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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 8 months ago

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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 1

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader)Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 3631 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

(21 years old)

'All right, team,' Y/N Prince addressed her small group of young heroes. 'Good work today. Now go hit the showers and enjoy a nice quiet night in. You've earned it.'

'So crash!' Bart cried with an energetic jump. If anyone were to guess how the team's week had been solely based on Bart's energy, they would've said it had been cruisy. Not that Y/N had led a covert task force over the past week into Bialya to take down meta-human trafficking outposts.

Y/N watched with pride as Bart and Jaime bantered on their way out, followed by Stephanie and Cassie chatting excitedly about something, all the while Tim and Cassie held hands quietly. It had surprised the team a little how, out of the blue, the two of them were dating. But if Wally's death had taught them all anything, it was that time was too precious to waste in their line of work. They'd been together ever since.

Two years, Y/N mentally noted, and suddenly the adrenaline she'd been running on for the past week died as the last of the team exited the entrance chamber of the Watchtower. Exhaustion weighed down on her spent body, but an extra weight now sat in heart. Has it really been that long already?

So much had changed in that time. Like how the Young Justice began working out of the Watchtower alongside the Justice League, having both the Hall of Justice and Mount Justice destroyed by the Reach and the Light respectively. M'gann and Connor were back together, having finally gotten over their differences and accepted their mistakes. Also, Kaldur had been offered a position in the Justice League following the retirement of his king, and so Kaldur took his place as the new Aquaman in the Justice League. M'gann was promoted to new team leader, with Connor and Y/N assisting her as senior members of the team.

Some things had remained the same, however. Like the team's energy and slight dysfunction that always made Y/N feel at home. They weren't perfect, but what family ever is?

Dick was still gone. So was Artemis. She'd, understandably, retired as Green Arrow's protégé immediately after Wally's death, assuming her undercover identity Tigress instead and going off on her own. Neither had stayed in touch with anyone on the team.

You're my best friend. Always have been, always will be...

'Yeah right,' Y/N mumbled bitterly as she made her way to the conference room. No doubt that'd be where M'gann and Connor were waiting for her to debrief the mission.

Upon entering the room with the long table, she was immediately embraced by M'gann. 'Welcome back,' she said, squeezing Y/N tighter. 'We're so glad you're okay.'

Y/N smiled softly as she embraced M'gann in return. 'You ever doubted me?'

'No,' Connor answered, 'but you can never be too cautious right?'

Y/N let go of M'gann to hug Connor as well. Since getting back together, Connor wasn't as emotionally suppressed as he'd initially been. It was nice seeing him this way, more happy and free. The same effect had happened to M'gann, who (only around the team and the Justice League) revealed her white martian self proudly instead of pretending to be something she wasn't.

'You're right,' Y/N said as she released him, then the three of them took a seat to discuss the mission.

The debrief didn't take long, there wasn't much to report on as all out-posts had been hit successfully, putting Queen Bee's meta-human trafficking at least a little behind.

'It's not much, but it's the best we could do with the little information we got,' Y/N admitted. 'I dislike Queen Bee and her minions as much as the next person, but I've got to give it to her, she knows how to keep things under wraps.'

M'gann reached across from where she sat and closed her hand over Y/N's. 'Y/N, the mission was a success,' M'gann insisted. 'And what's most important is that you brought everyone home. Alive.'

Y/N heard the underlying fear in her words, the memory she was thinking of as she spoke them. Y/N twisted her hand over to clasp M'gann's in return. 'I know,' she said softly. 'But I just... we haven't so much as put a dent into the underbelly of meta-human trafficking in the two years it's been running. Somedays... Somedays I just feel so useless.'

'I know, Y/N,' Connor reassured. 'But we've just got to trust that our hard work will pay off eventually. I know it doesn't seem like much now, but every mission counts. Don't be so hard on yourself.'

Y/N withdrew her hand at the comment, hastily standing up. 'Don't be hard on myself? My mother is Wonder Woman, is the Champion of Themyscira, a World War II hero, and had already saved the world once by my age now. My father was a fighter pilot in the Iran-Iraq war and died fighting for his country,' she said angrily. 'And what am I doing? Hiding under the protection of darkness, taking out small outposts that will just be rebuilt elsewhere just as quickly? How can I not be hard on myself?'

At M'gann's taken aback expression, Y/N felt slightly guilty for raising her voice. But they just didn't understand. All her life, she'd been training and fighting for her supposed "destiny". Surely this wasn't it.

'I'm sorry,' Y/N said, forcing herself to calm down. 'I just...'

'You don't have to a apologise,' M'gann interrupted, standing and walking over to Y/N to clasp their hands together. 'After all we've done together, I understand that what we do now doesn't seem like enough. But I can tell you were made for more.'

Y/N offered her a grateful smile and M'gann let their hands drop. 'I should go. Mother and I have patrol in Washington DC tonight.'

'Already?' M'gann asked, face dropping with disappointment. 'But you just got back. Surely she knows that.'

'Unfortunately, even in the country's capital, crime never sleeps. I'm just grateful it's nothing like Gotham,' Y/N said.

'I agree,' Connor said. 'Visited there once with-' He paused for a moment, eyes growing wary as he looked between Y/N and M'gann. But Y/N already knew what he was going to say and gave him a slight nod to continue anyway. 'With Dick. We did patrol once there together. To put it simply, they're all nutcases there.'

Y/N managed an amused half-smile. 'You're not wrong there,' she said, then made her way to the door. Before she reached the doorknob, M'gann called out.

'Maybe when you're free next, you can join us for dinner at home,' she offered, her eyes hopeful as she waited Y/N's answer.

'Yeah,' she eventually answered though it wasn't as enthusiastic as she should've been. 'Yeah, that'd be nice. I'll talk to you guys soon. Don't stay up here too late.'

It had to be close to 7pm in Washington DC at least, so there weren't many people still left in the Watchtower. Just those from the League and her team that were rostered for overnight supervision. Y/N made sure to greet each person she walked by on the way to the Zeta-tubes. But just as she was about to dial in her code to leave, a resounding voice made her pause.

'Wonderess,' Kaldur called. 'Not even a hello before you head off for another mission?'

Y/N smirked as she turned back around to face the new hero of Atlantis. 'I'm sorry, Aquaman,' she said in an exaggerated tone. 'Not all of us can sit around having team parties with our Justice League buddies.'

To anyone else, it would've been taken as an insult. But Kaldur saw her humour and smiled. 'Oh is that what this is about? You know the League do more than just chit chat.'

Y/N shook her head. 'I don't know. The mess you guys left behind in the conference room before I left tells another story.'

As Kaldur approached Y/N, the sarcastic banter dropped as they both embraced each other. Kaldur had grown into a fit, muscular man, and now stood a good head taller than Y/N. His uniform was more or less the same as it had always been, except now both his arms were covered from shoulder-to-finger in gold armour. He certainly was no longer just a young lad, but the man his predecessor saw he could become.

'It is good to see you, Y/N,' Kaldur said softly as he pulled away.

'And you, old friend,' Y/N replied, a genuine smile splitting her lips.

'I heard you went into Bialyan territory,' Kaldur continued. 'I am glad to see you and the rest of the team are unharmed.'

'Well, the team are no longer just children' Y/N said, 'but it was a simple enough mission too. Nothing too dangerous.'

Kaldur's brows furrowed together as he looked over Y/N. 'I sense you are not happy with something. Wasn't the mission successful as I have heard?'

Y/N let out a soft sigh. 'It's not that I'm not happy with the mission's success. Of course I'm happy we all got home okay. I just...' She didn't really feel like explaining herself again, but Kaldur nodded in understanding.

'You feel stuck,' he finished, to which Y/N nodded in confirmation. Kaldur turned so he could look to the giant windows of the Watchtower's entrance chamber. They framed Earth in a way that made it seem both ginormous and insignificant at the same time. 'The League is in a similar position, I am afraid to admit. Some days there is progress. Other days, it feels like I wait so much I am afraid I will freeze in one spot.'

'How do you combat that?' Y/N asked.

Kaldur turned back to Y/N, his face softened with a small smile. 'I train.'

'That's it?' Y/N asked, not quite believing her friend.

He shrugged his shoulders. 'Amongst other things, yes. I train, I go home, I see my family, I laugh with my friends. I do all these things to remind myself why I am here. Why I do what I do. It sounds to me like you need to remind yourself why you are here.'

'Because of the team,' she said without hesitation. He hadn't asked a question, but she felt she needed to justify herself. 'Because I can't just desert them, not when they're working so hard.'

'And yet you feel you are not doing enough,' Kaldur countered, his teal eyes gazing hard at her. 'Why?'

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but no answer came.

'Y/N,' Kaldur continued. 'Why do you feel the need to stay when you don't want to be there?'

'I do want to stay-'

'Don't lie to me, Y/N,' Kaldur interrupted.

Y/N swallowed thickly as she looked from Kaldur, to the conference room door where M'gann and Connor still were, and back to Kaldur. Seeing no escape from his fierce questioning, she caved.

'It's not that I don't want to stay,' she admitted quietly. 'I love the kids, I love the team. I'm just... so tired, Kaldur. Of doing the same thing week in and week out and getting nowhere. But if I leave, I don't want the team to think I'm abandoning them. Not like-'

Y/N bit her lip at the thought of him. No, she wouldn't leave. She just wouldn't.

Kaldur pressed his lips into a firm line. 'Dick needed to reforge his own path. He was grieving in his own way.'

'Well I was grieving, too,' Y/N countered, a sudden surge of anger flaring up inside her. How dare Kaldur defend Dick. 'And I had to get on with my life because the team needed me. We needed him, Kaldur. I needed him, and he just left.'

Y/N bowed her head to collect her thoughts and calm down. That's two friends she had yelled at for no reason. Before she could apologise though, Kaldur placed a hand on her shoulder, and she raised her head to find him looking directly into her eyes.

'I cannot say I am not also disappointed in our friend,' Kaldur admitted sadly. 'I did not expect him to become so closed off for so long. But you've helped rebuild this team from the grief and pain it experienced when Wally died. I think you've earned the right to decide where you go from here, Y/N, without feeling guilty or selfish if your wish is not to stay with the team. In my opinion, you were made for more than this.'

'That's funny,' Y/N said in a flat voice. 'You're the second person today to tell me that.'

'Maybe because it is true,' Kaldur said sincerely. 'You know you still have a place in the Justice League whenever you'd like to join us. I would be honoured and happy to fight alongside a warrior such as yourself again. It would be like old times.'

Y/N offered a grateful smile as she patted Kaldur's hand that still rested on her shoulder. 'Thanks Kaldur, but I'm not ready for that just yet. Besides, you don't need two Amazonians running the show. And let's be real, we would so be in charge of you boys.'

The two shared quiet laughter as Kaldur's hand retuned to his side. 'Very well, then. So what will your decision be, Wonderess?'

Y/N looked to the Earth and space beyond it once more. Her heart and head were tearing her in two. She truly loved being a part of the team, but something inside her agreed with M'gann and Kaldur. Surely she was meant for more. But what exactly that was, she had to go find out.

'I think you're right, Kaldur,' she finally said, turning back to face her friend. 'I think I need to remind myself why I am here in the first place. And that comes from knowing who I am to begin with.'

Kaldur's face pinched in slight confusion. 'I'm sorry, but I do not follow.'

Y/N didn't answer straight away. Instead, she turned to dial in her code to exit the Watchtower. 'B-00: Wonderess,' the computer announced as the Zeta-tube activated.

She then finally turned back to Kaldur. 'I need to know where I've been to then know where I will go,' she said. 'I need to go back to where it all started.'

'And where's that?' Kaldur asked.

'With my mother,' she answered, then spared him one last sweet smile. 'Tell M'gann and Connor and the team I'm sorry.'

Kaldur looked as if he wanted to say something, ask more questions. But Kaldur was always more insightful than the rest of their group. He didn't always need an explanation. He just somehow knew, and so Y/N was grateful when he accepted her words with a simple nod of his head.

'Be safe, dear friend,' he said in farewell. 'May destiny be kind to you, wherever it leads you.'

Y/N nodded her appreciation and entered the Zeta-tube. It was always a weird sensation travelling by Zeta-tube, like a million light pricks into every part of the body. Thankfully the trip was quick to the Zeta tube depot in Washington DC, with Y/N walking out of an abandoned janitor's closest in the post office down the road from her apartment.

She smiled and waved down to civilians as she flew over the busy streets, but she flew as fast as she could to the meeting point.

Her mother casually sat atop the Washington Monument as Y/N approached, floating just in front of her. 'I was starting to worry you had gotten caught in Bialya,' Diana joked as she stood to greet her daughter. 'Welcome home, my daughter.'

'Good to see you, Mother,' Y/N said, and the two briefly embraced.

'Now that you're here,' Diana said, prepping to take off for the usual patrol, 'why don't we get going.'

'Actually, Mother, there is something I wanted to talk to you about first,' Y/N interrupted.

Diana raised an eyebrow. 'Really? And what would that be?'

