#the acolyte imagine

[spiritsdiary]

— PRAISE with QIMIR/THE STRANGER

wc: 786 | content: p in v smut, i was again reasonably tipsy while writing this

❛❛good.” he breathes the word into the skin of your shoulder, watching intently as you work.

you wonder if he does it on purpose; if he’s feigning complete obliviousness to how suggestive he sounds. like right now— saying good like that when all you’ve done is properly mix a poison the way he taught you. maybe it’s because you’re a quick study when your reward is him.

when you first met qimir, you thought he was just like every other apothecary owner you utilized when necessary: clumsy, generally oblivious, a drunk who saw nothing wrong with being intoxicated before noon. to your defense, he played the part very well. it was only when you mentioned that you’d be extending your stay for a while and could use some work that you started to see the cracks in his facade.

spending so much time with him gave you a glimpse into his true persona— something darker, yes, but instead of scaring you off, it drew you in. you had a feeling that there was more to him underneath his baggy clothes and perpetually messy hair, but you never thought that all you’d have to do was let him teach you his trade in order to find out what more was.

“good,” he says again now as you insert the stopper into the vial of poison. “that’s perfect.”

you chew on your lip as you think about the last time he said that to you. “anything else you need from me?”

he hums, fiddling with the material of your sleeve at your wrist. “stay while i close up?”

you never understand how he’s able to get you to do what he wants so easily until you’re in bed with him.

his arms are so much more built than you’d imagined, his whole body really, and the first time he used that hidden strength to get you exactly where he wanted you, the words “thank you” genuinely slipped past your lips. you told yourself you were thanking the maker.

you do a lot of thanking the maker these days.

he moves differently in bed than he does in all other aspects of his life. here, he’s fluid, powerful, commanding. and he spares no detail.

“yes, yesyesyes,” he moans out when you sink down on him, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises, slowly beginning to guide you back and forth. “just like this. you know how to do it.”

your hands are gripping his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him while he clutches at your back, and your hips seem to move with a will of their own. you don’t care if it exhausts you. if his pleasure is at your own expense.

“there you go, pretty girl,” he says, voice deep with desire, passion, for you. “let me see how good you are.”

you lean forward and press your lips to his, let him pry you open with his tongue, pull depraved sounds from your mouth. his hips cant up into yours as you do everything he taught you, everything that you know makes him feel good.

it makes you feel good too, knowing you’ve earned every gasp and moan and touch he gives you. he’s a different animal when it’s just the two of you, and you love knowing that you’re the only one that can bring it out of him.

“qimir,” you whine into his mouth, right when he hits that spot inside of you that has you seeing white. “good?”

you need to hear him say it. he needs to tell you.

“so good. so warm, so tight, so beautiful, fuck—” his hand is between your legs, thumb brushing you with practiced ease. “always my good girl.”

“only me?” you can’t think properly, not when it feels this good, this right to be so close to him, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, soul to soul with the way he reads your mind.

he nods, pushes your hair back from your face.

“only ever you.” he says it with such a passionate intensity, his dark eyes searching yours.

it sets you aflame, has you crying out mere moments later, collapsing into him as he gives you everything he has to give.

there’s something darker inside of him. a deep, yearning darkness prowling under his skin, simmering in his bones. you can practically feel it as you slide a hand over his chest, his pounding heart. like it’s calling to you.

“you always do so good for me,” he’s whispering into your hair, letting you press yourself against him. “sometimes i think i dreamt you up.”

you smile, kissing his neck just to make him shiver.

maybe there’s something darker inside of you too.

m.list

© spiritsdiary 2024. do not repost without permission.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

The Stranger in My Doorway

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You run an apothecary and, for the most part, your usual clients come in looking for pain relievers, salves, bacta sprays, etc. But in walks in a new client looking for something that does quite the opposite.

A/N: something short as i try out writing for qimir. lmk what yall think!

You hear the door open at the front while you're rearranging some products in the back room.

"I'll be with you in a moment!" you hear no reply and quickly move around a few bottles and salves before rushing to the front.

In the doorway of your shop stands a man looking rather disheveled. His hair covers part of his face as he looks around your shop. His clothing sags around his body from the rain.

You clear your throat, "Can I help you?"

"I heard you're the person we go to if someone needs a remedy made," the man states as he continues to take in your shop.

You nod, "Yes, sir. I own and run the best on Batuu. I can make anything you need."

The man looks back at you and with a tilt of his head he asks, "Anything?"

You feel a little uneasy as he stares at you, but you try to cover it with a cough, "Um, I use the term lightly. But I can try my best."

The man slowly walks up to your counter, eyes staring directly at you as he approaches, "Even if it is something that could harm someone rather than heal?"

Your eyes dart to the windows of your shop and the door, to ensure no one is watching or listening. You lean in, "For the right price, maybe."

The man smirks, "A thousand spira for an undetectable poison."

Your brows shoot up to your forehead in excitement, "Done. When do you need it?"

"Tonight. I will come by and retrieve it," the man pulls out a small sack and opens it. You hear the clinking of the spira as he grabs them. He sets five pieces onto your counter, "Five hundred spira now. You get the rest after I have ensured your poison works."

You quickly grab the money, "It will. I can assure you, this isn't my first time doing this, sir."

The man smirks, "We'll see." Without another word, he turns on his heal and heads for the door. Over his shoulder he says, "See you tonight," and then exits.

___________________

You closed your shop early to work on the poison. You wanted to make sure you weren't bothered and no one could catch you making something deadly.

Once it was finished, you waited for the stranger to appear in your doorway again.

When night fell, he returned. The rain had stopped but the ground was still damp. The man stood in your doorway again, clothes and hair no longer clinging to him. You get a better look at him now and you register that he's quite handsome.

As if hearing your thoughts, he cocks a brow at you and you shake your head, letting him into your store.

You lock the door behind you and watch as he picks up the vial from your counter. He holds it up, looking at its color, "What kind of poison did you use?"

You point to the vial in his hand, "That one contains chronamite. Used for a quick death." You dig out a second vial from your pocket, "This one is made from charon venom. Causes a slow and painful death as the venom infiltrates the person's nervous system."

The man fully faces you, leaning back against your counter, arms crossing over his chest, "Why did you make two?"

You shrug, "You never specified how you wanted to use the poison. So I made two. Take your pick."

The man smirks again, looking down at the vial in his hand and the one in yours, "I'll take both."

He takes out his pouch again, pulling out more spiras and setting them on your counter. You look at him with wide eyes, "You don't even know if they'll work!"

"I have a feeling they will," he slowly walks up to you, looking into your eyes and then at the vial. He leans in, lips close to your ear as he whispers, "I think this partnership will be very beneficial to the both of us." He then plucks the second vial out of your hands and heads for the door.

You take a glance at the spiras on your counter and then call out, "Wait." You and he turn to each other, "You gave me an extra thousand?"

He waves the vials, "For the extra vial." You nod in understanding and he says, "See you next time." He gives you a mischievous look and leaves.

You let out a deep breath that you didn't know you were holding. There's something about this man that makes you curious. And now you're hoping you will see him again soon.

[yandere-wishes]

⋆⭒˚．⋆ Ｄｉｄｎ＇ｔ Ｍｅａｎ Ｔｏ Ｓａｙ Ｉ Ｌｏｖｅ Ｙｏｕ ⋆⭒˚．⋆

⋆｡‧˚˚ Yandere!Acolyte Men x Reader ˚˚‧｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡♡ 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝐿𝓎𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓈 ♡ ˚｡⋆

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽☀︎☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

✩彡 Master Sol - Bittersuite | استاد سول

I can't fall in love with you.

