriel.

"Im fine, Lucien, really. I'll catch up with you later," she says, giving him a small nod, he looks at her one last time, as if he would figure out what was going on between the two of them by the hard stare he gave her. He eventually just shakes his head a little, shrugs and gives Azriel one last look over before he walks away, shaking his head.

"What are you doing?" Azriel repeats once he's gone, his mouth is dry, stare so intense that her fingers were shaking as she stared back up at him. His eyes flick back down to the hickey. "Hes doesn't deserve to breath the same air as you y/n," Azriel growled quietly, he knew it was unreasonable, Lucien hadn't exactly done anything wrong, but he couldn't bare to see the two of them like that. He couldn't bare to see someone else making her smile. And to see she had a hickey? Rage burned inside him, but he remained calm, letting it show as he stared down at her. She only huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance, the image makes Azriels heart soar.

"So let me get this straight Azriel," she stares up at him, her voice the tiniest bit shaky, he could tell she was trying her very best to keep her composure. "He doesn't deserve me, you don't deserve me. So what am I supposed to do then, Az? Fuck myself?" Azriel blanches at her words, jealousy gnawed deeply at his gut. They fucked? His nostrils flare. He feels like screaming, like slamming her up against the lockers so hard, he feels like covering that pathetic little hickey with five more of his own. He swallows every word he's about to say.

"Just don't be a fucking idiot y/n, okay?" his jaw flexes, his gaze burning through her, her lips are slightly parted as she looks up at him, his eyes drop, settling there. He recalls how good it feels to kiss her, to touch her, his body feels so hot, so fucking angry as he thinks about him fucking her, him kissing her, and touching her. Word vomit threatens to spill so Azriel turns on his heel, leaving her alone, and stunned to silence.

Azriel didnt know how he had found himself back here, throwing rocks at her window, looking up, silently begging for her to wake, to appear before him looking down, her face flushed, hair messy from sleep. He needed it. He needed her. He had been going out of his mind all day. His thoughts were absolutely tortured by the thought of her fucking someone else. It completely gnawed at his insides. He figured that was mostly why he was here, he was so fucking jealous he couldn't stay away. He couldn't fucking bare the thought of her starting something new with somebody else.

He had tried to distract himself, he had left school immediately to meet up with Rhys and Cass to skate, and get fucked up, obviously. He could tell they were worried about him, they had started prying, not without a bite back from Azriel but they had began prying. He knew they only did that when things got really bad. Azriel had left their place eventually, informing them he was going home which they didnt think was a good idea, he had been far too drunk to drive. He had ignored them and left anyway, and now... Found himself here.

She finally appears in front of her window, sliding it open easily, her lips part as she just stares down at him and they look at each other for what feels like forever. His breathing is slightly ragged, his fingers now balled up at his sides.

"My parents aren't home, you could have knocked," she says, peering down at him, his heart thundered against his chest, liquor running through his system.

"Let me up," is all he says, he was dying to get his hands on her. Dying to touch her skin.

"Again," she mumbles softly, squinting down at him. "You can use the door, my parents aren't home." He doesn't hesitate, but walks quickly to the front door, waiting for her to open it.

"What are you doing here Azriel?" her face is weary, but her tone is soft and he knows its probably because of the state of him, how fucking horrible he looked.

"I can't fucking take this shit anymore y/n," his voice is soft, tone matching hers as he stares at her, he was leaning against the front door now, his palms pressed against the wood as if to keep himself from lunging at her.

"I don't know what you mean," she says, but he knows she does know what he means. Her body language said so, the way she nervously shifted on her feet, the way she covered the small bruise on her neck with her hair. His anger flared silently, he kept it at bay.

"You're going to make me say it aren't you," he takes a small step closer to her, her breath hitches, he swallows the lump in his throat. She's quiet, waiting for him. "I need you y/n okay? Are you fucking happy now? I need you every fucking second of everyday. Ive been drowning these past two months without you. Absolutely drowning," a small gasp escapes her lips, she blinks, as if she was trying to decipher whether or not this was real life.

"Then why..." she trails off, failing at finding the right words. "Then why did you push me away?" she finally breaths out, watching him as his hands grip his hair, pulling gently as he looks up at the ceiling, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. His arms fall at his sides again, another frustrated sigh leaving his lips. Why did she make this so hard? Why couldn't she just see everything?

"I can't fucking help it butterfingers," he breaths, his heart warms slightly at the nickname, recalling the first time they had met, the way she had fallen all over herself with nerves. "And deep down, I just know, that I don't fucking deserve you," he shakes his head, and he meant it, he knew he didnt. Everything he had done from the very beginning proved that.

"Stop saying that Azriel!" her voice raises slightly, frustration gleaming through her tone. "You don't get to determine that! You don't just get to decide what is and isn't good for me!" Her voice falters slightly, but she doesn't move, doesn't tear her eyes away from him.

"You don't realize that everything that I've done since the beginning... Every single mistake I made from the first day that I ever went to your house and fucked you. Without knowing you first, without really getting to know you... I took something from you that you'll never get back from me, I was so fucking selfish and you don't even realize it. When I fucked not one but two girls behind your back when I was fucked out of my mind but really all I wanted was you and I knew it but I was too afraid to admit what that truly meant," he was rambling, but he noticed her visible wince, pain flashing in her eyes, he knew she didn't know about the first girl, at the rave, there was no possible way she could have found out about that, but since everything was being laid out on the table, he figured it didn't matter anymore the truth was the truth. "The way I talked down to you before fucking you just because you cared enough to check on me when my dad died, I treated you like nothing but a slut when you are so much more than that. The way that Ive completely ignored you for months, pretending like nothing ever existed between us, not even checking on you one fucking time, y/n... And you don't even see how horrible I am, you just keep fucking letting me in. Over and over," He trails off again, his eyes sting slightly, he blinks. He was not a crier, and he wasnt about to start now.

"You deserved so much more y/n," his words are soft again, he swallows, his eyes not leaving hers. He doesn't care anymore. He doesn't care about being vulnerable, he isn't afraid of what she's going to say anymore. It didnt matter, nothing mattered except making sure she at least knew the truth, he was facing everything now, finally admitting every single thing outloud. "So when I push you away it's because I have never felt like this before y/n. I have never needed anyone in my entire life. And Im fucking terrified of that, and so Ive fucked up, over and over again and still... Still y/n you stand here in front of me, and you listen," his jaw flexes nervously, his eyes darting, blinking again trying to swallow every piece of emotion that burned inside of him. He waits, he waits for her to explode, to push him out, to finally realize just how awful he was, finally to realize how much better she truly deserved.

But she doesn't run from his words, she doesn't balk, she doesn't realize that he's right about himself... She advances towards him, standing in her tip toes she places her hands on both of cheeks, so tenderly and softly , he melts instantly, his face along with his whole body softening at her touch. It's so light, like a touch a mother gives to a child before sending them off to sleep, feather light, radiating love and warmth. No one had ever touched him like that. His breath hitches, his throat bobbing as he stares down at her, unable to peel his eyes away.

Safe.

It was the only word to describe the feeling that her touch caused to stir up in him. The only time he ever felt remotely like that was when he was with Rhys and Cass. But this... It was different than even that. One of those things that ran so true and deep. His mind told him to run, do something dumb, fuck it up somehow, get away from the intimacy that felt like too much to handle. But he was frozen, his heart wouldn't let him move, he couldn't move.

"Azriel," she says softly, her eyes warm, forgiving, caring. "None of that matters," she whispers, he swallows again, his heart hammering against his chest. "Because I see you," and he knew that she did. All those walls that he tried to keep up, the masks he put on, the self destruct... She saw all of it, his walls had been crumbling since the day he met her. He could admit it now, to himself at least, while standing there with her, after completely pouring his heart out. He could finally admit that he loved her, he wished that he had the courage to say it, just another reason to feel unworthy. Such a coward still.

He can't speak without his voice cracking, so he leans in, waiting to see if she would pull away. She doesn't, her breath hitching quietly, she pulls him a little closer, her fingers still gently placed on his cheeks.

He knows she's about to kiss him, and he closes his eyes, waiting patiently, savoring the feeling of her skin against his. He needed this.

She kissed him, softly pressing. her lips to his. He hums softly, kissing her back in a way that he had never kissed anyone before. Gentle, loving, tender... His fingers slide up, gently weaving into her hair as he holds her in place, his other arm snacking around her slim waist.

She moans softly as he continues to kiss her, tongue gently exploring, getting reacquainted with that pouty little mouth that he has missed so much. He reaches down with both of his hands now, gently picking her up, not daring to pull away as they kiss passionately. She wraps her legs around his waist, gasping softly at the closeness of them now, their bodies pressed together for the first time in what felt like forever. Her arms had moved around his neck, her hands locking behind it to hold herself up.

Azriel carefully carries her to the guest room on the first floor of her house, he refused to break the contact, refused to put her down so they could safely get up the stairs. He sets her gently down on the bed, one of his hands cradling her head so it didnt hit the pillow. He swallowed, trying not to remember how rough he had been with her the last time they did this.

Maybe he didnt have the courage to tell her that he loved her, but he could show her... With the only way he knew how.

He undressed her slowly, carefully kissing each new piece of exposed skin until she was naked in front of him. He marvels for a moment, his breath getting caught in his throat. "Ive missed you so much," he admits softly, her cheeks are blazing, breath ragged as she lay there, gripping the sheets gently and he knew it was to stop herself from covering her body. He was looking at her in a way he never had before, savoring, appreciating, every dip and curve, every freckle or mole, any imperfection that to him, made her absolutely perfect.

He tasted her then, taking his time with each slow and rolling movement of his tongue and lips. Her pussy was dripping, body shaking, covered in goosebumps as she melted more and more under each lick of his tongue. He had never been like this with anyone before, he had never been so careful, so gentle and tender.

It was like he was trying to take every little bit of pain she ever felt away from her, like he was trying to take care of her, like he never had before. She whispered his name, her back arching deliciously, breasts peaked in the air. He only stops when she moans his name softly, her body going rigid as she releases before she goes limp, panting underneath him.

He slowly kisses back up her body, finding her lips again, she moans at the taste of herself, her fingers finding Azriels hair and tugging gently. "Can I..." he trails off, gently pulling his mouth off of hers, her arms fall by her head and she nods quickly, knowing exactly what he was asking for.

"Please," she whispers, watching as he undresses himself, revealing his tanned tattooed body to him. She bites her lip, heat rushes through him again, a small nervous breath escaping his lips.