Y/N took a deep breath in before she spoke the words. But when she did, she had never been more sure. 'I want you to take me back to your home. To Themyscira.'

~~~

Since she was a little girl, Y/N had heard hundreds of stories from her mother about the homeland of the Amazons. How beautiful it was with its architecture, its nature, and the women who ruled the island. She'd always dreamed of someday going there, but her mother said it was impossible to find it.

Except she failed to mention that despite leaving the island and forgetting where it was located, Diana had been gifted a compass that would always lead her back home, but only if she used it. It would not work without Amazonian hands.

So after all the storytelling and all the dreaming, nothing came close to actually witnessing Themyscira in the flesh.

Y/N stood speechless on the beach, looking up at the steps that led up to the first level of the city that seemed to climb higher and higher towards the sky. It was something out of the Ancient Greek text books Diana used to make Y/N read as a child, but even more fantastical and wondrous.

It wasn't just the visuals, though. Since the Invisible Jet broke through the barrier that hid Themyscira, Y/N had felt a pull of sorts towards the island. Now that she stood on its soil, she felt a warm energy wash over her, strengthen her, pull her into its embrace as if to say, Welcome home at last.

An entourage of women in red leather slitted skirts, plated tops, and armour while holding spears followed behind a woman dressed in white and purple robes. Ebony hair billowed out behind her golden leaf crown, the grey strands in between looking more silver as they caught the midday sun.

Y/N knew immediately who she was. Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. Her grandmother.

As Hippolyta approached Y/N and Diana, she opened her arms to take her daughter's face into her hands. 'Diana,' she said, bringing her lips to her daughter's forehead in a simple kiss. 'Welcome home.'

'Thank you, Mother,' Diana said, and Y/N could tell by her mother's smile that she was joyous to be home. 'I'm sorry it took me so long.'

'Do not worry about that, child,' Hippolyta reassured. 'You are here now.'

She then looked over to Y/N, and for some reason Y/N straightened up, flattened out her Wonderess uniform, made sure her hair was tucked behind her headband. Y/N was briefly taken back to the time she (consciously) remembered meeting her grandparents on her father's side. All dressed up so as to make a good impression.

Y/N held her breath as Hippolyta walked slowly over to her, grey eyes scanning every inch of Y/N's figure in silence. When she'd done a cursory glance, she then stepped closer and took Y/N's face into her hands. Y/N was unable to look away from Hippolyta as the older woman caressed and poked and prodded at her features.

At last, Hippolyta stopped and her hands dropped to Y/N's shoulders. A kind, joyous smile graced the older woman's features. 'You have my daughter's eyes,' she said quietly, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. 'So kind and forthright. What is your name child?'

'Y/N Prince,' Y/N managed to get out once she caught her breath. 'Daughter of Steve Trevor...' Her gaze flickered to her mother, and the two shared a smile. '...and Diana Prince, Princess of Themyscira.'

Y/N looked back to see Hippolyta tearing up as realisation finally hit her. 'I have a granddaughter,' she said as she finally embraced Y/N completely, to which Y/N reciprocated and the entourage of Amazonians cheered and smashed their shields with their spears in celebration.

Hippolyta let go of Y/N to clasp one of her hands as she went to grab her daughter's hand. She then turned the three of them to face the crowd. 'My daughter and your champion, and my granddaughter have come home!'

More cheers erupted.

'Let us prepare a feast in their honour,' Hippolyta continued, and when the crowd began to disperse, she turned to Diana and Y/N to speak more quietly. 'I am sure you have both come here for a reason, and not just to say hello.'

'You are correct, Mother,' Diana said. 'It seems as though I have neglected our origins as Amazonians for too long and can no longer teach Y/N our ways.'

'I wish to learn who I am,' Y/N added. 'I wish to know where I come from, so that I may know where I must go next.'

'And how long do you believe that will take?' Hippolyta asked.

'As long as it takes,' Y/N answered, more certain than ever before. 'I don't care what I must do, Your Majesty. I will follow your guidance, as my mother once did.'

Hippolyta considered Y/N for a moment, then spared Diana an impressed smirk. 'Well, you taught her one thing, Diana.'

'What's that mother?' Diana asked.

'Your steadfast stubbornness.' Hippolyta looked back to Y/N. 'Very well, granddaughter. You will train among the other warriors. I just hope you know it won't be as easy as you might think.'

'Trust me,' Y/N replied, 'I'm hoping it isn't.'

Hippolyta's smile widened and her eyes sparkled with excitement. 'That attitude is already a good start. Come, we will talk of this later. First, let us celebrate this homecoming.'

That night Y/N ate and drank and danced among women like her, some older, some younger, some taller, some stronger. And she had never felt more at home, more recognised and celebrated. She'd had her doubts if she had made the right decision, but now she had no doubt.

She was where she belonged.

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targaryen-dynasty · 10 months ago

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THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE.

Antichrist!Aemond Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; dub con, p in v, fingering (with gloves 😮‍💨), dacryphilia, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, power imbalance, female reader

WORDS: 4.7 K

NOTES: Yes, this is based on American Horror Story Apocalypse. Michael Langdon is just so *phew* that I had to adapt it to Aemond. This is so self indulgent, I'm not even sorry. @kaelabear you're getting the special taglist. @arcielee thank you for beta reading this! <3

You have lost track of how many days, months, or even years have passed since your arrival in Outpost 3, and gods, you’d give it all right away to be back in one of the holding cells the government had put you in around the time the bombs rained down over King’s Landing.

Even though you received the status as a purple upon your arrival, therefore placing you to the upper-class elites specifically selected for survival, you couldn’t be worse off. At least there you’ve been allowed to do your own thing – as far as the confines allowed you to.

The nutritional cubes they serve you are rationed, with Ms. Misery announcing they’ll have to ration them even further in the next days, and on top of being hungry and bored, you haven’t had a good fuck in quite the while.

Sexual contact, or any kind of copulation, is strictly forbidden, and you’ve witnessed firsthand what it means to break Miserys’ rules – not that you’d make any moves on the other residents occupying the former exclusive boys school anyways.

It’s only been you and your hand, sometimes even your pillow, from the very beginning on until now, and truth be told? You’re sick of it.

At some point you’ve stopped getting yourself off, only because your body longed for physical contact, for someone else’s body on your own.

And what certainly doesn’t help with your misery is the mysterious man that arrived just a few days ago.

When he introduced himself as Targaryen, you knew his arrival was something that came partnered with power. As much as you would have liked to focus on his speech to campaign himself, you found it was far too difficult to care about humanity being on the brink of failure when the man telling you about it was so, so damn easy on the eyes.

Just the sight of his sharp features, regardless of a part of them being concealed by a black eyepatch, has been enough to make your mouth water. And when your eyes traveled lower, taking in the way his black slacks all but hugged his toned thighs, all was lost for you.

You’ve been grateful that Laenor pounced on him to be interviewed first, wanting to see if he'd be worthy enough to be relocated to the so-called sanctuary, because you certainly would have jumped Targaryens’ bones right then and there.

His alluring aura, the dominance radiating off of him – it all are factors that drive your aching body to insanity. and the nights that followed you found your relief more than once with the image of him flashing right before your eyes.

Some time has passed in which you’ve barely seen him around, only hearing of him through the stories of the other residents that have been interviewed by him; now it’s your turn to warm the large chair standing in front of the imposing Mahogany desk.

It’s the door behind you sliding open that lets your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from turning around. You don’t want to be caught staring in the first few seconds already.

You hear your name fall past his lips so smoothly it sends a shiver down your spine. You give in to the temptation and watch him step inside with an air of mellow gratification, prowling around the desk until he eventually sits down in the empty seat across from you.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he purrs, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye.

There comes no reply from you, instead you continue to fumble with your fingers, looking at what you assume to be your file splayed out on the desk in front of him.

It’s the dismissive hum that rumbles in his chest that finally piques your interest, and when your gaze settles on him again, you spot him touch his chin thoughtfully as his eye skimps over the pages, seeming as if he’s reading it for the first time.

The red gloves he wears stand in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless rest of his outfit, your gaze drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He has worn them upon his arrival already; the smooth leather shining in the dim light of the candles makes your mind wander to more indecent things.

He tilts his head up again to meet your gaze, his smooth and calming voice ringing out. “Your genetic profile would appear to be favorable, so you can say that this interview is solely conducted as a… precaution.” Though it’s meant to be reassuring, the deliberate pause he makes doesn’t seem convincing.

His words make you frown. “What for?” you ask, and you curse yourself for how blunt and bold your voice sounds. “Aren’t you in need of relocating the last few people that pass on good genes, now that this is the last outpost standing?”

The genuine laugh he offers you prompts you to lean back in your seat, juxtaposing the way he leans forwards in his. Something in the arrogance that radiates off of him, and the smug smirk he has on his lips, feeds your irritation.

“Doesn’t seem like you can afford to be picky,” you snap back at him.

He licks his lips, and although it’s not longer than a second, your mind immediately drifts off to think about how it would feel between your legs, how he would feel between them. You try to be subtle as you shift in your seat, barely moving enough to soothe the aching that blooms at the apex of them.

“We’re making the selections as carefully as possible,” he counters. The paper of your file is pinched between his index and thumb, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. “We need to ensure the survival of humanity, and I’m sure you understand that we have to look for a certain level of ambition in the people we choose.”

Even though his explanation is vague, and doesn’t make much sense to you, it is strangely appealing. The word ambition is such a broad term that could mean anything from career-minded to cutthroat, yet you still have to figure out exactly what he means.

The tension grows thicker and thicker with each passing second of silence, and you feel a warm sensation spreading inside of you from his intense gaze – which is perhaps also due to the hint of desire that gleams in his eye as he regards you.

You try your best to ignore the way your heart races, wanting to diminish the warmth inside of you. But to no avail.

When he rises from his seat, your heart drops into your stomach again, and your eyes grow wide with curiosity and intrigue.

It’s a brief flicker of your eyes down his body that has you squeezing your thighs together, far too distracted by how tall he is than to notice the smug smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Would you say that you’ve… settled here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of something you find difficult to decipher.

He slowly stalks around the desk, the tips of his leather-clad fingers smoothly gliding over the dark wood. His eye lingers on your face, taking you in and assessing your reaction. His expression holds the same edge of darkness his voice does, though he isn’t hiding it as effectively as he thinks he is this time.

Your eyes never leave his frame when he comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the desk. He’s gripping the edge of it, and even in the dim light of the candles, you notice that it’s rather tightly, almost as if he’s suppressing the urge to touch you.

“Well, I suppose I’ve managed to adjust,” you reply.

For a brief moment, neither of you says anything. He just stares at you with this cold precision �� until you catch his eye flitting lower, trailing over your form.

The purple gown you wear isn’t revealing at all, not that Ms. Misery would allow you to wear anything of that sort anyways. The neckline is squared with raised yet off-the-shoulder structured shoulders that leave little to the imagination – but only if you’ve been touch deprived for long enough.

And, judging by the way his jaw clenches as his eye meets yours again, you can tell it’s also been a while for him.

The thought of it makes your blood run hot, the warmth now spreading to your cheeks. Your gaze falls to your lap, watching your fingers fumble with each other while you feel his bore into your frame.

There’s a hum rumbling in his chest once again, but this time it sounds more like a purr, as if he finds satisfaction in your nervousness. “Are you normally this flustered in front of men… or is it just me?”

A sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment floods your veins as your mind processes his words; your head snaps back up to look at him, and you’re greeted by a teasing grin.

“I’m not flustered,” you reply, your voice only wavering slightly, yet you know that it’s clear to him that you’re not being very honest. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

He tsks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I mean, I can see you,” he says, gesturing to you with his hand. “You’re licking your lips, you can’t meet my eyes for more than a few seconds, your cheeks are flushed – it’s clear your body yearns to be touched…” he trails off, smirking to himself as he briefly glances to the ground. “... by me.”

His statement catches you off-guard. A quick exhale from your nose leaves you feeling winded with the sensations of butterflies wreaking havoc within your body.

The silence between you lingers, heavy and thick as you ponder over his words, and you decide to go all in. You glance at him sideways, before speaking. “Is that so?”

His eye darkens at your coy demeanor, and with the corners of his quirking up into a sly smirk, he reveals just a glimpse of the devil that lurks beneath the angelic exterior. “Oh, it is,” he replies with a mocking tone. “I know you’re getting off to the thoughts of me at night, sweet thing. And even right now, you’re dripping for me. It’s almost pathetic.”

He almost seems relieved as he finally reaches to trace a gentle line over your exposed shoulder, starting at the crook of your neck. His light touch and the coldness of his gloves cause you to shiver involuntarily, and makes your breathing heavy.

As if he’s searching for something within yours, his eye narrows, and your mind races with the possibility of what such a look might signify.

“Look at you,” he purrs, licking his pouty lips. “You’re sitting here, just waiting for me to take things a step further – all the while I could smell that sweet pussy of yours ever since I’ve stepped into the room.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words, making it difficult to swallow, and you feel yourself clench around nothing; the urge to squirm in your seat is nearly overwhelming.

“That sweet scent of yours…” he trails off. Mesmerized by his words and confidence, you almost flinch when he pushes himself off the desk, slowly kneeling down to be on a level with you, hovering close to you like a predator pretending to pounce.

Your breath is heavy, and with your body still facing the desk, you’re forced to turn your head to the side to meet his gaze. There are mere inches between your faces now, and you feel his minty breath fan over your lips, swollen from how often you've licked them at this point.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and heat follows where the cold leather of his gloves ghosted over your skin. “So desperate to be touched… to be filled,” he hums. While embarrassment blossoms inside of you, there’s no amusement laced within his silky voice. It’s as if he’s just stating facts. “Or am I mistaken?” Your name topples past his lips with so much ease, it makes you imagine how it would sound moaned by him.

Your head begins to swim. His scent, his domineering aura, the warmth emanating off of him – it’s all too much and not enough.

Meekly shaking your head, the ‘no’ you reply comes out not louder than a whisper.

He takes in a quick breath of air, relishing in his victory. The way you submit to him, to his power and dominance, feeds something within him; a hunger that’s been growing more and more demanding from the moment he stepped into the room with you.

“Good girl,” he purrs, slowly rising to his full height, stretching his fingers as he keeps his eye locked on you. A flush spreads over your cheeks at his praise, the subconscious urge to make him proud sending a shiver of excitement through your veins, feeding right into your desire to please him.

He’s standing again, letting his eye drift over your sitting frame for a moment too long, trailing down your neck, over the curves of your breasts, and settling in your lap. A gloved hand comes forward to pinch the skirts of your gown between his fingers, an almost disgusted look on his features.

“Take it off.”

“W-What?”

“W-w-what?” he mocks, the scoff he releases filling you with shame. “Take it off,” he repeats. “Or else I will take it off of you, and that won’t be any more pleasant.”

The thought of him undressing you seems tempting. A small part of you wants to protest, to say something along the lines of ‘you can’t just demand something like this’ but the other part craves this. It feels as if it’s quintessential for your body to survive, not able to go one day longer without being touched at all.

Rising to your feet, you smooth out the skirts of your dress before craning your neck to look up at him. He’s towering over you, hardly stepping back far enough to create any space for you to undress.

Having always been a bit of a pain to put on, getting out of the dress was even worse. The tight fit and squared neckline leaves you with very limited mobility, meaning you’re always relying on a servant to help you get out of it. And facing these difficulties, the thought of removing it all by yourself, especially in front of him, seems almost sacrilegious.

A thought pops into your mind, and your body is quick enough to get through with it before you can even think about it properly.

“Care to help me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. Before he can refuse, you brush your hair over one shoulder and turn around, presenting him with your back and the tightly laced corset.

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse, and you say nothing as his fingers find the lacing of your corset, gloves brushing your skin as he slowly undos the laces.

It’s a slow process, one that builds anticipation within you, and has you squeezing your thighs together yet again.

His caresses are light and careful at first, but they grow increasingly firm and forceful. Each tug and pull draws you closer to him, and only when you hear the same dismissive hum rumbling in his chest do you dare to glimpse at him from over your shoulder, seeing him staring at your back with his jaw set with a new purpose.

The fabric is still pinched between his fingers when they suddenly change course, gripping the purple fabric around the lace with a bit more force than necessary. He rips open the corset in a single, harsh motion in a clear display of his impatience, the torn fabric hitting the ground with a thud, and your gown quickly follows suit.

For a moment, you feel relief at being freed from its confines. But it’s fleeting, your skin immediately prickling as you become aware of how much of your body is exposed to him now.

It’s weird to think that this thin layer of modesty has been enough to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, and now it’s peeled away with you knowing he’s gazing at you as if he’s been served his first meal in months.

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity as you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as he advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in.

His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or kept them at his sides. You can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body, his cock rock hard and all but straining against your lower back, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation as you do.

His proximity is all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment.

“Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger.

Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.”

“Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

You tip your head back in frustration, meeting with his shoulder, a loud huff slipping past your lips. But you’re so close to getting what you want, there’s no way you’re giving up already.

“Please, please touch me… Mr. Targaryen.” His name is spoken with a bit of hesitation. “I-I- please, fuck, need it so, so bad. Please.” That you’re not stomping your feet on the ground like an insolent child is everything, knowing it would push your chance for relief further away.

But it seems to do the trick, because one gloved hand settles on your hip without him saying anything, while the other clasps around the outside of your thigh, his thumb brushing smooth patterns over your hot skin.

He drags his nose along the side of your face, his breath tickling your skin, and you slightly turn your head to lean into it. “Where else do you want me to touch, mh?”

Feeling him on every inch of your body has you far too aroused to be frustrated by his on-going teasing and stalling. “Right…” you pant, peeling his hand from your hip to bring it down between your legs, “... here.”

A quiet whine slips past your lips as his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit, the cold leather of his gloves against your hot skin striking you as a welcome surprise and sending a shiver down your spine. It feels foreign, but nice nevertheless.

You’ve fully anticipated him to pull back again, to leave you high and dry, but he surprises you again, when he drags his fingers through your swollen folds.

“Right here, mh?” he purrs into your ear with a husky voice.

It’s a grazing touch that alone is enough to make your mind hazy, merely humming in return.

He’s not doing more than rubbing your clit and brushing his digits through your folds, but you’re wet enough already for it to be audible. The squelching sounds coming from between your legs are embarrassing, clearly highlighting your desperation for him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside of you.

Taking in a sharp breath, you hold onto the desk again. “God, fuck,” you whine.

His finger is thick enough to be accompanied with a slight burning stretch, intensifying the moment he adds another. You can’t resist the urge to grind against his hand, the base of it applying just enough pressure to your clit to numb any discomfort.

“You like that, mh?” he rasps. “So fucking wet and desperate for my fingers, dripping all over my glove.”

A string of whiny yesses leaves your lips as the pace of his fingers increases, making it incredibly difficult for your hips to maintain the rhythm.

Heavy breaths and pants fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on and bringing you closer to the sweet relief you’ve craved for so long. He seems to sense your impending orgasm, and works you just a moment longer, before he withdraws his fingers from you, making sure the loss would make it even worse.

But there’s no time to whine.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he teases, acting as if he’s completely oblivious to the torture he puts you through, and brings his gloved hand up to your face.

The red leather is covered in your arousal, sticky and glistening even in the dim light. As he spreads the two fingers, a few strings of it connect the leather, and you bite your bottom lip, knowing all too well what might follow.

“Open your mouth, pet,” he commands in a stern voice. “Clean up your mess.”

And you comply, parting your lips and eagerly embracing him pushing them inside. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the leather tasting and feeling completely different on your tongue.

You hardly notice that his other hand has left your thigh, and even less that he’s undoing the zipper of his slacks, pulling out his hard cock. Only when you feel the pressure against your entrance do your eyes widen, and you whine around his fingers as he pushes inside.

Even though you are stretched from his digits, it can not compare to his cock.

He’s filling you to the brim in one, swift thrust, and with you being gagged by his gloved fingers, you can’t do more than mewl and moan. “Fuck, tight cunt taking my cock, hm? That’s it, such a good, little pet.”

Not giving you the chance to adjust to his size, he sets up a reckless pace from the very start, his impatience running thin with the way your tightness embraces him. He fucks you as if it’s a one time thing, as if you won’t make the cut, but something inside of you tells you this is merely the beginning.

Saliva trickles down your chin as his cock drives deeper and deeper, forcing moan after moan past your lips and his gloved fingers. It’s the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your muffled whines filling the room, and if Ms. Misery were to find out, you would be tortured or killed even before the next day arrived.

Maybe it’s the risk of being caught that drives him to his next step, but he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, gloved hand coming down to rest around your throat instead. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking.

You scramble for hold, sweaty palms planted flatly on the wooden surface in front of you, supporting yourself as the man behind you all but fucked every coherent thought out of your brain.

“Look at you,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself. “All you’ve been thinking about was my cock. So desperate to be fucked by me, huh?”

You are so full with him, his scent, his warmth, everything, that breathy whines and yesses are the only things slipping past your lips.

He drags his nose along the side of your face, clearly relishing in the way he’s fucked you dumb with so little effort already, and you almost feel yourself come on spot the moment he presses his lips to your earlobe.

Pushing his hips all the way into yours, he stills them for a moment, bringing up a gloved hand to spit on his fingers and before dragging them harshly over your sensitive clit, and putting you straight into a frenzy.

The tears that were brimming in your eyes now spill and run down your flushed cheeks, hitting the desk he has you hunched over.

“No need to cry, pet,” the man behind you drawls, a satisfaction weaved in his husky voice. “You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted my cock to fuck you stupid? Or do you want me to stop?”

Your blank mind barely processes his words, but just hearing the word stop has you finding your voice again. “N-no,” you whine, arching your back and pressing your ass back against him. “Don’t-don’t stop, Sir. ‘M so, so close.”

“Close, mh? Then fucking come for me.”

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his fingers strumming your clit in a reckless pattern, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release hits you suddenly.

His strained groans are hushed against your neck as you spasm around him, sucking him in hungrily. He works you through it, fucking you as you quiver and shake. Grinding against him, you ride your high out in rhythm with his thrusts, gasping each time his cock pistones inside of you.

His hips falter slightly for a moment, caught off guard by how tightly your walls are squeezing him, but he regains his composure and sets up a brutal pace again. You’re swollen and raw by now, but he doesn't stop.

“That’s it, fuck, I’m gonna get this pathetic cunt stuffed with my cum,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your clit to plant it on your hip.

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling, the tears on your cheeks now dry. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the desk, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding.

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He fucks it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

A strained groan is audible as he pulls out, tucking himself back in his slacks, and assumes the cold demeanor he’s had before. The only courtesy he grants you is picking up your dress and underwear he’s torn off you before, holding it out for you to take.

You get the cue, and dress yourself on trembling legs. The blonde watches curiously, leaning back against the desk again. The red gloves now lay on the desk, and you catch a glimpse of his long, ring-clad fingers.

With flushed cheeks, you briefly look at the ground before presenting him your back again. “Do you mind?”

He nods and steps towards you, silently lacing up your corset, and whenever his skin brushes yours, a shiver runs down your spine. His skin is soft, smooth even, and the warmth emanating from them is far more pleasant than the cold leather.

But the moment is fleeting as he quickly moves to sit down behind his desk again, a new file already pinched between his fingers. You smoothen out the skirt of your dress, merely bowing your head once, and make a beeline for the door.

It’s his voice ringing out that stops you in your tracks, though you don’t dare to turn around.

“I expect you to come back for your second interview tomorrow. See it as an opportunity for me to gauge whether or not you truly have the right… ambition.”

“Thank you, Mr. Targaryen,” you mumble in return, a strange sense of satisfaction and anticipation already coursing through your veins.

Hearing your name once again, you turn your head to look at him. “There’s no need to be formal when it’s just us. You can call me Aemond.”

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ddejavvu · 11 months ago

Text

Betrayal - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: months into the war and it's not as exhilarating as you'd hoped - not for your battalion, anyway. when the air conditioning in your compound blows, an old friend brings his tech genius of a padawan to fix it for you. while anakin is working, you convince his master to spar for old times' sake, and simple adrenaline gives way to a landslide of long-buried feelings neither of you should have for each other.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni, fem!reader, jedi!reader, reader is a general, sweat kink (? they are really sweaty and i talk about it a lot), oral (m+f receiving), semi-public sex (risk of being caught), sparring, lightsaber use, throatfucking, messy kisses, scratching/marking, lotsa spit, obligatory 'had you said the word' (sorry satine i had to steal his line)

WC: 16.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: sorry this took me so long to finish! i didn't have time to write for like two months but it's done now and i hope you enjoy it <3 this is set a couple months/a year into the clone wars, but i have chosen to fuck with their ages a little bit. in this, anakin is like 12-14-ish, even though he was older in AOTC when the war began.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Neglecting the option of taking a padawan under your wing is what stuck you on this humid, blazing, hellish planet, and you almost regret it. You’d wanted more freedom in your duties, didn’t want a youngling clinging to your leg begging for help with their rudimentary saber drills, so instead you swapped it for what you thought would be constant battle, exhilarating speeder chases, and the glory of proving yourself. Unbecoming of a Jedi to wish for, yes, but you’ve never claimed to be Council-worthy.

Now your butt is sticking to the chair you’re planted in, overlooking a very empty, very desolate, very boring outpost. It’s so hot that you think you’ve melted into the chair and fused with its fabric. Standing might tear your skin away from your flesh, leaving an imprint of you behind in your seat.

“General,” One of your clone troopers calls, sticking his head through the doorway to your station, “Nothing on my scanners.”

“Nor on mine,” You drawl lazily, “We’re scheduled to be inspected today. Any word from the crew?”

“None.” He laments, “I just hope they bring a droid that can fix the cooler.”

The base you’re stationed to isn’t always this disgusting. The structure is wired with an air conditioning system to keep the inside much cooler than the outside, but after a rather unfortunate incident with a freshly manufactured astromech droid with some crossed wirings, both lay broken and singed in the maintenance bay. Your clones don’t know how to tinker with droids or heating systems, and you’d probably wind up just as ash-covered if you tried.

“Alert me when they land,” You order the trooper, leaning your forehead against the cool metal of the scanner screen before you, “I want to have time to change into an outfit I haven’t soaked through with sweat.”

The scanner grows warm against your flushed skin far too soon. Everything is hot, and sticky, and gross, and you find yourself yearning for the cold showers you used to despise at the temple. Perhaps you yearn for the temple in general, for the familial atmosphere shared among overconfident Padawans and exasperated Masters. You think specifically of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a man you’d trained with, now Master to his apprentice Skywalker.

You haven’t seen the pair in years, but you remember Anakin’s blonde mop of hair, as well as his penchant for chaos. Watching Obi-Wan’s eyes fill with horror at whatever shenanigans his Padawan had gotten into that day was part of what helped you make the decision to decline one yourself, though you hold no distaste for the boy. He was simply young and untrained in the ways of the Jedi, and you were not a patient enough person to gracefully navigate that predicament then. You’re not sure you are now, either.

Even though you know you’re better suited on your own, you wonder if you’d have been more fulfilled with a Padawan learner of your own. Surely anything could be better than this, wasting away- rotting on a planet hot enough to boil your blood if you stepped outside without proper protection.

Your base is secluded and temperature-controlled, even if the contraption that the Republic had fashioned under pressure of time to keep you isolated is rather crude. It’s, in essence, a large dome, seals in place to ensure that vessels can land and takeoff without destroying the temperature control. It’s cooler within the dome than it is outside of it, but the hurriedly-designed system can only do too much, and you greatly depend on the air conditioning to do its job. Now that it’s not, you’re irritated from the heat, and you wish that the inspection team would just hurry up already. The patience you’d had drilled into you from your early years as a Youngling is nowhere to be found under the pressure of a heat wave, and your foot taps impatiently against the floor while you itch for some action.

You think it’s rather pathetic that you yearn for excitement so badly that you’re anxiously awaiting the inspection team. Their job takes barely an hour, a scan of your equipment and a survey of your troops. They’ll walk in and out without so much as a pleasantry, but you long for something new, something more, something exciting.

The call over your comms comes over an hour later, a time in which you remain at your post but begrudge it all the while. “General,” Your trooper barks, voice staticky and rough over the channel, “We’ve got visitors. Inspection team’s here. Initiating landing procedure.”

“Copy that,” You bolt out of your seat, barely remembering to lean over the microphone to reply, “Thank you.”

Finally.

Finally, someone new to talk to, even if they have the same face as everyone else you’ve spoken to on this long, dreary assignment. You’re friendly with your troopers, of course, but that itch for more is back in your brain, igniting you with vigor you don’t normally possess as you rush to greet the inspection team.

However, when you reach the landing bay, and the ship’s hydraulics hiss, clone troopers aren’t the only ones to disembark. Jedi robes make their appearance, shrouding the very man you’d just thought about, as well as the child by his side.

Obi-Wan wears the years that have passed since you last saw him, but time has treated him well. His hair is longer now, gone is that stiff Padawan buzz. His braid is missing as well, giving way to luscious strawberry blonde strands that he’s slicked back so that they drag against the back and sides of his neck. Longer hair looks good on him, just as it had when he was fifteen and had refused a haircut for months in a typical, if rather tame, display of teenage rebellion. Anakin is also significantly older than you’d kept track of, but he can’t be older than fourteen if his lanky limbs and awkward demeanor are any evidence.

Obi-Wan smiles at you, and you nearly forget to shove down that shameful part of you that wants to take more out of him than he can give you. Even as Padawans you’d always gravitated towards the man opposite you, sneaking out to roam the gardens after hours together or sharing sly glances across mission briefings. But he’s an honorable Jedi Master - a member of the Council itself, so you’ve heard - and you wrestle down your repressed feelings to grin at him.

“General Y/L/N,” He greets with a smile so charming you lament that the Jedi Order interrupted his chances of being a model.

“Master Kenobi,” You greet, but you know he’ll chide you for the honorific if you use it more than once, “I wasn’t aware you’d be on the inspection team.”

“We’re not. Technically.” Obi-Wan admits, arm coming to press against Anakin’s back and nudge him forwards, “We got word that your air conditioning system is out, as well as one of your new astromechs. Anakin here is still an excellent mechanic, I thought we’d come out to offer you some reprieve from the heat.”

Anakin looks embarrassed by the attention that’s fallen upon him, in typical pubescent fashion, and you take pity on the timid teenager, casting your glance back at his Master, “Maker, thank you. We’re melting out here.”

“I can imagine,” Obi-Wan laughs, and you turn again to Anakin who’s anxiously awaiting your orders.

“Anakin, if you could fix our air conditioning, that would be wonderful. Honestly, I’m not even sure I want the droid fixed, it’s what got us into this mess in the first place. But they’re both over there,” You point to the shorted out panels, “And my troopers will offer you any supplies you need, like tools or wiring or refreshments.”

“Thank you.” Anakin nods, hands clasped behind his back obediently even if he looks mortified to be the center of attention once more, “I’ll have things up and running as soon as possible.”

“I’m leaving you here,” Obi-Wan warns the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t often leave you alone with machinery and tools, Anakin, for reasons we’re both aware of. Promise me you will not do anything reckless?”

“I promise,” Anakin mutters reluctantly, and you avert your eyes so he has some semblance of privacy.

“I mean it, Anakin. This is no time to experiment with your technical prowess. You simply fix their system and you wait for me back on the ship, understand?”

“Master,” Anakin pleads, “I understand.”

“Very well. Get to your duties,” Obi-Wan dismisses the boy, turning to you only after he sees his Padawan crouch by the singed panel.

“He shouldn’t take long. He most likely will try to tinker with the astromech, though.” Obi-Wan smiles sympathetically, “He’s not one to leave a droid unusable.”

“I remember he had a particular talent for mechanics,” You muse, starting off towards the main base intent on leading Obi-Wan to your rec room, “If I recall correctly, he figured out how to inconspicuously rewire his communicator to give you an ‘unavailable’ signal if he didn’t like what you were asking him to do.”

Obi-Wan scoffs as he lets you lead through the doorway, “Yes, my Padawan has always had very selective hearing. I’m sure you don’t mind not having one of your own.”

“That’s one of the reasons I justify my choice,” You chuckle, letting the door shut behind you as you make your way through the halls. The base that the Republic had granted you is spacious, even decked out with training facilities and rec rooms interspersed throughout your rows of quarters, but it’s unbearably hot and you’re tired of being cooped up inside of it.

“This isn’t bad for a base,” Obi-Wan muses, robes swishing behind him as he strides beside you, “But I hope Anakin fixes that cooling system soon.”

“Try being stationed here permanently,” You scoff, tugging at the sweat-soaked neckline of your tunic, “I have long since abandoned my robes.”

“Do you have somewhere I could set this?” Obi-Wan asks, fingers catching the front of his cloak as he slings it off. It falls gracefully from his shoulders, and he holds the garment up as he laments still having to wear the rest of his robes.

“You can leave it in my quarters,” You veer sharply to the right, letting him catch up, “They’re just down this hallway.”

There’s unmarked doors on either side of the corridor, and you’re still impressed that each clone trooper knows where their bed is at night. Your door has a plaque beside its frame that reads ‘General’s Quarters,’ and you’re not confident that you could navigate the halls without it. You type in your access code, and the door slides open with a hiss.

“Just set it on the bed,” You gesture towards your mattress, “If we have some time, I thought,” You reach into the closet, pulling out your seldom-used lightsaber, “We could spar.”

Obi-Wan laughs, discarding his cloak onto your bed as his eyes crinkle happily at the corners, “You’re lacking a bit of excitement here, aren’t you, Y/N? There’s no way you’d duel me willingly after I took you down the last time.”

You’d sparred together since you’d been handed a saber for the first time. Sure, your initial weapons were wooden, then training blades designed to be duller than their more advanced counterparts, before you’d finally been granted allowance to manufacture one of your own. But there were no more dedicated sparring partners than the two of you, and you can tell the man opposite you is fond of the reminder you’ve given him, even if he is trying to tease you.

“You did not take me down,” You gawp, “I mean- yes, I was on the floor, but I wasn’t done! You didn’t win!”

“Mm, yes. I didn’t win because no one did.” Obi-Wan sends you a sly grin, “Anakin interrupted us, don’t you remember? We never got to finish.”

“Then a rematch,” You insist, gesturing towards the open doorway, “Once and for all we’ll prove who the better duelist is.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll win. After all, I can tell you spend every waking moment practicing and making sure you lose none of your fighting abilities,” Obi-Wan’s hand darts out to switch on your holotable, revealing an in-progress game of chess. You’re losing.

“I’ve only been using that as of late,” You snap, defensive, “It’s insufferable to train without proper ventilation. And only when I’m not on duty. I don’t spend all of my time sitting and playing chess.”

“Losing at chess.” Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow, finally stepping out of your quarters so that you can shut it once more, “Come, Y/N, show me to your training grounds.”

The training room is just as hot as everywhere else on the base. You walk through the doors and humid air greets you, something that wrinkles Obi-Wan’s nose and rustles his mustache.

“God, I hope your Padawan knows what he’s doing,” You groan, rolling up the sleeves of your own tunic but jumping excitedly into action despite the heat. You ignite your saber, slightly embarrassed by the thrill that the weapon gives you as it thrums to life. You haven’t felt this in a long time, at least, not paired with the thrill of battle. It’s significantly less awe-inspiring to ignite a saber against a training droid you know wouldn’t be able to singe your tunics if you stood stock still. Obi-Wan brings his to life as well; blue and green lights bathe your faces.

“I’ll go easy on you.” He smiles infuriatingly, cocking his head slightly to one side, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You jolt right, a fakeout before you dart left instead. He catches on rather quickly, though, and his blade clashes against yours as you aim for his leg.

“Nice start,” Obi-Wan admits, “But you can’t rely on misdirection for your entire fight. You’ll have to overpower me.”