He's choking on his guilt again. Scorching memories reciting hymns of fire and black smoke. He can not love, he can not pine, his romances always end in doom. End in bitter blood drenching stars and ghosts scattered across solar systems. Sol can not love you, he must not love you. You're safer out of his reach.

L'amour de ma vie.

He wants to be the one, etching galaxies across your heart and spilling stars into your bones with every kiss. Your smile dips his world in midday pink, all roses and sun blooms. Your voice trails after him, haunting halls and abandoned training rooms. Your name sticks inside his throat, sticky caramel abrading his tongue to be let loose. Love of his life.

Love so bittersweet.

There are other universes, he likes to think, where his mistakes are little and he has the right to hold you in his arms. You call out to him during missions, all epithets and formality, he longs to hear to say 'Sol'. just 'Sol'.

Longs to kiss you in the dark where his memories can't reach him. You're so bittersweet…

"(Y/n)…"

⭒⭒✮ Yord Fandar - Halley’s Comet | یورد فندار

I don't want it.

He chews on the thought of you, sour under his tongue. He watches you parry under the stars, saber humming orthodox hymns. He can spill lies from his lips like coronal rain. But the confession never sticks, he shouldn't want this, want you.

And I don't want to want you.

In his dreams he's more honest, leaving a galaxy of love bites across the vast expansion of your essence. Kissing the dark corners of your eyes and sucking tenderly on the pearls of your spine, open-mouthed when he reaches your nape. Curling fingers in the nebula of your hair. You sing his name so freely it has him seeing stars.

But you're all it takes to break a promise.

He kisses you, against the temple wall, drinking in your devotion like elysian ichor. The stars in your eyes explode, whispering tenets between each breath. He feels the force reverberating between your bones, holy, ethereal. This is wrong, fundamentally, spiritual, he doesn't want to want you…But he has to.

"I, I need you."

༻｡｡☾ Qimir - Bossa Nova | قیمیر

Love when it makes you lose your bearings.

His love is an asteroid field, cataclysmic and labyrinthine, always dodging bullets aimed point blank at tattered hearts. He's always caught wondering who's truly lost. You or him. Swimming through wandering stars and pretending it's just a force-willed romance. But love doesn't lie to keep one compliant. Caging you between quasars and stella novae.

Some information is not for sharing.

"Eyes down, you've not yet earned to see my face"

You obey, little lamb that you are. Eyes tracing the ebony of his boots. He wonders if he should tell you, grasp your chin, and force his mask off. Shatter your world with his eyes. But you're too cute like this, pining after your master and playing little lovers with Qimir. It's torture most sweetly, he traces the crown of your hair with metal instead of lips, whispering sabbath shibboleths into your head. His love is red in every way.

A lot can change in twenty seconds. A lot can happen in the dark.

The cave is pitch dark, hidden from prying moonlight. It's in the dark that Sith revel in the dark that they renew. Qimir knows some things can only be confessed in blood. That's why he pushes the jagged edges of stars between your lips. Apex of your throat in hand forcing you beneath him. You giggle stardust as he marrs your bones, kissing cuts and open wounds. He lets his mask slide off, to the tune of your heartbeat. Savoring its clank and all it entails. Your shock and fear taste delicious on his tongue as does your fruitless struggle. He kisses you again all passion and possession. He likes you better when you taste of horror and shattered realities.

"You belong to me..."

✧࿐ Torbin - Birds of a Feather | توربین

We should stick together.

You pull him through the temple, laughing as you run away from another angry master. Torbin follows lovestruck, he sees peace in your eyes, in your smile. Hears it in the candance of your voice. He kisses your knuckles when you beat him at saber practice and passes you heart-shaped sticky notes during lessons. He wants to be here with you forever. Together in an eternal blush.

 I'd never think I wasn't better alone.

He whispers your name between breaths, kissing each syllable. He traces your face in the stars, cursing the remote planets he's been sent to. He misses you, but the phrase is never quite worded right, his master can never know, never understand the rhyme behind his eagerness.

Home, home, home. He repeats the words with frantic reverence. Home is where the lights paint you in their heavenly glow. Where you hold his hand and kiss fireflies across his cheek. Home is you, it's always been you…

I'll love you 'til the day that I die.

You trace the scar across his eye, dejected. Torbin kisses the hollow of your palm, basking in your presence. He made it back to you, that's all that matters. Not the witches or the massacred planet. Not the disappointment of his master or Sol's new apprentice. You're the only thing that matters to him, the only thing that has ever mattered.

"Stay with me forever my love."

Happy final week of the Acolyte!! It's been a great 7 weeks ~💜

[yourimagines]

Hi, I’m a big fan and I’m wondering if you could write something about Yord from the new Star Wars series, the acolyte. Fluff?

Thank you and take care 🧡

Hi, I love Star Wars so of course. Tell me what you think about the first two episodes 🧡

Jedi knight

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: fluff

Y/n POV

It was middle of the night when I woke up suddenly by a weird sound. I rubbed my eyes and sat right up in bed. I scanned the room and saw nothing weird. Everyone was still asleep in their beds and the door was closed. ‘Must be the wind then.’ I lay back down and closed my eyes, trying to get back to sleep.

I couldn’t sleep anymore and tossed around my bed. ‘Ugh…maybe I need some fresh air.’ I silently pulled my blanket away and climbed out of my bed. I grabbed my robe and wrapped it around my body, covering my pyjamas. Silently I walked through the room to the door to get some fresh air.

I walked quietly through the Jedi Temple to the Jedi garden. Without getting caught by some of the knights or masters that wandered around the temple at night. I took a deep breath and sat down somewhere more private. ‘What a view.’ I smiled and laid down on my back to look up at the sky, that was filled with stars. “Beautiful isn’t it.” A voice said from behind me. I jumped and sat right back up to meet Yord’s face, he was smiling at me. “Knight Yord, I’m sorry I know I’m not allowed to be here but…” he held his finger up to his mouth, stopping my rambling. “If you talk too much you’ll get in trouble Padawan.” He had a smile on his face. I nodded and mouthed a thank you to him. “You better be gone when I come back in 30 mins, you don’t want to disappoint your master.” I nodded and he slowly walked away, leaving me alone again to watch the stars.

Yord POV

‘Y/n, she’s a few years younger than what I am but so mature. She’s going to be a great Jedi, really dedicated to the ways of the Jedi.’ I made my walk through the Jedi temple and turned around to walk back, one of the younglings caused an outbreak in the animal sanctuary and I was sent to check out the north side of the temple. “All clear, I’ll walk back to the main hall.” I said to the communication device on my wrist. I walked back and stopped by the garden, checking if y/n was still there. My heart slightly dropped as she was gone but I quickly pushed away those feelings as I walked back to the council that were waiting for us at the main hall.