He hesitantly reaches down with one of his hands, intwining their fingers together, she gasps softly at the intimacy, their eyes glued to one another. He gently guides himself to her opening, slowly pushing all of himself in, a moan escapes his lips, he had missed this so much.

And then, he made love to her, for the first time in his life, he made love. He poured every single thing that he felt for her into each rolling thrust of his body. Her soft moans felt like music to his ears, and they panted, their breaths falling insync, eyes never leaving each others. Their hands interlaced on either side of her face, noses bumping from time to time. He savored every last second of it.

They did it again and again. Making love into the early hours of the morning until sunlight peaked through the blinds of the guest room. He couldn't sleep, he had refused to sleep. He had refused to do anything besides draw the night out for as long as he could.

"I am sorry y/n, for everything," its the first thing he says to break the silence, they hadn't spoken in hours, just kissed and touched and made love.... Held each other.

"I forgive you," she says quietly. "I won't give up you know," she mumbles then, her eyes are closed, head on his chest like it had been the night she first told him that she loved him. He knew what she meant, and he believed her, he trusted that she wouldn't give up on him. Even if he continued to push her away. A few long moments of silence pass as he tries to gather the courage for what he wants to say.

"If you let me," he swallowed the lump in his throat, pushed down the nerves. "I'd like to... Start fresh," he struggled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Do everything the right way this time."

She doesn't say a word though, she's already sleeping peacefully, blissfully in his arms.

a/n: IM SCREAMING ! my heart is on the floor. thoughts?!

also this hasn't been proof read yet cus i just wanted to post it so if you see any mistakes ill get to it eventually

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel smut #acotar fic #acotar smut #azriel spymaster #azriel fan fiction #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #azriel acotar #azriel #pro azriel #azriel angst #azriel acosf

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sunraies · 2 years ago

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a smut where rafe is streaming but reader (she/her) gets horny and is teasing him behind the camera and the conversation get to the point/topic about onlyfans 🙈 AAAAH IM SORRY BUT I DREAMT OF THIS LAST NIGHT AND I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT AHAHAHHAA 🙈 help me out here please 🫶✨ thank youuuuuuuuu

I tried, only proofread once as always with smut

Distraction

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings- +18 MDNI, smut, fingering, reader teasing Rafe. Dirty talk.

As requested above. Rafe is on a live stream, and you distract him.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Throwing the book down on the bed and kicking the blanket of your legs. You sighed in frustration. You had just read some absolute filth and had a million thoughts running through your head with no Rafe to help you.

You could sort out your little problem yourself, but ever since you began dating Rafe, it wasn't the same. You often found it just made you need him more, and that made you even more frustrated.

His voice and laughter carried from the spare room, his streaming room of your shared house, as you dug around in the bedside drawer. You smiled at the buzz of your bullet vibrator before it suddenly stopped.

"Fuck" you cursed at flopped backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating life. You knew your own hand would be no good. "Fucking asshole" you muttered to yourself.

Once you heard his laugh again, you sat up suddenly and came up with a plan to get what you wanted. Stream time be damn, you needed Rafe.

Rafe started his streaming career three years ago. He had started with videos of the crazy shit he and his friends would get up to. From yacht parties to setting off fireworks on the Country Club golf course. People ate up the crazy rich lifestyle.

Over time, and as his fan base grew, while the videos became wilder, they also became calmer. Sometimes, he could sit live in front of the camera and just chat. They still loved him.

"Yeah, so we won't. We won't be. " Rafe stumbled on whatever he was explaining as you stood in the doorway. You had caught his attention the moment you leant against it.

'Hi baby,' you mouthed, stood in only his white shirt and lacy black lingerie.

He shook his head, trying to regain focus on what question he had been asked. He was thanking all the gods that the camera was the other way round so no one could see how, drop dead gorgeous you looked.

"So, as I was saying. Top won't be sticking a firework up his ass, again. " He tried to explain as comments flooded the screen, everyone wondering what had suddenly him so distracted.

You sent him a wicked smirk as you trialled a hand down your body, right to the panty line. His eyes roamed your body with your hand before they snapped up to yours, daring you to do it.

"What am I looking at?" He read a comment aloud before smirking."Well, I'm looking at the most gorgeous site on the planet"

You felt your cheeks heat up, but didn't want to back down as your fingers slowly dipped below the panties and began circling your clit. You bit your lip so as not to moan while your other hand cupped your breast, playing with your nipple through the thin fabric.

"Yes. It's my girl. " He kept eye contact with you before raising an eyebrow as you frowned. He knew it wasn't giving you any relief.

His followers knew of you. He never kept you a secret, but your face was never in his videos. He wanted you to have some privacy, but sometimes you were in a photo or in the background of a house video. Most of them seemed to love you, too.

"Come here, baby." He held a hand out to you

You hesitated before walking over and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He covered you the best he could and made sure that your face was cut out. Luckily, the only part visible was your torso.

"I think I'm needed for something. But you'll have a new video by the end of the week. " He spoke to the camera again. "Three words, foam, pool and party"

He reached over to stop the stream before comments asking for only fans videos with you and saying how amazing you looked, caught his attention.

"What do you think, baby?" He whispered in your ear, squeezing you tighter, his hand holding you thigh. He made sure your legs weren't visible as his thumb brushed against your lace covered core. "Would you join me on only fans?"

You knew he had one. It was something he often got you to help with, but you had always been behind the camera.

All you could was nod before he placed a quick kiss on your neck.

"She said yes." He smiled at the camera. "Maybe there'll be a video up later. Bye"

He quickly shut everything down before humming and kissing your neck again, peppering from your jaw to your shoulder with kisses.

"Would you really like that, pretty girl?" He gently run his fingers over your folds, feeling how soaked you were. "You like the idea of people watching while I make you come undone"

"Yes, Rafe." You breathed, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he forced your legs open wider. His hand harshly played with your clit, making you jolt forward.

"Let's get you warmed up, baby." He continued to tease you before slipping in two fingers, pumping them slowly. You gasped and rocked into his hand while his other hand played with your breast.

"I want them witnessing how you scream my name and to hear you cry when you desperately want to cum. My good girl"

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #outerbanks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe request

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moonsaver · 10 months ago

Note

Wahh I'm back haha, don't worry about messing up the request it happens! I still loved it the other way around!

Im so sorry anon, im delirious from lack of sleep and didnt read your request right. I hope this will be okay, <33

Sunday is usually busy, so when on this specific day, when you insist on meeting up with him in the middle of his schedule, he's a bit irked.

He imagines its most likely something important, or you needed something that only he could provide (which could only be done in private, behind doors).

So he's very sure to clear out people from the vicinity of his office, telling them he'll be alright and hastily shoo-ing them away in the most professional manner.

And then.. you show up, with a cheeky grin and a heart-shaped box. Curious.

And you set down the chocolate on his desk, almost humorously contrasting to his very well kept desk. You explain Valentine's to him and he understands, mainly because it's a bit of his duty to keep tabs on festivities, even of other planets.

And he offers you to sit down, asks you about it in more detail, while curiously scanning the box. He doesn't realise you made it yourself until you drop it in the middle of conversation, and he stays still for a moment, deep in thought, before a loving smile breaks out on his face.

Sunday appreciates any effort from you so much. He knows he's not exactly easy to love, especially because you have to do it from a distance most of the time. So he appreciates it so so much. He's already thinking of all the ways he wants to pay you back – not because he sees it as a transaction, but rather he wants to let you know he sees your efforts and wants to return them, too.

Lovingly guides you to sit you down beside him, and feeds you a piece of chocolate first, and then eats it himself. Very neatly picks it up, careful to make sure it doesnt melt on his gloves, and it doesn't get on your face. Wipes off any excess bits on your face and compliments the flavors, tells you about how popular they are, flavors that are particularly favored from certain worlds, and all sorts of things. He wraps up the box neatly and insists you wait for a bit outside his office, tenderly kissing your forehead.

After a few moments of quiet shuffling, his door clicks open, as he gives you a very beautifully sealed letter. He says it was supposed to be for another occasion, and he had to rush the writing a bit at the end, but most of it was completed, and stamped perfectly. The letter is about 3 pages long, and full of well-wishes, and feelings Sunday probably wouldn't be able to tell you directly face to face. He kisses your hand and tells you he'll make some time for you another day, and make up for the time he couldn't spend today.

He listens to your quiet footsteps shuffle down the hallway, further away from his office, and once he's sure you're gone, he sighs, sitting down in his office chair. He sits deeply in thought, and anyone walking in would have thought he was in deep trouble, trying to find a solution for an extremely multifaceted and complex issue.. when really, he's thinking about just how dangerously he's wrapped around your finger. Perhaps he prefers it that way?

#moonink #hsr #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr sunday x reader #hsr x you #hsr sunday x y/n #hsr sunday x you #sunday x reader #sunday hsr

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yourstingrey · 9 months ago

Text

Foolish One

A/N:Hiii i already tried to post this once and run away for the weekend so I didn't have to see any notes but I forgot tags so reposting lol but thank you for the support on my last fic as well I tried to take my time with this one and even though I'm still not the biggest fan of it I thought I should still post it so I can improve next time!!!

Wc:3081

Warnings: angst, situationship, lowkey toxic relationship, hinting at hooking up, i gave the cabins a bathroom cus im not making you walk outside for that, grammar??

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

Chances are, tonight, you've already got plans

And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again.

Me and Luke have had a bit of a flirtationship for a while. A LONG while. Sometimes I think for too long but I've always had a crush on Luke. I mean the greatest swordsman at camp, always so helpful to new campers, and he's so beautiful. So when he finally noticed me months ago I gushed to my siblings about it, in the beginning, it was perfect. He would invite me on perfect dates, little picnics by the lake, walks in the forest together ranting about things at camp that bugged us, and even a couple of ‘hangouts’ in the Hermes cabin when everyone was off.

You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

Wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right

But nowadays he's always so busy I mean I can't blame him he's THE role model of camp. Plus he never forgets to slip a letter to my siblings saying he was sorry for not seeing me but I know where he is. He's never really busy.

And I will block out these voices of reason in my head.

And the voices say, "You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson"

Moths fill my stomach as I walk to the Hermes cabin eating holes inside me and making my nerves practically leak out of me as I approach the door. Finally reaching the pale yellow door and sucked in my breath before knocking. I rock back and forth on my heels staring at the stained glass above the door before refocusing my attention on the door opening. To my dismay, it wasn't Luke who I planned on asking to hang out with today but instead, Chris opened the door.