“I could easily overpower you,” You swing left, breaking the contact of your two sabers, then jabbing so that he has to move his foot out of the way to avoid the plasma. He stumbles, barely catching himself against his back foot, but it gives you time enough to bring your blade up and around to nick at his shoulder, a hole now slashed into his tunic.

“Okay,” He stands straight, eyeing the tear in his clothing warily, “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Never underestimate your opponent,” You tease proudly, saber still ignited, “That’s one for me, Obi-Wan.”

“That doesn’t count,” He scoffs, standing at the ready, “I told you I’d go easy on you. Now I’m serious.”

“All I’m hearing is excuses,” You gloat, feet light as you step around him, “You lead this time, Kenobi.”

He does. He swings downwards, and you block your face with your own blade to stop him. He nearly jabs at your gut before you can prevent it, and you feel the heat from his blade as your own comes to block his.

You fling his weapon away with yours, and he lets you. After such a long period of no action (and shamefully little meditation) your abilities with the Force have grown slightly weaker, as have your regulatory skills. You can still sense what he’s going to do when he squares his shoulders, but you’re almost not fast enough to interpret those senses, and you barely make it to block him from swinging his blade in a fiery circle that would clip the edge of your arm.

“You’re rusty,” He taunts, his own Force abilities stronger than ever as his presence seeps through the cracks in your mind. You try to force him out, but it takes effort, and it’s effort you can’t expend elsewhere. It means that you can’t foresee his intent to aim for your face, and his blade hums inches away from your cheek as he holds it there.

You freeze; you’re caught.

We’re even,” You grunt, sweat beading at your forehead, “But we’re not finished.”

“Hang on,” He disengages his saber, letting the apparatus clatter to the ground as he tugs at one of the outer layers of his robes, “I’m going to shed a few things.”

“Stripping will not help your cause.” You tease, “I’m not distracted by sex appeal.”

Clearly, he isn’t expecting your jab, and he lets his mouth fall open as he slings off one of his garments, an incredulous laugh filling his throat.

“Y/N. You’ve obtained a foul mouth somewhere along your career. It certainly wasn’t in the temple.”

“It’s the clones,” You groan, “Try being stationed with a troop of grown men who went through puberty in record time. They’ve got the appetite of an adult with the filter of a teenage boy.”

“They’ve never tried anything with you,” Obi-Wan narrows his eyes questioningly, and you try to avoid looking at the sweat glistening against his tanned neck as he strips to his base layer.

“No, they’re respectful.” You assure him, “Just crass.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan frowns distastefully, “They haven’t had Jedi training. I suppose I’m not surprised.”

He stands there for a moment with only his undershirt covering his chest, then decides that it’s still too warm, tugging at its hem to raise it over his head.

You feel your insides ignite with a fire you haven’t felt in a long time when his bare chest is exposed, skin marred and riddled with coarse, wiry hair. His stomach is flat but not as tight as you remember in your youth, softer now. You can tell there’s an impressive layer of muscle beneath the milky white skin, though, even if it’s not outwardly visible. He uses his tunic to wipe the sweat off of his face so you’re granted a moment to ogle him, your mouth watering as you try to conceal your thoughts.

“Okay. Enough with this child’s play.” You shake your head, letting Obi-Wan have just enough time to toss aside his tunic before you plant your feet against the mat. Obi-Wan stands at the ready, both of your sabers ignited, “I want a real match. A long one, now that we’re warmed up. Best two out of three, Kenobi. Winner takes all.”

“Winner gets to stand in front of the air conditioning vent when Anakin gets it up and running,” Obi-Wan suggests, sweat trailing down his neck and over his chest. You avert your eyes, lest the fraile state of mind you’re in betrays you.

“Fine.” You shrug, reaching for the hem of your vest. It’s tactical, good for keeping with you on duty, but it’s etching lines of sweat into your back now. You sling it off, letting it land in a heap similar to Obi-Wan’s robes, and exposing the tank top you have on beneath it. “I know just the one I’ll pick. In my room, there’s one just above the bed. Maybe I’ll let it hit my back while I win at holochess.”

“I think the heat might be getting to you,” Obi-Wan cracks, a slight heave to his chest as he tries regulating his breathing. It’s hard when you’re as hot as you are to get enough oxygen, and you’re doing the same. It’s awfully difficult not to indulge in the view of his bare chest rapidly rising and falling, and you feel a tug below your gut as a vision flashes through your mind. It’s of what else could make him pant in such a way, and you can’t afford to entertain the thought, not around him. “I’m not sure which outcome is more delusional; that you’ll win this duel, or that you’ll win at holochess.”

“You’re wasting time,” You croon, charging with your blade poised for battle so that you have no more time to fantasize, “I think you’re scared.”

“Do I feel afraid?” Obi-Wan laughs, blocking your attack with little effort and redoubling to launch one of his own. The clatter of your sabers almost drowns out his words, “Reach out, Y/L/N, all you’ll feel is confidence.”

“I’m not sure I could feel you if I tried,” You lament, chest heaving as you block one of his swings, “Not while my mind is occupied with our duel. I am rusty, you were right.”

“Practice more,” He chides, “Less chess, more meditation.”

“One is a lot more boring than the other!” You groan, barely managing to get your arm up in time to take a shot at his own, “And the less boring one is chess, so that’s really saying something.”

“It may be boring but it is beneficial,” Obi-Wan lectures you, and you wonder if he thinks you’re still a Padawan. You fight with heaving breaths and monumental effort, the heat sucking your energy out through the sweat that drips down your skin. He turns and his back is glistening, which is really not a sight that helps you to stay focused.

“Now I’m starting to see why Anakin tinkered with his communicator,” You call, as Obi-Wan whirls around your left side, “You’re very dull as a Jedi Master!”

You have to throw yourself onto the floor to avoid a swing at your head, your right shoulder aching as you do so. But you scramble away from him, righting yourself and miraculously avoiding the blade of your saber coming into contact with the training mat.

You stumble to your knees, driving the forward momentum you have against Obi-Wan as he tries blocking you. You nearly get a nick out of his pants, but he pushes you backwards with the threat of his blade, and you fall with your back to the mat.

Your stomach drops when a blue blade hums hot and bright near your throat, its tip directed at your jugular. It doesn’t matter that it’s on its training setting; it’s inescapable and daunting when it’s an inch from your skin. You’re done for.

“I may be dull,” Obi-Wan pants, beard glistening as sweat streams down his neck. His chest heaves as he speaks, bare and open for your eyes, and his pink tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth to dart along his lips, “But I am victorious. Does this remind you a little bit of the last time we fought?”

It does. He’d been standing over you then as he is now, and you’d had to fortify your mind back then not to let slip vulgar thoughts about being on the floor below him. His thighs, meaty with muscle and strong from training, are hidden behind loose pants, but their crotch has tightened slightly, a chub to what should be a relaxed surface.

A pang of arousal shoots down your spine, and suddenly the lightsaber near your throat isn’t the most daunting thing in the room. It’s Obi-Wan.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as you lay beneath him.

“Your thoughts betray you,” He observes, and you feel his invasive presence in your mind, sucking out the private thoughts coursing through your brain. They’re of panting breaths, heaving chests, wandering hands, and meshing tongues; passionate embraces, intimate attachments. Things no Jedi should fantasize about, not under the code. Things that should bring shame to you, and maybe they do, and maybe you like it.

“Your body betrays you,” You’re able to muster, swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth as you glance pointedly at his bulge. It’s only grown since you’d last glanced at it; evidently your visions did something to him too.

He sees, or perhaps, feels what you see, freezes, then clicks his saber off. The blade retracts with a hiss and there is a distinct vacuum of sound where its humming once was. He breaks the unnerving silence with a clatter as he tosses it aside, feet still firmly planted on either side of your hips.

“It’s natural.” He weakly supplies, a poor defense, “It’s adrenaline-fueled, nothing more.”

“Really? So when you duel sith lords, when you chop the heads off of battle droids, you walk away with a stiff dick?” You carefully observe his body language, feet poised like he might bolt if you make any sudden moves. He’s flighty, and you have to make your next moves carefully.”

“Y/N,” He begins, his voice weak, “I wish you wouldn’t use such foul language.”

“Is it the language that bothers you?” You push your elbows against the mat, hoisting yourself up at an obtuse angle to meet his eye better, “Or is it the truth it carries? Obi-Wan, you were right. It’s natural. And it is not something to be ashamed of.”

“It is against the Code,” He reasons, his voice still fighting to sound resolute. He offers no other reasoning, and you know it’s because he has none.

“It’s not.” You insist, “The Code is ancient and rigid. And celibacy is not required, only a level head.”

“That’s the problem,” He chuckles weakly, “I don’t have a level head when it comes to you, Y/N.”

“You seem as though you do.” You press cautiously, careful not to push your luck, “I’ve never felt anything unprofessional about your feelings towards me.”

“That’s because I haven’t been around you in a long time,” He admits, “Not consistently. I was better at controlling it- no, hiding it when we were Padawans. I had to do it every day, it was natural to me. But I am out of practice now, and I have been since you were stationed here. I barely have the ability to hide how I feel about you, Y/N. And- and it is not something the Council would approve of.”

You sit up now, fully straightened. You’re still between his legs, but you’d need to rise to your knees for your face to be level with his bulge. You plan to.

“The Council is not here. Nor can they see us, or hear us, or feel us. They will not know what we do, Obi-Wan.”

“I will know.” He breathes, his voice growing weaker each time he tries raising it against you, “Y/N, I will never forget a thing we do together on this base. If we… If you touch me, I will remember every brush of your skin against mine for eternity. If you- kiss me, I will never be able to put the thought of your lips on mine out of my head. And I would not know how to live without it for the rest of my life.”

Your heart sinks in your stomach like a stone in water. He’s loyal to the Order, he always has been. But you’d been so blinded by isolation, so convinced by your own delusions, that you’d assumed his loyalty to you would be stronger. But it’s not, and you can’t earnestly be angry with him for it.

You swallow what little saliva has accumulated around your tongue to give yourself something to do, then rise to your feet.

“It sounds like you should walk away.” You mutter regretfully. His eyes hold the same feelings, strikingly painful. He nods, almost imperceptibly, but before he can follow your orders, you continue.

“But will you forgive yourself if you do?”

You feel it, his swell of emotions. Every single one is unbridled, yearning, heartache, fondness, want; all of them unleashed from the man whose mind is usually a fortress. They’re washing over you like waves, invading your brain and turning your thoughts their colors.

“No. I couldn’t,” He admits, “But-” and there’s always a but, “The Council would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

“They won’t know.” You insist, but it’s lost on him, “Obi-Wan, please make a decision. Who is more important, you or the Council?” Then in a more timid, soft voice, as his soft eyes bore into you and beg for mercy, you give him the opposite, “Who is more important… me or the Council?”

He kisses you. There is no warning, no shift in his Force signature, only his hands on your face and his lips on your own. There is strength in his touch, his hands firm where they pull your cheeks ever-so-slightly towards his face as if he’s trying to mash them into his own. His beard is rough and grating against your face, but it’s not unpleasant, especially when it brings with it his lips. His lips, which are much softer than you’d have imagined them, merely frame your own. The kiss is sweet but chaste, and the only indication you have that he wants more is the way that he holds you against him. Otherwise you’d mistake his courtesy for disinterest, and you tilt your head slightly sideways to encourage more enthusiasm from him.

When your lips reconnect he sighs, a breath from his nose that fans over your top lip. He’s letting you lead, letting you dictate whether you want to keep kissing him or whether you’ll suddenly switch positions; it’s like he’s afraid that you’ll rip off a mask and reveal yourself to be Master Windu, scolding him for his reckless passion. But of course you don’t, and you lick gently against the plush of his bottom lip instead.

He hums at the feeling of your tongue against his mouth, but he’s suddenly pushing against your cheeks instead of pulling.

“Are you absolutely sure,” He starts, but can’t seem to resist the temptation to steal another kiss from your spit-slicked lips, “That you- mm, that you want this? Because I cannot-” He breaks off with a weary, pleading, defeated look in his beautiful eyes, “I cannot turn back if we go further. If we proceed… I will not be able to forget what we do. If you’re not interested… please tell me now, so that I may save myself from loving you for an eternity that you do not wish to share with me.”

You scoff, moving in for another kiss at his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, only pushing you back so that you can respond.

“I just spent five minutes,” You pant, desperate to reconnect your lips, “Bargaining with you to get you to forget about your nerves. And you don’t think I want this?”

You try surging forwards again but he holds you back, eyes still begging for your words.

“Please. I need to hear you say it.” He seems almost self-conscious, worried you’re not interested in him the same way he’s interested in you. But you have been since you can remember, and you’re more than willing to work around the unconventional aspects of your relationship if it means you can have him, even just for today.

“I want you,” You breathe, the exhale hitting his lips, “Please- Obi-Wan, I want you. I want you no matter what the Code says. No matter what the Council says; I want you.”

He looks like he could cry. He is devoted to the Order, far more than you have seen most Jedi, and to hear you choose him over the Code must mean a great deal. He pours passion into the kiss you share, chest filling with oxygen that he gulps just to be able to keep his mouth on yours for longer. He consumes you, fingers pulling at your cheeks and tugging you closer still, like he thinks you might fuse if he tries hard enough.

He groans into your mouth, his tongue more exploratory now that you’ve pledged your devotion to him. He’s not afraid of taking now, of getting his hopes up only to be thrown down, and he swipes the wet muscle in a hot stripe over your own tongue. He rolls it against your lower lip, so wonderful to kiss for someone with such lacking experience.

“No one is coming,” You breathe, exhaling against his mouth as your hands wander to his waistband, “No one- no one can see us.”

“I want you in your quarters.” He protests, grabbing your wrists when your hand sinks to his bulge and ghosts over it. He jolts at the unexpected contact, but holds you back, “I want to lay you down, Y/N, I want to indulge in every part of you. Worship you.”

“I will let you,” You moan, tilting your forehead against his and mouthing at his lips in a sloppy kiss, “You may have me any way you want, Obi-Wan. But here, I- I want to have you. I need to have you now,”

“Impatient,” He notes, sounding suspiciously close to lecturing you. But he lets your wrists go, and you sink to your knees instantly. He hears them hit the training mat, knows they must ache, but he can’t find any part of him available to worry about it, not now that your hands are prying greedily at the waistband of his trousers.

He’s a near stranger to physical pleasure, at least in recent years. He’s a grown man, he has urges, but he also has responsibilities, and the constant pressure of an ambitious (read: reckless) young Padawan under his supervision mixed with a quickly-rising rank within the Jedi Order leave him with little time nor interest to indulge in his barest desires. Your hand gently squeezing his clothed bulge as you wrestle with his pants nearly knocks him off of his feet, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle having your warm mouth envelop it.

Finally you tug loose the drawstring within his pants, and yank them down his thighs. They’re seldom bare, you see from the milky white tone of the skin there, but they are muscled and thick like he does not neglect them.

You can’t help yourself when you lean forwards, tongue already protruding from your mouth to lick a fat, wet stripe around one of his thighs. It’s sturdy beneath your tongue that dips into the crease between his skin and the parts of it that are covered by his briefs. His muscles tense like you’ve struck him with a fatal blow, and an open-mouthed groan escapes his lips.

His skin tastes of the sweat that’s currently moistening every inch of your bodies, salty and tantalizing. There’s no escaping it in the brutal heat, but it makes him all the more sexy, his skin glistening before you even get a chance to smear it in your saliva.

You’re guilty of impatience as he accuses, and you can’t resist mouthing at his covered bulge. He’s half-hard, but when your lips purse around the outline of his cock in his briefs he twitches, and you feel him stiffen against the restraints of his underwear on your tongue.

His knees give out with no warning, and he barely has the foresight to grab desperately at a bench press behind him for stability. He falls quickly to its surface, perching on the edge of it while you desperately chase his cock. You fit your mouth again over his briefs and drool against the fabric, surely soaking it through with your saliva. His cock, though restrained, is heavy and thick on your tongue, making your mouth water and produce enough drool to soak through his entire ensemble. His hands clutch the bench beneath him with white knuckles, and he grits his teeth to stop himself from shouting as you suck at his clothed cock.

“Oh, Y/N,” He pants, voice strained as you get lost in your task and forget that you need to actually pull his briefs down. He reaches for your head, gently nudging you away with his knuckles against your temple.

“Darling, please, I can’t- I won’t last for very long. Please, have me properly.”

He grips at the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down hurriedly and letting his cock spring free. It’s of decent length, but slightly thicker than average, its base shrouded by a patch of curled hair at his groin. It’s a similar caramel color to the rest of his hair, and his sweat has accumulated particularly within its wiry constraints, leaving him musky. The smell might bother you if it were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, but here and now, on your knees for Obi-Wan in the training room, it’s the most disgustingly tantalizing thing you’ve ever smelled in your entire life.

That’s why you bury your face into it, the hair tickling at your skin. His hips jolt as you inhale deeply near the base of his cock, groaning and letting your tongue fall to drag against just the shaft of his erect dick. He’s painfully hard, embarrassingly seconds to orgasm, and your spit now glistening on his length doesn’t help. Or it helps too much; either way, he’s close to cumming and you haven’t even had a chance to put him in your mouth.

“Darling,” He begs, pushing at your forehead once more, speaking through an eternal shortage of breath, “Please, I- it all feels too good. I can’t take it. I won’t last long.”

“That’s okay,” You pant, your breath falling over his cock as it practically pulses with pleasure, “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Terrible,” He manages to chuckle weakly, but any further chiding he has planned for your cheekiness is cut short when he stops breathing. He actually forgets how when your wet mouth closes around the head of his cock, your tongue licking flat over its head and covering most of its surface area. It’s so much sensation so fast that Obi-Wan has to clench his hands around the bench not to cum right then and there, and he feels pinpricks of pain over his skin that he realizes are from his fingernails digging against his palms. When you draw your head back off of his cock with a slick sound, then move in again to take more of his length into your mouth, his lungs suddenly remember their function, and heave within his chest.

His groans are filthy and they only pool more slick wetness between your thighs as you kneel for him. You don’t care about the ache in your knees, nor the pain in your neck from the slightly awkward angle you’re indulging in him at. All that matters is his cock, heavy and thick on your tongue, sweat and precum alike flooding your taste buds.

His restraint is put to the test. He’s a member of the Jedi Council, for Force’s sake, and he should have a little more control over himself than this. But it takes almost all of his energy not to buck his hips forwards and plunge the length of his cock down your throat, and it means that he’s not able to devote as much restraint to delaying his orgasm as he’d like.

He’s twitching in your mouth, and even with your faded Force abilities, mental muscles weakened by disuse, you can feel the tension coursing through his veins, hot and wild. You don’t need to look at his strained, white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench to know that he’s devoting all of his energy to restraining himself, and you take pride in being able to undo Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi with merely your mouth. You indulge in his painful hardness, tongue smoothly caressing the underside of his length as you bob your head back and forth around him. Each time you draw back you flick your tongue up and over the ruddy, leaking head of his cock, something that makes that fiery tension in his body glow even hotter.

“I’m going to-” He warns you, voice petering out weakly as he tries controlling himself, “I can’t- I can’t help it, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum,” You speak in unison, your word coming out muffled as you speak it against his cock. You smooth your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles impossibly tight beneath your fingers. You stroke them soothingly, encouraging him to unclench his jaw that’s wired so tightly that you’re sure his teeth are on the verge of cracking, “Cum, Obi-Wan, please.”

Even if you hadn’t asked him so kindly, he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to withhold any longer. Not with your pretty eyes gazing up at him from between his legs, lashes latticing the tender emotions swirling in your gaze. Your fingers slide calmly, sweetly over the expanse of his thighs, and the mere thought of you digging your nails harshly into them and leaving marks is what elicits the final twitch of his dick on your tongue.

Evidently, you’re more in tune with his thoughts than he’d expected. You’d caught the quick image that had flashed through his mind, now completely unguarded to you, and you curl your fingers quicker than he can comprehend, carving searing marks into his thighs that will show up red for at least a week. Paired with the movement of your fingers, you suck hard at his cock, plunging your face forwards to nestle against the base once more. His tip hits the back of your throat with force and it makes you gag, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure what sensation is more overwhelming: the vivid burning at his thighs, the way the tip of his dick nestles so securely into the warm, wet sleeve of your throat, or the way that you’re breathing in his sweat-marred scent like it’s the purest oxygen you’ve ever had in your lungs. All he knows is that together, they’re his undoing, and he lets out a rugged cry; he can’t control himself any longer when pleasure roars through him with a fury he’s almost frightened of.

He’s always calm, collected, in control. But now he’s grabbing your face with shaking hands as he pumps warm spurts of cum down your throat, holding your jaw steady so that you can’t back away, not that you want to. He holds you in place while his thighs begin to tremble, your tongue continuously smoothing over the underside of his cock while it twitches in your mouth. He keeps himself fully nestled into the back of your throat while he cums, and if he had energy to be embarrassed about cumming as much as he was, he’d be apologizing. But he can’t, not when you’re swallowing him so eagerly, throat convulsing around the head of his cock and only milking more out of him. There’s obscene groans coming from his mouth, the kind that bring heat to your own core, and you think you could get off to the sound a thousand times over if you recorded him now. They’re deep, throaty, and desperate as he holds your face around his cock, gagging you on his dick as his orgasm takes control of him.

A part of your training that hasn’t left you yet was your extensive disaster training, in which you were taught how to extend the time for which you could hold your breath. That comes in especially handy when Obi-Wan’s hands cradle your jaw, keeping you snugly choking around his dick. You have to fight not to draw back at the strange sensation of your throat being plugged while his cum splatters against the back of it,, and you use all of your strength to keep yourself from panicking at the lack of airflow. You’re only slightly ashamed to admit that you’d willingly die like this, a fucktoy for his cock.

Once his orgasm has worked its way through him he seems to remember you can’t breathe, all of the tension having leaked out of his muscles. He inhales with a start, pushing against your cheeks and tugging his cock out of your mouth, “Oh, Y/N, darling- Y/N, are you-?”

At the sight of your spit-soaked lips, tongue desperately running over them to collect any of the sweat that had accumulated there from being pressed against his pelvis, he lunges forwards to meet his lips with your own. He can taste the slight savory hint of his own release, your tongues meshing wetly and messily. He’s hunching now, even though you’ve straightened up on your knees, and he feels you clumsily palm at his dick, tucking him back away into his briefs. It makes his lips go slack with a gasp even though he’s just finished, and he’s more than eager to take you by the wrists and help you to your feet. You toss his undershirt at him with careless speed, and he nearly gets lost in its beige expanse from the way that his arms shake as he pulls it over his head.

“My quarters,” Your voice is thick and ragged, still recovering from your prior lack of oxygen, “We can- it’s soundproof, no one will know.”

“Yes,” He breathes, legs shaking slightly as he gathers the rest of the clothes he’d shed while sparring with you, “Um- we can... Anakin still hasn’t gotten the air conditioning running.”

“Uh-uh,” You shake your head, feeling nothing from the vent to your left, “Hurry, let’s go before-”

“General,” The door slides open, and you both startle, much less in tune with the force presences of those around you than you’d like to admit. One of your troopers sticks his head through the door, “The kid needs a multitool.”

You blink once, registering a slight soreness at the back of your throat, “Get him a multitool, then.”

You’re sure he can see your haggard appearance, and all apart from the glossy look of your lips looks like you’ve been sparring. Which you have, technically. You just hope Obi-Wan’s trousers don’t look like they’ve only just been hitched up around his waist again, or his shirt barely pulled down over his chest.

“I lost mine, general,” The trooper admits sheepishly. There was an abundance of the supplies that were offered to you before you’d been shipped out to this battle station, and more had been stocked for a long time in one of the supply closets, but your troopers are bored more often than not, and you shudder to think of all of the times they’ve used them as target practice by standing them on the balcony and opening fire. Apparently, you need to request some more from the next inspection team, as well as impress upon your troops the difference between an abundance of resources and useless clutter begging for a blaster wound.

“I have one in my quarters,” You sigh wearily, “Let’s see to it that we don’t misuse our equipment anymore, soldier.”

“Yes, General,” He nods vigorously, stepping out of your way to offer you the open door.

“Obi-Wan,” You turn apologetically, “We’ll have to continue our sparring match after I retrieve the multitool for your padawan. You’re welcome to follow us, though I’m not sure it’s any cooler out there than it is in here.”

“I’d like to stash my clothes somewhere, if you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan holds up the outer garments he’d shed, “I think it gives you somewhat of an unfair advantage if I’m liable to trip over my own tunics.”

You grant him a good-natured laugh as you pass your trooper in the doorway, and all in all, you think that the two of you have done a fantastic job at pretending his dick wasn’t in your mouth only minutes ago.

Your trooper makes the wise decision to stand outside of your quarters when you enter them, although any initial disappointment you’d felt at his poorly-timed request has well worn off by now. That’s all he’s guilty of, anyways; you find their antics amusing despite their destructive nature. It’s not his fault that you’re canoodling with the Jedi master, so you forgive him his abhorrent timing. You beeline for a locker in your closet, punching in the numeric code and letting the squeaky hinges reveal your small weapons store. It’s a multipurpose space, blasters on a rack that’s affixed to the back, a mount for your saber, and a drawer of various other mechanical supplies down below. You throw it open, and Obi-Wan watches you dig for the multitool where he stands by your bed, his tunics laid on your bedspread.

You realize all too late that one of your other mechanical supplies is in full view of the Jedi master standing behind you, black in color for subtlety but unmistakable in shape. It’s phallic and has a second prong that shoots off of the base to vibrate against your clit, something you only use when you're absolutely certain no one can hear. Besides, the sound could very well be mistaken for one of your troopers shaving their scruff, so you have ample opportunity. You snatch the multitool out of the drawer and slam it shut, making your trooper’s shoulders twitch in a quickly concealed wince. You’re thankful that only Obi-Wan was a temporary witness to your lack of organizational skills.

“Here,” You rush to hand it off, forcefully locking the cabinet and thrusting the tool towards the trooper, “Take it- uh, keep it, I’ll put in a request for more supplies tonight.”

“Thanks, General,” He nods warily at you, and you pity the way he’s taken your context clues and misarranged them to view your behavior as standoffish and exasperated with him, “My apologies again.”

“No worries,” You try not to snap at him, unnerved by the abnormal lack of mental pressure from Obi-Wan behind you. He used to tease you abundantly in your youth, prying at your mental shields and slipping snide remarks through the cracks while you fought to keep a straight face, but now that he’s laid his eyes on possibly the most embarrassing item you own, he’s completely still, completely silent.

“Goodbye.” You shut the door with a hydraulic hiss, and stand facing it until Obi-Wan speaks, pretending to fuss with the control panel.

“It seems you overlooked another multitool in that drawer,” His voice finally reaches over the silence, carefully bundled so that the underlying mirth is something you can only guess at, “Now I wonder if your battalion is really the cause of your foul mouth.”

“Shut up!” You whirl on him with cheeks blazing on opposite sides of your face like Tatooine’s twin suns, “Don’t tease me-”

“I’m not teasing you!” He insists, voice sounding aghast, like it’s out of the question, like he’s offended by the accusation, taking your arms into his grip when you look like you might shove him. His face is split into a smile - not a grin, which is reassuring - but a warm smile, even if there is amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Yes you are,” You scoff, and you have half a mind to pull away when one of his hands releases your arm and anchors itself against your face instead. It’s warm, rough from wear but impossibly gentle. You fight leaning into it for as long as you can, pride still bruised, but he leans in to press his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss.

Typical.

You’d gagged on his dick ten minutes ago, and he’s kissing your forehead.

“Darling,” He hums sympathetically, tucking your face against his chest so snugly that you think it was engineered for the curves and bumps of your skin. You relish the hug he traps you in, the tender hold even though you’re interested in something more carnal, feral, hungry. His voice is strong and soothing as he speaks, and the vibrations thrum through his chest and against your face “You had my cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago. I’m not going to make fun of you for having a toy.”

Oh. Perhaps he hadn’t forgotten.

“Such a foul mouth,” You admonish him, tucking your grin away between the haphazardly-righted folds of his tabard.

He pinches at your side, fingers greedily prying at the soft flesh of your belly through layers of clothing you wish weren’t between your skin and his, “Yes, well, it’s because I’ve had yours all over me.”

His hand, similarly bold to his mouth, flattens out along the curve of your side, tucking into the space above your hip bones. The other stays in place against your cheek, finger running idly across the underside of your jawline. You don’t know whether the shiver that shudders down your spine is due to the ticklish nature of his touch, or the sensual area he’s chosen, but he feels your spine thrum, and he presses further into you like it was an invitation.

“Darling,” He starts, back to that well-practiced hesitancy, “If you still want to…”

“I do,” You nod, feeling sweat drip down the back of your neck and soak into the fabric of your tank top, “Do you think we have time?”

“Anakin can occupy himself with scrap metal and multitools for hours,” Obi-Wan recollects with a smile on his face that isn’t committed to fondness or resignation. You’re sure he’s proud of his padawan’s abilities, but not of the havoc he wreaks with them.

“Hmm, that might be cutting it close,” You pretend to debate it, gnawing at the inside of your cheek, and he lets out a laugh as warm as the runoff heat from his saber with none of the bite of its blade.

“You’d occupy yourself with me for hours?” He teases, but when you nod, it’s earnest.

“I’d occupy myself with you for the rest of my life, Obi-Wan.”

The breath that he draws in when you begin speaking is the last one he draws for a while. Instead he holds it there, letting it burn and sear at his lungs while he wonders if any words he could produce with it would contain even a fraction of the yearning he feels roll over him in a nauseating wave. Very little has ever made him want the life of a civilian - his home is between the opulent walls of the Jedi temple, but any walls he shared with you would be infinitely more grandiose if only for your place within them.

“Had you said the word,” He elects to speak the truth, even if it isn’t even a chip away at the trove of feelings he keeps locked tightly away in his mind for you, “I would have left the Jedi Order.”

Would have.

You know why he won’t now, and you’re not upset with him for the reasons. You understand them, even if you don’t relate to them.

“But Anakin…”

“I know,” You nod against his chest, fingers taking hold of his undershirt’s fabric edge and fastening there, “You made a promise to your master. And to him. And he needs your help. I wouldn’t ask you to leave.”

“Would you have? When we were younger,” He idly strokes down the length of your spine, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

“Maybe…” You admit, “Maybe if I’d known your trip to Naboo would bring about such change. Maybe if I’d known I only had a few years left with you as we were. But I didn’t. So I never asked. And I never will.”

He doesn’t react verbally or physically after your confession, but the silence that ensues isn’t an awkward one. Instead, he maintains his hold on you, and you feel a gentle wave of affection flow from him through the Force. Affection, appreciation, love, which you feel so broadly through the Force, but rarely so devoted to you yourself rather than the galaxy in its entirety. You’re no stranger to the feeling, but it’s different channeled privately between two people than it is as a way of life.

“Let us pretend,” Obi-Wan finally musters, his voice thicker than usual, though if you were not so in tune with him you wouldn’t have perceived it, “For the next few fleeting moments, that we are still young. That we don’t have responsibilities other than those to ourselves, and to each other.”

Though your youth may have escaped you, your mind weary with resignation and Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened with the perpetual exhaustion of adulthood, his touch does not feel tired or incapable. It feels strong, firm, and mindful where it slips from your chin to your waist. His other hand sandwiches you between them, and you’re tilting your chin up to kiss him before he gives any indication that he’ll do the same. But he does, his boldness almost reset from the interruption you’d suffered. Like you need to coax him out of his shell again, like he’s worried you’ve somehow changed your mind.

You take the back of his neck in your hand, finding it slick and tacky with sour-smelling sweat, and pull him down so that his lips smash messily to your own. It’s a move he’s not expecting, and a startled groan escapes his lips as proof. You drink it, sucking it down your throat and pulling him towards the bed with the same backwards momentum. He’s nimble even if he’s unprepared, probably to do with his extensive agility training. You’re more than ready to fall back onto your bed when your calves butt against the frame but he lowers you down gently, with ease, drawing back from your kiss despite your fervent protests to watch you look up at him.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, your voice weary, “Why are you hesitating?”

“I’m not hesitating,” He answers, and you feel it to be truthful, “I’m admiring you, darling. I’m not unsure, I’m more sure than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Prove it,” You plead, already pulling at the hem of your tank top. You peel its sweat-soaked binding off of your skin, showcasing the equally stained garment beneath it that keeps your chest closer to your neck than your stomach, “Please, Obi-Wan, take me like you want me. Not like you feel bad for having me.”

“I do not feel bad for having you,” He promises, mouth barely parting from yours to utter the words. His lips are pink-tinted, glistening with spit, probably a mixture of his and yours. He pants slightly, cheeks similarly ruddy, “Perhaps later I will. When I stand in front of the Council and tell them we conducted routine maintenance. When I lie, when I guard my memories of you from them. But I’m not occupied with that now, darling. Only with you, I swear it.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” You hum, kissing an inch lower than his mouth, the apex of his chin that’s marred by the scruff of his beard. It’s prickly and rough beneath your lips, and when you draw back they glisten with transferred sweat, “I’m glad you’re not thinking of Master Yoda while dipping a knee between my thighs.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan ducks his head, advances on pause as he plants his forehead against your shoulder, “That’s awful. Really, truly vile.”

You laugh, and despite his disgusted bravado, so does he. His chest shakes against yours and you relish the sound, hand still planted firmly on the back of his neck. You briefly consider breaking out your rusty Yoda impression, ‘kiss me, you must’, but decide against it, instead choosing to press his head closer to your torso, letting his forehead lay flush and sweaty against your shoulder. It puts the scruff of his beard on the curve of your tits, and you feel it burn your skin as he kisses along it lightly.

His mouth is soft, and his beard is its abrasive opposite. They trail in tandem along the slope of your breasts, first the soft lips and then the burn of the beard, until he’s lit a fiery trail across your skin to the padded edge of your bra. When his lips meet fabric instead of skin he noses beneath it, surely smelling a morning’s worth of sweat accumulated beneath the weight of your chest. You’re self conscious, for only a flash, then he takes a deep drag of air, inhaling until his chest seems fit to burst.

“I’m sorry,” You find yourself humming, regardless of his clear interest, “I wish a shower would help. Even the cold water doesn’t prevent sweating.”

“I don’t want you to shower,” He muses, pushing his face between your breasts to kiss at the skin between them. He mouths gently, tongue sliding over your skin with little form and too much spit that blends well with your sweat, “Sex is not sterile, darling. Soap and water defeat the purpose.”

You’re not sure whether it’s his insistence on the natural state of your body or the way that his knee gently prods against your center, but whatever it is, your fingers itch and you fling them up to cup the underside of your chest.

“Take it off,” You beg, and Obi-Wan shows no hesitation in complying, his hands sliding beneath your back, rough and weathered from work. They’re gentle as they slide over the clasp of your bra, and you push yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress so that he can maneuver the stretchy fabric easier.

“Does it hook or button?” He nudges his nose against yours to ask, and your stomach flops at the question. Both the fact that he doesn’t have enough experience to know, and the way that he feels comfortable enough admitting that to you by asking so earnestly only make you want him more, and you’re barely able to mumble ‘clasp’ before pressing your lips to his own once more.

“Three,” You add later, against his lips, when he unhooks one and still doesn’t have the garment undone, “There’s three.”

He takes your orders with unfailing patience, a trait you’d admired even in your youth. While you’d been more prone to hotheaded outbursts, he’d take you by the arm and speak for the both of you, usually resulting in far less severe of a punishment than you’d have gotten if you’d spoken your mind. Then the two of you would share sneaky, fleeting glances at each other while scrubbing the floors of the refectory, trying not to laugh loud enough for the Knight unwillingly supervising your punishment to hear.

You’re pulled out of your reverie when he finally unhooks the garment and slips it off of your shoulders, meaning you have to draw back from where you’d tucked your face over his shoulder, giving him a view of his work. As your faces pass each other he offers you the same grin he’d worn all those years ago, his pretty eyes alight with the love you feel seeping from his fingertips. You see a glimpse of the boy he was through the man he’s become, and both are equally endearing to you. The first, because you’d grown with him, like ferns tangled together in sticky, clinging tendrils. The second, because he wears his accomplishments on his face, crows feet at the corners of his eyes from laughing at his padawan’s wayward antics, and frown lines for scowling at the same incidences only moments prior. He’d laughed at you in your youth, and frowned just the same at your more uncouth ideas for adventure, and now those expressions are etched into his face, like layers of makeup no longer dissolvable with remover. He’ll wear them forever, and you want to see him display them even in his old age.

He watches the way that your body moves when he peels the sweat-soaked garment away from your chest. He watches your breasts succumb to gravity’s harsh pull, sloping sideways and downwards rather than maintaining their tight compress towards your chin. He watches them sag, watches them fall to their natural state and declares, “You’re beautiful, darling.”

He takes them in his hands, their mass in his palms as he rolls his thumb over the skin of your nipples. They’d usually pebble in the cold but now they’re pulling taut beneath his touch, and when he brushes his thumb over their peak you stifle a gasp.

“Beautiful,” He repeats, and leans down to meet one with his mouth. He gravitates towards the right one first, and the embrace of his hot mouth against your skin tempts your back to arch. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, then drags up its surface, and his lips kiss over the stripe of saliva he’d left behind.