It was early in the morning when I saw y/n, walking around the temple. “Are you lost?” She turned around and smiled at me. “No, I’m just walking around, why?” I shrugged my shoulders and walked together with her through the halls of the temple. “Just wondering, you looked lost.” I crossed my arms and smiled at her. “So you’re trying to be my saver then?” I lightly chuckled and looked away from her. “Maybe I was.” I saw her blushing and looking away from me. “Well thank you knight Yord.” I turned my head to look at her as she said my name. “You’re welcome Padawan y/n.” She nodded and suddenly turned left, leaving me alone as she giggles softly. “Thank you for finding my way through the temple knight Yord, I’ll see you soon.” She whispered the last words as she disappeared into a class room. I smiled to myself and shook my head. “Unbelievable…”

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n:

not requested

“You, too?!” Osha exclaimed, somewhat thrilled to find she was not alone. “Then what are you doing here? You left the Order, what are you doing at the Jedi Temple?” You smiled proudly.

“I am actually a member of the Galactic Senate.” You admitted and her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “After you left, I was inspired to find my roots. I went to my home planet, I tracked down my parents, I learned some things about myself. I felt passionate to help my planet, so over the past few years, I worked. This is actually pretty new.” You explained, almost feeling guilty that Osha didn’t have the same privilege.

“That’s amazing!” She actually hugged you, which you hoped gave her some comfort in all of her current turmoil. “What about the Jedi? Hard feelings?”

“Depends on who, but we have a pretty cordial relationship. I have a new and much needed perspective on politics, so it can be a little tricky in certain situations in Jedi versus Senate, but I’m a great mediator. Especially with the Senate members who aren’t too fond of Jedi.” Sol approached as the two of you discussed your job and he pat you on the back.

“That they are, Senator L/N has been a great help to us, even after their departure from the Order.” You smiled at Sol kindly and thanked him. “Y/N, would you excuse Osha and I, please?”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @summersimmerus // @lady-violet // @simp-legend // @your-local-simp0 //

[mickmoon]

can someone please write something with Qimir + 'empire' by of monsters and men? I don't care if is oshamir, or Qimir/yn, qimir/oc I just NEED to read something about him with this song!!

and please PLEASE tag me

[snipsels]

CHAP. II Strangers ── qimir x jedi!reader

fic masterlist | prev. chapter | wc 1789 | content nightmare sequence + qimir takes you grocery shopping (involuntarily)

note it's only a little problematic how busy i’ve been thanks to quite a bit of alcohol consumption these past weeks but hey! i'm back! sorry for the wait haha + i listened to champagne coast for the last part of the chapter hehe

A void. That was all that surrounded you. As if the universe had collapsed inward and left you suspended in an eternal abyss. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. The only reminder of your existence in the oppressive nothingness.

"Ow!"

Your hands clutched your training saber tighter. Your master had landed a hit on your thigh, catching you off guard with your senses dulled. "Your connection is weak, padawan! Focus! Feel the force flow through you so you may sense what is to come!" his voice bellowed throughout the training room.

You closed your eyes beneath your sensory deprivation helmet, exhaling deeply to regain composure. With each passing breath, you sought to empty your mind, feeling the confines of your body fade until nothing remained. Once more, the void returned and cast you adrift in a solitary darkness. You had become nothing again.

When the stick hit your arm, your saber fell to the floor.

"Padawan! What is the matter with you?" Your master's annoyance ignited a fire within you. A suddenly flame burst to life within the void. With a heated fervor, you tore off your helmet. "I’m trying!"

Your master stood before you in a fog. There was nothing to be seen but the disappointment in his yellow eyes. Staring up at his figure, panting, you felt smaller than ever before, shrinking whilst he grew in stature. You looked down, ashamed of your eruption. "I apologise, master Khreen... I am exhausted."

The Trandoshan man circled you as he spoke. "Practice is the only way for you to improve, padawan. You must commit to it if you aim to be a Jedi Knight one day... If that is what you still desire?"

You head shot up, ready to counter his doubts. But when your mouth opened to speak, it only croaked. You couldn't say yes. You tried again and again but nothing came out. You wanted to say yes, didn't you? You had to. Frantically, your hands clawed at your throat, desperate to dig out the words caught within.

You stopped clawing when you felt an arm snake around you. The scene before you shifted. Your master's eyes were filled with regret now.

The arm around your neck grew tighter and you realised you couldn't breathe. A blaster was placed against your temple and the chokehold you were in prevented you from moving. Panicked, your hands took hold of the arm suffocating you, pulling to no avail.

"Master! Master, please!" you called out to him, an agonizing and shrill edge to your voice as if you had already been screaming for hours. Your master took a step back, holding on to a blurry figure within the fog that you could not see. With every blink of your eyes, he only seemed to get further away.

"Trust in your training, young one, and all will be well," your master assured you as he vanished in the ever darkening haze. "No..." you muttered, the word a whispered protest against your sinking realisation. You had witnessed this scene before.

The arm around your neck loosened, but the despair engulfing you was more suffocating than ever before.

"Ahh," a mechanical voice sighed behind you. Your breath quickened. The arm tightened around your neck. "So this is how they reward you for your efforts..." There was menacing edge to its voice. Straining, you craned your neck to steal a glimpse of your captor. Upon succeeding to turn, your eyes met a set of horrifying teeth fixed into a dark helmet. They widened, suddenly alert. "...Jedi."

Gasping for air, you shot upright in bed, instinctively reaching for your lightsaber. You wasted no time activating it once the weapon was in your grasp. With its glow casting a blue light and erratic shadows over the room, you scanned your surroundings frantically. Besides the ringing in your ears, the only other sounds to be heard were those of your laboured breaths. You reached into the force, seeking any other presence in the room, but found only your own—the void was absolute.

With a trembling breath, you dropped the hand holding your saber, plunging the room into darkness once again. You were no stranger to the play you witnessed tonight. It was a recurring nightmare, having toured around in your mind for six years already. Each night, the scenes would unfold with your master as the lead, taking center stage. You had always been the only one seated in the audience, powerless to intrude on the scene. But this time had been different.

For once, you were not alone in the audience.

There had never been a deep, mechanical voice in your play, never a dark presence pressing you against their chest like that as you watched your master depart from afar. There had never been a... being—whatever it was— that crept into the theatre of your mind and joined you for the show. Never. You couldn't make sense of it.

A shiver of dread crawled up your spine, feeling akin to a set of fingers lightly tracing each cord on your back.

You rubbed your forehead and cradled your head in your hands for a few more moments as you attempted to calm yourself. You had to get it together. This was pathetic.

Scoffing at yourself, you straightened your back and looked towards the window of your humble and—most importantly— temporary abode on Nar Shaddaa, willingly losing yourself in the sounds and sights of passing traffic that offered a cheap distraction.

You only realised how much time had passed when the first dim rays of dawn filtered through your window.

──✶──

"Why are we doing this here?"

The bright flares of the urban market casted vibrant hues across the bustling crowd. Stalls lined the narrow pathways, each one overflowing with exotic wares from all over the galaxy, collected or brought from faraway planets only to have made their way here. To be sold on the black markets of Nar Shaddaa.

The soundscape was a cacophony of noise. Vendors shouted their pitches to passing shoppers, blending with the continuous hum of speeders and machinery overhead. Alien creatures of all shapes and sizes haggled animatedly, their gestures weaving a lively tapestry of motion. It was safe to say the current space was a chaotic one.

Not the ideal place for a strategic meeting.

At your comment, Qimir —busy checking out the quality of a bantha root— turned his head to face you, looking you up and down curiously with raised brows. You raised your own in retaliation, leaning your hip against a market stall. The Ithorian vendor quickly took note and cursed at you to get off immediatly.

"What do you mean?" he piped up, demanding you to divert your attention from your small apologies to the vendor back to him as he replaced the root with a fresher one. He studied it for a moment before facing you fully.