As he opened the door he made an almost pitiful look “Are you looking for Luke..?” I cleared my throat awkwardly before speaking “Oh um yeah… do you know where he would be by any chance!”. The look on his face practically sunk in more but then I think he realized how he was staring at me “I think he is out training but he might be busy so maybe you shouldn't see him” he said rushed while rubbing the back of his neck like it was sore “Thanks Chris but I'm sure he won't mind i'll be super quick!”

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Leaves crunch as I walk the arena mumbling under my breath how to ask to have a break with him. Even a quick walk in the woods would work. I'm desperate for Luke now even if he wants to say he doesn't want to see me anymore I'd take it. Arena in sight my pace quickens to the entrance ready to slip in but pause as I hear the unmistakable charming laugh of Lukes but also unfamiliar hushed giggles.

As I stand outside the clear opening I purse my lips before deciding that I would peak in just in I mean it's not like I mean to eavesdrop but I've never seen Luke with any girls so publicly he insists he likes things like that to be private saying “it's more special to keep it to ourselves”. The moment I looked inside the arena my heart dropped to my stomach it was Luke and Drew. Drew was a daughter of Aphrodite and you could tell she was tall and had long dark hair she was beautiful. Clearly, something Luke said must have said the funniest thing on the planet as they couldn't stop laughing.

In some universe where I was braver, I would march up to them and ask what was so funny but instead, I cowered, peaking in still. But in the worst-case scenario, Luke looked over at the entrance. It wasn't even some corny I slipped and he saw he just looked over. It was clear he saw me, he whispered something over to Drew and now she was looking too. It felt like I was in quicksand I couldn't move and I was sinking deeper and deeper now that she was watching and he was heading over.

As he jogs over I hear him in an out of breath tone spit out “Hey what are you doing here?” I go back to rocking on my heels “Oh uhhh I just came to see you because we just haven't hung out in a while. I mean if you're busy it's okay just uh y'know..” I mumble out the last bit embarrassed of my stammering. Rubbing the back of his neck looking behind him before turning back at me sharply inhaling through his teeth and saying “Uh… sure yeah how about you meet me later at the spot? Just go at night and I'll meet you there.” I try not to look visibly awkward by the curt sound of his voice but I won't prod to see if that's true “Okay I'll meet you there later!”

He looked at me before giving me a quick bye and spinning on his heel back to Drew. But honestly, I was riding a tiny high right now. I was excited to see him. A coy smile plays on my lips as I go back to my cabin.

You know how to keep me waitin'

I know how to act like I'm fine

Don't know what to call this situation

But I know I can't call you mine

Picking out an outfit isn't hard when most of your clothes consist of orange camp shirts or the few cute clothes you took from home. I landed on shorts and a sweater before finally tiptoeing out of my cabin. The cold chill of the evening air was overwhelmed by the almost caffeine jitter bounce running through my body as I walked a secret path Luke and I practically created with how much our shoes scuffed up the ground leading to our spot.

Reaching the end of the path expecting a familiar head of curls to be sitting maybe watching the stars waiting instead I stare out into the empty small clearing. My eyes sting and my lip wobbles. I quietly continue to shuffle over until I sit down trying to shake it off to him running a bit late. We didn't say exactly what time so honestly I felt silly getting upset. Relaxed now I bring my knees up to my chest and prop my chin up on them holding my legs with my arms. Sitting in our spot felt nostalgic for the earlier summer, stumbling off into the woods looking to escape prying eyes and stumbling on this exact spot…

And it's delicate, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof

'Cause when my head is on your shoulder

It starts thinkin' you'll come around

Swift feet run through the forest as I feel my arm being tugged along to keep up, “Luke! Slow down trust me no one is gonna find us at this rate!” my voice practically cuts out like glitches through my laughter as Luke finally slows down his pace to turn back to me “Yknow you're no fun in trying to make it private for us” tilting his head to the side and giving me a joking pout. I grab his hand and swing it back and forth “Shut up if that's true why do you spend so much of your precious time with me then hmmm?” He drops my hand and starts to walk backward further into the woods “You know what... You're on to something I've gotta get away from you! I think you must have put a spell on me, are you sure you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite after all?”

I follow after him and jokingly shove him to the side to walk in front of him “ugh you're such a jerk someti-” My feet lifted from the ground cutting my sentence off, feeling his strong arms wrap around my torso and looking down at his laughing face before he starts to spin us in a circle a quick few times before stop and setting me back down. Looking up at Luke to see him gazing at the view in front of us, an almost perfect clearing giving you a view of the calm water below and the blue sky above a log laid down in front of it grabbing hold of luke's hand again and tugging it to get him to sit down against the log with me. Sitting I leaned my head to rest on his shoulder, knees bumping as we sat our interlocked hands sat in my lap and I just stared down at them in this light with him and me sitting here they looked almost like they were carved out of marble made only fit with each other perfectly. I changed my gaze to peer up through my lashes at Luke now to see he was already looking at me. My cheeks flare up in a warm pink glow as I feel my chest humming, his face leans down, his other hand reaching up to cup the burning cheek, eyes fluttering shut lips brushing in delicate kisses while Luke grins into it…

But then the voices say, "You are not the exception, You will never learn your lesson"

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love. That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

I shiver maybe at the breeze passing by, maybe at the memory I couldn't tell, hugging my knees tighter and looking out before the sound of a leaf quietly crunches behind me. I didn't look back though I knew it was him no one else knew our spot was too far out. He slid right next to me on the log before speaking up in a quiet tone “I'm sorry I took so long just.. Yknow my cabin has so many campers it's hard to duck out when you're their counselor, I really didn't mean to keep you waiting..” Finishing his sentence he pulls me into him making me cuddle into his side. I sigh contently forgiving him in my head because to be wrapped up with him shining down on us like a spotlight made it feel right. “s’okay thank you for coming Luke..” “Of course..”

Now I'm slidin' down the wall with my head in my hands

Sayin', "How could I not see the signs?"

Oh, you haven't written me or called, But goodbye screamin' in the silence

We sat there together for a while and talked about what we had missed in each other's lives until the quiet chill made our hands feel frozen even with them clasped tightly together. Luke said he would walk me back to my cabin saying “If we get caught I'll just say I caught you sneaking out and I'm taking you back” Thanking the gods that we have Luke's counselor job as pass I really don't think I could handle Mr. D and Chiron put me back to cleaning the stables which I only did to take the blame for Luke last summer.

We arrive back into camp feeling Luke unclasp our hands without a word. My steps flatter for a mere second before I simply choose to ignore the action and catch up with his stride. As we walk I speak up “Um thanks for walking me back to my cabin I really appreciate it..” “It's no problem can’t let my favorite archer walk out in the cold alone!” he says in a positive but quiet voice. “So I was wondering if I could see you again yknow maybe we could just eat together or something if you don't have a lot of time..?” Our steps come to a halt in front of my cabin now he looks at me sucking a breath from his teeth before opening his mouth to speak “Ah.. I think I'm kinda busy tomorrow, Drew asked if I could show her how to get better at sword fighting so I have to show her that… I think I'll be doing it for a while. Y’know how practice makes perfect but I'll let you know when I'm free.”

My lips pursed together for a moment looking at my shoes as he talks and finally looking back at him when he finishes “Oh okay.. Well yeah just let me know! See you later!” I hear him mumble a quick ‘yep night’ before turning around and walking off, I stand there for a moment almost waiting to see if he would look back and maybe try to catch a glimpse of me going in, but he didn't.

'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings

I'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

And you will say you had the best of intentions

And maybe I will finally learn my lesson

Creeping back to my bunk as quietly as possible trying not to disturb any of my sleeping siblings, but forgetting about one extra creaky floorboard located directly next to one of my sister's bunks, at camp practically everyone is a light sleeper after having to go on a quest. A mess of tangles and a sleeping mask shot up before my sister Rey pulled it off her eyes to see me ‘doing the walk of shame’ as she once called it. “What are you doing awake…?” her voice quiet and still full of sleepiness “Oh yknoww I just hung out with Luke for a bit..”

She sat up a little straighter and gave me the same look Chris gave me this evening. “You saw Luke..? I thought you guys were like totally over…” “Well, not completely we just fell out a bit I'm going to see him again soon he just is going to help train campers for a bit y'know!” Her brows furrow and her mouth twists with disdain “Is that camper.. Drew?” leaning against a bedpost and starting to pick at my nails “I mean yeah but like-” A loud groan cuts me off “You're kidding. I'm not saying this to hurt your feelings but.. Do you really think they're training? It just seems like what you guys used to do if you ask me..”

She tucked herself back into the covers rolling over to stop facing me leaving me with a not so subtle hint. Walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth so i could finally sleep i find myself staring at my figure in the mirror longer, my hand dropping down to stop brushing setting it down on the sink, my lip starts to wobble again and the bitter sting filled my eyes again blurring my vision as i sunk to the floor to sit on the cool tiles for a bit. Drew and Luke were doing exactly what they used to do ‘training’ is Luke's code word for fucking. I knew that already, we used to use it often. But i thought if he saw me tonight then it couldn't be that. He wouldn't do that. But Luke would, he knows that I know those code words but Luke wouldn't do that…

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Waking up felt like a chore this morning, the sun shining instead of being warm and inviting felt like it was melting me down into a pile of mush as I got up. Walking to the mess hall was worse seeing them sit together breaking the camper's sit with their cabin's rule, giggling into each other's ears like I saw them before. Walking past them to my table hoping he would spare me a glance just a small look that said ‘I'm only entertaining her for a bit and I'll be back’ but he was practically bewitched by her.

Ain't never gonna come

Ooh, you will learn the hard way now

Foolish one

Sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love

They ain't never gonna come

A week passed by and he never came running back instead he ran around with her, when it finally sunk in the pitiful sorrys of my sibling and even a handful of Luke's friends came but they fell silent on my ears wallowing in my self-pity, shutting in my cabin for a bit before deciding I couldn't just shut myself in because I lost the 3rd most decent head of curls in camp. The night came crickets chirping, acting as my background music as I took my throw blanket off my bed to sneak out just to take a short walk to relax. Heading down the long path noticing fresh grass starting to grow back out of the scuffed dirt it brought a small grin back to my face which fell almost immediately at the sight of two figures in a oh so familiar spot.

And thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out

Foolish one

The day is gonna come for your confessions of love

When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one

No, he just wasn't the one

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #pjo #luke castellan angst

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anakin-pilled · 10 months ago

Text

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part three)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 9.4k

warnings: no use of y/n, mentions of EDs, body dysmorphia/body issues, fainting, mistreatment, hospitalization, crying, reader being emotional, anakin being a reckless driver, half proofread bc i got lazy (will probably edit another day, its late af as im posting this)

rating: 18+

author's note: hi, i'm so sorry for the delay on chapter three! life got really busy and i found myself not having enough time to write, but now life has settled and i finally had enough time and inspo to finish this chapter. i literally forced myself to stay home this weekend and finish this chapter bc i'll be traveling this week and won't have time to write. i hope i made up for it by making this chapter longer than usual!! let me know if u have any questions or comments. reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

creds to saradika for the divider!