His beard rubs against your skin and it’s not rawing, not yet, but you know it will be the more he mouths at your breast. He’s licking, sucking, pulling, but never biting, teeth merely grazing your flesh rather than indulging in it. His tongue does that instead, flattening out over your raised flesh and dragging hot, wet stripes over the bud of your perked nipple.

“Obi- Obi-Wan,” You gasp, dragging desperate, heaving breaths into your lungs as your hands fly to his lengthened hair. You’d ruffled it many times when it was short and spiked, but now you’re able to get purchase in the strawberry-blonde locks, curling your fingers around the soft, sweat-darkened strands and pulling.

You don’t pull hard, but it’s unexpected, and you feel the momentary pinch of Obi-Wan’s teeth around your breast. It floods heat to your already-pulsing core more than you’d have thought possible, considering the sweltering temperatures you’ve been in the whole time, but the soft groan that then ripples through your skin from the depths of his throat only makes you more desperate. All of a sudden the long-suffering heat is tepid by comparison, and you yank at the material of his undershirt so hard you nearly rip the fabric.

“Off,” You pant, “Please, take it- get it off, Obi-Wan.”

In a fluid, crouched movement Obi-Wan tears his undershirt off with one hand at its hem, his muscles flexing as he swings the arm up and over his head. He discards the shirt carelessly beneath him and it droops to the floor, no longer covering the bare skin of his chest that you’d admired earlier.

You have half a mind to do to him what he’s been doing to you, to sink your teeth into the flesh of his chest and suckle on his sweat-soaked skin. But he dips his face back to mouth at your tit once more, so you settle for running your hands greedily, desperately over the layer of soft skin that blocks his muscled chest from view. When he was younger, what seems like an eternity but must only be five years, his build was more defined. You’d gotten plenty of eyefuls of his bare, heaving chest during a particularly intense sparring match, or down by one of the large pools that were definitely supposed to be used more for reflection and tranquility rather than the chaos you’d wreaked upon them. But years of planning someone else’s schedule before his own has meant that he’s softened out around the middle, muscles still prominent when you dig your fingers into his skin, just not starkly visible anymore.

Age does that to a person; pushes them harder than ever before to achieve a less-defined result than they’re used to, but you find that you want to grind down onto the thin layer of pudge he’s accumulated just as much as you’d have wanted to drag yourself over his defined abs. The thought of doing both, either, anything makes you dizzy with desire that you express by scratching your sharpened nails down his skin, feeling his muscles shudder beneath your fingers.

“Darling,” He groans, choking on the word like it’s gagged him, “I- I think we ought to- are you ready?”

You marvel at his sincerity, at the idea that he’s not aware of the throbbing, slick mess that your core has become. You’d been ready twenty minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor beneath him, and you’ve only gotten more eager since then. His concern makes you want him more, and you use your grip on his soft hair to tug him upwards to meet your lips in a kiss.

“I’m ready,” You breathe, laying the words out in a hazy moan over his tongue, “I’m ready, Obi-Wan, please- please take me.”

A groan melts from his mouth like molten butter, dripping over your tongue and down your throat. He pants, lets you suck his tongue into your mouth in a long, eager drag, then mumbles clumsily, “I want you. I want- I want to have you, darling, I want to take you.” His hips roll experimentally against your own, the tight pressure of his clothed cock digging into your panties as he nearly loses the function in the muscles that are holding him up above you.

He lets out another moan as you drag your hips up to meet his premature thrusts, and this time it’s a weaker sound, more strangled and mottled. It’s satisfying, knowing that you’ve reduced the ever-stoic, prized Jedi negotiator Obi-Wan Kenobi to a heaving mass of sweat and desire. His undershorts are rucked up around his meaty thighs, but he hasn’t yanked them off to free his stiff cock yet, so for a moment, all you do is grind against each other.

The layers of clothing between you, one covering you and two covering him, provide frustrating boundaries but much-needed friction, and the scrape of his rough undershorts dragging against your thin panties makes your fingers curl into his back once more. You suspect that when he wakes tomorrow, your marks will still be there, and you take pride in knowing that he’ll have a very hard time forgetting you.

“Obi-” You really do intend to say his full name, but your breath leaves your lungs too quickly for it, and you revert back to the nickname he’d loathed as a teenager. Too juvenile, he’d protested greatly at the clipped diminutive, but he leans into it now. He licks the word right off of your tongue, his own plunging past your lips and dragging over your teeth in a messy, imprecise fashion. You get the sense that this is not about sex to him, it’s not about mechanics or equations or the perfect formula. It’s about you, and him, and you and him together. He doesn’t kiss you like a storybook prince because he kisses you like Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan wants to lick the spit out of your mouth and suck on your tongue. Obi-Wan wants to feel, not think, for once in his life, so he does.

“Obi-” You falter again, hands traveling from his muscled back to his hips. Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his undershorts, then his briefs where they lay against the same stretch of skin, “Off. Off, please- Obi-Wan, off, take ‘em- off.”

He grunts his approval into your mouth, obscene squelching sounds coming from where his spit pools between your teeth and your tongue. He reaches down with a blind, clumsy hand to tug at his waistband, but when it doesn’t provide immediate results, he finds himself getting frustrated. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, not the frustration itself but his inability to control it, and he feels his brow crease in irritation as he reluctantly parts from your mouth to focus on the task at hand. All he needs is a little extra leverage to slide his shorts off of his waist, briefs bunched together, and as soon as they’re out of his way he’s reaching for your own underwear.

You crane your neck downwards to watch him, and the glimmering mess of saliva in your mouth practically doubles in volume at the sight of his red-tipped, rock-hard cock. It’s curved slightly up towards his stomach in its desperation, and there’s precum oozing from its tip, foaming and all too appealing. You want to suck him off again, to really choke yourself on it this time and never draw back for air, but there’s no time when he tugs swiftly at the elastic band of your panties, tearing them easily away from you. They drag beneath your thighs but he merely pulls harder, until they spring free and bunch up around your knees.

“Up,” Obi-Wan taps at your left thigh, and you struggle to bend your knees amidst their relentless trembling. He helps you, strength having stuck with him even when composure has abandoned its post. You get your left thigh up first, exposing your glistening cunt, smeared sticky with your own slick. His breath catches, you feel it stutter to a stop in his chest that you’re groping, and his eyes glimmer in the warm lights above you.

“Darling,” He breathes, taken by the mess of your drooling cunt. He reaches out, touches it carefully, with only the pad of his pointer finger. He ghosts it along the side of your slit, and even the infuriatingly chaste touch is ultra erotic. At the way you writhe beneath a single one of his fingers he brings his thumb up to stroke down your slit, catching wetness on his thumb that his mouth opens to accommodate.

He sucks your release clean off of his thumb, you’re almost certain he scrapes his teeth along his skin just to get it all.

He leans into his own thumb, chases after it like he’s not the one taking it out of his mouth. He hesitates no further in clamoring backwards on the mattress until his knees hit the floor below, and he thanks the Force that the beds you were given are low enough for him to lean over the edge and bury his face in your cunt.

“Obi-Wan, no!” You plead, fingers tangling in his pretty blonde hair, “You’ll- you said- don’t cum yet, please, I- I want it in me!”

“I will cum in you,” He pledges, voice deep and determined as he nudges his nose against your wet cunt, “My darling, I’ll do whatever you ask. But I need you here, now. Please,” He breathes, his exhale shaky and warm as it heats your cunt, “Please, Darling, I want you here.”

“Have me,” You whimper, squirming your hips from side to side to propel yourself down the mattress. Your cunt bumps messily against his face that he doesn’t bother moving, and you buck your hips once, twice against his nose, riding his face, “Please, have me, Obi-Wan, you can have me.”

Your consent is all it takes. His mouth is open and his tongue is out the second you say the word, licking wet, tantalizingly slow stripes up your slit. He doesn’t breach it, doesn’t delve his tongue into your entrance, he laps at the slick smeared on the outside, as well as the wetness that has thoroughly soaked your thighs. Your skin is tacky with it even when he’s replaced it with his spit, and your cunt throbs at the meticulous approach he’s taken to appreciating every drop you give him.

It’s too meticulous.

After another slow, careful, nearly chaste lave of his tongue over the crease between your thigh and your cunt, probably just as soaked with sweat as it is with slick, you retighten your now-loose grip in his hair. You’d let go of the strands when he’d given you what you wanted, but now you want more, and you lead him straight to your core where he’d been lapping at your thighs instead.

“Here,” You beg, pulling his face against your drooling cunt until you’re certain he’s unable to breathe. You feel his nose breach your slit, nudged into your cunt by your insistent tugging on his hair.

“I need you here, inside, please.” You beg, pussy aching with abandon. His slow, careful ministrations had driven you mad, and now you are teetering on the edge of insanity as you nearly howl, “Please!”

His response is white-hot and wet. His tongue prods gently from between his lips as his jaw widens, and he watches your reaction as he fills your cunt with his slick tongue. A gush of your own wetness greets him, and as insistent as he is at meeting your eyes, his own flutter shut at the taste.

“Force,” He breathes, and the exclamation is uncommon from him. The muffled, garbled word sends vibrations straight into your cunt, and after the initial shock of his tongue inside of you, you feel his beard.

It scrapes abrasively against the sensitive, licked-over skin of your inner thighs, and prickles deliciously at the base of your leaking cunt. You feel sharp hairs prod at the curve of your ass, and his mouth moves fluidly, tongue wriggling with surprising prowess through the mess of slick you’ve accumulated in your cunt. It slides wetly along your inner walls that have made way for his tongue, and that will stretch eagerly to accommodate his cock.

His cock, oh, you’d forgotten the thick weight on your tongue, and your jaw aches with the ghost of it. Your cunt aches, too, and when his nose softly bumps your clit you gasp as your hips jolt upwards. He catches your thighs with Jedi agility, his muscles not straining at all to hold you to the mattress. The casual, easy display of strength makes your thighs quiver, and something inside of you tighten like a knot.

He licks you out like he’s drinking ambrosia, the glistening substance smeared over his face and starting up the bridge of his nose. The noises that he makes are hungry and wild as he licks more, sucks more, takes more. He’d moderated himself at first, lapped the sticky spillings of your wet cunt like he was rationing a meal. Now he feasts, tongue losing focus from inside your pussy and rapidly licking over your clit. His lips suction on and his beard burns tantalizingly at your sloppy cunt. You feel stimulation everywhere, the knot below your belly tightening ever-stronger until you feel the beginnings of a fray. It’s a step you take, an incline that you scramble up, and each pedestal you achieve gives way to a higher one. You let yourself climb, climb, climb, against every pulse of his suctioned lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you breach the clouds as Obi-Wan broadens his sucking mouth to half-latch to your clit, his tongue delving back into your drooling cunt. You leap for the final pedestal and a surge of pleasure hits you, soaking wet like a wave that you ride back down to the surface.

You tremble, you whimper, you love. Your thighs shake, the muscles in your stomach stuttering as your hips jolt and jerk. Your mouth produces such feeble sounds, whines and moans and ‘Oh, please, yes’s, and ‘Obi-Wan- kriff!’s. Your fingers in his hair latch tight but cling gentle, holding him to you as you lose control of yourself in the Force. All of the love, all of the passion, all of the attachment, all of the terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-un-Jedi-like things that you’re not supposed to feel surge through the Force and hit Obi-Wan like Coruscant’s train, knocking the wind out of him, though he never stops sucking at you.

Obi-Wan licks you through your orgasm, tongue pressing tight and hot and wet to the quiver of your cunt, letting it spasm against his mouth. He sucks up every last drop of slick that you’ll give him, greedily mouthing at your cunt long after it’s begun stinging from oversensitivity. You want his mouth off, and his cock in, although that first part sounds like a heinous thing to wish for. His tongue is perfection, slippery and knowing you well enough to hit just the right spots even though it’s never had you before. You only push his mouth away to beg for his cock, but you’re tempted to let him white out your vision and lick at you until he passes out.

“Obi-!” You gasp, pushing instead of pulling at his golden hair, “Obi-Wan, no- no more! Here, up- here, please, and I want you inside of me.”

He lets you unlatch him from your pulsing cunt, rife with the sting of stimulation. You need only a matter of seconds to come down from your high, but they’re seconds you can’t afford to spend on Obi-Wan’s tongue, or the clock won’t ever start. He licks at a smear of slick over your thigh that he’d missed earlier, and his brain seems to register your begging.

“Alright, darling,” He pants, out of breath from the way he’d spent it all in your cunt. His voice is ragged, drowned in slick and thick with want.

He clamors back onto the mattress, all humbly-forged muscles and greed. He hovers over you, and dips down to claim your mouth the way he had your cunt: with broad, sweeping swipes of his tongue. He licks your slick across your tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

“I’m here,” He soothes, his voice a notch deeper than usual and his words malformed due to the open ring of his mouth. He licks against your tongue once more, sloppy and hot, as his hips grind down against your thigh. He knows you need time but he doesn’t have long, and he grinds against your hip until you’re ready. You feel his stiff cock digging into your flesh, and it sends pulses of energy to your recovering cunt that make it beg to be filled. He’s not composed the way that he normally is, but he’s managing to hold himself together through grunts and groans into your mouth. If you don’t act fast, he’s going to splatter your stomach with cum, which wouldn’t be distasteful by any means, but you’d rather him paint your insides with it.

“You are intoxicating,” Obi-Wan proclaims, speaking directly into your mouth, an addict that can’t wean off of his drug, “I don’t know how I am supposed to pretend like this never happened.”

“Don’t,” You beg breathlessly, “Don’t forget me. Keep quiet around others, and- and when you are alone,” You reach down to take his cock into your hands, heavy and thick and waiting, “When you lay in bed at night, when you touch yourself-” He lets out something teetering on the edge of a whimper as you stroke your hand along his flushed length, an angry red coloring the tip that exposes how much self-control he’s composing, “-touch yourself, and- and think of me. Think of my hands, of my mouth, of my cunt. Think of me, Obi-Wan.”

“I will,” He vows, his voice holding like a frayed rope with one thread remaining, strained and pulling and clinging together, “Please let me have you. Please,” He braces his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing in your palm, “Please darling, let me in. I want to be inside of you, I want to have you, please.”

You’ve never seen him babble before. Not when he’d been seven years old, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, caught with a stray tooka cat in his robes halfway back to the creche. Not when he’d been fifteen and a warrior, his side split open in a gory mess of blood and flesh and lymph and bone. Not at his old master’s funeral, the light from the pyre’s flames dancing upon his stoic features. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a master at composure, but he is breathless now, sacrificing it to the dewy-warm crease where your neck meets your shoulder, and sucking up your sweat-salty scent in return.

You place your free hand on his back, sticky and flushed beneath your touch, and use it to help guide him into you. Your other hand, still wrapped around his cock, lines it up with your entrance and he needs little coaxing from there. He pushes himself into you slowly, courteously, but loses himself to some deep, primal urge that he’s buried beneath layers of meditation and balance.

He comes undone.

His muscles surge and his hips buck in what begins as a steady pace, but transforms into a wild rhythm that pins you against the mattress. He lets out a groan into the sweaty juncture of your neck, something that sounds like it could be from a beast and not a man. You feel the scrape of his beard against the seldom-touched skin there and you’re sure it’s growing raw, but you couldn’t care less. He’s not holding your hips up - his hands are plastered to your side and holding you there with a force carefully and pointedly short of bruising - but you angle your pelvis up anyway, allowing him to hit that much deeper inside of you. The tip of his cock never hurts where it connects briefly each thrust with your cervix, but you feel it intimately, every vein and ridge and curve that his body has to offer.

You’re grateful for the sound-proof walls of the military compound because you realize after a moment that you’re making noise just the same as he is. It’s softer, quieter, but it’s there, the underlying harmony to his leading grunts and groans.

All the while he is soft and gentle, because what he wants is not sex, it is you. Perhaps if he were a lesser man, he’d squeeze you, or bend you, or break you, all to take you the way he wants. But it is the soul inside of you that he’s after, and he takes great care with the vessel it’s enclosed in. He holds you, but he does not squeeze you. He kisses you, but he does not bite you. He moves with you, not against you. Your hips surge upwards to meet the thrusts of his cock and he latches his mouth to yours desperately, pleadingly. Your breathing is short and staccato through your nose, fanning against his top lip as he mashes it messily to your own, and you’re much easier to bring to a climax the second time around, sensitivity still roiling in your blood from your previous orgasm.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, the words spilling languidly into his mouth, as you move in tandem, in, out, in, out, forwards, backwards, everything, nothing.

“Obi- I’m gonna- ooh, I’m gonna cum,” You cry, overwhelmed by the consistent drag of his cock against the walls of your soaked cunt. You’re slick again, gushing enough to replenish however much Obi-Wan had licked out of you. It squelches as he drives his dick into your pussy, foamy from the repetitive motions that are only creating it at faster intervals.

“Please- please do,” He moans, his dick twitching inside of you, “Force, I- ah, there’s nothing I want more than to feel that, darling. Please- please cum, please-”

“Kiss me,” You plead, even though he’s never stopped, if the way that his mouth moves against yours can still be considered a kiss. It’s far from any conventional peck on the lips, mostly tongue and drool that seeps down the side of your mouth and into your neck, mixing with the sweat already lingering there from your workout.

He tries kissing you more neatly, his lips tightening and suctioning around your own, but the closer you both get to your impending orgasms, the sloppier his thrusts are, and the more slack his mouth goes, smothering your own instead of truly kissing it while his tongue continues its dogged pursuit of your own. It’s no matter; his spit leaks uncontrollably into your mouth and you relish the taste. You don’t need perfection, you need him.

You can’t help your wandering hand from snaking down to his waist, curving just below his cock to cradle his balls against your palm. They’re heavy and warm as you take them into your hand, and doing so elicits a gasp from the man chasing his release inside of you, his hips stuttering in their pursuit of the wet warmth of your cunt. You squeeze them, not harshly, just a gentle compression, and Obi-Wan melts. A whimper escapes his lips, still slack and pressed to your own, and though his thrusts momentarily slow, they resume at double the pace. He’s rapidly bucking his hips now, barely containing himself enough to lift one hand off of your side and bring it to your chest. He fits his palm over one of your breasts, your stiff, sensitive nipple caving against his palm. You gasp at the prickling sensation and your fingernails momentarily dig into his back, but when his dick twitches once more inside of you, desperate, fit-to-burst, you drag them down his back in searing red lines.

If you hadn’t been able to feel Obi-Wan cum inside of you, you’d have known it was happening from the cry he releases alone. It’s abrupt, like his orgasm catches him off-guard even though he’s been pursuing it. But you can feel it, you can feel his warm cum ooze out of the head of his cock, momentarily stationary as it’s snug against your cervix. You feel it gush from his dick, filling any and all available space in your pulsating cunt before flooding outwards, dripping down your ass and thighs in an obscene display that soaks right into your bedsheets. Obi-Wan rides out his climax at a pace rapid enough to coax your second one out of you, and you welcome the now-familiar sensation of cumming around Obi-Wan. It’s mind-numbing, your ears ring for a faint moment, and your cunt rapidly clenches and unclenches around his cock that’s all too happy to continue occupying the space.

He grunts, moans, and groans as his sloppy thrusts finally slow, and your cunt appreciates the reduced pace. You’re well and truly spent, difficult to achieve for someone who’d gone through endurance training since childhood, and you’re not surprised that Obi-Wan, too, needs a break. He lowers himself to your chest with a slow, shaky exhale, eyes closed and face glistening with sweat just as your own does.

His beard grates roughly against your skin, shifted with every ragged breath that he draws in. His hair spills over the breast that his mouth isn’t nestled beside, and you stare down at his face, marveling how beautiful his barely-fluttering lashes and heaving chest are.

Before he opens his eyes he angles it towards you, so that the first thing he sees is your flushed, sweaty, open-mouthed expression. He’s in the perfect position to kiss the side of your breast, and it tingles with the phantom sensation of his palm flat against your perked nipple barely minutes before. His beard scrapes your skin like it has since you first kissed him, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to live happily without the scratch of it against your cheeks, or thighs, for that matter. The skin between your legs is still raw, stinging with the friction of Obi-Wan’s coarse hair against your flesh..

“You look beautiful, darling,” He hums, his voice grated raw from fatigue. His breath fans hot over your chest, but he pushes himself up on his tired biceps to hover over you. His weight against you had been comforting, but his gaze is even more so, and you let him loom over you.

His chest, peppered with auburn curls so fine they glisten in the poor lighting of your quarters, rises and falls deeply in front of you. You have half a mind to bury your face in it; you might if his face wasn’t impossibly more captivating.

His eyes search yours, for what you’re not sure, but you realize that his breathing gets more shallow until his chest stills completely. He only releases his breath when you reach up to thumb gently at his sternum, loosening his lungs again.

“Do you regret it?”

You suppose you didn’t have to ruin the moment so harshly, but you want to know the truth. You want to know if this was worth it, or if you’re going on the list of regrets that Obi-Wan pours over obsessively.

He takes a moment to answer, but you suspect it’s because he’s been caught off guard by your question. He shakes his head, dipping his face down to kiss the swell of your cheek.

“No, I don’t.” He mumbles against the dewy skin of your face, hiding his words there in self-preservation. You kiss the fleeting scruff of his beard as he pulls away, and your eyes find the blue of his instantly.

“You needed convincing at first,” You recall warily, something sinking in your chest now that you’re not puppettered by lust, “Are you certain it was the right thing to do?”

“Not at all,” He admits, “In fact, I think it was wrong of me. But I’ve done it anyways, and I am happy for that.”

“Why wrong?” You ghost your knuckles against his cheek, and he leans into it like he used to do when you’d clean scrapes and cuts he’d acquire while sparring.

“I am more attached to you now than ever,” He offers simply, but it doesn’t seem like it pains him to confess. He seems lighter now, less embroiled in his own anxiety. “And I’m not certain I can keep my personal feelings- well, personal. I don’t know that I could think rationally about you. That’s not desirable to the Order, or to the war effort.”

You bite your tongue, teeth digging softly into its muscle.

“All the same,” He continues, “Jedi are not without attachments. Younglings form friendships in the creche, and their minders love them. Padawans love their Masters, and vice versa. Masters engage in relations,” He acknowledges, then his brows tick up and he considers, “Ki Adi Mundi has four wives. Perhaps I’m not the most blasphemous Jedi they’ve ever seen.”

A laugh comes tumbling from your lips before you can stop it, and Obi-Wan’s face softens into a grin of his own.

“Five,” You correct him, “He has five wives.”

“Force, he’s a heretic,” Obi-Wan exclaims, but it’s all for show; he holds no ill opinions of the council member.

“I’m happy for his wives,” You hum, the sound just short of a giggle, “But I prefer your beard over his.”

“Oh, but he’s got a better mustache than me,” Obi-Wan settles on his side facing you, a smile etched permanently into his features as he plays along with the banter you’ve started. He relishes its lighthearted nature compared to the hesitance of moments prior, “Maybe I should grow it out and curl it like his.”

Before you can offer him another round in exchange for a promise to never shape his facial hair around Master Mundi’s, the walls of your compound give a creaky grinding sound, then a rumble, and air whooshes through the vents you’ve come to loathe for their uselessness in the recent past.

“He did it!” You gawk, sitting up excitedly, nearly forgetting that you’re topless, “Oh Force, Anakin’s a wizard! He really is, he’s a mechanical wizard, and I’m going to buy him a speeder for this.”

“Do not,” Obi-Wan groans, sitting up beside you and tugging you easily to fit your back against his chest, “The last thing that boy needs is the ability to go faster.”

“He did it,” You sigh happily, leaning back and pressing your lips to Obi-Wan’s. He reciprocates easily now, unlike before when he’d run himself ragged with doubts.

“That means we’ll be off soon,” Obi-Wan reminds you gently, and you deflate slightly in his hold, “But I don’t think comming each other should be any issue.”

“Every night?” You suggest, kissing at the prickly cleft of his chin.

“That’s- ambitious.” He chuckles, but it’s not meant to tease, “Every night, darling.”

“You can send me dirty videos,” You gush, scrambling to free yourself from Obi-Wan’s hold when he tries locking his fingers onto your sides, nipping sharply at your shoulder.

“I will not!” He insists, voice firm but chest trembling with barely-withheld laughter, “Force, if I pressed the wrong button…”

“Perhaps Master Mundi could share it with one of his wives,” You laugh, scrambling back into your underclothes and heading for the fresher to clean yourself up, “Hurry up and get dressed, Obi-Wan, one of my troopers is probably on their way to tell us the good news!”

Your suspicions are confirmed only moments later, thankfully, after you’ve both had time to right your appearances. You look flushed and sweaty, if anything, but the cool air hasn’t managed to flood the entire compound yet, and you’ve been exercising, so it’s excusable. No one but you two needs to know that exercising didn’t mean sparring for longer than ten minutes.

“Anakin, you’re fantastic,” You call, rushing through the empty hangar where he’s standing near the ramp of the ship, “You’ve saved us all. I’m fairly certain my troops would have resorted to fratricide if we’d had to melt here for any longer.”

The padawan gives you a valiant effort at a polite chuckle, and you press on, “For the record, I told your master I’d get you a speeder for helping us today, but he said no.”

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan starts, exasperated, but catches himself on the use of your first name. Perhaps it feels different now, coming out of his mouth much more measured than it had only twenty minutes prior. He doesn’t speak further.

Anakin’s eyes briefly glint at the fantasy of his own speeder, but he controls himself quickly. He’s a credit to his master, who manages to look convincingly like he hadn’t just broken a very long streak of celibacy. Still, you appreciate that war hasn’t managed to suck the most basic of excitements out of the child, and you reach up to pat his cheek in a gesture distinctly un-Jedi like.

“Take care of yourself, and don’t let Obi-Wan bore you with a million lectures on economics, or politics, or the two combined.”

Anakin nods, but bites his lower lip to refrain from smirking, saving himself a lecture on sass later on. You hear Obi-Wan exhale huffily behind you, and you turn your attention to him when Anakin retreats onto the ship.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add to my apprentice’s willfulness,” He grouses, but the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in fondness for you both, “He’s got enough of that on his own.”

“Take care of yourself,” You ignore his teasing, your voice tender and sweet, slightly more than it had been for Anakin, “I know they don’t send you out much, because he’s only fourteen, but- but please take care of yourself, Obi-Wan.”

Perhaps if Anakin hadn’t been lingering on the ramp of the ship, perhaps if there weren’t five clone troopers stationed in the hangar, perhaps if you were the only two people in the world, like it had felt less than an hour ago, Obi-Wan would have kissed you. But he doesn’t, all he does is nod,

“We will,” He vows, and you nod, satisfied.

“I mean it,” You continue, more threatening than your earlier sentiment, “Comm me.” And you think back to the request you’d made earlier, breathlessly, the words fanning out against his sweaty skin, “And… think of me.”

You know he’s recalling the same moment in time when his cheeks tinge pink.

“I will,” He promises, singular this time, confirming your suspicions that his mind is flashing with visions of your flushed skin beneath his hands, “And please take care of yourself, too, General.”

Something hard and aching tugs at the back of your throat at the honorific, such a far cry from the intimacy you’d shared. But now you are General Y/L/N, and he is Master Kenobi, and that is the way things must be in the presence of others.

“Master Kenobi,” You bow, bending at the waist and noting the soft tug of soreness there.

“General Y/L/N,” Obi-Wan mimics your gesture, hands folded neatly into the sleeves of his robes.

He turns. He pivots on his feet and strides up the ramp of the ship they’d taken, Anakin waiting until he’s passed through the doorway to follow behind him. The door hisses shut, concealing them both, and the mechanical whiz-kid has the engines powered up in no time. You watch their ship take flight and navigate the narrow entrance to your hangar with ease, waiting until they’ve passed each temperature-isolating layer of defense that enshroud your compound and disappear into the planet’s heat-hazy atmosphere to turn away.

“General,” One of your troopers lingers behind you, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” You put on a convincing show, smiling serenely, “I’d just forgotten how much of a challenge sparring with Master Kenobi is. I’m fatigued; I think I’ll retire to my quarters for some rest.”

“General,” He nods, stating your title like a vow of loyalty, standing at attention as the hangar doors finally shut you in.

You walk the familiar path to your sparse quarters absentmindedly, feeling that same twinge of achiness each time you take a step. Only once your door hisses shut do you release the prim tension in your shoulders, slumping and slouching like you’d just escaped the throes of battle.

There is a shirt on your bed.

It’s white, though it’s been worn thoroughly, so the color is muddied ever so slightly with the tan tinge of sweat. It’s rumpled, from a hasty removal. It’s laid over your poor excuse for a blanket, cream-colored against the starkly contrasting black fabric. It’s impossible to miss, which means it had to have been placed there deliberately; it wasn’t forgotten.

It’s Obi-Wan’s.

You overcome your momentary stun and pad towards the bed, reaching for the shirt with a hesitant hand. You take it, feel it ever-so-slightly damp with lingering perspiration, and your stomach flips.

It’s Obi-Wan’s; it’s yours.

The shirt winds up snug around your pillow, tucked beneath the Republic-issue linen. It’s invisible to the outside eye, but when your nose is pressed gauchely into the pillowcase you can smell Obi-Wan through it, a mix of natural and artificial scents.

The musk of cologne and the acrid smell of sweat. Composure and lust. What is right and what is wrong.

You and Obi-Wan.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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erenjaegerwifee · 5 months ago

Text

Moonlight Heights

Survive the night: Day 3

Paring: Jake x Human!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+ NSFW, Taking drugs, drinking alcohol, rough sex, explicit language, female receiving orals, infidelity, size kink, slight breeding kink, Jake being a big heavy, sexy dilf☺️

Word Count: 3.7K

Disclaimer: if you feel unfortunate simply don’t read! Thank you I hope you enjoy! Any feedback is appreciated!

Event Masterlist

Today is norms birthday, the humans are having a big part at the outpost, humans, avatars and adult na’vi are invited. Jake was so excited, not only for the party but just to get away for a bit. He just can’t catch a break with his damn kids always getting in trouble and his wife constantly on his ass.

Jake just wants to drink, do some drugs and have a good time. Just like the good old days back on earth. You were a medic at the outpost for both humans and avatars, while you do have an avatar yourself, you don't use it much unless you have to go outside, you rather your human body. You and jake have known each other since you were in high school.

You joined the military together and he always protected his little doctor until the incident where he lost his legs. Even after that, you were the one who took care of him, you were the one to save his life in the field and get him to a hospital, you were the one who sat on his bedside waiting for him to wake up. And when he did, you took him home and became something of a care giver, a wife.

When jake was given the opportunity to come to pandora in his late brother’s place, he advocated for you to go along, he said ‘if she’s not going neither am I.’ Honestly, it touched your heart a bit to see the way he still cared for you. Within a few weeks on being on the new moon, everyone was convinced you and Jake were a couple, and you both made no move to correct them. You slept in the same room, ate off each other's plates, you were generally very close, attached to the hip.

Unfortunately for you, jake didn't develop feelings the same way you did when he ended up mating with his wife, Neytiri. She was an amazing warrior and am incredible mother. You couldn’t help but be a bit envious, its natural, you loved jake, and she just took him out from right under you. You couldn’t be that mad though, could you? You never told him you loved him. You stuffed those feelings down like it would kill you, everyone thought you'd be heartbroken at the news and truthfully you were, but you loved him enough to see how happy he was when he first mated and there was nothing you could have done by then. So, you just moved on with life.

Which brings you too tonight. Many of the na’vi has taken a liking to Norm. He respects their ways and in turn they respect him too, so the turnout was great. You could have sworn the entire clan was here. You knew that wasn't true though when you spot jake sitting next to Norm and group of their other friends around a fire pit by the indoor pool.

You walk up to them and take a seat next to jake, he snorts some blue powder before taking a swing of his drink and dropping his big heavy arm around your smaller body. “Hey Babygirl, I was starting to think you weren’t coming” he smiled widely down at you, his pupils were dilatated, only a sliver of green showed itself.

“What's that?” you say as you take a shot of na’vi liquor, it has to be the strongest alcohol you’ve ever had. You point to the blue powder on the table in front of them, glancing around you saw other na’vi snorting the same. “It’s drugs, like coke on earth, it has the same kind of effects on na’vi, I would offer you but they said not to give it to humans, something about unlikable side effects” jake explained before taking another swing of alcohol

“Will it kill me?” you look up at him, your hair was tied into a messy ponytail and you were wearing a low-neck crop top and ripped jeans that fits just perfectly around your hips and ass, at least that's what jake thought.

He shook his head knowing where you were going with this conversation, you both have been trying new drugs since high school, honestly you are surprised you made it this far in life with all the damage you must have done to your organs together. “But I shouldn’t let you try, I don’t think you’ll like how it’ll make you feel Babygirl”

You sigh before pulling in his fingers in front your chest from the hand that was hanging on your shoulder, “Doesn’t it make you feel good jake? You're gonna deny me?” you plead with him. “Ugh ok fine, but not here, I'm not getting in trouble for your bad trip, let’s go to our old room” he holds your hand as you both walk down the small hallways to the bed room, it's the last room in the hallways so it had a nice big window in it with the view of the forest.

You walk in taking off your shoes to lay on your bed, Jake walks over to the na’vi sized computer chair he insisted was in this room whenever he felt like coming over, he dragged it over to the table and sat down emptying some of the pretty blue powder on it, he lined it up with a ruler on your desk and snorted. You watch his pupils dilate even more before you walk up to the desk.

Jake tried to explain how you should take it but you quickly cut him off saying you’ve done coke before; you remember how to snort. Your sassy comments always make him laugh and he raises his hands up in surrender watching you bend over to the table a snort one of the more generous lines.

After 15 minutes of waiting, you start to feel annoyed. Jake sits happily numb on the chair, spinning and making weird noises, “jake this isn’t doing anything. Normal coke would kick in by now” you say laying back on the bed, “Then snort another line girl”

You hope off the bed and snort the remaining 2 more lines. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea, you stumble back onto jake’s huge thigh and his hand comes up to your back to stop you from falling. His hand covers your entire back and its very warm, almost hot. You melt into the feeling when he picks you up and puts you to sit on his thighs. “You ok?” he asked, you nod your head leaning back on his chest

He’s not wearing his cummerbund or arm guards that he usually would. He smells really good? He always smelt good but tonight, something is different. “So, tell me why you are over here partying it up, and getting drunk and high out of your mind instead of cuddling with your warrior princess wife and children jake?” you tilt your head back looking up at him your eyes have a mischievous glint but he makes no move to question it.

He only shrugs and says, “Don’t want to be there, I need a fucking break, who knew having children would be so fucking hard, I just can’t catch a break. Honestly, I have never been as annoyed in my entire life than I've been in this pass week. Those goddamn kids don’t fucking listen” His ranting makes you laugh

You wondered if your kids with him would have been so bad? But the two of you combined, it just might have been worse. “You know, I’m sorry you feel like that, kids are tuff huh” you giggle. You shut your eyes tightly as your skin starts feeling hot, hotter than his.

Jake feels it too and rest a big hand on your forehead just to make sure. “Jake I-..” you mumble before your get off his body and stand up on wobbling legs. You move to stand by the ac vent to cool down your body but it doesn’t really work. ‘Is this a bad trip? maybe you should have listened’

Without thinking you pull your crop top over your head, exposing your bra, this is not a weird thing for you and jake. He has seen you in many bras over the span of your life. “Is it hot?” you question, “No you’re tripping” he replies almost immediately.

Your vision becomes blurry, almost red when you look back at him then it hits you. The emptiness, the unbelievable, painful emptiness. Your hands came up to rest on your lower stomach as you hunched over, your eyes shut tightly as you try to coup with the feeling, you didn’t know if you were about to throw up or shit yourself, is this supposed to happen?

Jake noticing your state comes up to kneel in front of you, talking to you throw the feeling. All his words go in one ear and other the other as you try to catch your breath. However, you don't inhale oxygen, you inhale jake’s scent. It sends you spiraling, your eyes open looking up at him and he observes the color change from black to just a ring of white, you can still see him, your body becomes suddenly aware of his evert movement, every shift of his muscles, every inhale of air from the mask hanging around his neck.

“Jake help...” tears fall from your eyes “empty please- it's so empty it hurts!"

“What? What's empty?” he picks you up bridal style and rest you to lay down on your bed. You hunch over pulling your legs up to your chest and your hands in between your legs. Jake is panicking, how did he let this happen. “Hang on I’m gonna get some help” he starts to back away from you towards the bedroom door, “NO! Come back come back Help me!!” you shout at him, one hand reaching out for him.

Jake only now realizes what is going on when he turns back to face you and he gets hit with your strong scent, you are horny, you are wet. He knows what this smells like because of his now sensitive nose, and from all the times you came to the clan and picked up a nice young adult to fuck you through the night. ‘So, this is what happens to humans? Fuck she took a lot’

He watched you writhe in pain trying to make the emptiness go away, he knows this must be awful for you. He remembers the first time he experienced Neytiri’s heat, it must he so much worse for a human. He can’t leave you like this, he caused this, he let you take those drugs, and so much of it too, you’re his best friend, he’ll have to help you.

It’s not cheating. You are his best friend, since he could walk. Then after he started walking again. You have never left his side not once; he could always rely on you for everything. He would be a horrible person if he left you like this. “Ok, ok Babygirl let me help you” his voice was nervous but he still walked up to you and unbuttoned your pants pulling it down your flawless legs.

You kick the jeans off and your body tries to go back to its previous position but jake stops it with his hand holding both your knees. It isn’t that hard, you aren’t strong so he doesn't use much effort, he just makes sure he doesn’t hurt you. His eyes dart over your half naked body. It is tonight jake can admit, you were always incredible hot, but you have grown into one of the hottest chicks he’s ever seen in his life, like right up there with his wife.

He takes a deep breath when his eyes make contact with your panties that you have soaked up so much that even your thighs got some slick on it. “Jake pleeease” your sweaty hands grip his large fingers as you try to pull him closer. “Ok, ok-” he visibly swallows as he nervously answers. Jake is still very high, he has so much energy in him, he could fuck you until you pass out. But he knows you aren’t in your right mind, what if you regret his choice to help you. Fuck that