"The market," you replied, gesturing to the stalls with your head. "Why are we meeting here? I thought we were going to discuss our–" you cut yourself off, realising a public announcement of your scheming would do little to prove your point. You glances around and lowered your voice. "–our plans."

"We will,” he replied nonchalantly. “I just thought I'd pick up some produce while we're at it." He shrugged and handed the vendor some credits. You frowned, following his movements. "What?"

Qimir politely accepted the bantha roots from the vendor and sauntered off, scanning the market for the next item to scratch off his grocery list. The vendor grumbled at you as the two of you continued through the marketplace but you paid it no mind. You sped up to Qimir and stepped in front of him, stopping the man in his tracks.

The man standing before you now was a far cry from the imposing one you’d encountered at the bar. There was more overbearing presence, no itch on your skin. Now, he was just Qimir—some loser smuggler from force-knows-where. And in this moment, he seemed almost… mundane.

Looking into his eyes now, you found yourself missing that suffocating itch.

"Qimir, the Hutt have their eyes and ears everywhere on this planet, especially in places like this!" Your hands flailed around slightly in frustration. His gaze remained steady, following your movements with an inscrutable expression. "You can't expect us to talk freely here..." you leaned closer to him as you said it and his eyes lowered to your lips. He took a step closer. You considered stepping back but found yourself rooted in place.

"Don't worry, angel." The tone in his voice shifted. The voices of the people around you grew distant. "I'll take us somewhere more private soon." His eyes returned to yours with a hunger that pierced through you. A hunger to drown in you, to understand you. He looked at you as though he already did. As though he had devoured a piece of your soul already and was so infatuated with its taste he now longed for more.

You cursed yourself for wishing the itch to return, coiling around you like a snake trying to tempt you for a bite. You cursed him too. For standing so unapologetically close. And then yourself again for being too stubborn to step back. Huffing, you hoped to release the tension from your lungs. "What do you even need this stuff for anyway? You gonna a brew potion with these things?"

"I’m planning to treat my partner to a meal, actually," he said with a raise of his brow, lifting the cloth bag of produce a little higher. The corner of his mouth curled up awkwardly, a cheeky expression painted on his face. You blinked. The surrounding clamour returned but your chest squeezed all the same. Fuck.

"You're... making us lunch?" You were taken aback. The gesture was sweet and strangely intimate. You dared yourself to look into those eyes again, seeing them filled with an unexpected warmth. It was unfamiliar, as a Jedi, to be gazed upon this way. It made your mind wander. Would Qimir still look at you like this if he knew who you truly were?

The man before you nodded and tilted his head, feeling something shift within you. His eyes still reflected that genuine warmth. "Well... I am a pretty good cook." When you remained silent —too caught up in your head, those eyes shifted to a stall behind you. He pointed to it with a nod before reluctantly tearing away from you. Like a band-aid a child was afraid to rip off quickly.

"Come on, we've got a lot to discuss."

taglist @gatorgirl007 @taehyunsplanet @angeleen777

[rebelscums]

Little Flower (Qimir x Padawan reader)

Rating: Fluff | Kissing | Light grinding | A pillow is thrown

Summary: You are the padawan to a masked man you had no name of. You have been by his side for years, training and mastering the arts of what he refers to as the dark side of the force. However, with Mae entering your life as his new favorite, you are beginning to question whether you belong there anymore. Something that you run to your closet fiend to talk about. Who knew confessing to Qimir about your trouble would bring a life changing moment.

“I’m not strong enough for him.” That was the first thing you said to Qirmir as you entered his shop. Borrowed shop? You didn’t care.

The defeat in your tone was enough to alert him of your dismay.

“That’s it. I’m officially useless to him. He doesn’t need me.” You blurted out all of your frustrations to the only person you have ever been able to call a friend, “All he cares about is his new acolyte Mae.”

You were both stationed here with Mae as she completed the next part of her trial which was to kill Master Torbin… Without a weapon.

“What makes you say that?” Qimir popped his head up from behind his counter.

“He’s been making me run these needless errands lately that literally anyone else in the galaxy can do.” You set a bag of powdered gold leaves onto the counter, “This took me an entire day to find and when I go back to the spot I left him, he was gone! Gone! Didn’t tell me where either.” You said frustratingly, “So I figured you might know what to do with this.”

Qimir took the bag and peered inside, a please look on his face as he hummed, “Actually I do. It’s the leaves I need to make a poison Mae requested.”

“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of her name.

Mae seemed to be taking the eyes of your master and Qimir lately. Something that made your eyes turn green with the overpowering feeling of jealousy… Of being abandoned.

“Look, I love Mae and she has become very dear to me, but… I was here first.” You felt like a child for saying that, “I know that sounds selfish, but it feels like he just tossed me aside for a better version.” You looked up at Qimir showing him the hurt and betrayal in your eyes before looking away to try and suppress your feelings, “And maybe… Maybe she is better than me… Maybe I should just take my loss and go.” You spoke in a near whisper, your throat tightening at the thought.

“No!” The way he quickly voiced his answer had you looking up at him waiting for him to continue, “You are strong with the force and an extremely skilled assassin.” He shook his head, “You don’t have to leave.”

You sighed and moved past him and the counter, “But what if he wants me to leave Qi? You don’t understand. It’s like he doesn’t even see me or the power I possess. All he ever says to me is that I’m not ready to become his acolyte and that I need to help Mae ascend yet…” You slumped into the cot that he called a bed with a huff, “I’m older than she is! I’ve been with him longer might I add. I’ve never questioned him, I’ve followed him loyally and this is what I am granted with? To be a baby sitter?”

“One useful skill may come out of that job.” He noted and you missed the blush in his face at whatever he was thinking about…

“And what might that be?” You muttered tiredly as you stared up at the ceiling contemplating your life and how you could just be better.

“You would make a good mother?” Qimir shrugged his shoulders as he tried to had the small smirk on his lips.

You launched one of the pillows on the bed the moment those words left his mouth. It was going straight for his head to which he surprisingly dodged with ease, but that didn’t stop the surprised look appear on his face as he raised his hands in surrender.

“Not funny.” You grumbled and crossed your arms, turning to face the wall with a pout.

“Okay okay. I’m sorry.” Qimir said as he walked over to where you were. When you didn’t turn to face him, he decided to take a seat on the edge of the bed beside you. There was a thoughtful look on his face before he spoke again, “Maybe… Maybe he is looking out for you.”

That got your attention. You sat up, your shoulders brushing against his as you peered up at him with confusion, “What do you mean?”

A nervous blush creeped up his face as you leaned closer to him, “Well I mean… I…” He trailed off nervously, “I just mean that maybe you just might be more important to him than you realize. He could be looking after you to take on a more important role.”

“What’s more important than being his acolyte?” You huffed in confusion as you look towards your fiddling hands, “I remember what he said to me all those years ago when we first met. He promised he would make me a powerful force weirder and that I would stand by his side as his acolyte and now… Now I’m starting to question if he really meant it.”

Qimir’s hand found yours and gave it a comforting squeeze, “He meant it and… You are powerful. Just as you are brave and unlawfully kind.” He assured and it was your turn to blush.

It seemed like he always knew what to say to you in ways that made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn, “Qi…” You breathed out as you glanced at his lips.