You originally had no plans this weekend, but after much persuasion from one of your closest friends, you decided to attend some party that a friend of a friend was hosting. It was better than being locked up in your apartment all weekend, letting the thoughts of Anakin consume your mind and slowly pick away at your sanity. After all, it gave you the chance to dress up prettily, consume free hooch, and maybe find someone to get under and help you get over Anakin.

The water in your porcelain sonic tub was doused in a fragrant Crimson Jelly Spire oil and mixed with the fragile petals of a Jasmine flower. The combination of spice and sweetness left your skin refreshed and smelling good. The midday light of Corscant filtered through the windows and cast the nearly all-ivory refresher in an ethereal lighting. The water swished around you as you hugged your knees to your chest and laid the side of your cheek on top of them. You trained your eyes on the refresher’s ceilings before blowing a loose piece of hair out of your face. You ran this bath about an hour ago, but you had yet to get up because your mind was occupied by him. Staying away from Anakin was harder than you anticipated. Your mind recalled, for about the hundredth time today, two instances that happened over the last few rotations.

The first instance with Anakin left you unnerved and unconfident in your self-proclamation to stay away from him.

The benefit concert was only a few rotations away now, so you started practicing. Even though you were only performing songs that you already performed and rehearsed before, it still didn’t hurt to practice even more. This was going to be broadcast across the Republic, so you had to be perfect.

You holed yourself up in your practice room for the majority of the day. The only time you saw Anakin was in the morning when your protocol droid prepared breakfast. You told Anakin that you would be practicing with your team of dancers for the day, so there was no need for him to stay with you all day. You encouraged him to take the day off and reassured him that your practice suite was located in a safe building with 24/7 security watch. Anakin insisted that he at least drop you off. He could take the time to stop by the Temple and check in on Ahsoka’s training.

That was hours ago. It was nearing your twelfth hour of continuous practice and you were exhausted, to say the least. Your vocal cords felt raw from the amount of singing you did today, and the legs in your muscles were spasming from the constant repetition of your dancing. You dismissed your team members around two hours ago, you didn’t think they should be subjected to your perfectionist tendencies. One of them, a Pantoran girl named Chione, voiced her concern for you. Chione was one of your oldest dancers, she joined your team during your first mini-tour around a few Core planets and has never left your team since. You considered her one of your closest friends.

“Are you positive that you’re okay to practice on your own? You’ve barely had any food today. I don’t want you fainting with no one to help,” voiced Chione in a dulcet tone. She was always looking out for your well-being, especially because she knew how hard you could be on yourself. Chione was a source of bright life in your life and one of the most genuine people you’ve ever known.

“I’ll be fine, Chione. I had a heavy breakfast, and I’ve made sure to eat energy pudding bars and stay hydrated during our breaks,” you reassured your friend. She looked unconvinced, but you rushed her out of the room with a kiss on her cheek and a promise to send her a message once you arrived home.

Now that you had the studio to yourself, you decided to go through a few more drills and focus on the routines that you struggled with the most. You weren’t always a perfectionist. Back when you lived on Bar’leth, you were neither the smartest student in your grade nor the dumbest student–you were perfectly average. You didn’t feel the need to engage in your classmates’ cutthroat competition or push yourself more than you required. Even when it came to your musical prowess, you sang and studied instruments because you enjoyed it and it brought you happiness. If you were stuck on learning a certain composition or hitting the right note, you would always put in your best effort, but you never lost any sleep over it. You knew that if you were to put pressure on yourself, it would take the enjoyment away. Music was yours, without any strings, expectations, or attachments to soil your relationship with it.

That swiftly changed once you were signed a record deal with one of Coruscant’s most famous record labels, Interstellar Records. You didn’t even know it was possible to become famous at the intergalactic level. Most of the artists you listened to on Bar’leth were artists from your planet. The galaxy’s population is enormous–Coruscant alone has around three trillion people! You never imagined that your name would known anywhere besides Bar’leth. Yet, luck seemed to be on your side on that one fateful day.

The story of how you were discovered is quite simple. Your school hosted an annual festival for the anniversary of the formation of Bar’leth’s government. It’s a joyous holiday where students are encouraged to promote Bar’leth’s culture through food, traditional customs, and performances. Families and regular citizens flock to the school to join and watch the students at the festival. It’s a day you look forward to every year. Each class section is assigned to a particular event. The graduating class of that year is always assigned to open the festival with a choir rendition of Bar’leth’s national anthem. You were asked to lead the choir since the music instructor knew of your talent, which meant that you would be the main singer. Little did you know that one of the executives from Interstellar Records was at the school festival. One of his nephews attended your school, so that was his reason for being there. As soon as you got off the stage and the festivities started, you were immediately pulled to the side by your school’s headmaster who introduced you to the executive. He spoke to you about your talent, and how he believed that you could make something of yourself with proper training and a recording label to manage you.

That was five years ago, and a lot has changed since then. After finishing your last year of government-mandated education, you moved to Coruscant and began your career as a professional artist. Life suddenly flipped. Your upbringing on Bar’leth was humble. You came from a decent, middle-class family and lived in a standard home. Suddenly, you lived in a fancy Coruscant apartment with the former senator Sheev Palpatine, and you were always surrounded by a team of managers who dictated your schedule from morning to night. You were given vocal training, attended dance classes, and sat through etiquette and media training courses all while trying to produce your debut record. The first year of your career was marked by sleepless nights due to the sheer amount of activities on your daily agenda. Many times throughout the first year, you debated if this was a smart decision.

You continuously pushed yourself through it because dreams weren’t achieved by themselves. You had to work to make your dreams come true. This was just part of the process. At least that’s what you said to reason with your inner self to avoid any feelings of regret and anxiety. Yet, throughout that first year, you were also exposed to a darker side of the industry that you weren’t equipped to handle as a barely legal adult. When you signed that contract with the label, you also signed away any right to individuality and personal autonomy.

You had a certain image to uphold as a public figure and this image was controlled entirely by your label. You were like clay that they could bend at their will–constantly being prodded and

molded until you were nothing short of perfection. Your clothes were preselected each day, hair was only done in styles the label wanted, and pre-answered scripts were given for interviews. Worst of all, even your diet was dictated by the label. How much you ate, what you ate, and even when you ate was all at the discretion of the executives. They even went so far as to weigh you weekly to make sure you were staying on top of your weight. If you weren’t at their goal weight, they subjected you to intense periods of exercise. It was an abusive cycle that fundamentally altered your self-esteem. Slowly, you became a shell of the person you once were. You didn’t find enjoyment in your career anymore, something you were once so passionate and excited about. The harsh regime of your management extinguished that flame. All that mattered to you was if you were meeting your label’s expectations. You were consumed by the weight of their expectations. You drowned under their judgment, and each criticism was like a blaster shot straight to your heart. The executives weren’t satisfied no matter what you did. Practice hours went from a few hours of your day to half of your day. You slowly cut contact with your friends from home and lied to your family when they asked how you were doing. You couldn’t bear to tell them the truth. You were miserable.

Eventually, the constant overwork and abuse by the label became too much for your body to handle and one day you fainted in the middle of practice. The medic at the medcenter informed you that your body shut due to exhaustion and malnutrition. Due to you being one year away from being a legal adult by the Republic’s standards, the medic was forced to report this incident to the authorities. Holonet tabloids somehow got a hold of this information and leaked it on their celebrity gossip pages. This prompted an investigation from the Intergalactic Federation of Musicians, the trade guild dedicated to musicians, performers, and songwriters, who determined that your label was not properly upholding their side of the contract. The IFM fined Interstellar Records and voided your contract, which left you free and away from their abuse.

It took you a few months to recover from the whole incident. The best course of action was to move back to Bar’leth while you healed. Your career didn’t stop there, however. Right before the situation, your debut album was released. Hence, you were practicing for upcoming promotions the label scheduled you for. The release of your debut album was quiet–until your face ended up on the Holonet’s hot spot after the initial news broke. The people of Coruscant, and even some people from neighboring planets, pitied you. You never intended for anything to be this way, but the story that the tabloids ran against you worked in your favor. You, a young fresh-faced, and doe-eyed girl from a smaller Core planet, were a victim of the cruel entertainment industry. Everyone blamed the label, rightfully so, but the amount of support and influx of love from Coruscant’s citizens catapulted you into fame and stardom. The public wanted to see you win (until they didn’t). Other recording labels were knocking at your door, trying to get you to sign with their company You were hesitant, not wanting to experience the same trauma. Senator Palpatine offered his help in negotiating the contract bids as an apology for not noticing what you were going through before. After all, you were still living with him while you were still signed to Interstellar. You didn’t blame him as you hid your problems well. Regardless, it all worked out in the end as you were signed to a new label, under terms and conditions you saw fit. Four years have passed since you signed onto Nebula Music Group. Your fame instantaneously increased after signing with them. Gido was assigned your new manager, and you were extremely thankful for him because he played a major role in ensuring you were properly treated and supported by the label. Nebula Music Group had more trust and faith in you than Interstellar, so they allowed you more authority and creative liberties in the music-making process. Because of this, you could produce authentic, critically acclaimed, popular albums. Your last album, Last Words of a Shooting Star, broke a record with the highest sales of sound slugs in history for a female artist. You did mini tours around the inner and mid-Core planets. Despite your initial hardships, life was turning out better than you envisioned. You had a second chance at your dream. You liked to consider yourself fully healed from the situation, but that was far from the truth.

Take now for example.

In moments like this, when it’s only yourself and the mirror, your mind can’t help but flashback to the horrible treatment you suffered at the hands of those people. You know that no matter how much therapy or how far removed from the situation you were, a part of you was still stuck in the past.

Chione was right to be concerned. This wasn’t the first time you stayed behind and continued practicing on your own, often to the point of exhaustion and breaking down. She’s caught you in these moments before, where you were so focused on perfection that you failed to take care of yourself properly—staying dehydrated, skipping meals, and not sleeping just so you could devote more time to practice. You would gladly damage yourself for it. You couldn’t help it. Insecurity was embedded in your bones. You knew that as a young female in the industry, you had a short shelf life (or at least that’s what your previous label hammered into your brain). Once the industry deemed you expired, you would be nothing. Thus, you needed to be so perfect, that even past your expiration date, people would still want you. You were nothing without desirability.