Jake didn’t even try to talk to you again he just pulled your panties off a little too harshly pulling your entire body down and accidently ripping them in the process, but you didn’t care. When the cool air hit your wet pussy, you were reeling, your slick was thick, the wider jake spread your legs the long the string in the middle connected your folds, and he loved it.

He wanted so bad to get in your pants but he didn’t want to be unfaithful, that’s not the kind of person he is. His groan sent shockwaves through you just hearing him, you shut your eyes as you reach out for him when his head bullies its way in between your legs, it's like wrapping your legs around a tree trunk, this man was huge compared to you.

You didn't spend too much time pondering over that when you felt his wet tongue dart between your folds as if he was tasting you. You moan loudly at the slight bit of relief it gave you. Your hands tangled into his dreads as you pull him closer to you. Jake’s big hands snaked up your body resting on your tits that are hidden under the bra. One of his hands moved under you to the hook and unhooked it effortlessly with his big fingers, your legs were thrown over his should hanging up in the air, you toes curled when he sucked so sweetly on your clit.

You thought you’d cum on the spot but nothing prepared you for when his cat like tongue pushed its way into your hole making you clench around him. He groaned at the feeling sending vibrations through your cunt. His fingers played with your small nipples, rubbing and pressing on your sensitive nubs making you squirm and whimper in his grasp.

Jake felt his loincloth tighten when he left you gush on his tongue, and like a good boy, he lapped it all up. Jake didn’t let a drop of your pussy juice touch the bedsheets he slurped it all up. The obscene noises finally came to note when you were coming down from your high and you realized what you had done in your moment of clarity. You looked down at jake’s head stuffed in between your thighs as you squirm to back away from him.

But fuck, it felt so good having him down there. Watching his huge body bend to make sure you were comfortable, watching him kneel on the floor half off your bed, all for you. “Fuck Jake!” his finger slipped right in, you didn't even process his hand had moved from your tits but now it was pumping in and out of you. You throw your head back enjoying this as much as you can before it’s over, you mewl when he adds another finger gripping his forearms tightly, “Gosh baby, this pussy is stretching so nice for me” his mouth detaches from your clit to raise up and say that before he goes right back down.

You arch your back feeling yourself come for the second time on his mouth, you feel his fingers speed up hitting your g-spot amazingly with every small thrust. You aren’t even sure his entire fingers are in there but you don’t care. You scream out his name when you cum on his fingers. Your body shakes as your dig your nails into his skin.

When he pulls out his fingers and raises his head, he looks up at you with a goofy smile, “Feel good baby? Did you like that?” his sweet laugh following his words as he observes your fucked out face. You nod laughing along with him and pull on his arm for him to lay on the pillows next to you.

Luckily, you have one of the bigger avatar beds on your room so jake fits fine, your body curls up into his warm chest as you catch your breath and his arms are thrown over you, “Jake...”

“shh..its ok, we can take about it after, tomorrow when we both sober up” he shushes you and pulls you a bit closer, your thigh grazes his bulge hidden under the loincloths and you feel the familiar emptiness return. You boldly run your hand down his abdomen feeling the slight fat that accumulated over the years, you think it’s pretty fucking hot, he’s not a dad, he’s a daddy now.

You grip his bulge running your small palm up and down his big, thick length. You feel hotter thinking about all the things he could do to you with it, jake doesn’t stop you, he has some idea by now your symptoms mimic that of a female na’vi’s heat. He knows you aren’t done yet.

The fingers on your other hand trial to his tail, untying his loincloths and pulling it off his body, you are a bit dazed as you watch it spring up in between your bodies resting nicely on the entire length of your stomach. The size difference only makes you want to take him more. Your mind is completely dazed now when you sit up pushing him to lay on his back. Jake has yet to say anything just taking in the feeling of your small, soft hands stroking his cock, he watching your smaller body bend over and drop a blob of spit right on the head making him hiss.

You make no move to suck him off though and jake is fighting all his urges not to push your head down on him. He could just imagine how good it would feel for your sweet, small mouth sucking in his cock head-

“Jake-” you look at him with pleading eyes. “Go ahead, do whatever you have too” he says to you in a soft tone. You swing your legs over his body straddling his thighs, still stroking his cock with both your hands.

You sit up over his cock and slowly sit yourself down on it. If it weren’t for the drugs in your system, you know this stretch would have been painful, but right now. It feels so fucking delicious. How have gone this entire time without feeling this. When your bottom out on his huge cock there is a noticeable bulge in your tummy going up to your navel. Jake looks like he's about to explode.

One of his hands cover his eyes and the other squeezes the flesh of your hip tightly. His teeth are clenched, biting down on nothing leaving his fangs on full display. It looks so sexy; you wish he’d bite you a bit-

“Fuck Babygirl you’re so fucking tight” he says through his teeth, his eyes finally uncovered and looking down at you. His comment makes you grin wickedly, you bet he’s never felt anything like this before, anyone like you.

You raise your hips moving up and down with shallow thrust as you get used to his massive cock, but you are so horny and his cock seems to be the only thing that's helping you fill the emptiness you once felt. You feel like if you pull out completely you are gonna turn inside out, but it feels fucking amazing.

“Yea you like that?” your movements speed up causing your cute, perky tits to bounce in his face. One of his hands push you close to him from your back while you bounce up and down on him, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. His tongue flicks making you mewl, you grind down on his cock somehow fitting more of it up there causing him to moan, “fuck- fuck yess” his hands come down to rest on your hips helping you bounce on him by effortlessly raising you up and dropping you back down.

He moves your entire body on him, using you as some kind of flesh light but you aren’t complaining, you love this feeling, he is gonna make you come so hard on him, you feel like your gonna spray. “Baby your clenching, I didn’t even think it was possible for you to get tighter fuck-” jake pants, cursing under his breath as the feel of your body in him.

“God, I used to think about this all the time, bouncing this sweet little ass on my big cock” jake moans, his chest vibrates with it, almost like he’s purring. Your small hands come to rest on his chest for some stability. His thrust becomes erratic.

You can hear his tail thumbing on the bed harshly as it moves around. Your vision blurs with tears but this time it's from pleasure. You can’t focus, everything moves so fast with his pace. You scream out when his large palm presses down on the bulge in your lower stomach. “Feel that baby? That's me deep inside your little cunt.”

“Yes! Yes- I- feels so good Jaaake” you whimper and pant trying to speak. You know he likes what you said when his grip tightens impossibly and he smirks at your words. He watches you intensely as he uses your body to get off but he knows you love it. He doesn’t even want to admit how much he loves it and fuck he loves it so much.

He has wanted to feel the inside of this pussy since you got older, in your 20s when you blossomed into this beautiful, sexy little thing. But by then he was already mated with his first son on the way. Oh, how he's glad he’s getting the chance to fuck you now, he doesn't feel like he ever wants to stop but when you scream out his name for the millionth time tonight and your juices squirt all over his abdomen and thighs, he knows he’s not lasting long.

He bounces you faster on him overstimulating you, making you wail out for him some more. His thrust ease slightly when he’s pumping his cum into you. Jake has 4 kids already, but Eywa he’s hoping this one takes. He doesn't pull out of your spent hole; he just lets you collapse on his chest and he rubs your back for comfort as you pass out on him.

What a perfect fucking party, Jake couldn’t have asked for anything better than this. Just like the good old days.

✨ I hope you enjoyed reading! Repost, comments and likes are always appreciated! If anyone would like to be added or removed from the Taglist feel free to comment!🩵

Taglist:

@strongheartneteyam @rivatar @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @xylianasblog @quicktosimp @xrollingmyeyesx

#avatarsurvivethenight #jake x reader #jake <3 #jake sully x reader #jake sully imagine #dilf jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x fem reader #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #avatar pandora #avatar jake sully #avatar

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tallulah477 · 1 year ago

Text

Fill Me Up

Kinktober Day 15: Size Difference

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Size Difference, Belly bulge, Creampie, Mention of free hanging over a tall height (not sex related), Very brief mention of possibly falling to one’s death

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Guess who has full use of her account again babyyyyyy! Now no one's comment sections or asks are safe. Thank you, tumblr, for finally fixing the glitch after a week. Anywho~ fic is late (again), but I hope you enjoy it <3

Summary: There’s plenty of things Neteyam loves about how tiny you are, but none of them can compare to how you feel wrapped around his cock.

Translations:

Tewgn - Loincloth

Yerik - Animal resembling a gazelle or antelope

Tawtute - Human

Palulukan/Thanator - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

Nantang - Hyena/wolf-like animal

Tanhì - Star, bioluminescent freckle

Neteyam’s favorite thing about you is how tiny you are compared to him.

When he first saw you, you captured his attention completely. He had been hunting a yerik near the human outpost, his body hidden in the foliage behind the cover of some nearby plants, bow drawn at the ready to take his shot.

A rustle on the opposite side of the small clearing grabbed his attention, halting his movements, and the yerik lifted its head slightly from where it had been nibbling on some bits of tree bark.

You slowly walked through the brush, tiny hands lifted up to show that you meant no harm as your eyes stayed glued on the yerik. Neteyam watched in curiosity as you slowly approached the animal, moving cautiously, careful not to startle it as you moved closer. To his surprise, the animal let you. Deeming you no threat, the animal went back to its snack and didn’t move an inch when you reached out to place a delicate hand on its blue striped skin.

Your smile, even through your mask, was blinding and Neteyam’s eyes widened as the sound of your giggle hit his eardrums. He thinks that was the moment he fell for you completely - just watching you admire your small hands on the larger animal’s back. He watched you the rest of the afternoon, leaving his hunt behind and stalking you through the forest as you studied various plants, taking samples and shoving them in a small backpack slung over your shoulder.

He learned you worked closely with the human scientists, were one of them actually - ‘a very smart xenobotanist’ his father had told him when he asked. He had never seen you before, always choosing to avoid the cramped and all too chemical smelling lab and making sure to stay outside when he would be sent to get Lo’ak and Kiri during their visits with Spider and Kiri’s mom.

What a mistake that was, he had thought.

When he finally got the courage to meet you face to face, he was worried you were going to panic about the size difference. He stands at a respectable 9 feet tall, towering over your smaller frame at nearly twice your height. His build is even bigger than most Na’vi as well, a benefit from having some human genes courtesy of his once human father. His body is lean and long like a Na’vi, and there’s no denying that the average Na’vi is incredibly strong, especially compared to humans. But the muscles in his shoulders, arms, and back are much more visible than the average Na’vi, his thighs bulkier in their strength, and he knows the look makes him seem even more intimidating than he actually is.

But you don’t react the way he thinks you might, and is shocked even more when he presents you with the small woven bracelet adorned with polished beads that he made you as a courting gift and you don’t immediately throw it back at him.

Instead, you take the gift graciously, holding it to your chest like it’s something precious. He watches with wide eyes as your own scan down his body, slowly taking in the angles of his face, the dip of his collarbones, the hard canvas of his chest and down the flat plane of his belly. They hover a bit longer around his tewng, your tongue poking out to wet your lips, and when your eyes flick back up to meet his, they’re completely blown - only a small sliver of color left around the darks of your pupils.

The smirk gracing your beautiful, plump lips is absolutely wicked.

Being with you comes with different expectations than being with a Na’vi woman. You need help, a lot - your tiny tawtute body is not equipped to handle the extreme environment that Pandora throws at you. Neteyam can navigate the terrain just fine, stepping over fallen branches or large growths of shrubbery, jumping large rocks and creeks like it doesn’t even phase him to do so. Because it doesn’t, his body was made for it. Yours, on the other hand, was not.

So Neteyam does his best to help you out. He’d carry you around all the time, if it were up to him. He doesn’t mind. Loves it even - loves the feel of your soft body against his as you cling to him. So small and easy to carry, arms wrapping around his neck while his big hands support your thighs as you hang on him like the small backpack you were wearing the first day he saw you.

But you’re a stubborn woman. An ‘I can do it myself’ kind of woman, and, even though each journey without him carrying you takes significantly longer than when he does, he doesn’t mind, enjoying every additional second he has in your presence. He’ll hold your hand, or give you a supportive hand on your butt to lift you up and over any obstacle, because you’re just so beautiful with that proud grin on your face when you’ve accomplished something hard.

He likes to tease you, using his height to his advantage. You’re notorious for stealing the last few bites of Neteyam’s yovo fruit. Your excuse is that since you’re the one that cut it, you should be able to have some too. Neteyam always agrees with this fact, but you knock back bite after bite with the desperation of a hungry thanator, and when it comes to the end of the bowl and he’s only had a few pieces himself - he knows exactly how to put a stop to your yovo fruit destruction.

“Neteyam,” You whine, jumping up and trying to reach his arm to pull the bowl back down. His arm stays solid where it is as he pops another bite of fruit in his mouth. “Give it back! I want some,”

“You ate the whole thing already,” He laughs, grabbing your reaching hand with the one not currently holding the bowl and pressing it back against your chest. “My little hungry palulukan, let me eat some, yes?”

He makes up for his ‘inexcusable use of his gargantuan height’ by cuddling you after, wrapping his entire body around yours as he pulls you close. You feel so safe in his embrace, protected from everyone and everything who could ever try to hurt you. Just let them try to come and grab you from his unwavering hold - your big, strong teddy bear who’s flat nose presses against your neck, docile and sweet with his shielding hold around his love, turning fierce and wild at the first hint of any danger.

He loves your curves, loves how soft and squishy you are compared to everyone else. The Na’vi women are all lean, hard muscle, beautiful in their own right - but you, your hips that mold under his fingers, plump chest that feels so good under his head when he rests on it, small fingers playing with his braids that lull him to sleep. No one can compare to you.

And he loses his breath when he thinks about how much you trust him. He’s your protector, he knows that more than anyone. He would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat, fight tooth and nail to keep you safe from anything - but you have these . . . adrenaline rushes. Moments where you can’t help but want to feel a sense of excitement and the feeling of complete freedom that comes with it from doing something daring. You're able to contain it mostly - it’s not like you’re jumping off mountains or cliff diving into the freezing water.

You like to test him, try to catch him off guard by climbing on tall rocks or on the lower tree branches and throwing yourself at Neteyam giggling like a nantang about to attack. He always catches you, arms wrapping safely around your smaller frame and never letting you hit the ground. The antics used to scare him, prompting him to give you long, frustrated lectures about how he’s responsible for your safety and you shouldn’t purposefully put yourself in dangerous situations. But you would just shrug him off, heart still beating faster in your excitement and tell him that he should just always be there to catch you then.

Now, he helps you get your fill - laying on his stomach on a high tree limb as he slowly lowers you over the side, large hand wrapped securely around your forearm while your own hand wraps around his wrist. He lets you dangle there, suspended in the air over nothing but what would be a long drop and a rather nasty death if you actually fell. But he would never drop you, and the look of pure thrill and happiness on your face as you hang there overlooking the vast expanse of forest and feeling like you’re invincible always makes his chest flood with warmth. He especially loves it when you look up at him and grin, reaching up to grab his wrist with your other hand, too, and playfully kicking your feet, swinging slightly and using his arm like your very own personal swingset.

But his favorite thing about your size is how tight you feel wrapped around him.

You look so gorgeous, laying on the forest floor and spread out for him like the delicious feast you are. Your back arches, breasts jiggling with each movement as you grind harder against his face. He sucks savagely at your clit, two fingers curling just so inside of you, pressing against that special spot that makes you see stars.

“Neteyam, please,” You whine, leg lifting up to drape over his shoulder, trying to pull him closer.

“What’s wrong, tanhì?” He murmurs, voice sending vibrations through the sensitive nub between your thighs. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks up at you through hooded lids, the usual amber of his irises nearly completely overtaken by the darks of his pupils.

“Stop teasing,” You breathe, walls clamping down tightly around his fingers. His head looks so big between your thighs, his fingers thick and long where they’re thrusting inside you. “Just put it in already. Want you to fill me up.”

“You’re not ready,” He says, sounding drunk as he breathes in your arousal. “Need to stretch you out more.”

“I’m not an amateur,” You grunt, glaring down at him. “I’m stretched out enough,”

His eyes stay locked on yours, unamused at your little tantrum even as he gives your clit another firm lick, textured tongue swiping across the swollen nub as pushes his last finger into your drenched cunt. You whimper at the stretch, humping his fingers and face as you chase your orgasm. You feel so full already, so full with only three fingers and it's not enough. Not enough when you know just how full you’ll really feel with his cock inside you. His long, hard, thick, beautiful cock that he’s currently pressing into the ground but that should be pushing into you instead.

The coil in your belly tightens, and your fingers grip onto his hair, pulling the braids tightly as the pressure bursts and you cum, squirting all over his face and thrusting fingers. He works you through your orgasm, fingers digging into your sopping hole and lips attaching to your clit as you ride it out. Wave after wave of pleasure rushing through your body as you scream.

When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers from you, ears perking at the wet noise your pussy makes as it tries desperately to stay clinged to him. You pant, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him kneel in front of you - large body blocking the setting sun behind him and you watch in awe at how he can look so beautiful in his orange glowing halo.

His skilled fingers untie his tewng, pulling it from his body and letting his hard cock slap against his belly. Your mouth waters at the sight. It stands proudly, tall and thick and nearly the size of your forearm - dark blue stripes and sparkling tanhì decorating the shaft all the way up to the lilac tip that’s already dripping with precum.

You want it inside you so badly.

He moves to crawl over you, lips pressing reverently against your neck before you pull back, mischievous smirk on your face as you crawl backwards away from him.

His hairless brows furrow at your distance. “Ma y/n, what is wrong?”

“You’re so mean to me,” You tell him, scooting back even further as he tries to get closer to you.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m mean to you?”

“Mhm,” You hum. He moves closer again, faster this time as he tries to cage you under him, but you scramble away again. “I beg and beg for your cock, and all you do is deny me.”

“I’m trying to give it to you now,” He huffs.

“Well, what if I don’t want it now?” You say with all the attitude you can muster, and your heart pounds in excitement at his dark glare.

“Woman,” He growls, a wicked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Come here,”

With lightning quickness, he grabs your ankles and pulls your body towards him. You squeal at the sudden movement, giggling as your body flops when he manhandles you into the position he wants. He flips you over onto your stomach, gripping your hips and dragging your lower half up so they’re flush against his. One of his hands finds your upper back, pushing you down further into the moss covered ground and pinning you against the forest floor.

You moan when you feel his cock slide through your slick folds, gathering your wetness on his length as his tip bumps rhythmically against your clit.

“You don’t have to be a brat, tanhì,” He says, his grin audible in his voice as he rocks his hips, and your breathing hitches when the head of his cock catches on your entrance. “You know I’ll always give you what you want.”

You whimper desperately as he starts to push inside of you, large cock bullying its way into your tight pussy. The stretch is glorious, your body molding to take his length, and the burn making your mouth fall open in a silent scream as he pushes in further, inch by inch - and it feels so good, so fucking good and you cry for more, cry for faster despite the fact that you feel like you might split in half.

He ignores you, pushing into you at the pace that he wants, not you. And you both let out satisfied moans when he’s finally buried deep inside you. You feel like he’s in your guts and a large dopey smile graces your lips at the thought of your body being completely used by him, any and all important body parts and organs pushed to the side to make space for his even more important cock.

You can feel yourself dripping on the ground beneath you, long lines of slick dripping from off your clit and onto the moss below. The burn has subsided into a dull pleasure, and your eyelashes flutter as Neteyam adjusts his stance behind you, leveraging himself onto one knee with one foot planted on the ground. Your pussy clings to him as he pulls halfway out, not wanting to let even an inch of him leave your tight heat, and you gasp when he slams back in.

“What happened, baby?” Neteyam teases, pulling back out and pushing in again, your eyes crossing when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “You had so much to say earlier.”

“Nughh, f-fuck,” You whine.

You can do nothing but take it as he thrusts into you, fingers so tight on your hips that you know there’s going to be bruises afterwards. His cock drags against your walls, balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, and sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine. Your hands try to find purchase on the ground but can’t find anything to grab onto, and your fingernails dig into the dirt just to do something.

Your second orgasm is quickly approaching, the intense stretch and constant battering against your cervix combined with Neteyam’s husky voice in your ear grunting ‘you feel so tight, baby. Feel so good. Fuck,” pushing you closer and closer to that sweet edge of bliss that you’ve been craving ever since you dragged Neteyam out here.

“Teyam, g-gonna c-cum,” You whimper, and in an instant he drags you up by the back of your neck, hand sliding around to the front of your throat to keep you pressed against his sternum.

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum?” He asks, huge hand moving to caress the large bulge now visible in your belly. “Gonna cum for me, tanhì?”

You whimper at the contact and your hand drops to massage at your throbbing clit. “Please! Please, I’m so close. So fucking close,”

“Shh,” He says, hand gently rubbing the jumping bulge as he continues to rock into you. “Cum for me, baby,”

You scream, pleasure ripping through you when his hand presses down hard on the bulge. Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, your hand rubbing furiously over your clit as you squirt all over the ground below you. He roars as your pussy clenches and pulses around him, drenching him in your essence, and with only a few extra thrusts he’s cumming too, spilling into your warm, tight, tawtute body and filling you up to the brim with his release.

It’s too much for you, too much and too hot as he paints your insides white. He’s still cumming even when you're full - his release spilling out of you from around his cock and mixing with your squirt in a puddle. You shake and twitch in his hold, a long hum of satisfaction ripping from your throat as your eyes roll back into your head.

You can hear him panting into your ear behind you, trying to recover from his own explosive orgasm, but he’s ready all the same when your body goes limp in his hold. He picks you up, carefully pulling your exhausted body off of his cock, and his strong arms cradle you to his chest.

“Just sleep now, ma y/n,” He says, gently brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from where it's stuck to your mask. “I’ll take care of you,”

A sleepy smile graces your lips and you let yourself fall asleep without argument. You know he’ll take care of you. He’ll always take care of you. Neteyam Sully - fierce Omatikaya warrior, eldest son of Toruk Makto, your protector, your lover.

And the man who can fill you up like no other.

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @teyamshuman

#lunaskinktober2023 #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader #taliewrites

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saintlucretia · 6 months ago

Text

Devil Wears A Suit

part Ⅰ

Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mention of murder. Hot devil's son. Sexual harassment? Michael Langdon.

Summary: Y/N is a purple at Outpost 3 and gets interviewed by Mr. Langdon.

A/N: I will go to hell for this and I am not opposing if he will be there too.

After 18 months at the underground Outpost life was as dreadful as being killed by a bomb explosion. Or worse. A bunch of snobs and shallow cowards. It was clear as day, that it was just a matter of time before everyone was at each other's throats.

It wasn’t the Outpost itself or the fact that we are the last human beings on this planet that made everything so depressing. It was boredom. A hole in my head. The only bearable person here was Mr. Gallant. Without his company at the dining table, I could have stuck a fork into my neck.

That evening Ms. Venable announced to us about a visitor. The agent of the Cooperative. Even though she remained calm as usual I sensed a note of fear in her voice. So it means this new man has great authority. I was grateful for any kind of entertainment, even if it meant a bloody revolution. After 18 months with the same people, fresh meat is always dainty.

Ms. Venable ended her speech when a tall man with long blond hair entered the room. He had a dark aura. The aura of power.

“My name is Langdon and I represent The Cooperative,” he said, circling our table. “Humanity is on the brink of failure.”

I glanced at the other residents of the Outpost. They all looked tense and nervous, especially Ms. Venable. She seemed almost afraid of him. Only Mr. Gallant seemed as amused as me. We glanced at each other and I immediately understood what was on his mind. After all, he had a good taste in men.

“My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth.” His speech was persuasive, words sharp and his blue eyes pierced into all of us. Such an ability to capture everyone's attention was making me delighted.

He stopped at the head of the table and continued. “The three other compounds have been overrun and destroyed.”

“What happened to the people inside?” asked Timothy worried.

“Massacred,” answered Langdon and I think I caught the shadow of a grin on his face.

I bit my lip to stop myself from chuckling. I had to admit, this Langdon was a very attractive man. And Mr. Gallant was obviously admiring his appearance too. But there was something about The Cooperative representative that made me feel uneasy. It was as if he was hiding something. Something very bad.

“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe… The Sanctuary,” he said, placing his hands behind his back. “I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us. The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call ‘Cooperating’. Simply, I will determine if you belong.”

I remained silent, analyzing the situation. Everyone seemed wary and looked at others with distrust. Only Coco didn’t have enough brains to remain silent and tried to openly express her dissatisfaction. Fortunately, her tirade was abruptly suppressed.

“I volunteer to go first.” Mr. Gallant raised his hand.

“And so you shall,” Langdon said threateningly, looking us over. He had a cold, calculating look in his eyes. I had a feeling that he already knew who he was going to select.

“The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won’t be kept in suspense forever. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you.” I felt his gaze on me and barely restrained myself from looking away.

Langdon left the room and everyone immediately started to argue. A bunch of morons, all of them. I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, observing the conversation. Everyone began to share their suspicions and guesses, but of course, they were all too wrapped up in their own fear to notice the whole thing. The Cooperative looked at us as laboratory rats and no one seemed to see that. Pathetic.

I let out a sigh of annoyance and left the room.

✦✦✦

I ran into Malcolm in the hallway an hour later and looked at him questioningly.

“Oh, darling, I almost had a heart attack." He came closer and started whispering "I'm a bit scared of him. He is definitely hot as hell, but twice as evil."

I chuckled. "Well, that's quite a review. Did he tell you anything new?"

Mr. Gallant leaned even closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "He asked me a lot of personal questions...I mean really personal."

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

“Like my sexuality for example. And my nana. And other… things. Pretty intimate. I felt so uncomfortable, but I tried to keep it cool.”

My eyebrows furrowed in interest. So these "Cooperating" sessions were, indeed, quite unique. It seemed like Langdon wanted to know every minuscule detail about each person. I began to wonder what kind of "personal" questions he would ask me. I also began to wonder why I was so looking forward to the moment.

“I felt like he was trying to rip out my soul.” Added Malcolm in a whisper.

I smirked. "Well, that's quite a dramatic way to describe it." Malcolm chuckled nervously but I had a feeling that he wasn't exaggerating. Langdon was certainly not the type of man that you could fool easily. He could see right through people.

But something was intriguing. I felt a strange thrill at the idea of uncovering the depth of Langdon's scrutiny.

"I guess I'll have to brace myself for my turn then," I said nonchalantly.

“Good luck sweetheart.” We kissed each other on the cheek and went in different directions.

I slowly walked to my quarters, lost in thought. I was feeling an inexplicable mixture of excitement and curiosity. The thought of being examined by Langdon, being exposed under the watchful gaze of his sharp eyes, was somehow appealing. God, I have to stop.

I shook my head firmly, trying to dismiss these thoughts. "This is ridiculous," I mumbled to myself softly.

Suddenly I heard something. Something like a scream perhaps. I stopped and looked around. There was no one except me in this dimly lit hall. And then this sound again. More like a whisper now. Millions of whispers. My head began to spin slightly. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. Silence. Everything went quiet. I turned around and flinched as I saw Langdon behind me.

“Mrs. Y/S, I’d like to talk with you next.”

I looked up at Langdon with a surprised expression, silently cursing myself for being so lost in my thoughts to the point of not noticing him coming closer. His presence was so powerful that it still made my heart flutter even now.

"Lead the way," I replied, trying to maintain my composure.

Langdon didn't bother answering, simply gesturing for me to follow him. I walked behind him through the maze of halls and rooms.

We finally reached the entrance to what appeared to be his cabinet. Langdon stepped aside, allowing me to enter first. Entering the room, I noticed how dark and ominous it felt. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with old leather-bound volumes. The main source of light was a fireplace.

Langdon gestured for me to sit down on the armchair across from him. I lowered myself gently, straightening my purple dress.

He studied me, wanted me to be nervous, wanted me to crack. I knew this game. I have played this game with many different powerful men, who think they are Gods because they have dicks. I never lose in a game like this.

His eyes searched my face, trying to find any sign of weakness. But I held his gaze firmly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated.

I leaned back in my seat, a small smirk on my lips. "I see you're expecting me to be quivering in my boots," I said with a hint of sarcasm.

Langdon chuckled darkly. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning slightly forward.

A silence fell between us, and I held his gaze without flinching. Something about his demeanor made my heart beat a little faster, but I was determined not to show it.

“I prefer conversations to be effective, Mr. Langdon.”

Langdon raised an eyebrow at my remark, a smirk forming his lips. He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. "Straight to the point, are we?"

He studied me for a moment, his eyes still locked onto mine.

"Well, I can appreciate a straightforward woman," he said, his voice surprisingly smooth. "It makes the process much more efficient."

He paused for a moment, his gaze never faltering. "Ms. Y/S," he began, my name rolling off his tongue like a sinful whisper. "Allow me to ask you a personal question."

“Ask,” I replied.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His eyes were laser-focused on me, and I could practically feel his gaze trying to pierce through my soul.

"What do you fear the most?" he asked, his tone almost gentle.

I was caught off guard by the question and made a mistake. Langdon noticed the slight flicker of surprise in my eyes. He chuckled softly. "That's what I thought," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "You may have mastered the art of bravado, but everyone has a weakness," he continued. "And I'm here to find yours."

I watched him back and after crossing my legs answered "I fear being surrounded by idiots for the rest of my life." I needled.

Langdon raised an eyebrow, visibly amused. "Well, you certainly have a way with words, don't you?", he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

He leaned back in his seat, studying me closely. "Being trapped in a group of lesser minds for eternity may be torturous, especially for a woman of your... intelligence."

“For a man of your power, it’s a pity that you use flattery as a term of manipulation,” I said, tilting my head in a mocking manner.

Langdon chuckled, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Ah, so observant," he said, still maintaining his smirk.

He leaned slightly forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'm not just using flattery, Ms. Y/S. I do recognize your intellect. But don't mistake my compliments for manipulation. I simply use the tools at my disposal."

“Huh.”

Langdon chuckled again, clearly appreciating my dry response. "You have a sharp tongue," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “It may be your unique feature or a pathetic attempt to hide your fear.”

I could feel a flicker of irritation at his words, but I forced myself to remain impassive. Langdon was trying to get a reaction out of me, and I was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"Perhaps it's a little bit of both," I replied, my voice cool and steady. "Or perhaps you're simply not used to people who don't cower easily in front of someone higher in rank."

He stood up from his seat and started circling me slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the room. “Be careful, Ms. Y/S. Your bold attitude is admirable, but at some point, this can play a cruel joke on you.” His gaze burned into me as he studied me from every possible angle.

“I appreciate the warning,” I said coldly. “I don't fear intimidation tactics.”

“You are a brave woman.” Langdon's voice was suddenly close behind me, his breath lingering on the nape of my neck. A small shiver ran down my spine, and I had to suppress the urge to turn around and look at him.

“A little too brave, some would say.” he continued, his words almost a whisper. “Tell me, Ms. Y/S, is it hard to be the smartest in the room? To be forced to communicate with idiots?”

There was a hint of mockery in his tone that made me nauseous. But I still refused to let him see any sign of weakness. I sat up straighter in my chair, lifting my chin.

“It can be... annoying at times,” I admitted.

“It is irritating how arrogant the upper class is, isn’t it? Especially toward women.” I felt the touch of his fingers on my arm and I barely restrained myself from snatching my hand away. “The world before the bombs wasn’t that much brighter than this one, was it? They all mistreated you, and never took you seriously… Does the idea of them having everything infuriate you?”

His words hit a nerve, the subtle truth in them cutting through my defenses. Yes, the world before the bombings was far from perfect, and I had my fair share of disappointments.

But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had managed to hit a weak spot. I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. “And what makes you think you're any different from them?”

He chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing along my skin, tracing patterns against the fabric of my dress. His nonchalant arrogance was both infuriating and strangely enthralling.

“Oh, I never claimed to be any different," he responded, his voice low and husky. “But I will say this - I appreciate intelligence, especially in women. I can see your potential.”

“Potential,” I repeated, struggling to keep my tone even. “For what, exactly?”

Langdon ignored my question. His hands, now both on my arms, crawled up to my shoulders. “Have you ever thought about punishing them? About finally showing what you are capable of, so they would never think you are only ‘pretty face’ again?” His breath tickled my ear. “Have you ever thought about making them scared of you?”

His hands on my shoulders were deceptively gentle, yet they seemed to burn against my skin through the fabric of my dress. His breath was warm against my ear as he whispered his words, making my breath hitch in my throat.

I felt a strange mixture of anger and... excitement at his words. The thought had crossed my mind more than once if I was being honest with myself. To show them ALL how strong and brilliant I truly was. To shuffle a knife into someone’s throat. I remained silent.

“I sense this force in you, Y/N.”

His voice seemed to fill the space between us, wrapping around me like a dark, intimate spell. He leaned closer, his chest almost pressed against my back. His hands remained on my shoulders, his fingers gently massaging my tense muscles.

There was something about his voice, the way he said my name, that sent a shiver down my spine. It was as if he could see right through me, past the cool exterior I had been trying to maintain. He knew about the anger, the desire, the fire burning within me.

“I can tell you have a dark side,” he murmured, his voice deep and low.

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” His hands continue to stroke my shoulders gently. He was amused by my denial.

“You don't have to play coy with me, Ms. Y/N," he said, his voice velvety smooth. “I can feel it radiating off of you. That simmering anger, that burning desire."

Langdon leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against my ear. “You want... power. And I can promise you that.”

His words were a seductive murmur, weaving their way into my mind and planting thoughts of power and revenge. It was as if he knew exactly what buttons to push, what desires to awaken within me.

"Power," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My mind was swimming, both alarmed and intrigued by his proposal. I felt like I was hypnotized. "Why… What’s the point?"

Langdon chuckled softly, noticing the effect his words were having on me. He stepped away from me, his hands finally leaving my shoulders. He walked around the chair, standing in front of me again.

"Because, my dear," he began, "I've observed your potential. Your intelligence, your resourcefulness, your strength. You're not like the other people in this house. You have ambition. And ambition can lead to power."

He tilted up my chin gently, so I could meet his gaze. "And I can help you achieve it." His thumb traced my jawline, sending a shiver down my spine.

When his finger brushed against my bottom lip I grabbed his hand, stopping him. He smirked and leaned closer, his face only a few inches away from mine.

“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery. “Did my touch... unsettle you?”

With a swift, almost graceful movement, Langdon sank to his knees in front of me. His hand found its way to my knee, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of my dress.

“I think the interview is over,” I said, trying to stand up, but he pressed on my knee, not letting me get up.

“I will decide if it’s over or not, Ms. Y/S,” Langdon smirked at my silence, slowly running his hand higher up my thigh. He could clearly see the effect he was having on me, the slight tremble in my body.

“What?” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “No witty comeback? No clever quip? Seems like you're losing your grip.”

"Losing my grip?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "Hardly. I am just amused by your behavior." Even a blind person would see my bluff and feign confidence.

“Oh? Really?” He stood up a bit, leaning closer to my face, almost whispering in my mouth. His proximity was intoxicating, his breath hot against my lips. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, the desire coursing through my veins like a current. He slowly brushed his lips against mine and I felt a touch of his tongue on my bottom lip.

It felt like drugs. It felt better than drugs. His tongue teasingly tracing along my bottom lip sent a shiver down my spine, making my legs tremble beneath me. It was overwhelming. I have never felt like this before. In that very second I could do anything for this man.

Suddenly he stopped and looked me right into my eyes, smirking satisfiedly almost like he read a thought that just got in my mind.

He stood up, turning away from me and I bit my tongue not to moan in disappointment.

“We’re done for today, Ms. Y/S. It was a pleasure talking to you,” He said, opening the door for me. Smirk remained on his face, but Langdon seemed very calm. As if he didn’t just kneel and almost kiss me two minutes ago.

I needed a few seconds to understand what had happened, so I blinked and then quickly stood up walking toward the door.

“Hope you have a good night, Ms. Y/S,” he said watching me and I can swear, as he was saying that, his hand slid to cover his groin and he definitely wanted me to notice that.

“Good night, Mr. Langdon,” I mumbled and left the room.