He was quick to copy your movements leaning in closer to you as he did so, “Maybe he sees too much good in you to turn you into something your not.” He whispered, his breath caressing your skin.

“You seem to know a lot about what he may think.” You whispered, suddenly lost in his darkening gaze, “Why is that?”

“What can I say? I’m good at reading people.” He smirked slightly as he looked down at your lips again, “I’m also extremely possessive over what I care about. Knowing him means knowing you.”

“Okay…” You hummed accepting his answer, “Alright then mister possessive, what am I thinking about right now?” You mused, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.

It was something the Qimir couldn’t get enough of. It was your playfulness towards him that was like a breath of fresh air against the darkness he was met with daily.

“I would say…” His speech was slow as he traced your face with his eyes, “That you really want to kiss me.” He teased lowly. There was a small grin on his face in knowing that he was right.

He was always right.

“Do I now?” You didn’t try to deny it as you leaned in closer to him, “And you? What do you want to do?”

A low noise emanated from his throat, almost like a pleading sound as his lips brushed against yours, “I want to kiss you...” He said in a way that made your heart yearn for him.

“Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me.” You breathed out, your heart racing wildly in excitement.

That was all he needed to hear as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the soft sensation in the way that he kissed you. It was delicate and gentle as if he was afraid to push you too far, but the way your arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to you, was all he needed to know.

He felt like light between your fingertips as you ran your hands through his hair and he was gentle with his movements in guiding you back against the bed. “Beautiful…” He breathed out, fitting himself snugly between your legs.

“Qi…” You breathed his name against his lips, arching your back as he tugged your bottom lips between his teeth. He held himself back, letting go of your lip to really look at you. You couldn’t help but look at him with awe as he gazed at you with so much love and devotion shining in his eyes.

“You are just… Breathtaking.” He admired you with every part of his being, “Utterly breathtaking…” He seemed mesmerized as his right hand traced along your curves.

You blushed, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked away from him embarrassed by his loving words, “Who knew you were such a flatterer.”

He chuckled lowly as he leaned back down to kiss your lips. All too quickly he left and began leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You couldn’t help your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

“You deserve to be flattered.” He continued losing himself in everything that was you. He rocked himself against you as he held back the urge to devour you entirely. He wanted too so desperately now that he knew you were his, body, soul, and mind. He would never let you go, not now… Not until his last dying breath. “You deserve the galaxy, my little flower.” He muttered softly against your skin.

You have much to learn little flower.

You moaned lightly at the pleasure he filled you with almost kissing his last words, but you heard them. Your mind took a moment to register the deeper meaning behind his endearment, but when you did your eyes opened in realization. It was him. Qimir was him. No one knew about that little nickname except for…

“Master?” You whispered running your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, but your heart beat widely in your chest as he stopped kissing you.

“Hm…” He hummed a small smirk gracing his lips as he breathed against your neck, “You finally figured it out.”

You placed your right hand on his cheek and gentle lifted his head to face you, “He’s you?” You said in awe as you pieced together every moment up until now, “You’re him?”

“I am.” He searched your eyes for any fear or resistance, but his shoulders relaxed as he saw none.

“So… That is why you were never around when he— I mean when you were training me? Because you were already there.” Your brows furrowed, “Does Mae know?” A small pang filled your chest at the possibility of her knowing your masters identity before you.

He shook his head, “No.”

The pang quickly left, filling your chest with relief as you let out a small sigh, “So… That’s how you were so sure about how he was feeling because that’s what you truly felt…” A blush filled your cheeks at the kind words he said to you earlier.

However, you realized something else as well. He was the one who kept you from becoming his acolyte. You gasped as you smacked his chest causing him to groan and you would have cared for the old Qimir if you didn’t already know how strong he truly was as your master.

“Why won’t you make me your acolyte?” You huffed slightly embarrassed now that you know you spilled your guts to him, “This entire time I have told you how I felt. I am devoted only to you master so why will you not let me become your acolyte?”

“I thought you would have figured that out by now.” He chuckled shaking his head.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? That is why you train me, it is why you let me stay with you, is it not?”

Strands of his hair fell into his eyes from the way he shook his head. You couldn’t help, but reach up to brush them away, something that had his heart flutter and his lips curl up into a soft smile. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed as he spoke softly, “I don’t want you to become my acolyte anymore because I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you.” His gaze darkened, “I would burn the galaxy before that ever happens.”

You smiled softly and brushed away the creases from his brow, “I know.”

“I want you to be mine.” He nuzzled his nose into your wrist before placing a gentle kiss upon in, “I want you to be my equal… Not as someone who does my bidding, not as my padawan or my acolyte, but someone who stands by me.”

“I want you my little flower because you are everything I wish the world to be.” He finished, a soft look in his eyes.

Love swelled up in your chest at the confession he conveyed so deeply to you. His love sealed your fate to him as you leaned up towards him. You brushed your lips against his, the both of you conveying your strong emotions to one another with the look of your eyes.

“You have my heart Qimir and I will stand by your side, always.” You agreed softly.

It was a promise that the two of you would keep without any doubt. He was yours and you were his until the end of time.

[inklore]

— qimir x f!reader why would you run from him after everything he's shown and given to you. you are supposed to be his perfect acolyte. crafted for him. contents: p in v, over stimulation, semi yandere qimir | wc: 559+

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. How many positions he has put you in. How many times you have begged him for a break, to rest, to catch your breath, to stop the throbbing between your thighs that only gets worse the more he fucks you. 

The more the underside of his cock rubs against your swollen clit. His fingers digging into your thighs as he holds your squirming thighs apart. The force taking over when he grows tired of holding you open for him. 

“Please.” You whined. 

“You sound like you didn’t cause this.” The lack of empathy on his face only makes it worse. Only makes your skin burn and gather sweat, barely filling your lungs. The underside of his cock pushing back and forth through your slit, wet and loud in your eyes. “You did this to yourself.” His words mock you just as much as your arousal does. Evidence of how many times you’ve come, of how your body is spent and can’t stop giving itself over to him. Letting him pull, take, and use you. 

The more his mouth sucks at your clit, the more his fingers curl up inside of you and press against your walls, the more you gush around him. His eyes on yours when you declare you can’t come anymore, and he pulls another from you. 

He allows your fingers to dig into his hair to try and push him away from your swollen cunt. The corner of his mouth pulled up when the flick of his wrist has your hands unable to move. 

Making a show of how powerless you truly are against him in so many ways. So many ways that should fill you with fear. Should anger you. But only heat your cheeks in the opposite effect. The reasons as to why you ran from him long forgotten, long regretted, long praised and thanked by the haze of pleasure, want, the need to rest—to be devoured by him. 

An overwhelming feeling of not being whole, not being able to be put back together unless it’s by his hands taking you apart in the first place. 

His fingers dig into your wrists, your knees pressed against his chest, pushing your ass up from the bed enough to have his hips driving deeper, harder, against it. The tip of his cock hits that part of your pussy that no longer aches when he’s this deep. When your walls are this swollen and fluttering around the thickness of him. 

His mouth leaves bites against your jaw, “are you going to leave me again?” You shake your head, tears sting your eyes, your body spent and overstimulated yet still pulling him in. Still aching for another release and to be awarded his. 

He groans against your cheek, “all I’ve shown you, given you, and you run from me. What happened to my good little acolyte?” His dark eyes look down at you, a hand at the crown of your head, thumb rubbing a soothing circle against your skull. “Are you still my girl?”