You looked at yourself with hard eyes in the mirror. Your eyes landed on the deep, heavy-set eye bags under your eyes. A scowl appeared on your face. You then moved your eyes to your arms, which never seemed skinny enough for you. A knot formed in your throat. Lastly, you laid your eyes upon your stomach. No matter how many meals you skipped, what diet fads you went on, or what food you prematurely threw away to avoid finishing, your stomach never looked the way you wanted. A sigh escaped your throat.

It was futile to worry about these things now. At a time so late in the day, nothing good would come of it. You inhaled and exhaled breathing as if you were absorbing and releasing all of your previous negative energy. Putting on a fake smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you gave yourself one last look before continuing to practice.

The song you were currently dancing to belonged to the glimmick genre–a genre of music that was associated with frenzied sounds and rapid beats. As an artist, you were most comfortable with the sparkle-bop and pop genres. That was your domain, and it was the genre that made you famous. However, you wanted you wanted to experiment on your recent album to get out of your artistic comfort zone and reach a wider audience, so you included songs of different genres, with glimmick being one of them. Due to the nature of the glimmick genre, your song “Atom of the Pneuma,” required an intricate, fast-paced dance with movements that you were not familiar with. The choreography for this dance was sharp and pristine, contorting and bending your body to resemble straight, angular lines. Most of your choreography featured lighter dance moves, with flowy movement and softer forms. It was the reason you stayed later than the rest of your team–you wanted to hone on this particular routine before the benefit concert.

Your legs were bent, hands placed on top of your thighs as you caught your breath and prepared to replay the song just a few more times before calling ending the day. You got into position. The song started and filled the room with a pounding, rich techno bass that bounced off the walls. You began to move your body to the beat while your right arm was simultaneously moving it to create a pattern that extended from your body outward. Your head followed the beat as well, which left you slightly dizzy. You learned to block out any negative sensations when dancing, a practice you learned from the days when you danced on little sleep and little food. The unpleasant sensation went ignored until you spun your body around and lost your balance resulting in an unceremonious fall toward the hard wooden floor. You placed your arms to cushion your fall out of reflex, but the fall never came. A pair of large, calloused hands were placed on your waist, holding you steady. The hands gently guided you toward the floor, forcing you to sit.

You raised your face toward the ceiling, trying to see who it was that miraculously saved you from your fall. The bright lights of the practice room invaded your eyesight and you could only make out the fuzzy outline of the person. Tiny, black dots swirled your vision as you tried to regain your composure. The feeling was overwhelming. You could feel your breath quicken as you tried to calm yourself. This wasn’t the first time you have fainted from overdoing it, but it was never any easier each time. You hated the feeling, you hated the coldness that washed over your body, you hated how your vision failed you, and you hated the dull panging inside your head.

You shut your eyes, barely focusing on the person next to you. Your nails dug into your palm, the pain distracting you from the uncomfortable feeling and forcing you back into the present. After a few more moments, you opened your eyes again and turned your vision to the only other figure in the room. You could feel the warmth of their body next to yours–the warmth overpowering the previous coldness your body felt.

“Anakin,” you whispered.

“You okay there, pop star?” Anakin softly replied. “You almost took a nasty fall, you could have sprained your wrist or hurt your head. We wouldn’t want that before the big day, now would we?”

His brown curls gently caressed his face as he looked down at you. He was kneeling over you, eyes scanning over your body to make sure you were okay. You didn’t even hear him enter. How did he get inside? Access to this room was only allowed by people with logged fingerprints and/or other DNA indicators.

“Just give me a minute please.” You still felt lightheaded.

Anakin stood up and walked toward your practice bag and grabbed the container of water that was sitting next to it. He then proceeded toward you, sat next to you, and put the tip of the container to your lips. You titled your head back as you drank. After a couple of gulps, you answered Anakin’s question.

“I apologize if I frightened you. I must have overdone it and got lightheaded because of it. I assure you that I feel better now and can continue my practice,” You tried to stand up before Anakin’s hand caught your wrist and dragged you back toward the ground. Your response was cold and robotic. That’s because you were in a different mode right now, your more “professional” mode which consisted of one thing only–to never give up until you were blue in the fact. It was ingrained in you from your past training that even if you felt like complete bantha shit, you couldn’t stop practicing just because you felt slightly off. Perfection could never be achieved if you stopped every single time you felt bad.

“Just take a moment to relax. You nearly fainted. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you continue to practice in this state,” Anakin reasoned. He pitied you because he knew the exact look of determination on your face.

“I can’t stop. The benefit is only a few rotations from now. I have to get this routine down, or else I’ll look like a fool on stage,” you argued back. You turned, but Anakin kept a firm hold on your wrist.

“Stop being stubborn and just take a quick break.” The seriousness in Anakin’s tone made you want to cry. His voice projected across the now silent practice room. You were already feeling bad from almost fainting and now you were being emotional too. You slipped to the ground and hung your head low as tears welled up in your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice wavered. Putting in this state always puts you in a weird headspace. You swallowed the tight knot that formed in your throat. You didn’t want to cry in front of Anakin.

Anakin noticed the waver of your voice and how you refused to meet his eyes. He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so harsh, but he didn’t want you to hurt yourself either.

“It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t mean for my voice to sound that way,” Anakin hesitated before putting a hand on your shoulder for comfort. He felt slightly awkward. He didn’t know you very well yet, so he didn’t want to invade your personal space, but he recognized that you needed some comfort.

“You should leave. You don’t have to deal with me. I know the Chancellor asked you to watch over me, but this is too much. I promise I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened.” You don’t know why you let that small detail split to Anakin. Perhaps you just wanted someone else to know that you weren’t fully healed from your past. You tried to do your best to hide it from the rest of your team, only Chione being the most knowledgeable on the subject.

“I’m not going to leave you. It’s late and you should be heading back to your apartment. I came to pick you up. Gido said you hadn’t arrived home yet and that I could find you here.”

You sighed at Anakin’s response. There were a few moments of silence before you began speaking again. “I’m sorry. You’re just being a decent person, and I’m here trying to push you away. I don’t mean it.” You took a deep breath, “I just get in a weird headspace whenever I’m practicing sometimes.”

Anakin didn’t want to pry, but he could tell there was a deeper meaning behind your words.

You started speaking before your brain could even comprehend what you were saying. You were desperate to let out all of your negative feelings. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough sometimes? Like the whole world is waiting for you to trip and fall?” You glanced at Anakin with glassy eyes.

You continued to tirade. “I know my life may look glamorous, and it is. But no one ever talks about the dark side of being in the public eye, especially as a female. They treat you as if you’re some spectacle for their entertainment as if you’re not a living being with consciousness and feelings. Even those who are supposed to be there for you end up on the same side as the critics and haters.” Your chest was now heaving up and down as a result of your heightened emotion. “Even when I work my ass off to be perfect, so I can meet their standards and so they can finally shut the kriff up, they find another thing to comment on just to tear me down.”

“Yes, I understand the feeling.” And Anakin truly did understand. Anakin wanted to comfort you, he felt empathetic as he watched you cry. Do you remember how I told you how I joined the Jedi at a later age than most?” You nodded as you sniffled. “The Jedi council didn’t want to take me in at first…but Qui-Gon convinced them to take me in because he saw potential in me, potential as the Chosen one. Master Qui-Gon died before he had the chance to train me, so his Padawan, my former master, requested that he take me up as his Padawan. No Padawan had ever been trained at such a young age, but the council accepted his wish as a dying request from Qui-Gon.” Anakin still recalls that day–he was waiting outside the council’s room–in wonder at the grand pillars of the Jedi Temple. It was so grandiose and had a sense of holiness, two things he never witnessed on Tatooine.

“I had to work twice as hard as the other younglings to get up to speed. Most of them already had years of experience with the Jedi, they knew how to properly wield the force and the Jedi scriptures were ingrained into their beings by that point. Eventually, I surpassed the younglings and surpassed the expectations of the council. But even then, the council has never fully trusted me. I feel they’re always scrutinizing me, watching for my next mistake too. I’m not the most conventional Jedi, and I don’t always play by the books, but I’m a Jedi through and thorough. No matter how many times I prove that the council, or even my former master, they don’t believe in me. We’ve been fighting this war for Maker knows how long, and they still refuse to make me master, despite being the poster boy for this war.”

“Wow, Anakin…I didn’t expect that from you.” You honestly didn’t expect to find yourself relating to Anakin, you were on completely different sides of society. How could you, a pop star, relate to a Jedi? It comforted you in a way, to know that you weren’t the only person to go through feelings of inadequacy and frustration. “How do you deal with it?”

“When I was a Padawan in training, I didn’t deal with it most healthily. I was snarky (he still is), and rebelled against my master’s teachings. I was stubborn, hoping that if I showed off my power, I could finally be appreciated by the council. I was wrong to do that, it’s how I lost my right arm.” Anakin then slipped off his glove to show you the silver mechanical prosthetic. You gasped, not expecting to learn this information. Anakin continued, “I still like to show off, but as I matured, I realized that I didn’t have to define myself by the approval of others. I know that I am capable, and I will keep working hard until the council recognizes that.”

“You don’t deserve that. I know we only just met, but I’ve only heard remarkable things about you. The Republic wouldn’t stand a chance against the Separatists against you. I mean no offense to the other Jedi, they’re all vital to the war effort too, but we need someone who takes risks and isn’t afraid to be unorthodox. I don’t know much about the Jedi, but I know one day you’ll make a great Master.”

This heart-to-heart chat with Anakin was unexpected but welcomed. You appreciated that he was honest and open with you–someone who was practically a stranger still. He didn’t have to come all this way to pick you up nor did Anakin need to comfort you in an hour of need, but he did. However, Anakin didn’t let the conversation marinate too long, suddenly embarrassed at the information he shared with you.

Anakin stood up from the ground and reached his hand toward you. You accepted his hand and Anakin pulled you up as well. “Are you feeling better now?”

Despite the dried tear marks on your face and the incoming headache you were about to face, you told Anakin that you did feel better. You weren’t ready to divulge your entire past with Anakin just yet, but maybe one day the two of you could become friends. Did that count as an attachment? You weren’t sure.

“Let’s get you home, pop star.”

“Thanks, General.”

The second instance with Anakin was in an unconventional situation, but it brought a smile to your face when you recalled it. It was only the fifth day of him being assigned as your bodyguard. The incident at the practice room happened on his third day there. You wanted to speak to him more after that night, but you found yourself pulled in all directions by your management team. You supposed you should be thankful–you promised to stay away from Anakin. The only issue is that you didn’t want to stay away from him anymore.