What the fuck has just happened?

part two

#I NEED him in the most sinful ways #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon #cody fern #ahs apocalypse #ahs fandom #michael langdon x you #michael langdon imagine #american horror story #ahs coven #ahs murder house #mr gallant

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toska-writes · 9 months ago

Note

Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.

So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)

“Got your back”

Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back

Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)

Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread

Word count: 1688

Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why

Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.�� He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor

#star wars #star wars clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars #the clone boys #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #the delta squad #delta squad x reader #delta squad #republic commando #clone commando boss #clone commando fixer #clone commando sev #clone commando scorch #x platonic!reader #padawan reader #reader insert

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cherriesnfangs · 18 days ago

Text

“ Is it that sweet ? i guess so “

༺♡༻

ESPRESSO

re4r! leon s. kennedy x agent!reader

cw - nsfw ( MDNI ) , minor deaths , blood/spit

up blood , touch starved leon, hair pulling ,

fem! reader, exhibitionism , both parties are

consenting . no use of y / n

this is my first fanfic so please let me know

on how i did , my love <3

word counter - 10k

BANG !

a loud noise that permeated throughout the hallways of the abandoned and worn down factory on the island that him and his assigned partner were on but he was currently in another room — looking for his things because when he got knocked out and someone or something stole his gear so he was defenseless for now but not entirely .

stumbling in front of the mysterious woman , the plaga infected villager before turning around and yelling out curse words in spanish before multiple rounds of shots began firing at the villager to make sure they wouldn’t be standing for very long . the villager ended up on the ground but it looked up at her with its piercing red eyes with the dark colored veins that were prominent within its eyes and it was met with a bullet to the head , its blood splattering everywhere amongst the dirt ground of the village outpost . the woman looked at the dead body as it squirmed and writhed underneath the heel of her shoe and she heard a plethora of squeals and squelches that came from the dead villager body and saw multiple tiny tendrils come out from the crevice of its neck .

disgusted , she brought out her combat knife that was custom made to her likeness and she brought the knife to the tendril that was seeping out through the crevice of the once dead villager who now was about to have its head explode but she managed to kill it in time . standing upright and dusting the imaginary dust that happened to be on her pants and looked at the body before averting her gaze back upright in the decrepit hallways of the castle of ramón salazar , the worshipper of lord saddler , the creator of los illuminados .

footsteps now emitting in the background as they began to do a subtle shuffle against the factory grounds with shards of glass crunching underneath the boot of the mysterious person behind the woman , turning her head to look at him from the corner to see on whom it was but it was nobody than the person that she was assigned to help on the mission to retrieve the president ‘s daughter from the sinister cult ‘s grasp .

leon s. kennedy .

the blonde haired man looked down at the villager before it was reduced to nothing but a thick black smoke and it disappeared into nothingness and he looked at the woman right next to him . you . one of the other assigned dso agents that were supposed to help him in his rescue mission , asked by the president himself to have him and you rescue ashley graham , his daughter that happened to be kidnapped by the cult and brought back to spain on one of the remote islands . you take a quick glance to gaze straight forward before stepping first , the soles of your combat boots crunched above the broken shards of glass and made squishes and splats with the small water puddles that were within the factory grounds .

the other dso agent tilted his head upright , his blonde locks now resting against his forehead and his lips pursed into a thin line — the man pressed forward and following in suit after you as you two turn a corner , something caught his eye .

his gear but his jacket wasn’t to be seen so he deemed that one of the villagers had stolen it in the process when he was in the other room with the other guy that happened to let him out of the chains after he ran off . leon raised his leather fingerless gloved hand to his temples before rubbing them subtly — mostly out of slight impatience and irritation due to one of his personal favorite jackets were stolen but he quickly brought himself back together quickly before she could notice that he was slightly irritated and he brought himself back together with the same poker face that was mistaken by everyone that he was already mad .

leon saw the door that was holding his stuff captive , he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to maneuver the door but it became fruitless . he looked around to see if there was another way until he heard a whistle calling his attention and he looked in the direction that the whistle called to get his attention , you happened to stand in another part of the factory that had broken walls and rusted metal pipes sticking out from the broken off walls of the factory . in different corners stood in idle were barrel debris that were previously smashed in by you and grabbed the handgun ammunition from the barrels that only gave her 10 — which would do you good for now until you meet back up with the merchant to see if there was any bullets that he had in stock .

leon followed in pursuit and he made his way around the barriers that had rusted pipes sticking out precariously . once the two assigned dso agents made it around to the other side of the room that held his utility belt captive along with his gun and harnesses , he noticed a yellow wheel crank that was attached to the other door and thought that it could be used to open the other side of the door . leon took a quick glimpse at his things before turning the wheel in clockwise motion while the door was lifting up . once he stopped , thinking that it’ll stay opened — the door started to slowly drop down but he couldn’t take chances so he looked at you , who was scanning out the area of the room that you two were in and he whistled you over .

“ hey , can you hold the wheel so i can rush back and get my things ? “ he asked , the tones within his voice seemed to be a bit gruff but it was just how he normally talked so it wasn’t something new to react about . you looked at the wheel before giving a silent nod and walked over to the blondet and took a hold of the wheel , your hands subtly brushing up against his own gloved hand before he had time to pull away as you turned your attention to the wheel before looking at him through the corner of your eye and giving him a subtle nod in silence .

“ i’ll hold this while you go get your things , don’t worry . i got it over here if any villagers come up . “ you spoke , holding the wheel in place so the door wouldn’t slowly descend and blocking leon ‘s chances to get his utility belt back from inside of the room . the blondet gave a small nod , knowing that you got it from the other side and he turned on his heel and walked back towards the room , stepping over shards of glass and he took a subtle glance at you from the corner of his eye in a quick glance because he didn’t want you to see that he was staring at you and he averted his icy blue eyes towards his fingerless gloved hand and looked at it for a moment .

‘ her skin is soft .. ‘ he thought to himself , his mind wondering if it was just your hand that was soft and his thoughts began to process things a tiny bit further before he blinked out of his thoughts before they turned against him and started to show suggestive imagery . “ hey — kennedy , we don’t got all day and we got to rescue ashley . “ you exclaimed from the other side of the room that held his things captive for now because you continued to hold the wheel crank so the door didn’t descend back into its original place . leon furrowed his eyebrows slightly and gave them an eye roll to take a glance at a corner of the ruined factory — green herb was sitting on top of crates , juxtaposed upright and a subtle wind through the cracks of the opened walls of the abandoned factory made its leaves shake and do a subtle dance .

the blondet went over and grabbed the herb and stuffed it into his pockets , soon would be crafting a mix of his red herb that he kept on pockets because his luck whenever it came to red herb instead of the other two colors were more common than he’d thought that he’d been . coming into the room , he grabbed his utility belt that held all of his items and heard a small click from the belt emitting a soft noise that was able to be heard because of how eerily quiet the factory was — it was quiet that you can possibly heard the little scurries of rats moving along or a subtle breeze of the wind coming into the broken walls of the factory .

seeing that leon made it into the room , you released the yellow crank wheel that brought the door down slowly and brought your hands together and brushed them off and watched the man put his utility belt around his waist . “ you should be able to get through now , leon . “ you spoke and turned around , checking how much ammunition you had left from killing the villager that was reduced to black smoke from minutes ago as your locks draped and hung in mid air, framing your face before you swipe your revolver to the side , the barrel forcing its way back into the gun and your eyebrows knitted together before stuffing your hands into your pants , pulling out a fresh box of handgun ammunition .

hearing the subtle clinks of the bullets being inserted into the chamber , leon adjusted his belt and opened the steel bar door and pressed forward with you following in suit . the smell of rust , blood , decay and other unknown things were evident within the abandoned factory on the island that you and leon were told that ashley graham or code name — “ baby eagle “ was on this island and in a church somewhere but until then — you had to pass by some landmarks so it was memorable , at least . the subtle crunch of glass and the squelching of crimson colored blood was made underneath the soles of your combat boots and leon ‘s shoes as to make the atmosphere seem less tense with unsettling noises — but hey ! what do you got to lose ?

as the two of you made your way out of the exit of the abandoned factory , the mysterious man who had a black cloak but a dark forest green bandana that was covering most of his face except for his eyes and right next to him seemed to be an old fashioned type writer with a black stand up torch with a mesmerizing purple flame that emitted some light around its edges and shone down some lights that danced along with the sparkles of the colored fire as the sound created a satisfying crackle .

“ let’s do some business , ey ? “ the mysterious cloaked man asked and stood with a wooden desk table in front of him with a faded crimson and gold designed table cloth and an old fashioned table lamp as he placed his fingerless gloved hands amongst the table and stared at the both of you two , opening his cloak to show a litter of deadly firearms , ammunition , resources and first aid spray along with some guns that were hiding underneath the cloak and the man stuffs his cloak back to its original state before staring at the two of you . you quirked an eyebrow before shoving your handgun into your gun holster and brought out the amount of peseta ‘s that you’ve managed to find — 15 , 000 peseta ‘s in a small pleather pouch and the man looked at you with a subtle hint of amusement .

“ why don’t you take a look at that ? i got some good things on sale for you two , strangers . “ he spoke , his voice with the hints of gruffness through the dark forest green bandana that was precariously wrapped around his face besides his eyes and patiently waited to see if you were wanting to sell , trade with spinels or buy anything from what he has in stock but in the long run — you ended up buying more gunpowder and resources to make your handgun ammuntion and a few bottles of first aid spray — giving some to leon because he wasn’t sure if he picked up any peseta ‘s on the way to the merchant ‘s little temporary store and with whatever of the peseta ‘s you had left , you ended up giving them to leon so he can repair his combat knife .

after having a temporary stop at the merchant ‘s stand , you and leon turned to see a gate that needed a key to get it open , much to your dismay . out of the corner of your eye — you notice a crate that was poorly painted with reflective yellow paint and your curiosity got the best of you , walking over and avoiding the giant heaps of old and damaged wood planks with concrete debris getting mixed up within the giant heaps , lifted the sole of your boot and kicked it , out came dropping a small bag of peseta ‘s . kneeling down and picking them up , you avert your gaze to the blondet who seemed to stare down the way and noticed a wooden gate . doing a subtle jog to catch up to the other agent , the two of you walked up to it after previously defeating a tendril infested villager who was welding an axe . you brought your pistol back into the holster and was about to open the doors until leon beat you to it .

pressing with the palms of his leather fingerless gloves and leaning forward to open the doors , subtle grunts were audible and you maneuvered past him . “ such a gentleman . “ you spoke with your head turned to look at him but not entirely and staring to catch a glimpse of him through the corner of your eye , the blondet rolled his icy blue eyes to another corner and pressed forward with you , him following in suit . seeing a plethora amount of wooden beams and huts on each side and some villagers held their flaming arrow cross bows in hand , not noticing you or leon coming into their place .

your eyebrows furrowed slightly and you went nearby leon and you looked at him through the corner of your eye with your lips pursed slightly , “ get ready — it looks as if they aren’t rolling out the red carpet for the both of us . “ you spoke and noticed handgun ammunition on a crate but it was grabbed by leon before you could’ve grabbed it — drawing out your pistol and your hand delicately placed on the wooden walls of the gorge where the villagers had built shacks and wooden platforms to support them within the safety of the gorge . leon drew out his pistol and saw a small amount of villagers , the two of you took a glance at each other before giving a subtle nod and stepping out from where you two were you previously were hiding to avoid their lurking gaze so you don’t get ambushed and possibly killed in action .

after multiple rounds of bullets and multiple splats of the tendrils that would’ve come out of their once alive bodies that were taken over to bounce back and try to see if they can kill you or leon off but it all went fruitless because him and you managed to kill off the last of the villagers that were attacking you and flying throwing axes at the two of you . you wipe the blood off of your mouth that managed to get on you after you used your own tactical knife that was custom designed to your liking . leon watched from the corner of his eye as his dirty blonde locks fell in front of his face for a few moments and he raised his head up .

remaining silent, the dirty blonde haired man opened his barrels of his handgun only to notice that he’s slowly running out and the cloaked mysterious man who was generous enough to sell you things and new guns didn’t seem to be anywhere near in sight so he’s going to have to go on a manhunt for gunpowder and resources if he wants more handgun ammunition for his gun . leon turned to look at you and he decided to clear the air and started speaking , “ find the hexagonal key . “ he spoke gruffly and began searching through the wooden huts that stood amongst the wooden bridges and ground within the gorge . you watched him disappear into one of the houses until he was further in .

turning your back , you carefully walk across one of the wooden bridges that seem to be steady with how many dead villager bodies were precariously strewn across it because of how many bullets were going through their skin, piercing their flesh as some blood splatters manage to make it onto your cheek . you take notice of this and bring your fist up and wipe it — smudging it within the process but hey . at least it’s off for now so you don’t have to worry about the president’s daughter becoming scared if you were going to turn into one of them .

examining one of the houses on an upper level , you walk in and find two barrels with reflective yellow paint that was poorly painted and set in juxtaposed . you take notice of the miniature log cabin and you bring your foot up and smash the barrels together , watching them crumble to the ground and out pops handgun ammunition and small sacks of gunpowder . within the other log hut , leon wasn’t so lucky when it comes to herbs or resources — he mostly had found gunpowder or red herbs and very few green herbs but he was stuck in thought and he was staring at his gloved hand and where his calloused hands grasped over yours gently back in the abandoned factory and at how soft your hands were and his eyebrows seemed to furrow in subtle frustration . he couldn’t get over the subtle touch of your hand and it led to him wanting more .

shaking his head in one movement to the side , he grumbled incoherent cuss words underneath his breath but he looked in front of him on the small white vanity that had paint chipping in all the places and making it collect dust in front of him that had a green herb in front of him and a singular bag of small resources , sitting juxtaposed atop the white paint chipped vanity in front of him . he grabbed them and used his red herb he previously found and made a mixed herb and stuffed it into one of his cargo pant pockets . leon looked around for a moment to gather his surroundings to see if there was anything he needed to collect before he left the house .

unfortunately for him , there wasn’t much left except for the plaga symbol drawn in a deep shade of red with a blue medallion hanging in mid air with a gold plaga symbol in the middle . leon brought his gun up but it already shattered before he could shoot it , quirking an eyebrow as he turned around to see you stuffing your gun into your gun holster . leon eyed you up and down for a quick moment and he shoved his gun back into his holster . “ mind telling me next time that your gonna try and shoot me ? “ he quipped in a gruff tone, you rolled your eyes to the side . “ you were taking too long to shoot at a medallion that was in your eye sight already now cmon i’ve managed to find the key that we need for the gate that’s nearby the abandoned factory . “ was all you had spoken to him and you began taking your leave out of the log hut .

leon watched you walk out of the log hut and he hesitated but he was about to reach his hand out to grab yours but you walked out before he could have the chance to . reluctantly , he followed out of the log hut and he watched you climb down a ladder and dropping down the rest of the way there as he grabbed onto the ladder and slid down it with his boots touching the edges of the ladder as he slid before jumping off at the last few steps on it , landing safely as he looked at you with a nod of approval . the two of you traversed through the terrain of the gorge and pushed back towards the abandoned factory so you can insert the hexagonal shaped key in the hole and you can pursue on the mission to find the president’s daughter , ashley graham . the air began to go crisp as a subtle wind began to blow , your locks were being blown with the wind in the direction but only a small amount of them .

leon ‘s dirty blonde locks also blew within the wind as the two of you began trailing towards the abandoned factory after visiting the gorge to find the key for the gate . once the two of you made it back , the cloaked man with the purple lit torch was nearby and he looked at the two of you .

“ well , well . “ he spoke gruffly , “ welcome back , strangers ! got many good things on sale and it looks like you’ve finished a request , well done you two . “ he spoke enthusiastically even with his gruff and hoarse tone beneath the surface of his bandana wrapped around his nose and mouth . you looked at leon for a moment before stepping up to the merchant , with a good amount of peseta ‘s and things to sell to him from what you’ve found at the gorge and in return , both you and leon got a good amount of beautiful , shiny pink spinel that dazzled within the suns rays as you looked at it for a moment — her reflection casting in the gemstone ‘s pink exterior and a hint of sunlight shone on the pink spinel as she raised it up in the air to make sure that it was real .

luckily enough for you though , it was a real spinel . you and leon split the reward down by the two of you— since leon had gotten the most of the blue medallions, you gave him four while you kept the three pink spinels . while you were busy with the merchant and looking through his wares and items that he had , leon was distracted by looking at the gate but then he looked at the key then your hand . your soft and gentle touch meant everything to the man , unbeknownst to him . leon was a touch starved man ever since he went to raccoon city . he craved for others touch and he wouldn’t acknowledge it unless someone ‘s hand or arm accidentally would brush up against him then he’d consistently chase after that feeling again— longing for that same touch until he gets satisfied then he leaves .

but when it comes to you— you were mostly too into the mission because the president had asked you and leon personally to find and retrieve his daughter from one of the vacant islands on the coast of spain where a sinister cult by the name of los illuminados had kidnapped her and planned on using their “gift” to infect her and have control over the united states . leon was lost in thought and he couldn’t hear the sounds of your voice and the merchant ‘s calling out to him as it was all a blur , like he was tuning out everything to make him feel better . “ Leon ! “ you called out slightly louder as you stood in front of him and it seemed to click that you were calling out to him as he blinked and looked back at her . “ what “ he spoke gruffly, leon didn’t register that he was zoning out for a few moments but the merchant in front of the two of you quirked an eyebrow , “ are you alright , mate ? “ the merchant questioned and leon gave a quick nod. you remained silent and you stared at him for a moment but you ended dropping it .

throughout walking amongst the dirt grounds of the village and the abandoned factory, leon inserted the hexagonal shaped key and cranked it while the gates opened slowly— after he did just that , it was your turn and you pushed open the door and saw more factory rubble laying amongst in corners and some in the way but they weren’t too big and pillars that were broken at the top that had rusted pipes sticking out of it as the two of you progressed through , killing every villager you’ve managed to spot and within the distance— there stood two barrels that were poorly painted with the same yellow reflective paint, sitting juxtaposed in a corner and it was your turn to break them . lifting up the sole of her shoe — she smashed the both of them with one quick hit and fragments dropped down and scattered around where she busted the barrels and green herbs and peseta’s came out of it .

leon heard the sound of the barrels being busted and he turned to look at you , seeing that they were now broken and it made him wonder about you and him once you two get out of here safely with ashley graham and heading back to the united states . would you like to hang out afterwards ? would you like to probably hang out eventually more often than just one hang out ? maybe even a relationship? the questions remained unanswered and unasked for now because he didn’t know if you also thought of him like that . but boy , was he wrong .

you knew that when it came to missions, you were serious and determined because you didn’t want anything to bother you when your on dangerous missions such as this because of the sinister cult with its members currently hunting you and leon down at every chance they spot you , but outside of the missions and outside of headquarters if they decide to be nice to you and give you a few weeks off so you can prepare for the next mission— you were more sociable and showed more emotion unlike you when it came to being in missions . you and leon adamantly pressed forward in search of ashley graham but you were now told that she was residing within a church that you needed to find a key for because ganados had hid it across the lake .

After finding three gas cans filled with gas liquid for the motor boat that was near the wooden docks, you and leon made it back to the boat— it looked like a piece of shit but it’ll do for now . getting in the boat, you sat at the front of it and looked to your right to see a finite number of spears and it made you look out into the large body of water , you saw a small ripple underneath the brown murky water and that caught your eye but you couldn’t make it out on what it was but what caught you off guard was the sudden jumping of a motor and you rapidly turned around to see leon trying to jump start by pulling it out and watching it go back into the motor as he banged it slightly, doing the same motion again until it started to kick up into high gear with the gas running through its motors before using the motorboat and running out into the large body of water .

“ hmm .. how romantic of you to take me out on a boat ride , ‘eh leon ? “ she asked , a slight tease was laced within her voice and you leaned your elbows on your kneecaps and leon rolled his eyes but he gave a dry chuckle, “ very . “ he spoke with a one liner , you held your same smirk but it quickly dropped once you felt the water ripple underneath you with large waves coming through, almost getting into the motorboat and you turned around to see if there was anything in the water . what seemed like a few minutes , a large roar emitted from the water and out came a large sea monster and your eyes widened slightly but you looked at the spears and grabbed them , you turned to look at leon, “ i’ll hit and you steer! “ was all you said and once the monster popped out of the water, you threw a spear at it which subconsciously was attached to the boat without you or leon knowing until you saw a line being attached to one of it. all of a sudden, the motorboat jerked and it followed where the sea monster was going.

being almost thrown off the boat, you landed against leon’s chest, landing with a harsh grunt and a grit of your teeth as you looked up at leon who did the same thing that you did. steadying your posture and trying to make your way by returning to the front of the boat so you can but leon grabbed you and held you tight as the boat jerked to the side, following the sea monster was swimming rather rapidly. your back was pressed up against his chest and it only got worse as it followed the monster within the lake or .. the name that was on the wooden sign when you two passed it labeled lago from earlier . you managed to get your grip and you got away from leon ‘s chest and made your way to the front, making sure to stand completely still whenever the boat turned into a different direction when it was jerked to the side .

standing your ground and raising a spear, you waited til the monster would’ve been out of the water before you’d hit him entirely . after what had deemed to be like half an hour and being jerked to the side and almost hitting trees that happened to spawn immediately out of the water and protrude its dead tree branches out and with leon managing to steer the boat out of the way so you two wouldn’t get hit and the motor boat wouldn’t have broken apart , the monster managed to sink to the bottom with a plethora amount of sharp spears protruding from the confines of its skin that you aimed and shot at the monster— crimson red color then started to come out from the bottom of the lake . you thought it was over until you felt a strong taste of iron at the back of your throat, you scramble up to your feet and peer over at the side of the boat and cough up blood, spitting it up and coughing as blood mixed with saliva drips down to your chin and you look at the palm of your hand— seeing blood on the palm of your hand . you didn’t have any energy left but you guessed leon didn’t either because he did the same thing that you did and the both of you passed out on the boat , feeling nothing but subtle and gentle rocking of the water .

after what seemed like an hour— you stirred awake, regaining consciousness and remembering that you passed out on the boat, feeling a rush of a headache and feeling a small taste of iron from the blood you spit up, you groaned and sat up . feeling a body semi on top of you that only made you propped up on your elbows and you saw leon’s body that was laying haphazardly on top of you as he still remained unconscious . you look at his features for a moment and hear his soft and subtle breathing , taking in his features— she brushed a bit of his dirty blonde locks out of his eyes and she stared at him for a moment but when she saw him suddenly opening his eyes, she quickly pulled away her hand away from his dirty locks and looking out into the body of water . you narrowed your eyes and try to take a glimpse of your surroundings as leon mutters out a soft groan out in subtle pain because of the sudden sensation of coughing up blood and going unconscious because of the unknown , what exactly ? he doesn’t know why they coughed up blood but leon thought that it was from the jerking of the boat being pulled and how hard of sharp turns they did with the monster pulling the motorboat .

but you were thinking as to why you started acting like this— even though, you two were literally in the middle of the lake together. in a boat and you still needed to get back to the church so you can rescue the president ‘s daughter from the church and get this rescue mission done and over with so you can go back to your house / apartment and rest up til they decide to call you back for your next dangerous mission that’ll probably last days, weeks or even months— depending on how dangerous it is . leon rubbed his temples before getting up slightly and moving his hands unknowingly to the sides of your body with his free hand as to prop himself up before he went back to sitting down and steering the motor boat and try to find the key for the church gate—

“ uhhh.. leon? “

hearing your voice seemed to snap him out of his thoughts as he looked down at you, only to see that you were staring up at him but leon just stared right back at you as he eyed you up and down with his same furrowed eyebrow look— something was screaming at him to get off of you and apologize but.. there was another part of him that was telling him to have your gentle touch on his body again because he will never tell you but he was craving your touch again . leon just ignored your question and he just stared at you with his icy blue eyes, staring into your orbs as he made his eyes half lidded .

“ uhhh.. sorry for this suddenly.. there’s not really much space on the boat . “ he tried his best to play it off because he didn’t want to tell her the real reason as to why he’s on top of her .

you eyed him up and down while he was on top of you because you didn’t know if he was telling the truth or not but you tilted your head up and you instantly knew what was going on . there was differently more space but it was slightly limited because of the two wooden seats in the back and in the front but you averted your gaze back onto the dirty blonde haired man— you performed a smug expression written across her features . “ not enough space.. huh? “ she tilted his chin up to make him quit staring at her and avert his attention to how big the boat really was . leon subtly leaned into the touch of her fingers caressing his chin but he quickly snapped out of it as much as he could but he remained on top of you before looking around to see at how much room there was on the boat that was remaining still atop the body of water .

after removing her fingers from his chin, he flickered his blue orbs down to look at you for a quick moment before narrowing his eyes. “ do it again. “ he gruffly asked and you quirked an confused eyebrow but you realize what he meant and she brought her palm back up to his chin and gently caressed it , thumb brushing over his chin and she saw the slow close of his eyes , he leaned into her touch . if this man was a cat , he’d definitely be purring right now because of her soft and gentle touches that he was eating up so graciously and he eventually lowered himself down onto her body, getting in between your legs and stuffing his face into the crevice of her neck, smelling the subtle notes of your perfume and he wrapped his arms around your upper body . remaining stiff for a quick moment but she eventually wrapped her arms around his neck and back, drawing circles and other unknown shapes and words into the shirt of his back .

after realizing a few moments of a welcoming but subtly eerie silence have passed, you’ve come to realize that there was a small feeling of lips on the crook of your neck. you look at leon from the corners of your eyes and stare at him for a moment as he continues to pepper soft and gentle kisses to the flesh of your neck . since you two didn’t really have much of a label— it was just strictly colleagues who work for the same department . but in leon’s eyes, he saw you as someone who he thought he would possibly settle down with and maybe become even more than just “colleagues. “ but maybe as friends? no. way more than friends because you two were already familiar with each other , he knew your name and last name— where you mostly go to your favorite coffee shops because you would talk about them nonstop at how their coffee is .

peppering subtle kisses to the flesh of your neck, eventually leaning in closer to grab at your hand and cup his cheek while doing so , she stroked his cheek with her thumb and her breath became hitched as he began sucking on a sensitive spot on her neck but something within you clicked. you and leon were out in the middle of the lake . where ganados can see what your doing with binoculars . your cheeks began to flush and you look down at leon— trying to see if you can get him to stop .

“ leon— leon . you should stop because we’re in public.. and out in the middle of a lake where they would see us …“ you breathed out but he looked around from when he pulled away from the crevice of your neck as he looked down at you and he gave a dry but breathy chuckle that sounded like a soft tickle of the throat and he leaned down to your ear .

“ i guess we’re giving them a free show . “

was all he spoke before he returned to the safety of your neck, nuzzling in between your jawline and the crevice of your neck . he continued to leave subtle notes of hickeys and kisses on the skin of your neck, her breath starts to hitch with each soft hickey he created on your neck . you lifted your head up so he can gain more access to your neck , your cheeks had started to become flush because of the kisses and hickeys leon has started to create amongst your neck and placing them precariously in various different spots . remaining with the subtle hitching of your breath , you wrap your arms around him as to make an attempt to pull him closer into the crevice of your neck .

with your attempt, leon did the thing you were making an attempt to have him push further into the crevice of your neck as he kept your legs spread apart with him being in between them . after what seemed like a good few minutes, he pulled away from your neck and caught a glimpse of his work— your neck was covered in hickeys and kisses flushing from the underside of your jawline and down to your collarbone , some hickeys ranging in light shades of red while some of them ranged in a mauve color— heavily sucked . your cheeks remained flushed in color as you turned to look up at him as your eyes looked half lidded . leon gave a dry chuckle and he leaned back down but he stopped in place and kept his icy blue orbs on yours— like asking for consent because he didn’t want to continue unless you gave him consent .

you looked at him and nodded, giving him your consent but then you remembered that you two were still on a boat . within a lake . you shot your self up, almost hitting yourself heads against each other but he managed to pull away quickly before that would’ve happened out of quick instinct— leon quirked an eyebrow as he looked at you as to why you quickly sat up, you looked at him with a slight head tilt .

“ we can’t do it within the middle of the lake— can we at least go somewhere in private ? “ you ask, looking around for the nearest private place as leon followed your gaze to a nearby cave and he thought about it but sighed softly,

“ sure , let’s head over there . “ he spoke gruffly and sat near the engine of the boat .

within one of the wax filled caverns that had the detail as of melting wax and some altars were hidden in small dips within the cave — some villagers were watching over the giant altar itself with torches and pitchforks as to make a futile attempt to find the two agents that were sent to reclaim the president’s daughter before lord saddler infected her with las plagas and sent her back to infect the president and then infect the united states . within a small corner of the cave , subtle smacking noises were heard and noises of suckling were heard but with the sounds of cave noises and occasional noises outside of the cave from the lake and nature surrounding the area— it was blocked off thankfully .

you continued sucking leon ‘s dick and you remained on your knees , regardless of the rocky terrain of the cave but to your aide, there was a soft piece of rock from where you and leon stood that didn’t seem to be within the villager ‘s peripheral vision . as you continued to move your head up and down in a rotation position — leon emitted soft groans and breathy sighs as he watched you through half lidded eyes sucking him and very well , his lips occasionally parted to release soft groans that emitted from his throat as he placed his hands on the wax dripping covered wall , his fingerless gloved covered hands gripped on whatever he managed to grab so he didn’t have to grip on your locks and cause you discomfort and pain .

“ just like that .. your doing such a good job . “ he murmured softly with his gruff tone of voice and looked at you through half lidded eyes as he stared at you from above through his eyelashes . you responded well to praise and continued moving forward and backward before placing your hands on his black cargo pants covered thighs and gripping them slightly as you took him deeper into your throat . her locks were now sticking to her face from how humid the air was getting . your eyebrows knitted together as you proceeded and leon lets out a sharp breath before keeping his gaze on you while you take his dick in your mouth generously .

“ i’m almost there , just keep going a little bit longer . “ he muttered to you and one of his hands that were previously on the wall grasped at the back of your head gently, gripping some of your locks out of instinct because of how close he was getting to cumming down your throat .

feeling his gloved hand grip at your locks on the back of your head gently , you continued to move forward and backwards as your grip on his black cargo pants were starting to tighten . more audible noises of slurping and sucking were becoming evident within the space you two were sharing amongst each other and a thought was screaming at the back of your head, telling you two to be quiet because of potential villagers or ganados drawing in closer to you two so you didn’t want to get caught by them but the thrill of being caught was equally more exciting — even if it was by the plaga infected villagers .

“ i’m getting closer . “ he warned within his gruff voice and with him gripping onto your locks with the back of his hand slightly , he knew that he told himself to not push your head down because that’ll be rude to you but he couldn’t help himself , especially if you were sucking his dick like a champ . leon ‘s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned his head backwards , emitting more breathy moans and groans and making sure to keep the noise down because he didn’t want to catch the attention of wandering villagers nearby . his blonde locks strayed away from his face and tilted his head back , he bit down on his bottom lip before releasing it as he turned his head down to look at you and see how you were holding up while sucking his dick .

after what seemed about a few minutes of endless movements of moving your head forward and backwards along with sucking and slurping noises that were evident within the spot that you two were currently residing in . leon then lets out a sharp but shuttering breath as he brought the back of your head closer to the hilt of his dick and kept you still — feeling the warm feeling of his cum trickle down your throat , your hands grip tighter on his cargo pants . your eyes fluttered shut tightly and with him cumming down your throat made it hard to breathe but only slightly as you had to take heavy intakes of breathing through your nostrils . she eventually pulled off of his dick after slurping his cum down her throat and she swallowed what was left of it as leon began taking heavy breathing with his eyes shut closed but he opened them slightly to peer down at you through his eyelashes while his eyes remained half lidded .

with the deafening silence and the occasional sound of heavy breathing , leon brought you upwards so you can stand upright so you didn’t have the occasional feeling within your knees that you were about to give out because of the rough terrain of the rock , pebbles and cracks within the rocks and the occasional smooth feeling of the wax that was pressed up against your back . you looked at him and you felt him press up against you and he remained silent but you can tell what he was waiting for . all that it took was a simple nod and you brought your hands to your pants and already soaked panties , pooling them at the bottom of your ankles but leon was starting to get slightly impatient . he leaned his head down towards you as some of his dirty blonde locks dangled from the top of his head , the two of you were now touching foreheads and his eyes gazed upon your features but his eyes lingered a bit longer on your lips .

within the back of leon ‘s mind , something was screaming at him to kiss you but he was refraining unless you made the move first because he didn’t want to seem like the guy to be desperate for a kiss . you noticed his lingering gaze upon your lips . your soft and plush lips looked inviting to him but he remained still with his forehead touching against yours . his fingerless gloved hands were brought down to your hips and he used one of his hands and pushed your panties out of the way and he lined up his dick to your dripping pussy . you take a sharp breath as he just grinded up against your clit . he continued the teasing and the occasional grinding up against your clit , feeling the wetness emanating from your pussy .

with your breath hitching subtly , your cheeks began to flush more and you flutter your eyes closed , not explicitly saying it or admitting it but you were starting to get impatient with how much he’s been teasing you for what seemed like an antagonizing amount of time which felt like an eternity of endless faux thrusting to your pussy but leon ‘s cheeks began to flush slightly without turning into any color but he kept his head tilted down towards you, his forehead leaning against your own as his dirty blonde locks began to intertwine with yours and he eventually gave up on the teasing and he lined himself up and slowly inserted himself into your dripping pussy . with the slow but swift movement — with leon letting out a breathy groan as his eyes fluttered shut at the warm and comforting feeling of your pussy, you let out a shaky moan but that was quickly covered by leon ‘s fingerless gloved palm because he could’ve sworn he heard a noise and unfortunately for the two of you, he was right as he heard footsteps directly above . silently cursing at his but an idea popped into his head as he grabbed your hips while he was still inside of you and he turned to look at you .

“ jump . “ he asked you and you reopened your eyes to look at him through your half lidded eyes and obliged , jumping and he swiftly caught you as he wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed your back flush against the wax dripped hole that the two of you were in as he kept his hands holding up underneath your thighs and to provide additional strength , he saw a makeshift seat and he placed you down on the seat but just to be making sure that you didn’t slip off , he kept his hands wrapped underneath your thighs and he looked at you through his dirty blonde locks .