You’ll feel pathetic later, no matter how fast your head nods. A sick swoop of joy shoots through your stomach when he smiles down at you. His kisses, once rough, hard, and demanding, now filled with a passion fueled gentleness that makes you come again. 

[eggdrawsthings]

blacked out and drew my girl Jecki

[spiritsdiary]

— DREAMING with QIMIR/THE STRANGER

wc: 932 | content: hints of dubcon, manipulation, very dialogue heavy so my apologies

❛❛it would be easier if you gave in.”

qimir stands over your body, tethered to your mattress by an unseen force.

you purposely stayed up late tonight, determined to be so thoroughly exhausted that you’d sleep peacefully.

and yet he’s still here.

you thought you knew qimir well; better than you knew anyone, even. he was strange, silly, a little clumsy, and disappeared for days or weeks at a time, but you knew him well.

and then he started showing up in your dreams.

it began innocently enough— he would appear in the background, always there but never posing a problem. and when he’d interact with you, it would be normal. he would ask you how your day was going, help you if you needed his advice on something. it felt so real that you began confusing your dreams with reality.

that was when things changed. the next time qimir appeared in your subconscious, he was different. like he is now.

the first thing you noticed was his stillness. he was eerily still. and full of a power you’d never expect from him.

the darkness wasn’t just within him, it was him. now, you see that darkness every single night as he tries to entrance you with it.

“why are you doing this?” you ask, once again failing to break free.

“i want you to accept me, to accept yourself,” he sighs out, fingers tracing the side of your face. “for you to accept your darkness.”

you shake your head. “no. no. this is just a dream. you’re not real.”

he huffs out a laugh, crouching down so the two of you are face to face. “not real? not real?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that it’ll make this all go away. but even with your eyes closed, you can still feel his presence, the way it washes over you in warm waves that… comfort you. you hate that you love it. you hate that you’re comforted by this, and you hate that you want him, and you need that hate to be real if nothing else, so you say it out loud.

“good. use it.” you can feel his breath against your cheek, the way he’s touching you in a way that, under other circumstances, you’d be begging for more. “break free. take my weapon. kill me.”

you shake your head again, this time in disbelief as opposed to disagreement. “is this who you really are?”

“why don’t you find out?” his lightsaber ignites, dousing you both in blazing red light.

you wake up gasping, shooting upright when you realize that you’re no longer being held down. you nearly scream when you see qimir at the side of your bed.

“whoa—” he reaches for you. “hey, it’s okay, it’s just me.”

“what the hell are you doing in here?” you demand, seeing nothing but the stranger in your head when you look into his eyes.

“i-i heard you talking. i came to make sure you were okay. are you?” he asks. “okay?”

he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch your shoulder, and you flinch.

“i, um— no. no.” you bunch your hands in the sheets, shifting away from him a little. “but i’ll be fine.”

he pauses, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he observes you. “what did you see?”

you nearly choke on your own heartbeat with the way it rapidly accelerates. “what?”

“it used to happen to me too.” is all he says, taking your hand before you can move away. “maybe i can help.”

the pressure of his hand around yours grounds you, even as you fear his reaction. “i saw you.”

he blinks. “me?”

you nod slowly. “but you were… different. you were still. and… there was a darkness in you that you wanted me to have, too. i was scared, but…”

“but what?” he moves closer, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing his leg against yours.

you lower your gaze, too ashamed to look at him. “but it was… nice, i guess. having you… be there, like that. and it felt so real that it made me start to wonder if it was. if that’s who you really are.”

“what if it was?”

you expect yourself to scream, to push him away, to do exactly as he instructed in your dream by finding his weapon and killing him before running, but you don’t. instead, you remember the comfort of his presence. that despite your fear, there was a part of you that wanted to listen.

qimir squeezes your hand; tilts your chin up to face him. and you watch as the mask slips, right before your eyes, and your dreams really do become reality. his stillness seeps into you, and the two of you are frozen as you stare at each other.

“was that really you?” you ask quietly.

“yes.” he brushes your hair out of your face, the action so tender even as he’s confessing that he’s probably the most dangerous being you’ve ever met.

you can’t help the way you lean into his touch, almost wishing he’d touch you more, like he does in your dreams. slowly, he moves closer, as if approaching a wild animal. you surprise both him and yourself by falling into his embrace.

“you said you had these dreams too. who did you see?” your voice is muffled by the material of his top.

he hesitates; you feel it in the way his breath hitches. “well… you.”

your eyes widen, but you don’t move.

it appears that both of you walk around wearing masks.

happy the acolyte finale day, i can’t believe it’s over 😫 i hope everyone enjoyed the ep! we may have seen the last of qimir on our screens for a while, but his appearances on my account are only just beginning 🤞🏼 this in particular might turn into something bigger, idk!!

m.list

© spiritsdiary 2024. do not repost without permission.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Pillow Talks

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: Your master has sent you on a mission and Qimir, your supplier and guide, is accompanying you.

Qimir Masterlist

Your Master has tasked you with the mission of finding and killing a former Jedi that had previously wronged him. Per usual, he also assigned Qimir to be your guide and supplier, should you need him.

Although you were perfectly capable of doing things on your own, you had to admit it was nice to have company. For a long time, it had always just been you and your Master. Then when you were finally ready for your first mission, Qimir was assigned to you.

At first, you were annoyed, but then grew fond of the man. Sure, he can be a bumbling, fumbling idiot, but he’s also very knowledgeable, skilled, and can hold his own.

However, this particular mission, you’ve grown somewhat annoyed with him. Your search for the former Jedi led you to jungle planet of Eriaduan. The weather is hot and humid, causing you to sweat and feel sticky. It’s dampened your mood and motivation to fulfill this mission.

Doesn’t help that Qimir is being extra chatty as you trek through the jungle, “Can I ask you a question?” Some of his black strands of hair stick to his face due to sweat and humidity.

You sigh, “As long as you’re okay with possibly not getting an answer.” You reply as you step over branches and through shrubs.

“Why are you so adamant that your Master doesn’t care for you?”

Earlier, you tripped on a boulder and Qimir told you that you need to be more careful, “Your Master wouldn’t be happy with me if I brought you back injured.”

You had scoffed and told him, “Please, my Master doesn’t care about me, Qimir. Only cares about my ability to fulfill these missions.”

You shrug, “Because he doesn’t.”

“How do you know?” He asks with furrowed brows.

“The way he’s treated me isn’t how people treat those they care about, Qimir. He’s very…forceful. He never gives me a break, asks how I’m feeling. Honestly, it’s foolish of me to even want him to care about me, even just a little.” You pause at a fallen tree trunk and decide to sit for a little rest.

Qimir follows, sitting beside you, “It’s not foolish to want to be cared for. Besides, he always sends me to go with you. Surely, that must mean he cares for you right? Wants someone to have your back?”

You snort, “Or because he doesn’t trust me to do these things on my own.”

Qimir sighs and shakes his head, “I’m sure he knows you’re capable of doing this on your own. But…maybe he just wants you to have back up just to ease his mind?”

You shrug, “Guess we’ll never know because he doesn’t really talk to me unless he’s assigning me a new mission or berating me about not improving my skills.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do care about you. Knowing you has brought some…excitement back into my life.”

You give him a grateful grin, “Thanks, Qi. I care about you too.” You two sit in a comfortable silence, catching your breaths and taking pause to finding this Jedi.