Anakin walked into your living room after talking with Obi-Wan through his commlink. Obi-Wan was updating Anakin on his most recent diplomatic mission on a nearby planet. A heated conversation was taking place between you and Gido.

“You’re being ridiculous! It’s not even that scary and you can’t keep on relying on others to transport you places,” Gido said as he pinched his nose with a hand, a look of frustration on his face.

“Of course I can! I’m rich. I can just hire chauffeurs!” you taunted in reply. You knew your argument wasn’t sound, but you just wanted to vex Gido at this point. Deep down, you knew your manager was right.

“What about when you’re old and retired? Who’s going to help you then? Certainly not I. I’ll be dead!” He pointed an accusatory finger at you.

A glare embraced your face at Gido’s words. You scoffed before turning your body, not realizing that Anakin entered the room. He had to stop sneaking in like that. Those damn Jedi.

Anakin looked at you two with a curious look. Having joined the conversation toward its end, Anakin did not know what you two were talking about. Heat ran up your neck and toward your face as Gido explained with a deadpan expression.

“My dear friend here does not have her Republic driving license, despite being an adult. I’ve been telling her to get her license for years, but she always manages to procrastinate. And every time I tell her, she brushes me off her shoulder.” He pointed at you with an accusing thumb.

With a high-pitched tone, you defended yourself, “I know how to drive!... Sort of. Look, I just don’t like driving. The skylanes are always chaotic and the last time I visited the Ministry of Transport, it took me hours to update my identification and the workers were extremely rude. I’m not going back there if I don’t have to!”

“And I keep telling her, she needs to get her license. Kid, don’t be stubborn. Wouldn’t you feel more independent if you could drive around yourself?”

“Oh, stop bullshitting me, Gido. You just don’t want to drive me around because you hate the sky lanes as much as I do!” It was true. Gido groaned and mumbled every time he had to drive you places, complaining that he wouldn’t need to take you to run your errands if you had your own license. You couldn’t help it–you enjoyed dragging Gido along and you knew he secretly enjoyed spending time with you.

Anakin had a solution to both of your problems. Driving was one of his fortes. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would disagree, but Anakin knew he was the best pilot in the galaxy. Yes, Anakin could be reckless, but there was never a landing or move he couldn’t pull off. The innate talent he had as a young boy flourished when he moved to Coruscant and began his Padawan training. Having access to much more refined and newer technology allowed Anakin to perfect the craft of piloting.

“I can teach you how to drive. I’m the best pilot in the galaxy.” The seriousness on Anakin’s face indicated that he wasn’t joking.

You gulped. The heating sensation returned. You began to shake your head from side to side with wide eyes. Your hands moved in front of you as if to mimic the movement of your head, waving off Anakin’s solution.

“I don’t think that necessary,” you protested.

“Actually, I think it’s very necessary. Only the Maker knows how long you’ll push this off. Anakin, would you mind doing this favor? I have a few meetings with the company, we need to finalize the last details for the benefit. Feel free to use her airspeeder parked outside–it’s one of the newest models,” Gido stated.

Anakin grinned. He really did miss his yellow Eta-2 Starfighter, but he would never deny the chance to operate new technology.

That’s how you found yourself outside sitting in a neatly parked J12 Twin-pod on your apartment’s landing platform. The airspeeder belonged to you, though you’d never driven it before. The airspeeder was one of the newer models on the market. The surface was wrapped with a special pink-tinted chrome wrap making the car look sleek and expensive. Gido, your chauffeur, and occasionally Chione, were the only people to ever drive it.

You looked out the window and saw Anakin approaching the passenger side of the airspeeder. “Karking hell, I’m really doing this,” you thought. You detested driving. It made your palms sweaty and shot your nervous system. To make matters worse, you would be stuck in the confined airspeeder with Anakin! So much for trying to keep your proximity from him. You were both scared and embarrassed. Here was Anakin, the most famous Jedi at the moment, teaching pathetic you how to properly drive. Surely he had much better, more important things to do–like lead a war planning meeting or something.

The passenger door opened, and Anakin effortlessly climbed into the passenger seat and sat down. Your back stiffened, and suddenly the airspeeder seemed tighter. You shot an uneasy glance toward Anakin, who only smiled in excitement.

After the other night in the dance room where you had that conversation with Anakin, you felt less apprehensive around him. He was more human to you and less of a mysterious figure, less of a pretty face who made you nervous. You still found yourself mousy and internally reeling in his presence, but Anakin was becoming akin to a friend. You started conversing more during mealtimes, slowly getting to know each other.

“Alright, pop star, first we’re going to start with the controls. You have to fire up the engine by flipping this red switch. After the flip is switched, check your mirrors to ensure you can view directly behind and on your sides. Be careful with your blind spots. You don’t want to get rear-ended because you forgot to check for it. Coruscant sky lanes are no joke. With an airspeeder as pretty as yours, I’d hate to see it get destroyed. ” Anakin pointed toward a red button near the right side of the console, located next to the steering gear. “You got that?” Anakin questioned with one eyebrow raised.

Once again, Anakin felt your energy through the force. It was way calmer compared to the first day, but he could still feel your energy buzzing. Perhaps you realized that his presence was nothing to fear.

“Go on. Turn it on,” Anakin commanded. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when you heard the baritone voice command you. It reverberated several times in your head. Anakin’s voice was manly, and extremely attractive. You felt jealous that his soldiers got to hear that voice every day.

You reached toward the switch and flipped it upward with a shaky hand. The airspeeder lit up from inside, indicating it had come to life. There wasn’t an initial turbo–this was one of the main features of this model. It was supposed to fly seamlessly through the air. You placed your hands on each side of the steering gears. Not knowing what to do next, you looked at Anakin for guidance.

Anakin stood up to stand directly behind you. He reached out his arms and placed his hands on top of yours. He then leaned down to the side of your face and explained, “I’m going to show you how you properly place your hands on the steering gear and how to move it while you’re driving.” Anakin moved your hands toward the middle of the gear.

“Have a tight grip on the gear. The tighter the grip, the more control you have over the speeder. The higher sky lanes get more wind traction, so it’s especially important to have control in those lanes.” You nodded to show you were following. Anakin suddenly turned the gear harshly to the left, “Don’t do what I just did. When you turn the gear harshly, you jerk the speeder. If you’re switching lanes or turning a corner, switch on your indicators so other drivers know which way you’re going.” Of course, Anakin never followed his own advice, but for your sake, he played it by the books.

It all felt too intimate. Your head was in a rush, which probably wasn’t the best state to be in while you were about to drive. Anakin’s hands engulfed yours. The difference between his callused hands and your perfectly manicured hands drove you crazy. You could see the veins exposed on his ungloved hand. The sight of the green veins made your stomach turn warm. Much like his face, Anakin’s hand was sculpted by the Maker themself. Not even the finest marble statues could compare to the piece of art that was Anakin Skywalker.

“...Lastly, when you’re making a turn, do not turn the gear all the way around. The speeder has a built-in function that automatically rotates it. If you turn it all the way, you’ll make a sharp turn, ruining the internal tachyon drive regulator. Do you think you can handle this? Gido told me about the last time you tried to drive.” The last time you tried to drive, it resulted in several fines and almost caused a crash–the tabloids were on your ass for weeks after that.

You completely spaced out while Anakin was speaking, too focused on your inner thoughts. Hearing the teasing tone of his voice brought you back. You hated being undermined. You would prove to Anakin, and Gido, that you can drive perfectly fine and that you have nothing to be scared of.

“I can you assure that not only can I handle this, but you’ll be amazed at how quickly I learn,” you sassed Anakin back. You were lying. You couldn’t handle this, yet you couldn’t look like a ditz in front of Anakin.

“Let’s start flying. Don’t be nervous. I’m right here if you need me.”

Anakin sat back in his seat and observed you as you started maneuvering the aircraft. He directed you toward a sky lane to merge into. “I’m going to guide you to a specific path where the air traffic isn’t so busy. It should be easier for you to fly since there isn’t as much chaos.”

You kept a strong grip on the steering gear. Coruscant Prime, Coruscant’s only sun, was shining bright. The Weather Control Network did a splendid job at keeping Coruscant’s weather optical today–it wasn’t too windy and the sky was clear. You took it as a positive sign.

The airspeeder flew steadily through the air. Anakin was surprised. The way Gido described your driving, he assumed that he would need to take control of the speeder earlier. You weren’t doing a terrible job so far. Aside from the occasional jerk or harsh turn, you managed not to crash so far.

Maybe Anakin thought too soon. “Watch out! Watch out to your right!,” Anakin exclaimed. You tried switching lanes, but the speeder behind you wasn’t slowing down to let you in. You narrowly avoided an accident at the last second by going back into your lane.

“Oops–I didn’t mean that,” you said with a giggle and a shrug of your shoulders. “How am I doing so far?”

“You’re not doing too bad, with some more practice, you should be able to get your license in no time. Why do you hate driving so much?”

While still focusing on the sky in front of you, you explained to Anakin, “I love Coruscant and all that it has to offer. But the sky lanes in Bar’leth are much calmer and less congested. I grew up used to that. Even after all these years of living here, I still can’t stomach the driving here. It’s horrendous! I much prefer to have someone else drive, that way the pressure won’t be on me. I know Gido’s right, I need my license, but can you blame me? We’ve already witnessed almost two accidents! How did you get so good at flying?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a pilot since I was a little boy. I used to tinker in the garage, building and modifying parts for my own podracer. I even won the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine,” answered Anakin.

“Why did you want to become a pilot?” you wondered. Anakin seemed like like an intentional type of person–his actions, thoughts, and opinions were direct reflections of him and what he felt inside.

Not many people outside of the Jedi temple knew Anakin’s true origins–that he was a former slave. The first ten years of his life were filtered solely through this lens, it came to impact much of his opinions on life, politics, and society. He didn’t like speaking about it and avoided the topic as much as he could. Anakin hated his life as a slave and he hated slavery with every fibre of his being. However, Anakin especially hated speaking about this past life now because every time he did, he was reminded of how he willingly chose to leave his mother on Tatooine. Anakin felt like he was the reason she died. He wasn’t strong enough or fast enough to save her from the Tuskens, but maybe, just maybe, if he stayed with his mother instead of leaving with Qui-Gon, Shmi Skywalker’s death could have been avoided.

Anakin didn’t respond to your question. When you looked at him, his face was scrunched up in a deep thought.