“ remember to be quiet , we don’t wanna get caught . “ he muttered before leaning his head into the crevice of your hickey covered neck and to your shoulder blade as to silence his groans and moans so none of the torch welding of pitchfork holding villagers would come in and try and kill them while they were like this . you let out a shaky breath but you kept your arms around leon and waited for him to move and get fully adjusted to his size since he was buried to the hilt inside of you . after feeling comfortable, you nodded while remaining your eyes closed but once leon saw your nod, he began to move forward and backwards in a rotating movement . leon silencing his soft and breathy groans to the crevice of your neck and you remained with your eyes but closed but you reopened them but only half way til they were half lidded and you kept one of your hands over your mouth to make sure as an added step into not getting caught by ganados .

with each movement he made inside of you, you released a shaky and breathy moan into the palm of your hand , making sure to keep your legs wrapped around his waist tightly but not too tight to the point it’ll cause him discomfort . leon kept moving in and out and making sure to hold you firmly in place and the soft subtle noises of skin slapping was evident within the hole you two were residing in for now . leon continued thrusting inside of you while his hot breath was emanating from his nostrils and gently caressing the skin of your neck . you shiver at the contact but you kept the palm of your hand around your mouth to keep your moans and whimpers at bay so the wandering villagers nearby .

leon ‘s breath started to become more hoarse and he started to make his thrusts more quicker , making sure to keep his fingerless gloved hands around your thighs and waist so you didn’t slip off of the makeshift wax seat you were currently sitting on to keep you dormant for now . his thrusts continued to get quicker as skin slapping against skin was starting to become slightly louder in between you two and the hole you two were currently in , his heavy balls smacking against your inner thighs from how quick his thrusts were becoming but what caught you two off guard was a sudden loud rumble of footsteps and voices— all shouting and chanting words and leon quickly halted his thrusts and wrapped a hand around your already covered mouth as his eyebrows furrowed, remaining silent while staring up at the ceiling of the hole you two were in as you two heard a plethora of footsteps stepping from above the both of you as you avert your gaze to the ceiling of the hole you two were in until an idea popped in your head and you held a mischievous expression across your features .

while you were about to act upon your idea, leon was more focused about not getting caught by the villagers even though he started it out in the middle of the lake . you pulled leon ‘s hand away from your mouth and you brought yourself away from him , his dick slowly leaving your pussy with a soft and wet pop! you were missing the feeling of being full but leon looked at you with a furrowed but raised eyebrow look as he watched her push him onto the wax makeshift seat, he lets out a soft grunt but his mouth was instinctively covered by yours as you crawled onto his lap, straddling his thighs with yours own as he brought his hands to your ass and he looked up at you with a his signature curious look that was mixed in with his all time knitted eyebrow look but his eyes remained half lidded . you lowered yourself down back into him, you let out a shaky breath and you let yourself get comfy as you slide your combat boots underneath his thighs . she gripped his shoulders to gain more stability as you began moving up and down . your breath was becoming shaky with each movement and your eyes closed as you continued bouncing on his dick, his hands still gripping your ass as to make sure you don’t accidentally fall off . the chanting whispering and the amount of footsteps were still above you two but you decided to be risky .

you continued to riding on his dick, you leaned your head into the crevice of his neck to silent your moans and whimpers . leon continued releasing huffed grunts and silent groans as you continued bouncing on his dick while ganados were up above . evident sounds of skin making soft sounds of smacking against skin were slowly starting to become noticeable in between the two of you as you kept fairly quiet as to make sure that ganados doesn’t hear you two from down below . you continue to let out soft but quiet moans as you continue riding him . you would eventually want to go more quicker than your pace now but leon already had beaten you to it .

leon , with keeping up with his thrusts, he continued to thrust upright and his fingerless gloved hands on your ass . you continue with riding him as you toss your head back with your hands still upon his shoulder blades, you continue releasing out some soft whimpers and low moans as you remain to stay quiet but leon on the other hand— he had other plans, his thrusts went more rougher and quicker and his breathing was starting to grow more intense and heavier . leon removed one of his hands and grabbed your locks tightly, pulling your hair back as his thrusts began to get more rougher and quicker and you accidentally let out a loud moan before covering your mouth instantly , eyes widening and leon ‘s hips stilled for a moment and his icy blue orbs turned to look up at you through his eyelashes but he held his signature half smile and he continued his thrusts— rough and more quicker than the last .

your hand was covered over your mouth to contain your moans and you lean your head forward to lay your forehead against the crevice of his neck as to better hide your moans there as you hear the footsteps up above you two still for a second before walking away as they search for the mysterious noise that was heard randomly out loud . with ganados out of the way , leon ‘s thrusts grew more sloppier and desperate as he began huffing and his grip on your ass and hair tightened .

“ i’m close . “ he warned with a gruff tone of voice and he tried to pull you off of his dick so he didn’t accidentally release inside of you but you kept firm on his lap, staring down at him and you held a soft mischievous but pleading look . “ you can release inside— i’m on the pill . “ she murmured out softly and in a hushed tone just in case if any wandering villagers happened to be nearby with their pitchforks and dynamite . leon closed his eyes for a moment and looked back up at you for a moment before returning his rough and rapid thrusts— them eventually growing sloppier as his breath began to hitch and he released your hair and snaked his forearms around your waist as to hold you tightly. he began thrusting upwards into you rather quickly and his heavy balls were smacking against your ass . you continue to let out loud moans into the palm of your hand , so you didn’t attract any villagers near where you two were located . her head was tossed back and your hands lay splayed across his tee shirt clad chest . with his thrusts getting more sloppier , more desperate and erratic . leon kept his forearms wrapped around your waist in a bear hug like fashion and he snapped his hips upwards into you and he lets out a loud groan while in return , you released a loud moan once his hips snapped up towards you and bringing you to the hilt of his dick, feeling something warm slowly oozing into your pussy as you leaned against leon ‘s shoulder and your lower body twitched and shook slightly as you two remained within the pose as you two tried to catch your breaths .

remaining your head leaning against his shoulder blade , her chest began rising up and down slowly as to regain some of the energy back that you two depleted together . leon ‘s chest was rising up and down against hers while to take a moment to catch a breather after the intimacy that happened between you and leon . he brought up a gloved hand to your chin and gently caressed it before tilting it to make you look at him as he leaned and pressed his lips against yours . her eyes widened slightly because she wasn’t expecting to be receiving a kiss from him but you ended up returning the kiss . her eyes fluttered closed as you brought your hands and cupped his cheeks and caressed his cheeks gently with your thumbs , leaning in to the kiss slightly before pulling away slowly and earning a soft smack , staring at him through half lidded eyes as he slowly chased after your lips and encased them with his own softly . obliging with his request , you leaned back into the kiss and did your same ministrations ; cupping his cheeks and caressing them in the palms of your hands and your thumbs .

after pulling away, there was a soft smack that was evident and the pair stared at each other for a few moments and she began smiling a dopey smile , they basked in the afterglow of sex that they’ve just now finished , “ never would’ve thought you’d see me like this , leon . ” she quipped slightly , her eyebrow quirked upright to make her expression more smug but leon gave his signature pissed off look but he closed his eyes within the process before giving a dry chuckle and a half lopsided smile as some of his dirty blonde bangs came across his forehead and you reached up and brushed them out of his eyes before he reopened his eyes . “ i didn’t hear you complain . ” it was his turn to quip and he leaned back in for another kiss before you denied him of that by pushing his face away gently and you gave a snicker , “ okay there lover boy , we got a mission to finish and the presidents daughter to rescue . ” you speak in a quipped matter of fact like tone .

leon emits a dry single chuckle before lifting her off of him and tucked his now soft dick back into the confines of his black boxers and cargo pants . you pull up your panties and cargo pants and clicked back your utility belt holding your handgun holster and knife sheath on the side of your hip and hearing the similar click of the utility belt around the hip , you turn your head to look at leon before reaching up and brushing his hair to make it more neater , doing the same to your hair , you brought yourself back into the mission mindset and exited the hole with leon , following in suite .

༺♡༻

hi guys ! cherry here <3

this is my first fanfic so if there’s something wrong

with it , don’t be shy and let me know ! <3

I’ve tried my best to see if i can capture re4r leon ‘s

personality and his mannerisms so if it seems

out of character for him then please let me know ! <3

𓆩⚝𓆪 TAGLIST 𓆩⚝𓆪

none yet <3

if you want to be apart of my taglist , lmk ! <3

you can let me know by pm’ing me !

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut #cherriewrites🍒

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thefoxtherapist · 6 months ago

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Hello! Is it alright if I request a Jiyan x male reader? Where male reader got hurt during a war but hide it so that it doesn't make anyone worry but Jiyan soon found out?

If your uncomfortable with this request you can just ignore it thank you for your time

Of course! I hope you like the request<3

Admittedly, I'm recovering from surgery so if there are some mistakes in this, I am so sorry lol- but I have to distract myself some way!

Injuries were common on the battlefield, yours were no different than anybody else’s. At least you had managed to escape with your life. You kept the wounds wrapped with bandages, tied tightly so they could be hidden underneath your uniform. And then you pushed on, as a good soldier does.

You didn’t want anybody to worry, especially not when you were so close, you felt close, at least. Maybe hiding your injuries wasn’t for the best, it certainly wasn’t ideal, especially not having to wrap your own wounds, disinfect them yourself. It was tedious, but you kept that reminder going.

Countless of your allies have lost their lives for your home, this was your honour.

And it’d gone well! None of your fellow soldiers noticed, not even the medics you made a point to avoid. You took any alone time you could get to mend your wounds, and then you were back at it. Even you were impressed with your sneakiness. Or at least you were impressed by it.

Clawed gloves gripped the tree you were resting under, your shirt pulled up made it near impossible to hide the bloodied bandages from the General. “General Jiyan-” You cleared your throat, lowering your shirt to cover the half done bandages anyway. But the damage had been done.

He pushed himself off of the tree and came to stand in front of you, the tip of his weapon digging into the dirt beside you. “You need to return to the city for treatment.” Typical Jiyan, even dating him, he kept his priorities straight. He was a soldier first and foremost.

But so were you.

You stood up, hand holding your abdomen as you looked up at him. “I can still fight, Jiyan. I belong here, on the battlefield.” He furrowed his brows at you, leaving his weapon in the dirt to cross his arms over his chest.

“One mistake could cost you your life and the life of your comrades.”

“I’m not reckless. I know what I’m doing.”

Jiyan dropped his arms, quickly reaching forward to press against your wound. You grimaced in pain, blood soaking through the fabric of your shirt. Jiyan pulled his hand back, his face visibly disappointed by your choices. You couldn’t help but look away from him.

“You’re going back to the city.”

“Jiyan!”

He snapped back at you, your name falling from his lips in a rushed tone. He almost never yelled at you outside of barking orders to the squad. You hesitated, pressing your hand against the bleeding injury once more to try and stop the blood.

“I don’t want to see my boyfriend die because he doesn’t know when to stop.”

Jiyan’s tone grew quieter, more sombre. The General sighed, pressing his palm to his forehead as he looked away from you. “I worry about you.” He looked at you from the side, a small frown on his face.

“Jiyan..”

You stepped towards him and he dropped his arm to his side, pivoting his torso towards you. You carefully opened your arms, wrapping them around him. Jiyan tensed but then relaxed, wrapping his arms around you after a moment to return your affection.

“And I worry about you.. That’s why I have to stay.” You spoke quietly, holding him tightly against your chest. He brought his hands up to your back, gloved fingers curling into your shirt and holding you tightly.

“Fine, but you’re to stay at the outpost. Promise me, that.”

You exhaled, but nodded, at least you could stay by your lover. “Fine, I promise.” You agreed quickly.

Jiyan nodded in return, nuzzling his face against you.

“Let me see those wounds.. At least let me patch you up.”

“Heh, sure thing, Doctor Jiyan.”

#wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #jiyan wuwa #m!reader #༻Tenebris #༻Stygian

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awkward-tension-art · 6 months ago

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Bacta and Bandages Chp.4 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 3. Chapter 5.

Rookies and Broken Hands

CW: Fives and Echo, slow-burn, Anakin trying to be supportive, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

After Cherenity, you’ve adapted well. Your first mission was a relatively easy success. From there, you had more confidence and mental preparation. You didn’t even freeze when you were exposed to combat on the next mission.

Truthfully, you might not have frozen up anyway. The hospitals on the lower levels of Coruscant weren’t strangers to criminal violence and attacks.

And, to be blunt, the droids weren’t as cruel as some of the criminal empires back home.

Right now, everyone was on The Resolute, winding down from another successful battle. The planet of Jorin was officially Republic territory, thanks to the efforts of General Skywalker, Commander Tano and General Kenobi.

You weren’t out and about mingling. Instead, you were in the medical bay, patching up your third trooper with cracked knuckles, broken fingers and fractured hands.

The cause of such wounds? Punching droids.

For some reason, every time a clone had a chance, they would swing a fist at the metal body in front of them. Of course punching metal with no hand armor was, to be frank, damaging to bone. But these soldiers wouldn’t even feel the pain until adrenaline wore off.

The first time one of these guys punched a droid, you assumed it was just a moment of pure will to survive.

The second time was a coincidence. Something you could write off as just a minor occurrence.

The third time? You asked Kix if they were specifically trained to punch the damn things in front of them.

The straw that overloaded the ship was when you witnessed Commander Cody literally throw his rifle and tackle one of the droids that got too close to where you were treating the injured. When he stood back up, General Kenobi just handed him his gun as if this was a regular occurance.

After that, you weren’t sure who was more fucking insane. The 501st or the 212th.

You sent the last trooper on his way and opened the door to the hallway. However, as soon as the metal doors split, you came face-to-face with an unknown trooper. He had his hair styled in the standard military fashion, however he sported a goatee. There was a tattoo on his temple, but you couldn’t make out what it was from where you stood.

“Oh!” You were, admittedly, somewhat startled, “Hi, I’m sorry, do you need something?”

“Well, yes I do.” The trooper had a flirtatious tone to his voice, “I wanted to come meet the 501st doctor. And let me just say, you and I could-”

A second trooper had dashed forward from down the hall and slapped his hand right over the lips of the first, “Fives! I can’t leave you alone for more than 3 minutes! Do you ever stop with your flirting!?” He was exasperated, clearly, “I’m so sorry for him. He’s a moron.”

The first trooper, Fives, pulled the hand off his face. He kept his smirk, “What Echo is trying to say is-”

Echo, you gathered, cut off his friend, “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry we’ve bothered you, Doctor.”

Echo and Fives….oh! The new recruits from the Rishi outpost!

You gave the two of them a kind smile, “You’re no bother at all, you can come to me for anything you need.”

Fives made a show of putting his hand over his heart, “Doc, I’m feeling lovesick-”

“It was nice to meet you, doctor. I’m going to take this di’kut and throw him out of an airlock.” Echo returned your smile, but you could tell it was tense and annoyed. The trooper began to drag his friend away, all the while Fives gave half-hearted struggles.

You finally saw the full symbol on his temple. It was a ‘5’ in Aurebesh. A very ‘on the nose’ tattoo to distinguish him from his brothers.

Something told you that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of them…

After the two soldiers had scrambled away, you walked through the venator ship to find Rex.

Your first guess, the hangar, was correct. He had a datapad and was overseeing the loading and unloading of weapons, supplies and other crates that were received from Jorin. You paused, the captain was busy and you didn’t want to bother him…

He spotted you first and gave a small smile. The blonde clone handed the datapad to one of the troopers at his side and walked over, “Is something wrong Doctor?”

You sighed, “It’s about the men. Can you please tell them to stop punching droids?”

Rex blinked in surprise, “What? Why? Sorry doctor, but the men are trained to take down clankers in whatever way possible.”

“They keep breaking their hands, especially their fingers.”

There was silence from the Captain. After a moment he responded, “I…see. No one had ever said anything. Are you sure it's them punching droids-”

“Captain, please use your fist to punch the wall with all your strength and take note of the results.” You deadpanned, brow raised. There was a grin on your lips, clearly indicating your sarcasm.

He snorted, “Alright alright, point made.” the clone in front of you put a hand on his hip, “I’ll…think of something. I’m sure armor would help…”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, “It’s easier to create armor for hands rather than tell the men to stop suckerpunching droids.” Your smile hadn’t left your face when you responded, “You know what? I think more armor is a wonderful idea. In the meantime, can you tell them that when they throw a punch to leave the thumb outside the fist?”

You didn’t know that Rex felt a small twinge in his heart at your laughter. It was a burst of joy that he made you happy. Something he hadn’t felt before.

“Yea. Yes!” He caught himself getting lax in his attitude, “I’ll tell them. Thank you for your concern over the men.”

“Of course, it’s my job.” You nodded, feeling somewhat relaxed now, “I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll see you around, alright?”

“Yes, of course, doctor.” Rex watched you leave the hangar. Unconsciously, he sighed before turning back to the working soldiers. He, however, was face-to-face with Anakin.

The Jedi had been replacing a part in one of his fighters when you had arrived at the hangar. When he saw his captain and doctor both talking…

Well, a good general would help his men in all their endeavors.

“So, Captain.” General Skywalker couldn’t stop the smirk, “You and our wonderful Doctor are rather friendly.”

Rex’s eyes widened, “I…don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“Come on, Rex. It’s just you and me here,” He put a hand on the clones back, “Man to man? You can tell me.”

“Sir…”

Anakin didn’t give up, “It's natural to have feelings, Rex. Heck, I encourage it!”

“Feelings? Oh! No, General! I-I can’t…” The clone captain stuttered, tripping over his words. The two of them were standing off to the side, making sure no one could hear them.

The Jedi laughed, “What? Yes you can! Come on, it's alright.” However, looking at his friend's serious stare, Anakin’s face fell, “Rex?”

The clone captain sighed, “Sir, clones are taught early on that romantic feelings are forbidden. We’re soldiers, we’re not supposed to have partners or spouses. We’d be going against regulations if we pursued personal relationships.”

Something shifted in the General, as if he had been slapped. He stepped back, eyes holding sadness and understanding, “I’m sorry…That's…” He looked down with a sigh, “That's not fair…” After a second he furrowed his brow and looked up at his captain, “I’m not going to stop anyone from having a relationship if they want. No one should be forced to…box up their feelings.”

Rex felt a flash of confusion and even worry. Anakin sounded as if he fully understood.

Jedi aren’t allowed attachment…

Did General Skywalker really understand?

After a beat, the Captain nodded, “Thank you, sir…I’m certain some of the men will feel better knowing they have that freedom.”

The Jedi frowned. Rex was a man with high walls, even to his General, “I am serious, though. If you…need help with figuring things out…well, I’m your guy.”

“Thank you…General?” The clone captain watched, entirely confused when Anakin walked away to return to his fighter.

What a strange conversation…

Rex couldn’t have feelings for you. He wasn’t programmed to have them.

That feeling in his heart was something different entirely.

Right?

#reader insert #tcw x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex #bacta and bandages #star wars the clone wars #star wars tcw #star wars x reader #clone wars 501st #anakin skywalker #anakin is trying his best

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queeneamidala · 4 months ago

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𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚎…

{𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘}

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎!

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Even with winter creeping in, you make Joel feel warm.

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Jackson!Joel x Fem!Reader. Slow burn, (but hopefully worth it!). Fluff. Some angst (talks of reader’s backstory). Lots of intimate conversation. Protective!Joel. Soft!Joel (cause of COURSE). More coffee consumption. (Age gap or no age gap- you decide). Reader has no description of any kind besides she/her pronouns, it’s all you bby <3

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: >5k

𝚊/𝚗: Hereeeeeee’s part 2!!! I cannot stress the thanks I give to those who read part 1, and waiting so patiently for part 2! This is really a monstrosity, if I’m being completely honest… the word count got a little crazy. But I hope you enjoy it all!! This is so fun to write, and I’d love to hear and see your thoughts/comments/likes/reblogs!! Also… maybe a part 3 is in order? Stay tuned ;) <3

~*~*~

Joel trudged to the outer part of town, gun slung over his shoulder. He promised he would meet you at the edge, where they traded out patrols. He had been busy with other things that day, and felt horrible that he couldn’t walk with you. But, he knew that a few hours alone with you would make up for that.

At least, that’s what he hoped.

He came up and saw Tommy standing with a few others, talking indistinctly. When Joel approached, Tommy and the others turned. As they did, the group opened up and he could see you standing on the far side. Your face quite literally beamed up when you saw him.

“Ready for another shift?” Tommy chuckled as Joel came up closer. “You’ll have to show the new girl all the ropes.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile was still evident on your face. Joel nodded, and he couldn’t help it as his lips quirked up on the ends when he met your eyes. This wasn’t lost on you, or Tommy for that matter. No one had seen Joel so much as literally turn his frown upside down, not even in the slightest. So, this was an interesting event for all involved.

“Well, no time like the present.” Joel said, and nodded forward. You bid goodbye to the others and walked with Joel across the town lines into the woods. He could sense your unease, and he glanced down to see a pistol on your hip.

“You know how to use that?” He questioned. You looked over at Joel and followed his gaze to the gun at your side, and then looked forward quickly.

“Unfortunately, yes.” You said. Joel frowned, but said nothing.

As you two reached the outpost where you’d be staying, Joel let you climb up the ladder first. He followed shortly after, his head swiveling around for any signs of life that weren’t supposed to be there. When he was safely inside, he closed the makeshift door and sat down next to you.

It was cold inside. Almost bitterly so. Joel was fine, having his heavy jacket and several layers. He had done this before, so he came prepared, especially in the colder months.

You, on the other hand, were miserable. Not expecting it to be this cold, you were wholly unprepared for the coldness that seeped into the wooden outpost about 12 feet off the ground. You sat on the chair and crossed your legs to conserve warmth, shoving your hands between your thighs to keep them from freezing.

Yeah, this was gonna be a long shift.

Joel, ever vigilant, noticed that you were shifting uneasily. But, his thoughts ran elsewhere besides the cold. Were you afraid of him? Was this awkward? Did he make a mistake taking over Jim’s shift with you? Was this overstepping some invisible boundary?

But then, you spoke,

“Can’t believe it’s this fucking cold.”

Your voice trembled a bit, and he watched you closely. His eyes softened a bit, and he took in your form. Yeah, you weren’t nearly as bulked up with layers as him. He set his gun down on the floor, leaning it against the window sill. You looked over at him, and it dawned on you very quickly about what he was about to do.

“Joel, don’t-“

“Can’t have you freezin’ on me, sweetheart. Won’t do much good if you’re an icicle.” He said, and shed his large jacket. Before he knew what he was doing, he stood and draped it over your shoulders. You sat still as he did so, and the warmth flooded you almost immediately. He sat back down, and your face was flushed with red. You cleared your throat, looking down at your hands.

“Thanks.” You said quietly. Joel nodded, like it was something he’d done a million times. He shifted his gaze back to the landscape that sprawled out in front of you.

You sat in a comfortable silence, and you eventually threaded your arms through Joel’s jacket. It smelled of cedar and musk, and you had always wondered what he smelled like. It felt as though he were enveloping you in a warm hug. You wondered if he ever did that sort of thing.

“When did you come here?” Joel questioned after a few minutes. You were surprised at his initiation of the conversation, but certainly not mad about it.

“About 8 months ago. Came from a QZ in Alabama after it fell apart.” You replied. Joel looked over at you, and you continued to look out of the outpost.

“Escaped with a group of good people. We tried to find someplace else, someplace safe. It was one of the hardest things I had to do. Lead them to safety, after my husband died.” You explained, and Joel’s chest twisted. He had never noticed a ring on your finger, but he could see a faded outline of where one used to be.

“But, keeping everyone together was hard. Death followed us everywhere- Clickers, disease and bad food, water. The world seemed to pick us off one by one.” Joel shifted his gaze to outside. He could tell you hadn’t spoken about this often, and he could sense a tremor in your voice.

“Eventually it was just me, wandering the woods. I felt hopeless, without purpose. I began to go kind of… well, insane. I don’t know how long I was out there til Tommy found me. Took me straight to the infirmary where they had to basically take care of me until I was able to be on my own two feet.” You said, and looked down, your hands clasped tightly together so much your knuckles turned white. Joel was stoic, unmoving, but his presence felt comforting. You didn’t know why you felt so comfortable with him, so you didn’t stop from going on.

“I’ve done some… terrible things, I’ve- seen so much… death. Coming here, it was a saving grace. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself much longer had they not found me.” You said. Joel’s heart dropped at this revelation, his eyes were soft with empathy. He knew all about hopelessness, about wanting to give up. About not having anything or anyone to live for. Had Ellie not come into his life, he would have taken the easy route out. He just hated that you felt like you had to do the same. You didn’t deserve to feel like that, not with how caring and kind you were. Not with how you literally made people’s days light up at the sound of your laugh or the look of your smile.

It just wasn’t fair, this world you both lived in.

“I feel like I try to do good things to make up for all the bad I’ve done.” You added, though your voice was so small and quiet. Joel knew that feeling all too well.

“I’m sorry.” Joel could only say, and you looked at him to already see his eyes on you. You smile, but this one was sad, weak. You shrugged, and sighed deeply,

“It’s life, isn’t it? It’s never easy. But, the small things make it better. Good people, especially.” Joel noticed how your smile deepened a bit, and he could see that glint in your eyes. He nodded, and couldn’t imagine you would rope him into the “good people” category. But, he also saw your face, and how you looked at him, that maybe you did.

And it made him feel… nice.

“Yeah, the good ones. Few and far between. But, they exist.” He said, his eyes looking between your own.

“I think there’s good people here.” You said, nodding forward. “You’re good people.”

And Joel, without knowing it, smiled. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t teeth-showing, but it was a smile. One that betrayed him immensely, but he couldn’t stop it now. Even though he disagreed, he couldn’t voice it. Not to you. He couldn’t go against anything you said, it would feel like a personal crime.

“So are you. I hope you know that.” He said, and reached out to take your icy hand within his own. You looked at him, studying his face as you gripped his hand back.

And to Joel, the world just got a little bit brighter.

~*~*~

“Where are you going?” Joel said as he sat on the couch in the living room, feet propped up on the coffee table. Ellie stalked past him to the door, and looked over her shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Out.” She said, and stormed through the door. Joel sighed. Teenagers.

He sat, listening to the crackly turntable in the corner. It played an old jazz record he borrowed from the library. Not his true cup of tea, but it was better than nothing. He needed to trade some other old ones in for new ones, but he had listened to the whole library by now.

He felt at ease for once. He played the time spent with you on patrol over and over. After your conversation, you spoke of happier, better things. Old baseball legends, old music, basically a throwback of pop culture before the world went to shit. You told him a funny story about your job that actually drew a true chuckle from him. He just felt… better around you. Your easy going demeanor and openness was enough to make him want to share with you. Share smiles, laughter, time together.

And god, he loved all three when it came to you.

The record clicked to signal its ending, and he stood up, walking over to turn it over. Just as he put the needle down, there was a knock at the door.

He walked to the door and opened it, seeing you standing there before him, looking chilled to the bone. He gestured for you to come inside quickly, and you shuffled in, huffing into your hands.

“What the hell ya doin’ out there in the cold for?” He said sternly, more concerned than upset, eyebrows furrowing. You shrugged, crossing your arms.

“Wanted to see you.” You said, and his jaw clamped shut.

Well. Okay.

He stood, like an idiot, in silence for a moment, before nodding minutely.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll make coffee.” He said, and hurried to the kitchen. Even though it was nearly 7 in the evening, he needed time to process what you said, and that you were here to see him.

You felt more warmth in Joel’s house than your own, and shed your boots and jacket, hung up the latter and walked to the couch. Sitting down, you tucked your feet under you to make them warm again. You looked around, trying to find the source of the music that was playing. You saw the record player in the corner, and smiled fondly. Of course Joel was a music guy, it just made sense.

He walked back to the living room with two cups of steaming coffee, and walked to the couch. He sat down on the far side, giving you space, but leaned over to hand you the mug.

“Got somethin’ on your mind?” He questioned as he took a sip. You took a hefty gulp and felt the warmth move down your throat and into your stomach. You were beginning to feel again, from your head to your toes. You felt less like an ice cube and more like a human, now.

“Just… wanted to see how you were doing. Been busy these last couple of days, I feel like I’ve neglected my friends.” She said with a light laugh. Joel’s eyebrows shot straight up, and he smiled small. Joel didn’t have friends. He had family. But, he would make an exception for you.

Maybe one day, you’d be family, too.

He liked the idea of that.

“Ellie tells me you’ve been working like crazy, too. People are starting to like you. You better watch out, cause the ladies already fawn over you as is.” You laughed, and Joel regarded you with an unconvinced expression. He didn’t think anyone noticed him, let alone “fawn” over him. He just did his work, day in and day out. He was unaware of the “extra attention” he was drawing from the female crowd.

He didn’t see them, because he only saw you.

“Never noticed them. Didn’t think anybody noticed me.” He said simply, taking a sip of coffee. You shook your head, and smiled into your coffee.

“I noticed you. Always have.” You said, and Joel’s eyes shifted to you as you sat across from him on the couch. He found himself getting closer and closer to you. Not physically, but emotionally. The comfort level was at a steady pace. He wanted to be sitting closer to you, to feel your body heat and drink in your comforting presence.

“Well, it’s hard not to notice you, darlin’.” He said. You blushed, and hid your face in your mug as you took a sip.

Joel was a man of few words. He was never good at them, never entirely graceful or eloquent. But now, he wished he was. He wanted to tell you how he felt, how much he cared, how much he really liked you.

But, he just didn’t know how.

And he hated himself for that.

“What are you listening to?” You teased after a few minutes of silence, a saxophone filling the air. Joel wracked his brain to figure out who the artist was.

“Louis Armstrong, I think. Jazz is the last genre I haven’t listened to at the library.” He said. You raised her eyebrows, then knitting together. And then, you laughed.

“Never would have pegged you for a jazzy guy.” You said, and began to laugh. “Country, maybe. But- but smooth jazz? God.” You covered your face to keep the laughing tears from escaping you as your body shook with giggles.

Normally, Joel would frown upon someone laughing at him. But, it was you. He was making you happy, making you laugh-

Now that. That was true music.

“Yeah, well,” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Yes, yes you are, Joel Miller.” You said, lowering your hand and looking over at him. He looked down at his mug, his pinky finger tapping against the edge lightly.

He wanted to find a reason for you to say his name again. And maybe again. He just wanted to hear you speak about anything under the sun, that would be enough for him.

“Tell you what, Joel,” you said, and shifted on the couch to face him, leaning your elbow along the back of the couch. He shifted as well, turning his body a little towards yours. “You tell me a story, and I’ll tell you a story.”

“A story?”

“Yeah, fictional or true. I don’t care- I just…” you said, and silence followed. Joel waited patiently for you to finish. His heart was hammering in his chest, but on the outside he was calm and collected.

You shrugged, and looked at him with a light smile. You didn’t have to say it. Joel knew. You knew. You just liked each other’s company, you liked the sound of each other’s voices. And it was becoming more and more apparent to the both of you.

“Alright.” Joel agreed, and your soft smile turned into a grin. He took a sip of coffee, and thought for a moment.

“I got one for ya. Not real, but a good story. Ever heard of the movie Smokey and the Bandit?”

“No.” You laughed.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna tell ya all about it.”

~*~*~

The minutes turned to hours that night. You left sometime around midnight. And then you were back two days later, and the conversation struck up again. It turned into you two alternating between each other’s houses. Patrols got more frequent for you, and Joel was insistent that he go with you, not anyone else.

Joel continued helping around the town, fixing broken things but keeping to himself when he wasn’t with you, Ellie, or Tommy. Ellie was making friends, and would visit them often, leaving him alone most evenings.

But there was you, there to fill his time and capture his attention.

You were sitting in your living room one evening, the fire crackling in the fireplace to offer more warmth. You sat next to Joel, closer than ever before, your coffees already consumed and empty mugs sitting on the coffee table.

Joel’s arm was slung across the back of the sofa instinctively, and you enjoyed the close proximity. Your knee brushed his every so often, leaving you both wanting more. But, things like this take time, and Joel was a gentleman. He wouldn’t press anything, too afraid to mess up whatever relationship was forming between you.

“Jim Harris approached me the other day.” You said, and Joel’s hand clenched at his side. Ever since he took over patrols with you, it seemed Jim was trying to find ways to confront you, but not Joel. Joel wondered why, as he was the one to change things up when it came to patrols. He guessed Jim thought you were an easier target.

“He wanted to talk. I was in the middle of running food to Mrs. March’s house, she’s got a sick kid. I waved him off, but it still felt… weird.” You said and sighed, rubbing your forehead in thought.

“Other people have been acting weird lately, too. They ask about you a lot.” You added, and Joel looked towards the fireplace. While no one outwardly approached him, he could sense some of the womenfolk asking him to come around more often. Simple, almost dumb fixes. Some of them looked like self sabotage, and he was beginning to get his suspicions. He may be old, and sometimes oblivious, but it was getting more apparent that he was being eyed by several of the single (and sometimes even married) women in town.

Joel had seen the occasional man talk to you. They often leaned in to you as they did, or leaned against a wall or building post, trying to come off as cool or suave. You always smiled and talked cordially, not wanting to make any enemies. Some of them made you laugh, and that definitely didn’t make Joel feel a little jealous.

“Do I need to give a good talkin’ to to anyone?” Joel questioned, and you laughed, shaking your head.

“I think that would make things worse than better. But, I appreciate it all the same.” You said, your hand patting his knee. He glanced down, and your hand lingered for just a second longer than he anticipated, before you drew it away and back into your lap.

“You know I’d do anything for ya. I’m not above roughing up somebody, so long as they leave you alone after.” He said, looking down to his lap, and you smiled lightly. You looked at him, and your faces were close. Closer than they had ever been before. Joel could feel the softness of your breath against his skin, and he felt his heart thrumming in his chest.

He could feel the tension in the air, and could feel your gaze on him. He wondered what you were thinking, and raised his eyes to meet yours.

You had never seen brown eyes so dark, so beautiful, so…

The door was then wrestled open, and Ellie walked inside. She made a face at seeing you and Joel so close, but closed the door behind her. You wanted to move, but you felt Joel’s hand touch your shoulder lightly, subtly inviting you to stay.

“Tommy’s asking around for you.” Ellie said, kicking off her shoes and it made Joel flinch. He sighed, and his arm swung from your shoulders. He stood up, his knees cracking slightly, and silently cursed his older age for catching up with him.

“What’d I tell you about the shoes?” Joel said firmly to Ellie, who rolled her eyes and picked them up, setting them by the door and made an ‘okay?’ gesture. Joel looked over at you, who stood up and grabbed the coffee mugs.

“Duty calls.” You said, and smiled lightly as you carried the mugs to the kitchen. Joel sighed, and walked to the front door, pulling on his jacket and boots. You came out quickly after, and Ellie plopped down on the couch where you two had been sitting, picking up her book from the far side table. You looked as you passed, and tilted your head to the side.

“City of Ember? What’s that?” You questioned, and Ellie sat up, her eyes lighting up, and she grinned.

“One of the coolest books ever. It’s about a civilization underground, and…” she began rambling about it, and opened the book to show you the chapter she was on. You smiled, and looked at Joel.

“I’ll catch up with you later.” You said, and Joel couldn’t help but soften at the event unfolding before him. You walked over to the couch and sat next to Ellie, and she eagerly told you about the book. Joel held the doorknob, and just watched for a moment.

It was at times like these that he felt like the future was a little bit brighter for him.

~*~*~

“You’re going soft, old man.” Tommy joked at the bar one night. The snow had come and blanketed the town with white, and there was talk of Christmas celebrations. The town was much more merry than Joel had ever seen it. Or maybe, Joel was just feeling… well, maybe he was feeling a little bit of everything. Everything seemed brighter and warmer, even despite the cold weather.

Joel said nothing to Tommy’s remark. He kept quiet, his eyes always finding their way back to the doors of the bar. He was waiting, hoping, wanting.

And when you walked in, he felt his chest loosen for the first time that day. Tommy followed Joel’s gaze, and then back to his brother.

Suddenly, all the talk around town made sense. Tommy had his questions, but he knew his brother wouldn’t give them willingly. Joel never confided in anyone. Except, it seemed, you.

The talk of the town was that you guys were screwing. Only because you two were alone quite a lot. And at night, for that matter. People talk, it’s a small town, and people get jealous. Rumors swirl, and things are said. Joel had been picking up the pieces, but tried to be the bigger person. It wasn’t anybody’s business as to what you two were behind closed doors.

But, instead of making your way to the bar where Joel sat, a form stepped in your way.

“Jim.” You greeted, and could smell the alcohol on his breath, as he was that close to you.

“Been trying to catch you at a good time.” Jim said, and you feigned a disgusted look. You, like much of the other women in town, did not like Jim.

“Well, now’s still not-“

“Come on, just give me a second. If you can make time for that ancient asshole over there, then you can make time for me.” He said with a cocky air to him, and you tried to step around him, but he stepped with you.

Joel’s fist tightened at his side, and he pushed his beer to the side, beginning to rise. He felt a protective air come over him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching. Tommy clapped a hand on Joel’s arm,

“He’s just drunk, Joel. She can handle hers-“ but Joel ripped his arm away and began to weave his way through the patrons to where you and Jim stood, and Tommy shook his head.

“Christ.” Tommy muttered, and dragged a hand down his face. He knew better than to sway Joel after he set his mind on something.

And he certainly couldn’t stop him when it came to protecting you.

“… he can share. I’d like to have a round with you, show you how a real man can treat you-“ Jim said, but Joel rounded on him quickly.