_______________

This definitely wasn’t how you expected things to go. You’d gotten injured during your fight with the Jedi. You were still able to kill him but not before get stabbed you in the side.

Qimir was freaking out, trying his best to keep you from bleeding out too much but you eventually succumbed to the pain, blacking out as Qimir pleaded with you to hold on.

When you finally wake up, you’re groggy. Your hand goes to your wound and you feel a bacta patch on it.

“You’re awake,” you hear the modulated voice of your Master.

You turn your head to see your Master standing at the end of your bed roll.

You try to sit up but you hiss in pain, “Don’t move. Lay still.” He approaches your side and kneels, he pulls back the bacta patch, “It needs to be changed.”

He grabs a new patch from the small pile beside your bed. Has he been taking care of you while you were out? Surely not, right? Had to be someone else. Maybe Qimir?

“Where’s Qimir?” You ask and your Master stills.

“I sent him away after he brought you here.”

“I hope you didn’t threaten or hurt him," you give your Master a threatening glare.

He questioningly tilts his head to you , “Why?”

“Because he’s my friend and I care about him.”

He stays silent for a few seconds before stating, “He left unscathed.”

“Good.”

Your Master cleans your wound and dresses it with a new bacta patch. It was weird, having him care for you in such a way. Usually when you got hurt or injured, you took care of yourself.

“You need to be more careful," he practically whispers.

“The former Jedi was a lot more skilled than I anticipated, but I fulfilled my mission.” The sentence comes off as factual, unfeeling.

“You got hurt.”

“It’s nothing new,” you say nonchalantly with a little shrug.

Your Master’s clenches his fists, “You need to be more careful,” he repeats.

"I'm fine. I'll do better. I know I'm not useful to you when I'm hurt."

"That's not why I want you to be careful," he says before standing and exiting the hut you made as your home on the secluded island.

_______________________

On your next mission, your Master has sent you to go undercover as a merchant on the planet of Batuu. Qimir, per usual, will be aiding you on the mission. You meet him at a cantina where an RX pilot droid was reprogrammed to play music throughout the place.

It seems like Qimir had been waiting for you a long time since his body was swaying, seemingly five drinks in already.

You sit on the stool beside him, causing him to turn to you and he gives you a drunken smile, "Heeeey! You're here!" he hiccups a bit and you can't help but chuckle, "How're you already this drunk?"

He shrugs, "Had to do something while I waited for you." He offers his cup to you and you push it back towards him, "I'm good," you say.

He shrugs again and downs the rest of the drink, "So, what's the plan?" A strand of his hair falls onto his face.

You giggle, moving the strand away, "I don't think we should discuss plans while you're in this state," your fingers linger on his face. Suddenly realizing what you did, you pull your hand away and clear your throat, "Um, we should discuss plans tomorrow while you're sober. So, drink some water and I'll meet you in the morning," you stand to leave but Qimir stops you.

"Wait, wait. Can I stay with you?" You look at him confused and he continues, "I, uh, lost my ship so I had to hitch a ride here. Don't have much credits left."

You give him a cocked brow and a hand on your hip, "And how did you expect to pay for your bar tab?"

He gives you a sheepish look, "I was kinda hoping you'd pay for it?"

You sigh, pulling out enough to pay for Qimir's drinks. The bartender thanks you and you have Qimir follow you out of the cantina.

"You're lucky I like you," you murmur, a hint of a smirk on your lips.

Qimir gulps and nods, "Yeah...lucky."

You two make it to the dingy hotel where you plan to stay for the next few days. As soon as Qimir enters, he plops onto your bed with a content sigh. Looking at him and then the room, you now realize that there's only one bed, which means you have to share.

It'll be fine. You can be professional about this situation.

You clear your throat, grabbing Qimir's attention, "So there's only one bed-"

Qimir immediately sits up, "I can sleep on the floor-"

"It's fine, Qi. We can be mature adults about this. We're not strangers or anything."

He gives you nonchalant shrug, "If you're sure."

You nod and head to the refresher to change. When you come back out, Qimir is already under the covers, having shed some of his outer robes.

You can't help the snort you let out when you see how close to the edge of the bed he is.

You slip under the covers, "Qimir, you're hanging off the edge, come closer. It's fine."

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or-"

You use the Force to pull him closer.

He rolls over to face you, "Uncalled for."

You roll onto your side to face him, "You were being stubborn."

You two stare at each other, letting some moments of silence pass. The air shifts but you're not sure if it's just you that feels so. You feel a pull, a need to lean in and press your lips to Qimir. You've always found him attractive, but have pushed those thoughts down because you know you can't have him. Your priority is your training and your loyalty is first and foremost to your Master. Before you do anything drastic, you sigh, rolling over to face away, "Good night, Qimir."

"Good night," he murmurs. You hear the rustle of the sheets as he gets comfortable.

You close your eyes, trying to push away the feelings that began to bubble up in your chest and stomach.

"Do you still think your Master doesn't care for you?"

Your eyes shoot open and you immediately roll over, "Qimir...what?"

He sighs and rolls back over to face you, "Do you still think that your Master doesn't care about you?"

You shrug, "Kinda."

"Kinda?" he looks at you with creased brows and a frown.

You shrug and move your attention to a loose thread on the pillow Qimir lays on, "After the last mission, he said he immediately sent you away?"

"...yes."

You turn to lay on your back and look at the ceiling, "I guess the entire time I was out, he was taking care of me. When I woke up, he changed my bacta patch. He told me I had to be more careful." You pause to recollect more of that day, "I figured this was all because I wouldn't be useful to him, but then he said that wasn't why."

"So he does care," Qimir simply states

"I'm still apprehensive about saying that with certainty, but the small gesture appears that way."

You glance at Qimir as he moves to mimic your position, "And how does that make you feel?"

You run your hands down your face and you give a deep breath, "It's nice to be cared for and to care for someone. But...it's scary. Doing the things we do, you never know when someone can take that away from you. Or if that someone takes advantage of that care and betrays you."

You suddenly feel Qimir's hand take hold of yours, "I understand," he murmurs, "Your Master is still a person too. Maybe he struggles with the idea of caring for someone because it's been so long since he's done so."

"Maybe," you reply, not pulling your hand from Qimir's. It felt nice, having his hand in yours.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"...can I hold you?"

You turn your head, looking at Qimir, you can see he's slightly embarrassed, but he's also being vulnerable...and you're feeling a little vulnerable too.

"Okay," you whisper and you move closer as Qimir wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him.

You let out a shaky breath. It's been so long since you've been held like this, cared for in such a gentle way. It's a complete opposite of how you've spent your time training under your Master.

You hope you can have more moments like these with Qimir.

Your body feels more at ease the more time you spend in his arms. Your eyes slowly flutter close and you're off to a restful sleep.

Meanwhile, Qimir remains awake a little bit longer. He stares at you, his apprentice, his acolyte.

"I'll do better," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head and pulling you closer to him as he listens to your breathing, leading him to sleep.

[yandere-wishes]

Okay, okay, okay, I know I have my Yord x reader x Qimir asks to get to. BUT Hear me out!! Yandere Darth Plagueis x reader x Yandere Qimir... I'm not really sure what their relationship is/will be, but I can't help but want to be hunted by scary Sith lords 💞

[piratesfromspace]

Qimir x Reader imagine

(I'm having feeling for yet another Star wars bad guy) Rated explicit, gen!jedi!Reader

Imagine you're a jedi, strictly following the rules, always keeping to the text. No attachment. No partners. No intimacy. No lover. But in your dreams, each night, you see him. This man. Dark hair. Piercing gaze. High cheek bones. Stunning. He starts to haunt you, even when you're awake. In your dreams, he's neither a foe nor a friend. At first you have trouble figuring his face. But with every new night, he becomes more visible, more real.