You were about to say something else when you saw something approaching the speeder from the corner of your eye. You quickly glanced to your left, only to spot a human male nearly hanging off the side of his airspeeder with a cam held up to his eye. You groaned out loud which caught Anakin’s attention. They came at the worst time possible. You were trying to learn how to drive for Kriff’s sake!

“The paparazzi are following! Can’t they just leave me alone” you ranted. You needed them to get off your trail, fast. You had a complex relationship with the paparazzi. You hated the way they invaded your privacy and fed the Holonet tabloids with material to gossip about. For every bad picture, outrageous rumor, and leaked news, there was a paparazzi behind it. They caused you so much pain. At the same time, the very nature of your career relied on the paparazzi to dispel news and reveal your current state of affairs through pictures. They were unofficial members of your public relations team. Every celebrity knew that they needed the paparazzi as much as they hated them. You couldn’t imagine what ridiculous headline they would come up with now.

The man got closer and closer to your speeder as he tried to record you on his cam. He was mere inches away from crashing into the side of your speeder. You started to panic and your hands lost your tight grip as you started to tremble. Even the slightest movement to the left would cause a crash, potentially sending both of your speeders tumbling below.

“Anakin, what do I do? I don’t know what to do! They’re too close,” you yelped. Any closer and the paparazzi’s camera would touch your speeder’s window.

“Stay calm, pop star. I got this.” Anakin’s tone was cocky. He had something up his sleeve. This wasn’t his first high-speed chase, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. Anakin switched into General mode. His hands swiftly moved across the dashboard as he pressed a multitude of buttons and flipped several switches.

“What are you doing?!” You hated how high-pitched your voice sounded, the fear slipping out of your voice a squeak.

“Relax. I’m just taking control of the speeder. This speeder model is programmed so that in case of emergencies, the co-passager can take control of the speeder and drive it.” A panel opened on the console and an additional steering gear emerged into view. Anakin gripped the gear and turned it to the right. The speeder lurched to the right, putting more distance between you and the paparazzi.

No longer needed to grip the gear, you turned toward Anakin and shielded yourself by facing your back toward the window. The Holo Net wouldn’t be getting anything out of you today. Those insatiable nerfhurders had no boundaries sometimes.

“You better hold on tight. Things are about to get bumpy.” The only way to get these paparazzi off your trail was by speeding up and losing them in the endless zigzags of Coruscant. Anakin wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety. He felt his fingertips buzzing with anticipation–the past few rotations with you have been enjoyable and peaceful, but he needed an outlet for his energy. Ever since the Clone Wars started, Anakin was constantly on the go, so his body and mind were accustomed to this. Fortunately for Anakin, flying was the best outlet for him.

“What do you mean? Anakin, I’m begging you. Please don’t do anything crazy. I get motion sick-” Your words were cut off as the speeder accelerated. “ANAKIN!!!,” you screamed. You then quickly shut your eyes again. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene in front of you. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Anakin was driving significantly faster than what was allowed by the law.

The speeder weaved in and out of lanes. At one point, Anakin squeezed in between two speeders before hitting the turbo boosters. The paparazzi were still hot on your trail, but at least they were no longer directly next to you. You finally opened your eyes and saw that you were nearing the retail district, CoCo Town. Suddenly, the speeder nosedived toward the ground and you tightly clung to the gear in front of you for stability. The paparazzi were still chasing you, their speeder also diving below.

“Anakin do you have to be so reckless?!,” you shouted as Anakin laughed.

“My apologies–it was either that or let the paparazzi stalk you. Which one did you prefer? I didn’t have time to ask while you were panicking,” he replied in a sarcastic tone. You were about to rebuttal, but Anakin continued talking. “As soon as I land this on the ground, we��re going to get out and run. Let’s try to lose them in the crowd.”

The speeder lowered onto the ground and Anakin quickly parked the vehicle on a landing platform where several other speeders were parked. The doors unlocked and you both quickly stepped out. Before you could even completely step off, Anakin grabbed you by your waist and lowered you onto the ground. He then grabbed your hand and started running in the opposite direction of the speeder. You looked behind you, only to see the paparazzi had caught up and were now looking for you. After a quick scan, one of their eyes caught yours and they looked toward each other before running in the same direction as you and Anakin.

You could barely think about the paparazzi chasing you down as your mind relished the feeling of Anakin’s hands engulfing your waist. Anakin was a statuesque man, it made sense that his hands would be the same. Your skin burned at the touch. You shook your head to wane off the thoughts and redirect your focus in front of you.

Anakin’s back was facing you, his wide shoulders moving up and down as you ran through the crowds together. His curls bounced with each step. You apologized to each person you bumped into, slightly embarrassed to be in a situation like this. Why did this have to happen to you? Couldn’t they have picked another celebrity to torment today? You heard from the jogan fruit vine that the Holodrama actress Alexis Cov-Prim was getting out of rehab today. Wouldn’t that be a juicer headline than you learning how to drive? You already had one bad story from driving, you didn’t need another.

Anakin made a sharp turn around and corner and dragged you into a store named “Madame Acantha’s Emporium.” You kept your head low as Anakin greeted the storekeeper. You didn’t want to risk being recognized again. As you looked around and observed the store, you noticed the store sold a variety of womenswear from dresses to accessories. Anakin scanned the store for any suspicious figures before turning towards you.

“Grab something to disguise yourself with. We can’t stay in here forever.” You started browsing through the racks of clothes, pulling out a large knitted sweater before walking over to the accessory area and picking out a pair of daytime spectacles and a vibrant magenta wig with a bob cut. Anakin couldn’t disguise himself as he was too big for the clothing sold here. That didn’t matter as long as you could disguise yourself.

You quickly walked over to the changing rooms before switching out your outer layer for the sweater. After putting on the sweater, you grabbed the only elastic on your wrist and tied your hair so the wig could fit on. Once the wig was secured on your head, you put on the daytime spectacles and walked out of the changing rooms. You rushed towards the cashier and quickly asked her to ring up the transaction before throwing your credit chip on the counter. The employee, a humanoid woman of a species you couldn’t name, quickly rang up the transaction before handing you a receipt and bidding you a good day.

You turned towards Anakin and asked, “Does this look alright? Do I look like myself?”

Anakin stepped closer to you and grabbed the sides of your face. He slipped some of the wig’s hair through his fingers before adjusting it so it sat properly on your head. His fingers lingered for a second before he nodded. “I can’t even recognize you. Let’s go before they catch up.”

Anakin walked out of the store first and scoped the street. He looked left and right before quickly going back inside. He grabbed you and shoved the both of you behind the first rack of clothes he saw. You were about to protest when you saw the two men from earlier, the one who was recording had his camera by his side. They went up to the shopkeeper at the cashier and began to converse with the lady, most likely asking her if she had seen anyone with the same description as you. While they were distracted, you and Anakin looked at each other and secretly decided to make a run for it.

You both ran out of the store and into an alleyway nearby. You saw the paparazzi running past the alleyway as you were catching your breath. Then, you started to giggle. The whole situation was absurd. You, standing in an alleyway, with a bright wig and sunglasses–obviously a terrible disguise–and Anakin Skywalker, the most famous Jedi at the moment, dressed in all of his Jedi garb with his lightsaber attached at the hilt.

“What are you laughing at?,” Anakin asked, one of his perfectly shaped eyes arched. You must have looked crazy.

“I’m laughing at the situation. I look like a clown,” you replied. “Let’s go, I’m hungry after all that running and chasing. Let’s get something to eat–my treat.” You then walked out of the alleyway together. Before you stepped into the public view, you turned towards Anakin, “Thank you, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done without you to save the day.” You gave Anakin a look of genuine gratefulness.

The both of you proceeded in the direction of the shops.

“Come on, pop star. I know a great diner that my old master loves. It’s called Dex’s Diner. Have you ever been there before?” Anakin asked.

The both of you arrived at Dex’s Diner and proceeded to order half the menu. You spent hours in the diner, the both of you enjoying each other’s company after the crazy events of the day.

You spent the same evening replaying all of the times Anakin touched you and how each touch made you feel.

You decided it was time to get out of your head and back into the present. If you stayed in the sonic tub any longer, you wouldn’t have enough time to get ready without feeling rushed. You stood up from the sonic tub and grabbed the plush white robe sitting on the table next to it. You then put the robe on and walked toward the mirror.

You grabbed the brush and started brushing through your hair to ensure that any tangles and knots were out. After deciding your hair was neat enough, you put the brush down and started moisturizing your body with your favorite lotion. You would let your hair air dry until you figured out how you wanted to style it. The lotion was made from the musk-rose plant and mixed with tiny hints of vanilla. When you were done moisturizing your body and applying your skincare, you walked out of the room and into the closet directly in front of the refresher.

To say your closet was huge is an understatement. When you finally earned enough credits to afford a high-rise apartment, the one thing you told your realtor was that you would not compromise on a small closet. The closet was lined with shelves and racks, each holding either your clothes or your shoes. In the middle of the closet sat an island, constructed with cream-yellow Selonian marble, that stored all of your accessories. A floor-to-ceiling mirror and lounging chaise were perched at the far corner of the room. You walked over to the shelf that held your dresses and began to sift through them. You felt the soft silks, thin taffetas, and the gorgeous gemwebs of your collection.

“Aha,” you muttered as your hand finally landed on the gown you were looking for. The gown, designed by one of the most in-demand fashion ateliers, was a floor-length, demicot silk-lined tight velvet black gown with a curved necklace. The upper half of the gown was pale pink and covered in a multitude of tiny sequins and pearl studs. One shoulder extended out into the shape of a single petal, which was also fabricated with sequins and pearls. You paired it with a pair of black gloves that extended to your mid-bicep. The dress was as much haute as it was a piece of wearable art. If there was one thing you loved about being wealthy, it was the clothes.

You laid your evening gown on the chaise before traveling to your vanity and beginning on your makeup. Since the gown was extravagant in itself, you decided that a more subtle makeup look would complement the overall look more. You wanted people to focus on the gown and all its intricacies and craftsmanship. After glossing your lips with a matching shade of pink, you finished your makeup and moved on to your hair. You settled on a suitable hairstyle and allowed your loose face-framing layers to enhance the shape of your face.

You looked at yourself in the mirror once more before deciding you were ready to go. You walked out of your room and towards the living where Anakin was waiting for you.

To be continued...

(Here is a link to the dress, which was designed by Miss Sohee. One thing I love about the SW universe is the fashion, so I wanted to include a dress that reflected that. Like, come on. Have you seen Padme’s and Satine’s outfits?)