“What did you say?” Joel hissed, staring daggers into Jim’s back. Jim swiveled to face Joel, and Joel could see him sway a bit. Drunk or not, he had no right to speak to you that way.

“Fuck off, Miller. You can have her back when I’m through-“

At that, Joel had enough. He swung wide, his fist collided with Jim’s face with a sickening crunch. The crowd reacted with scattered gasps and flinches. Jim was down with one blow, and fell to the floor, his nose beginning to bleed.

“Jesus Christ, Miller! You…” He cried, and held his nose with a shaky hand. Joel bent down, and grabbed him by the collar.

“You keep your mouth shut around her, you understand? Or I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to your fuckin’ dog.” He said, and raised his hand to give him another blow but a hand grabbed his arm. He was about to jerk away, thinking it was Tommy, but-

“Joel. Stop.”

Your commanding voice hung in the air, and Joel froze. He let go of Jim after a few tense seconds, and Jim fell back onto the floor. Standing straight, your hand eased up on his arm and he felt his breathing begin to even out. You still held onto him, and pulled at his sleeve to get him to walk away. He followed dutifully, and exited the bar with you while others watched apprehensively.

“Why did you do that?”

“I-“

“Joel. That’s not-“

“He was just so, so disgusting, and I couldn’t-“

You and Joel stood outside of the bar, the conversation tense following the events from inside. Joel’s hand continued to shake at his side, both from adrenaline and a dull throbbing pain, his ears still slightly ringing.

“He said… awful things. I couldn’t let him get away with that.” Joel said, and your eyes softened. You picked up his hand that he had knocked Jim with, and you could already see the redness forming there. Joel sucked in a breath quickly, and your eyes met his for a moment, thinking he was in pain. But, he was feeling something far from pain. Far, far from it.

“People have been talking.” You said, and Joel frowned.

“They’ve been saying, er… that we have a rather intimate relationship.” You explained, and Joel gulped. While he would want that more than anything, laying accusations of that nature about you was enough to infuriate him. You held his hand within your own, and shook your head.

“But, It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what they say. I say, screw it, let them think what they want.” You said flippantly, waving a hand to the side. “It’s not their business, anyway-“

You shook your head vehemently. You were upset that people would talk about Joel like that, after all he’s done for them. You knew it was all out of jealousy, and that it was all talk. It still stung, though.

Joel looked so serious, and normally you would have laughed and pointed it out. But you were so upset that you just couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Besides, they… Their talk is warranted. I see how it looks, but it has nothing to do with them. Only us. Just us.” You said. Joel then took your hand in his with a much more firm grip, even if his knuckles were sore. You watched him for what felt like minutes. Well, there was no going back now.

“I just… I care about you, Joel. A lot. More than- more than I can say. I like hanging out with you, I like seeing you smile, I like hearing your, rather rare, laugh. I want to hear what you have to say, I want to sit with you in silence and drink copious amounts of coffee. I-“ you rambled, and finally shut yourself up for a moment, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes.

“I just, I want more. I want to be with you. Okay?” You said, forcing the words out, and you looked up at him. He was watching you with those intense brown eyes in silence. You thought he was going to reject it, passing it by, as his grip loosened on your hand. But, his grip became soft, and he lifted your hand to his lips. He kissed your knuckles softly, and his honeyed brown eyes watched you with… adoration.

“Darlin’, you have no idea how much you mean to me.” He said, his lips against your skin. He looked down at you, his eyes soft and sweet like a warm glass of whiskey. He raised a hand to bring his thumb against your cheek.

“I can’t give… I can’t give you much. I ain’t too good at grand, romantic gestures. I just have myself, it’s all I have to offer. You’re too good for me, and you deserve someone who can give you everything you could ask for, give you the world-“

“Joel,” You said, your eyes looking between his own. You your head,

“I don’t want the world. I want you.”

You leaned into his touch, and he let go of your hand to put a hand on your waist and closed the distance between you.

And he kissed you. He kissed you the way he’s always wanted to- gently, cautiously, but full of hope and heart.

You closed your eyes immediately on impact, and returned the kiss with a gentle push. You raised your hand to press against his bearded cheek, his hair tickling your fingertips. He smelled of wood and leather, and a strong smell that you knew was just Joel. He was everything you wanted, and more.

You weren’t sure who pulled away first, but you both needed air. Joel leaned his forehead against yours, and his thumb still gently caressed your cheek. You were too good for him, and he knew that. He didn’t deserve anyone by the likes of you.

And yet, here you were, wrapped up in his arms and returning his kiss. It was something he had only ever dreamed of, only ever thought about late at night.

But now, it was reality.

“Let’s get a cup of coffee. ‘S Fuckin’ cold out here.” Joel laughed, and you grinned, taking his hand and holding it tightly. You lead the way, through the snow and cold air, but you both felt warm from head to toe.

~*~*~

Hope you enjoyed reading! Part 3 coming soon <3

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller tlou #Pedro pascal #joel miller x you #daylight series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic

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modern-gremlin · 6 months ago

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Rivals with Benefits | Lance SDV Expanded (FWB to Lovers) 🔞 PT. 1

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART 1/2

Summary: If it weren't for Marlon, you wouldn't have bothered to help Lance out with his research, especially not by the way he gets on your nerves. You tried to give him a piece of your mind, but you might have given bit more than you intended.

Pairing: Lance (SDV Expanded) x afab!reader Tags: Smut, kind-of-tsundere reader, Friends with Benefits situationship, detailed depictions of sex. NSFW Tags below the cut. Word Count: 7k (oops) A/N: I just kept getting ideas for a Lance Rival to FWB to lovers story line and now I’ve word vomited it all here. IMAGINE, I had the intention to make this whole thing around 2,000~3,000 words?! lmfao, a fool I am. Well, here's to Part One~ I've written it in the perspective of a foolhardy, tsundere-ish farmer who's been trying to work their way up as an apprentice to Marlon. They're such a little shit on the outside but a softy in the inside <3 They have no idea how down bad they are for Lance, but they find out soon enough. I had so much fun writing this one, hope you enjoy xoxo

NSFW Tags: dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, backshots

When you first met Lance, you couldn’t deny that you were a little more than curious about the "mystery man" who greeted you at the top of the Caldera. You were smitten, more like, but you wouldn’t dare admit that now. Lance has been getting under your skin ever since he’s been asked to join the Adventurer’s Guild. Marlon might think he's a reliable and experienced combat mage, but you see right through that façade.

He's more like an over-confident killjoy who thinks he knows everything, you think to yourself. He's always quick to make objections to your suggestions — "That seems rather risky, don't you think?" he says. "You should carry more medicine with you," he says. Please, as if you couldn't handle yourself in the mines. You've been down there countless of times; so what if you've come out very a little battered every now and then? For whatever reason, he seems to single you out the most out of all the adventurers who visit the guild. To make matters worse, he never seems bothered whenever you make verbal jabs at him. He always maintains that arrogant smirk on his face and pretends that you've won the argument. Screw him and his stupid handsome face.

Your rivalry with him is no secret to the rest of the guild — almost every meeting starts with a battle of wits between you two, until Marlon practically has to pull you two apart from one another. "Get a room, you two," Gil would often remark something of the like, just barely raising himself from his regular spot by the fireplace. You hate how Lance just chuckles under his breath as you try to explain to the old man how the tensions between you two are "strictly from annoyance". You definitely don't sneak glances at him when he's none the wiser, and surely you just "coincidentally" bump into him at least twice a week (as if he hadn't already given you his schedule.) He just gets on your nerves. That's all, isn't it?

That's certainly what you convince yourself until one day you're sent to the Highlands Outpost to help him with a special research initiative. You wouldn't have taken the job if Marlon hadn't been so insistent that you'd be a perfect fit for the task. It wouldn't be wise for an apprentice to reject their mentor's request when they point out their strengths, so begrudgingly you agree. There's a clear enclosure in your greenhouse set aside for Lance's "little experiment". Good thing you've made decent enough clearance around your fruit trees — these plants are almost vicious as the creatures that drop them. Some are poisonous, some emit a strange dark aura, one of them is just downright creepy. To say this project is completely unorthodox would be an understatement, but admittedly, you are intrigued by the monster crops and the arcane powers they might possess. It only comes with the minor grievance of having to report to Lance every so often; tending to these crops every morning does seem like a cruel daily reminder of your rivalry with him. But with the final monster fruit harvested and stored, your mission is finally about to come to an end. Placing each of the crops inside a burlap sack, you make the trip out to the Highlands.

Upon arrival at the outpost, you notice that there's no one in sight. Just the peaceful view of the cedar trees stretching to the top of the mountain side, occasionally lit by the blue flames Lance had decorated around the area. From this safe distance, the view from the Highlands is breathtaking in the late summer evening. If you hadn't known that these fields to be riddled with monsters galore, you'd bet this would be a pretty nice place to camp out for a while. The sun slowly dips below the horizon as you breathe in deep swaths of fresh air. Not a bad spot to be stationed to, you think to yourself. Sure, the valley is modestly beautiful too, but you do wonder why Lance had accepted a job there when his schedule already has him spread thin. Besides, the Highlands Outpost is quite scenic itself. You really can't complain for the extra help though — as much as you hate to admit it, he's been a valuable asset to the guild. Now with Lance, once again, entering your mind, you remember the purpose of your visit. Taking in a last few breaths of the evening breeze, you slowly make your way to the outpost tower door. Like always, you announce yourself the same way; three quick knocks against the wood and an "it's me" signals to Lance that is you, in fact, at the door. "Come in," he routinely answers.

Once you enter the room, you see Lance sitting at his desk. He's too busy scrawling notes in his journal to greet you just yet. The room echoes when he gently slaps his journal shut to turn his attention to you. You swear he keeps a list of things that piss you off in that little book of his, because it's like he knows just what to say to make your face turn into a cherry tomato. "Good evening, farmer," he greets you cheerily, "have you come to keep me company tonight?" The peace and tranquility from your nature walk quickly dissipates the moment he teases you. "Yeah, you wish," you remark with a sneer, "I've come to give you the last of these." Raising the burlap sack toward him, you gently place the crops on the desk in front of him. His mouth curls into a smile as you retrieve each plant from the bag and place them before him. "Wow, these are quite fascinating. Truly remarkable specimen," he says as he carefully examines the freshly-harvested monster crops, "I'm surprised, they're in such perfect condition-" He's surprised? Really? You've been tirelessly caring for these venomous, god-forsaken crops for weeks now. They've been taking up precious greenhouse space that could've been used for ancient fruit and yet, he still has the gall to tease you about it? "Hmph, you're 'surprised?' I thought you'd be smart enough to know I'd be your best bet in cultivating these crops," you scoff, turning away from his gaze in a meek attempt to hide your pouting face from him, "A 'thank you' would have sufficed." Sigh, what was I expecting? You curtly head towards the door with the job finally being done.

"Pardon me, I didn't mean any ill-will. I'm only surprised because I had thought it would be impossible to cultivate these kinds of seeds," he places a palm on his neck as he corrects himself, "I've tried several times with no success." This stops you from storming out of the outpost tower and he continues in response, "I truly am impressed. Marlon was right to entrust you with this task, thank you." His sincerity is almost believable, but you know better to believe his charismatic antics. You march back toward the desk he's seated in front of, readying a pointing finger toward him to confront his sweet-talking attitude. But this time, without Marlon to stop you, you're determined to let him have a piece of your mind. "You know what? Everyone thinks you're so eloquent and great. Oh but I see through that act of yours," you annoyedly remark, pressing your index to his chest. "What is it about me that you dislike so much, hm? You think just because you're some… good-looking, combat mage prodigy, you get to push me around? You've been nitpicking my every move for months now!" For a moment, Lance is at a loss for words. He just stares up at you with wide eyes, which causes heat to spread across your cheeks.

"Dislike? I know I enjoy a little bit of banter with you every so often, but dislike? Do I really give the impression that I dislike you?" he asks earnestly. You retract your finger and hesitantly take a step back. His question takes you by surprise; it never really occurred to you might have read his intentions wrong in the first place. But still, you're much too stubborn to give in now. "Y-yeah? I mean, you're always picking on me and never any of the other adventurers at the guild. If you don't dislike me, what gives?" You pray he didn't catch the shakiness in your voice, but if your trembling lips didn't give it away, the flush that's spreading from your cheeks to your ears quickly reveal how nervous you are. His familiar chuckle escapes from his lips and now he's looking at you with a playful grin. "It might be because you're always the most charming person in the room. In any room, if I'm honest."

Now he's done it. The blush on your face has gone from cherry tomato to actual-cherry-red. You can't even spew vitriol back at him to hide how giddy you actually are. It's like your heart is lodged in your throat and its beating prevents you from speaking. "I don't dislike you in the slightest. My apologies, I didn't realize I was coming across as harsh." His smile subtly switches from sly to warm, as if he's trying to convince you to believe him. "Pfft... me, charming? Th-that's hard to believe, considering how you've been targeting me since you arrived at the valley," you retort nervously, your eyes shifting away from his. Almost as if he knew you were trying to plan your escape, his next words glue you to the floor. "Perhaps I have been singling you out too much, but I promise I don't do it purposefully — I'm sorry. I admit I do enjoy teasing you, though. I've grown quite fond of that pout of yours, it's rather cute."

Ugh, no. This wasn't how this was supposed to go, you think. He wasn't supposed to have you speechless and red in the face. This isn't fair. You want to be furious but your heart is betraying you. It's clouding up your mind so much that you can't even stop the smile creeping on the corner of your lips. He's not making it much easier for your ego now either, because he's enjoying your bashful display a little too much for your liking. If only you could stop him from doing that thing; the thing where he chuckles and send butterflies rushing through your stomach. You just want to wipe that stupid, handsome smile off of his stupid, handsome face. And to both of your surprise, you actually do.

You don't even take time to consider your actions before you're catching his mouth onto yours. A deep, longing kiss — something you've secretly wanted since he first appeared in front of you. At first, he's rendered motionless from the shock, but soon you feel the heat rise onto his cheeks and he sinks into you. Your lips are even softer than he imagined and you never realized how intoxicatingly good he smells. It's only then when you realized what you've done; your mind is screaming at you to pull away but you can't. His mouth on yours is quelling the fire in your heart and besides, you couldn't move away even if you wanted to. You simply couldn't by the way his hands have trailed to your waist to pull you deeper into him. You, so badly, want to pretend like you hate this but it's like your whole body has given up and given in to how you truly feel: you are undeniably, foolishly, attracted to this man. Really, it's almost stupid how eager you are to be touched by him. At least one part of you is honest to your feelings. The only remnant of anger left in you is how mad you are at yourself for being bested by him, again. As always.

Then, it occurs to you: weren't you the one who pulled him into the kiss? Aren't you the one who's making him lose his usually composed demeanour and making him groan under his breath? You grin against his lips when it finally hits you: you are the one in control right now. He can tease you with words all he wants, but you've landed the first blow. Now, the nature of the game has changed. All caution has been thrown into the wind, and you've dedicated yourself to completely making a mess of him, even if you make a mess of yourself in the process.

It's your turn to make the next move. Kissing him with much more purpose and fervour, you gently take his bottom lip in between your teeth causing him to return the action. You tactfully graze your nails across his chest upwards towards the back of his head, letting his pink hair run between your fingers. He's pulling you in tighter now so your chest lies flush onto his — so close, you can feel each other's heartbeats rattling in your ribcage. You're not sure if he's doing this on purpose, but your breasts are pressed so nicely against his toned chest that even his breathing elicits a small whimper from you. His hands rub lightly up and down the small of your back, keeping you stuck against him. The arousal of it all threatens to throw you off track, but he unwittingly reminds you of your plan when he pulls away to tease you, "If I had known this is what you wanted, I would have revealed my affections for you sooner." His grip upon your waist had threatened to make you abandon all wits and give in to his touch, but when that dastardly smile appears on his face again, you're reminded of what you must do.

You're absolutely relishing in satisfaction when you shock him once more, because now you've wrapped your legs around his, straddling his lap, purposefully resting yourself on his growing bulge. For once, he's not quick to retaliate at your advances. This time, he's just mesmerized by your brazenness. He'd be lying if he said that he hasn't fantasized about this exact scenario countless times, that you weren't the first to come to mind on particularly lonely nights at the outpost. But he never, in his wildest dreams, thought he'd be spoiled like this today. He lets you make your next move by staying still; as if he were to move, he'd accidentally wake himself up and find this was all a dream. However, his hesitance is what's getting to you now. Why is he so quiet? Does he want me to move? Shit, if he doesn't like this, I should get off of him, ramble the doubts running through your mind. But as you attempt to shuffle off his lap, he catches you by the back again to keep your weight on top of him. You can't believe how needy he looks right now, so needy for you touch him. You have your confirmation — he's wrapped around your finger.

"Wow, you're so quiet now. That's very unlike you, Lance" you tease. "You need me to move, hm? Or would that be too much for you?" You smile at him smugly as you place your hands on his shoulders. "You don't need to hurry the pace on my behalf, sweetheart. Only go as fast as you can handle," he says, retaliating with a smirk. You think I can't handle this, huh? I'm gonna make you eat your words, you think to yourself. In a quick grind of your hips, you graze your clothed cunt against him causing both of you let out a sharp breath at the stimulation. God, maybe he was right. Maybe you can't handle this because this movement alone is driving you crazy. I mean, it definitely has been a while since you've hooked up with somebody, but this feeling is much more overwhelming than anything you remember. There's no way you'd be able to live it down if you were to cum on him just from this. Maybe I should stop while I'm ahead, you think to yourself. But he's giving you a look he's never showed you before — he looks so hungry and dazed. You can't stop now, not when you have him against the ropes like this. So you ease into a rhythm, using your grip on his shoulders as leverage to rock your clit onto his length.

This is bad. Really bad. You're absolutely dripping on his lap and moaning into his ear, and you're not even going that fast. Definitely not as nonchalant as you hoped you could be. Lucky for you, Lance doesn't seem to notice. Judging by how hard he is, he's probably too turned on to care. You just hope your wetness isn't soaking through your clothes. Still, you consciously slow down your pace to let yourself calm down. This, however, does catch Lance's attention. "Come on, what happened to that vigour? You can do better than that. Here..." he scolds, now grabbing the fat of your ass in each of his hands. "...allow me to help you with that." You whine at his sudden movements as he makes you rub faster against him. Moans keep slipping through your mouth no matter how hard you try to bite your lip to hide them. You can feel him buck his hips under you in perfect rhythm to his hands that pull you against his length. Fuck, why does he have to be so fucking good at this?

You can feel the knot in your stomach beginning to untie itself, ready to make you burst. Not good. You have to think of something, and think of it fast. He's still grinding you on top of his cock when you lean in for a kiss yet again, this time, pressing the weight of your chest entirely on top of him. You push forward against him so hard that the chair you're both supported upon nearly tips over, until he grabs table before you both fall. "Don't get too carried away now," he says with a smile. "Says you," you retort back breathily. His words are unwavering but you can see it; there's a bead of sweat dripping from his brow and he's breathing is erratic. He's not faring as well as he's leading on. It's time to make him pay for taking the reigns away from you.

With his grip loosened, you free yourself to stand in front of him, standing with your back facing toward him. He opens his mouth to tease you again, something like "It felt good for me too, darling. No need to be shy," but really, his assessment of the situation couldn't be further from the truth. He couldn't get the words out before you begin unbuttoning the top of your blouse, slowly and alluringly allowing the fabric to slip off of you. You can't see him, but you can practically feel his eyes burning a hole through you; he's got to be fucking you with his eyes by now. You peer over your shoulder as you slip your bra straps off of them, and oh my god, the look on his face. He's basically salivating at the sight of you and you're not even fully naked yet. You sneak him a cheeky smile and unclasp the last of the hooks on your bra, letting the article fall to the floor. He grabs at his throbbing cock while shuffling in his seat when he realizes how his pants are fitting much too tight right now. He badly wants to reach forward and turn you around so he can get a full view of your front, but before he can even get up from his chair, you're already slowly pulling your pants down to reveal the black lacy underwear underneath. Every obscene word he's ever known is threatening to leave his lips all at once and ruin his eloquent reputation — he can only contain himself by running his fingers through his hair; an act of self-soothing. You turn around in an unhurried pace leaving him to wait with bated breath, waiting to catch the full glimpse of you. And when you're fully exposed, he's completely awestruck.

"Stunning. Absolutely stunning," he praises, shaking his head in disbelief. You've never smiled wider than now as you watch him scan every part of you up and down. Still facing him, you sit yourself upon the bed. "Wanna take these off for me?" you say while darting your eyes down to your panties. Grinning from ear to ear, he gets up and walks toward you in response. You fully extend your arm and with an open palm, stopping him from approaching. "Hm actually, nope. It's your turn now," you chide. "Show me what I'm working with first."

He lets out a chuckle at your command, but he's quick to oblige. "As you wish, sweetheart." You can't even get yourself to hate the little nickname he attaches at the end of his sentence — it just sounds so sexy when he's stripping down in front of you like this. He expertly unbuttons his shirt to reveal his muscular body. You hope that your inner thoughts can remain hidden because right now, they're screaming about how incredibly attractive he is. You would have bet that he'd be well in shape but god, he's a work of art. Much like yours, his shirt falls to the floor with a light thud, allowing you to take in his every feature. He's so hot, it's almost unfair. Soon, the sound of his belt buckle being undone echoes around the room. He stops himself after unbuttoning the top of his pants before looking at you, "Is this what you're looking for?" gesturing his eyes towards his bulge. Swallowing thickly, you mumble as clever of a response you can muster, "Maybe, not bad so far." He knows you're lying through your teeth by the way you bite your lip, how your eyes track his hands as he slowly slips his pants down past his waist. Your lips are raw and slightly swollen from how much you've had to bite down on them today because your pride truly depends on it. But the moment his pants hit the floor, your pride seems to matter much, much less than your need to have him entirely.

You're too mesmerized by his near naked body that you hardly notice he's standing right in front of you now, leaning inches over you with his arms supporting his weight upon the bed. Face to face with one another, you stare into each other's eyes intensely — anticipating the next move. "Well, what are you waiting for?" you say with a provoking smile, "Take these off of me." He dives in for a kiss, one that leaves you breathless and lightheaded. Before long, he's placing kisses down your body, grazing his fingers over your nipples to make you squirm beneath him. His hands tease around your body until they land themselves under near the waistband of your underwear, and with a swift tug, he pulls them past your ankles. Instinctively, you want to close your legs to shield yourself from exposure, but his hands are already placed upon your knees, preventing you from covering the view he wants to see so badly. And what a view it is. The sight of your pretty wet pussy makes him swear under his breath.

"Fuck..." he curses softly then quickly clears his throat to conceal his profanity, "So perfect." He runs his fingers from your knee up to the inside of your thighs, itching to reach your centre. His touch sends shivers down your spine — you just can't believe this actually happening. You've touched yourself an embarrassing amount of times to this fantasy and now, his hand is gently resting upon your pelvis. Any animosity you think you had for him has disappeared almost entirely as you quiver beneath him. He hovers his hand over your desperate cunt for what feels like an eternity before he looks up at you to ask, "may I?" At the nod of your head, he glides two fingers over your slit. A loud moan unabashedly escapes your mouth and he strokes from your entrance up to your clit. His calloused fingers are both rough and sickeningly soft at the same time, it's all too much to bear. You subconsciously reach out to the hand dipped between your thighs, trying to restrain him from sending you over your limit. This only prompts him to apply more pressure to your clit, gently rubbing circles around the bud. Your hips uncontrollably buck against his movements and he just watches. Watches how you throw your head back in pleasure and how you desperately try to hang on to your bearings. He's going to have to check his ego later, because it's absolutely being stroked by the way you convulse from his touch.

He just can't help it. Your slick just coats his fingers so perfectly, he just has to plunge them inside your needy cunt. That's what you're waiting for, isn't it? It must be, by the way you let him slide in his digits in with such ease. His fingers are are so much longer and thicker than yours; they fill your pussy so much deeper than you can by yourself. Just two fingers is all is takes to arch your back in pleasure and grab a fistful of his bedding for stability. You're already losing your mind, but this is just a sign for him to keep plunging in and out of you. A sign for him to curl his fingers upward as he pumps them inside your cunt, coaxing your orgasm out from the deepest parts of you. Oh god. You can definitely feel it now. Your high is clawing its way out with every push into your core. It's too fucking good, is all you can think but your lewd cries are begging for more. Begging for more fullness, begging for his cock to bury itself deep inside you. Setting aside your pride, you muster a pitiful plea that targets his primal instincts, "P-please." Your tone makes him stop, yet his fingers are still buried to the knuckle inside you to feel how you clench around him. The headstrong adventurer beneath him has been reduced to a meek little lamb, and his hero's intuition wants to soothe the small voice that's begging for his attention.

"What is it, angel? Are you not satisfied?" he asks softly, lightly scissoring his two fingers inside you. "Please what? I can't help you if you don't tell me." His words would usually suggest he's teasing you but the way he's caressing your cheek has you thinking that he is actually looking to offer you some relief. So you answer him in kind by reaching out with both of your hands, caressing his face and breathily pleading, "Please...let me ride you. I wanna feel you." Placing a soft but deep kiss on your lips, he catches the whines falling from your mouth when he frees his fingers from inside you. "As you wish," he obediently assures you against your open mouth. You stare at the ceiling, panting erratically to calm yourself from the loss of stimulation. Meanwhile, Lance is already positioning himself to lay flat on the bed, his head at the top of the headrest. The bed's shifting weight snaps you back down to earth, just enough for you to turn around for the sight that, quite literally, lays before you.

He's pulled down his underwear to reveal his thick, throbbing cock — patiently waiting for you to mount him just like you asked to. For a moment, you're just stuck. Completely hypnotized by his length, your mind races with thoughts of him entirely enveloped inside you. The hunger in your eyes must have been enough of a clue to him, because now he holds himself by the shaft for you to ogle at. Then, as if your body is moving on its own, you slowly approach him. Presenting your hips on his lap until your slit is mere inches away from his dick. You're just taking the time to admire his length, but your hesitance is like torture. You're so close to him, yet so far away. The way your pretty pussy is drenching his thighs tempts him to bully himself into you, but suddenly your hand reaches for his tip. He sharply exhales as you palm the head of his cock, making his whole length glisten in his precum. Just moments ago, he was fingering you to submission, but now, he's at your mercy. Gripping the shaft, you grind his wetted tip against your clit; mixing your wetness with his. You'd revel in the way you make him shudder for much longer, but your own patience is reaching its end. Your knees planted on each of his sides, you guide him to your entrance.

"Come get what you asked for," he begs with a growl, his voice bellowing from the recesses of his throat, "give it to m-" His words end abruptly when you lower yourself onto his length. "Holy shit," you whisper — his tip has barely entered your wet hole yet you feel yourself being stretched by his size. He's groaning and gripping your thighs tightly from the way your cunt squeezes him. You place your hands on his abs for support to push his thick cock deeper and deeper into you, all the while trying to ignore the jolts of pleasure coursing through you. And with a soft clap of your ass on his thighs and pained moan from his mouth, he's entirely inside you — pulsing and throbbing against your cervix. His girth fills you so perfectly that your legs start to shake. You're already so drunk on his cock that your words come out slurred, just barely coherent. "Big..." you lazily mumble, making him hum in response. "It's so...big." Utter overwhelm washes over you both, so much so that you can't muster the strength to tease each other. Completely humbled by the pleasure of just being connected.

You're both still for a moment, like you've made a silent agreement to savour the feeling — not daring to move at the risk of reaching your peaks before the fun had begun. But every second you wait allows you to feel how he fills you to the brim, his shape moulding into you. He's not doing much better, not when your needy cunt is threatening to milk him dry. As soon as you feel accustomed to his size, you ask for his permission to move, echoing back his earlier gesture, "may I?" His hands find place above your hips, his eyes fixed with furrowed brows to where you're connected. Finally, he grants your wish, "Please."

Lifting yourself up by the knees, you pull yourself to his tip just to ease him back into you. A mess of slick leaking out of you as you push his hard cock into your depths. The first thrust is intense but oh so addicting. So you lift yourself up again, this time, lowering yourself with more enthusiasm. The sound of your dripping cunt smacking into his base is quickly followed by a slew of groans from both your mouths. The sounds, the heat, the rollercoaster of pleasure…it's so hard not to indulge in it all. So, naturally indulge is exactly what you do. You lock into a rhythm, bouncing up and down on his dick like it was made for you. The caution in your movements have long disappeared as you grind and rock his length into you over and over again. The sight below you just encourages you to fuck him into you with more fervour, plunging his cock as deep as your pussy allows. Lance looks into your eyes like he worships you, heaving and muttering profanities under his breath. Can you really blame him? His view of you is tantalizing; your greedy cunt gushes all over him as his cock disappears inside you, tits bouncing at your rhythm, and your face. God, your face has him going feral with admiration of you. So honest and revealing of how much you've wanted him this whole time.

Your pace is becoming off-beat the closer and closer to cumming you get. A small part of you was clinging onto the hope that you'd make him cum first, but that plan is damned by how good it feels. I don't care anymore — I just wanna fucking cum, you think as you bring a hand to your puffy clit, rubbing rough circles around it. You're so goddamn close but your legs are giving out before you can feel your release, just edging you away from your orgasm. But like he can interpret your petulant whines, he lifts you by your waist and bucks his hips violently upward into your spasming cunt to resume the pace. "Don't slow down now," he commands with ragged breath; his sentence fragmented by his careless thrusts into you, "You're so close, I can feel it. Don't stop, cum for me." He fucks up into you with so much strength that you reach one arm backward to hold on his thigh for stability, the other listening to his demands and rubbing you anxiously toward your orgasm. The clapping of your bodies get faster and faster, then suddenly, it stops. Only the sound of his name echoes around the room and he rocks deeply into you through your orgasm. Your head is thrown back as you convulse wildly on his cock, still nestled against your cervix. It's the only thing you can feel as the earth shatters around you. You're only brought down to reality by his soft coos entering your ears, "that's it, angel. That's it."

Your body slumps weakly as the tension slips away. Leaning forward, he presses kisses on your neck, whispering praises against your skin. Praising you for how well you took it, for how good you're being right now. Even if all he could do today is make you reach your high, he'd be more than satisfied. That's why it's so surprising when you turn yourself around and bend your tired body before him. Your face rests steadily on the bed as you gently wiggle your hips to invite him in. You can't see it, but his face lights up into a wide grin. "My god, you're insatiable," he teases, giving your ass a light smack as he lines himself up to you. Even in your fucked out bliss, you find the strength to tease him back, "Gotta finish what I started, don't I?" Without much thought, he shoves his cock back into you with rough thrusts. Your overstimulated pussy takes him back with ease, letting him plow harder and harder into you. Your muffled cries sink into the sheets as he pounds you, you can't hear anything but the sounds of sex and his grunts. He leans over to whisper to you, now thrusting deeper than he could before, "Don't worry, I'm c-close. So…close." You're so eager to please, you lean backward into him, coaxing him closer to his own orgasm. He moans louder and louder until one word signals his impending high, "Y-yes…" He was so close to filling you before he pulls out, spilling his cum on your back while he strokes the top of his dick. With gravelly groans, he lets his hot seed spurt out of him, covering your backside in white.

Still leaning forward on you, he rests his sweat-covered forehead near the nape of your neck, spreading hot breath down your spine. And just like the way you started, you fall back into the silent agreement of stillness. The thick air in the room slowly thins as your breathing grows slower, and slower in pace. You shiver from the cool air of his body leaving yours, only to have him return to wipe you clean with a cloth from his nightstand. Once he wipes you down, he tosses the cloth to his desk and lays himself beside you. Rolling over to look at the ceiling, you find yourself perfectly parallel to him; your shoulder just grazing his. The moment is both awkward yet comforting — lying quietly beside him as you wrap your head around about the night's events. It's rare for you to find peace within each other's company like this, so neither of you decide to break the silence for some time.

Your eyes begin to flutter closed until his voice spurs you awake, "Well, I was certainly not expecting this today," he chuckles, "But I'm not foolish enough to complain." For once, you laugh alongside him. "Yeah, but you are foolish enough to get seduced by me," you snicker. He perches himself up by the elbows to beam at you, "Is that so? Am I incorrect in assuming you enjoyed it too, hm?" he probes, hoping to call you out on your bluff. With a hiss leaving your gritted teeth, you admit, "Ha, yeah. Fine. You're not wrong... But don't get used it." You smile at the ceiling with your eyes closed, amused by your back and forth. Even with your eyes closed, you can tell he's still looking you until you feel him lie back down beside you. He's just staring at the ceiling too, pondering his next words carefully.

"Well, that is a shame. If I'm honest, I wouldn't mind this being a regular occurrence." You wish you could stop yourself from smiling at his admission but it's impossible — there is simply no restraint left in you to hold back. He continues on, "But, if you'd rather this be an isolated incident, I'll honour your wishes. It'll be hard to forget tonight, but I will try my best to do so."

You let out a deep sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose with your index and thumb. You take a few seconds to listen to the arguing voices in your mind. On one hand, this was totally unexpected and definitely not what you intended when you started the confrontation. You're still a little scorned from his nitpicking over the past few months, but is there really a way to go back to where you two were before? On the other hand, god, you needed this. You've sworn yourself off relationships for a while the moment you packed your life away from the city. You just want a simple life where the only drama you have is from adrenaline-fuelled adventuring. But nearly two years into the valley, your fingers and toys are hardly enough to satisfy you. You've got needs too, don't you? And yeah, fine. You admit, you couldn't ask for a better person to meet your needs if you tried. The prideful side of you wants to scoff and shoo him away, but every other part of you knows exactly what you want.

Against your better judgement, you blurt out, "Okay…so what if this was a regular occurrence?" Wait, did you just say that out loud? Well, it's too late now to take a step back isn't it? He's already looking at you with his eyebrow raised, so you continue, "I mean…I'm not sure if I want a relationship right now, exactly. But…" It's your turn to perch yourself on your elbows to look at him.

"Okay, look. You're busy all the time, and so am I. But we're adults with needs, right? So how about we continue—whatever this is—no feelings attached, hm? No need for labels or expectations, just two adults blowing off steam." God, this is embarrassing. You've never attempted a relationship like this before and now you're trying to establish one with the guy you swear you hated up until an hour ago? What the fuck am I doing? Doubts start creeping on you again, nearly causing you to spit out a mess of words to take back everything you offered, but he cuts in before you can.

"Hm…yes. I think this arrangement would work for me," he ponders with a hand to his chin, not noticing your mouth agape from his agreement. "I am busy, that much is true. With my schedule, a committed relationship hasn't been able to fit in with my lifestyle. And it would be ideal to do such things with someone I could trust…" his sentences trail off with a lilt, as if he's thinking out loud before trailing off.

You catch him off guard and complete his thought, you sit up to face him and extend your right hand. "So is it a deal?"

Sitting up to match your height, he stares at you for a moment, contemplating what he's about to get himself into. Then, he cheekily smirks and with a firm grip on your hand, he seals the agreement.

"It's a deal."

PART ONE — EPILOGUE

Marlon grunts as he lifts himself up from the edge of his boat, stretching out his aching knee from the lengthy voyage. It's no secret that the adventurer is getting older, but these trips are still a breeze for him — minus the small tinges of pain from his joints, of course. After laying down his anchor and tying the ship to the dock, he retrieves his lantern among his belongings to make his way up to the outpost tower. The Highlands is his last stop to report to after his meeting with the Castle Village Guard. The sun has just dipped below the horizon now, so he hopes it won't be too much trouble to ask to rest up in the guard tower before setting sail again.

Once he reaches the top of the steps, he notices that Lance isn't stationed in his usual spot by the balcony. This is an uncommon sight, but not unheard of. More than likely, it usually means he's locked in focus with his research inside. But as Marlon approaches the tower, he's alarmed by loud groans sounds coming from within the room. Resting his hand against his scabbard, he slowly approaches the door, so as to not alert whatever creature has made its way into the outpost. Carefully stepping inches within the door, he gently places his ear against the wood before pulling quickly away. "Oh for fuck's sake," he mutters, his face now red with embarrassment. He released his grip on his weapon to plant his face firmly into his palm. Quickly stepping away from the tower, he mumbles annoyedly under his breath, "It's about fucking time."

Climbing back into the boat at the docks, he decides he'll just sleep there instead. Looks like Marlon has a long night ahead of him, at least until you finish up and notice him in the morning.

—

END OF PART 1/2

#holy shit I finally finished it ahhh #time for part two hehehe #stardew valley #sdv smut #sdve #stardew valley expanded lance #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley smut #sve lance #sve lance x reader #smut #sdv fanfic #fwb to lovers #rivals to lovers #grem-writes

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