You can see how strong he is, feel how sturdy he his when he brings you into his embrace. Just a hug. And then the next dream, he doesn't stop at that. His hands cradle your face, his lips touch yours, his thigh grounds itself between your legs. He makes you feel so impure, you're petty sure you're breaking some rules. But it's just in your dreams, isn't it? It doesn't really count, does it?

Each and every night, he comes visit you, and grows bolder. Until you give in to the fire in you that burns - and had been burning for days now. You let him undress you, let him touch you where no one had before, let him fuck you - with his fingers, his tongue, his dick. You even let him use the Force to hold you down, to lick sinfully against your most sensitive places. You're a jedi, you keep repeating it to yourself, but the words start to ring false. You're a jedi. Well, until you found out what you were missing. Truth is, you're no jedi anymore, are you?

[yourimagines]

Hello there 😉

Could you write some more Star Wars related fanfics. I love them 😍

General Kenobi 😉

Secret

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Swearing, Angst and Sadness

Y/n POV

It was late in the evening and I promised Yord to meet him in the Jedi garden, to hang out there alone. “Hey.” He whispered as I sneaked through the garden. “Hi.” I whispered back as I saw him standing up from the ground. “Nobody saw you?” I shook my head. “No, you?” He shook his head and smiled at me. “I missed you.” He closed the gap between us and carefully wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “I missed you too.” I laid my hands down on his chest and looked up at him. “You are so beautiful.” His hand traveled up to my right cheek, carefully caressing my skin. “Yord….” I shyly smiled at him. “Let’s walk further down the garden, I made a little something for you.” He said with excitement in his eyes. “Okay, lead me the way.”

He guided us quietly through the Jedi garden to a blanket filled with some snacks and flowers. “Yord.” I gasped quietly as I clasped my hands in front of my mouth. “You like it? I know it’s not much but this is the best I could do.” He gently pulled me down with him, to sit down on the blanket. “I love it.” He had all the good stuff, the best snacks and drinks. “Good, I don’t like to see you upset.” He grabbed a few drinks and gave me one. “Thank you.” “No problem.”

We had a wonderful time, just us alone under the stars. “Do you think there is life on that star?” I pointed up at the sky, to one of the stars. “Yes, life is everywhere.” We were lying down on our backs, looking at the night sky, enjoying each other’s embrace. “Really? I don’t think so.” He hummed and stared at the sky. His fingers brushed against my arm as my head lay against his chest. His chest moved slowly up and down as I felt his heartbeat beating against my ear.

Yord POV

I was blocking my thoughts, afraid someone else might hear them. She was talking about the stars, how beautiful they are and wondering who lives there. “Would you leave if they found out.” It just slipped out of my mouth, she stopped talking and carefully looked up at me. “You mean giving up this life?” She looked unsure and a little bit afraid. “I didn’t mean to ask you this question, It just slipped.” I was trying to dismiss this topic but she wasn’t going to. “I would leave….” Her voice trailed off and my heart dropped.

“Leaving the Jedi, y/n you sure?” I slightly moved onto my side to look her into her eyes. “I’m sure, if they find out and they will Yord, I would leave this to be with you….I-I love you.” I felt a lot of emotions going through my mind right now. “It’s okay if you wouldn’t do it, it’s my decision.” Her fingers slightly brushed over my face as she was trying to read me. “I love you as well but I cannot leave the Jedi order.” My heart felt heavy as I saw the sadness in her eyes. “I understand.” Her under lip quivered a little bit as she was trying not to cry. “Darling….” She shook her head, not wanting me to feel bad. “Just hold me.” She nestled her head against my chest and I immediately wrapped my arms around her, shielding her from everything. “I’m so sorry.” I whispered against her head as I placed a soft kiss on her temple.

[interloved]

current status? just thinking about dark!qimir.

description box: just a little drabble about qimir from The Acolyte

warnings: nsfw warning, smut under the cut!, slightly toxic/possessive behaviour, dark!qimir thoughts, semi modern setting, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

dark!qimir whose favourite position is to have you bent over in front of a mirror, one hand gripping into the soft and tender flesh of your hip, steadying you whilst his other arm wraps around your neck because he knows how feral you go for his arm muscles. he loves how you squeeze around him just a bit tighter, how your breathing becomes just a bit more irregular and how your cheeks tint in a slightly deeper shade of pink. he thinks you look angelic like this, this is, in his opinion, you in your loveliest form—splayed out beneath him, defenceless and helpless, as his fingers assault your cunt and he thrusts into you so deeply you’re sure he’s rearranged your insides.

dark!qimir who just can’t resist his primal urge to leave marks on you everywhere, everywhere for everyone to see. he needs everybody to know you’re his, that nobody else can have you. he brands you by leaving dark bruises on your neck, tits, thighs, everywhere you’ll let him mark you. he just can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you so much he needs to make sure no one even gets the idea to pursue you. of course, when somebody does have the stupid thought of trying to rip you away from qimir, he will neutralise them.

dark!qimir who loves hair gripping. whether you do it when he’s latching onto you or whether it’s when he drags your head back. one of his favourite memories is you, looking up at him, all doll-eyed and cheeks hollowed as your head is bobbing up and down, his hand resting on your head while you suck him off lovingly.

dark!qimir whose favourite pleasure to see is overstimulating you, pushing you to your very limits, ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you, regardless of your whining and pleading. you’re his good girl after all, aren’t you? just one more, darling. just one more. you can do that for him, can’t you?

dark!qimir who fucks you anywhere you’ll let him. he likes glancing at the kitchen counter, knowing it’s where he ate you out a week ago, or when he looks at your book shelf, knowing this is where he’d had you rough and raw just the night before, hands almost printed on your ass, legs in the air and wrapped around his waist as his arms lifted your weight as he fucked you against it.

dark!qimir who is strangely possessive about you for a man who claims he doesn’t care about you, especially about men. if you’re laughing with an old friend from your childhood and place your hand on that friend’s arm while you’re laughing at some joke of his, best believe he’ll have you jerking him off with that hand the whole night.

dark!qimir who likes seeing you wearing his shirts, shirts that are too big for you. he enjoys seeing the soft curve of your perky breasts slightly peaking through the fabric, likes seeing you fumble around awkwardly at the ends of his shirt, trying to pull them down a little bit more. trying to cover up how naked and exposed you look in nothing but his shirt.

dark!qimir who likes pushing you around during sex. who likes thrusting into you from the back just to turn you around in the middle of it and crash his lips onto yours as he pushes into you brutally.

dark!qimir who is anything but soft with you, but sometimes whispers the most intimate but also dirtiest words to you, lips brushing against your ear softly, to coax another orgasm out of you.

dark!qimir who, despite is cold and rough personality, can be so seductively charming and romantic it feels like he hates and loves you when he has his way with you. who, when he lovingly snaps and pushes his hips into yours, you’ll let him have his way with you, if it means having your brains fucked out so good it’ll feel like you’ve taken a drug.

dark! qimir who will ruin you for any other man you may have after him. if they shall live long enough to have the pleasure of having you.