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

#kendra's works !!!#anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars anakin #star wars #star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #tcw anakin #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalkwer x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin fanfiction #hayden christensen #darth vader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you

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99tech99 · 7 months ago

Text

PRESENTING MY FIRST FANFIC/SMUT PIECE!!

guys, i am so excited about this!! it is sooo self indulgent but im really proud of how it turned out.

it was inspired by this picture and the thot of biting off krennic’s glove so he can finger fuck you at his desk.

my friend told me i was unhinged to be jealous of an inanimate object, but o well 😅

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI GO AWAY, super self indulgent sorry not sorry, finger fucking, p in v, unprotected sex, age gap, a little bit of degradation, a little bit of possession, a hint of voyeurism at the end

like i said, this is my first attempt at this, so i would be very thankful for any and all types of feedback!

1.9k words under cut!

Krennic was getting annoyed with you, but it was hardly your fault. He had promised he would leave the office four hours ago and it was now three hours past your dinner reservation, yet he showed no sign that he was finished handling the day’s business. You could always give up on the evening, retire to your quarters, and hang up the exquisite gown you purchased for the occasion. But his all-consuming work with Stardust had kept Krennic away from the capital for months. There was no way you would voluntarily remove him from your sight.

And so you stayed, making yourself at home in the luxurious sitting area of Krennic’s office, getting ahead on your own work for the next week, replying to comms, and sifting through through the Imperial files Krennic had sent you that he thought would be of interest to you in your role as Senator of Kuat.

But you had finished that an hour ago. You had sighed and paced and poured yourself a drink and watched the sun sink below the Coruscant skyline as the city planet came alive with the night. You threw yourself down petulantly on the chaise lounge with yet another exasperated sigh. A clearing of his throat alerted you that your behavior was wearing thin on Krennic’s patience.

You studied the man before you. Even being in the same room with Krennic was intoxicating. Highly intelligent, unmatched aspiration, sharp wit, electric blue eyes, silver hair…even the way he took that silly Imperial cape so seriously. Yes, he did have a temper and dealt ruthlessly with his enemies, but Stardust was indispensable to the fate of the galaxy. Half measures could hardly be tolerated.

It was no wonder you had fallen for him. All in all, Director Orson Krennic was undeniably one of the most desirable men in the galaxy. And he was the only one for you.

You could take it no longer.

You headed straight to Krennic’s desk, and leaning against it, crossed your arms and scowled down at him. At long last his concentration broke and he glanced up at you with an eyebrow raised and a most dissatisfied glare on his face.

“Well?” you demanded.

He held your gaze for a moment longer. He gave no response but sighed heavily and returned his attention to his datapad and holofiles.

Anyone else in the galaxy might have withered at his reaction, but you weren’t anyone in the galaxy.

Smiling to yourself, you took his left hand off the desk and brought to your face. Krennic didn’t react, but continued to peruse his files as though you weren’t even there. You inhaled the scent of leather and briefly nuzzled your cheek into the soft material. Slowly, you brought your mouth down onto his thumb, swirling your tongue around the digit and down onto his palm before grazing gently up with your teeth, pulling his thumb it out of your mouth with a soft pop.

You gave him a covert sidelong glance. Krennic had almost imperceptibly shifted his position in his chair, but otherwise he was working as diligently as before. Absolutely aware of the effect you were having on him, you smirked internally. You bit the tip of the glove and began to work it off his thumb with your teeth. You did the same with his index finger, and middle finger, making your way down his hand until his hand was bare. You let the glove drop from your mouth to the floor.

You placed yourself on the edge of Krennic’s desk as he continued to type a memo with his right hand. Taking advantage of your gown’s high slit you spread your thighs and guided Krennic’s fingers into your slick folds.

At long last he reacted. By gods how this man knew your body. Slowly and methodically he curled his index and middle fingers inside you, reaching the very spot he knew you craved most. You angled your hips upward, willing him to reach deeper still. You fought to keep your breathing steady as he increased his pace and pressure inside you. The sound of Krennic’s fingers sliding in and out of your wet cunt echoed through the silent office. Your breaths were shallow and uneven now. The challenge of trying to remain quiet while Krennic was composing a memo somehow only made you wetter.

You gasped as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bit your lip to keep yourself from crying out. As his thumb continued to trace circles over your bud you felt a heat rising in your core. You closed your eyes and tried to keep yourself from cumming too quickly. You wanted to savor this pleasure but you were close, so close…

Suddenly he withdrew his fingers. You whined in protest at the emptiness. Your eyes snapped open to see Krennic standing in front of you.

“Well, my dear, you certainly have been disruptive this evening,” he said in a severe tone.

“I’ve said exactly one word,” you replied icily, trying to catch your breath. “Now that you’re finished ignoring me, am I to assume you’re done with work?”

Krennic looked down at his left hand.

“It would hardly seem I’ve ignored you.” He looked back at you and brought fingers to his mouth to clean them of your juices.

“However, there is one matter left I have left to attend to.”

Before you could open your mouth to protest he had pulled you into a fierce kiss. You opened your mouth and tasted yourself on his tongue. The bulge of erection pressed against you. Krennic tugged the straps of your gown over your shoulders exposing your tits. Krennic took one of your breasts in his mouth and the other in his hand. You shuddered as his tongue and fingers played over your nipples. You shrugged off the dress entirely, letting it pool on the floor at your feet.

“Oh I missed you,” you sighed.

Your hands groped for his belt and fumbled with the fastenings of his pants. You felt his erection become even more rigid under your touch. You ran your hand up and down his length with all the firm pressure you knew he could take.

Krennic took half a step back to drink in the sight of you, naked and yearning before him. “Oh, you’re beautiful,” Krennic murmured. You grabbed him by the shoulders of that ridiculous cape of his, pulling his lips to back to yours. Your kisses became sloppy and needy. He unbuttoned his tunic as you continued to kiss his mouth, jaw, neck, anywhere your lips could reach. “Fuck me,” you demanded.

He chucked softly. “Fuck you what?”

“Fuck me now!” you insisted.

“No…” He teased your clit with the tip of his cock which already dripping with precum. “Orson, please” you whimpered.

Any restraint he had earlier in the evening was gone at the sound of his name tumbling from your lips. You inhaled sharply as he sank his cock into you. “Always so tight for me,” he moaned. Aroused as you were, you needed a moment to adjust to his girth, but he didn’t give you a moment. With his hands holding firmly around your hips, he groaned with each rapid thrust into your pussy.

You placed your hands on the edge of the desk to brace yourself. The pain of the stretch quickly gave way to the ecstasy of how perfectly he filled you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you arched your back and tilted your hips so Krennic’s cock hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust.

“What a display,” Krennic smirked as his eyes traveled down your body from your tits to his dick inside you. “The little Senator whoring herself out to the Imperial Director.”

“Don’t act so superior,” you countered breathlessly. “You’re the one coming halfway across the galaxy for my pussy.”

He leaned forward and nipped your earlobe. “Mmm, not cumming yet darling.”

He continued to pound his dick into your dripping wet heat. He fully laid you down onto his desk and leaned into you. The last vestiges of your composure were slipping. You wound your fingers through his hair and bit down on his shoulder, wondering how much longer you could keep whatever semblance of quiet you were maintaining.

“Go on,” Krennic instructed as though reading your mind. “There won’t be anyone in the corridor to hear you. And if there is,” he smiled triumphantly, “I want them to know what I do to you.”

Your cries quickly became louder and more desperate. “Orson, I’m so close” you gasped.

His pace never slackened. “I know exactly how close you are,” he managed to pant. “And why is that?”

“I’m yours.”

“What’s mine?” he promoted.

“My cunt.”

“Mhmm, my cunt,” he affirmed. His thumb found your clit again, applying a steady circular pressure.

That was all it took to push you over the edge. Your walls contracted around his thick cock as the waves of your orgasm washed over you, leaving you gasping for breath.

Krennic groaned at the added stimulation as you came, but never broke his pace. In the afterglow of your orgasm, you felt yourself getting overstimulated. You squirmed under his thumb. “Too much” you choked.

“My cunt,” Krennic repeated. “I’m done with you when I am done.”

You felt yourself growing lightheaded as another orgasm threatened to overtake you. Krennic’s breathing was ragged as his technique became sloppier.

“Cum for me,” you begged.

On principle he resisted, trying to hold back, but you knew him too well to let him get away with that.

“Orson, cum with me.”

Almost instantly you felt his release at the same time your orgasm ripped through your body. Your cries and his intermingled as he continued to fuck you through your high. He gave a few last thrusts as your body became limp.

He planted a tender kiss on your forehead, an affection he rarely bestowed. “You are kriffing magnificent,” he said as he straightened up.

“So you did miss me,” you teased. “It was difficult to tell.”

Krennic smiled wistfully as he helped you get unsteadily to your feet. “And I’ll be missing you again much too soon. Tarkin has summoned me to Jedha on the next rotation. Saw and his rebels must be made an example of.”

The dismay you felt at the news Krennic was leaving almost immediately was quickly replaced by excitement.

“Are you testing —”

“I can’t say,” he interrupted.

Your face shone with anticipation. “You will,” you assured him. “And it will be a rousing triumph. Tarkin, Thrawn, anyone who ever doubted Stardust will put to shame in the midst of your achievement.”

“Thank you darling. But until tomorrow I just need to focus on you. Come home with me and let’s have a repeat performance.”

You slipped your gown back on and Krennic reassembled his uniform.

The two of you made your way to the office door. When it opened you were both face to face with Brierly Ronan who had clearly been trying to eavesdrop. You fought back a laugh.

“Assistant Director Ronan,” you exclaimed brightly. “Late evening for you?” He glared daggers at you.

“Director, I —” he began.

“Not now, Ronan. You can see I am otherwise engaged. Or perhaps you heard?”

Ronan flushed.

“We can speak on the way to the rendezvous with Tarkin. Good night,” said Krennic dismissively.

With that you pulled Krennic by the hand toward the turbolifts. Only then did you realize his left hand was without a glove. You held up his hand.

“Missing something?” you asked with a coy smile.

He quickly pressed the back of your hand to his lips. “Well worth it, my dear.”

thank you for reading!!!

Back to the Master List

tagging some of the people who have interacted with my previous krennic posts or expressed interest in my writing:

@clonebrainrot @znerac @msjackson1073 @sinker003

and unsolicited tags of @zoeykallus and @spicy-clones i know this isnt clones, but you are both so talented and i love your writing so so much and seeing everything you post on here really gave me the inspiration and ovaries to write my own fic.

#star wars #star wars fan fiction #star wars smut #director krennic #orson krennic #krennic #krennic x reader #rogue one #first fanfic #star wars star whores #99tech99 writes

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