#would i go through saber for you………..

[banqanas]

Shindai ryoga oniisama……. a serious and uptight guy but is also an oniisan baka who loves his little sister enough to wear a cheongsam to save her…. Has his own pathetic fail man moments…. The gap moe is too delicious…… 😇🙏 and i think that oniisama is a finely aged ossan 👀🙏😇 he has all the hiromi vibes but better..!!!! (Him being an older brother and older are big plus points for me personally)

I wanna watch the sabela/durendal spin off but im not sure if it requires any knowledge from the og series hmm 🤔

[kiwikipedia]

I genuinely think that Guda could survive in the SW universe but Anakin would not be able to handle any of the shit that happened in Fgo

[weixuldo]

Baby Fever

Anakin x f!reader

This is based off of number 2 of this list :)- I havent really delved into kink writing s sorry if this isnt the best haha- think of the reader as a padme- type figure

After seeing you interact with a lost child- Anakin thinks it’s time you had your own baby to look after…

warnings: P in V, smex, ani has a mean breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mentiond of pregnancy

________________

Floods of invigorating politicians and citizens exited the large Coruscant city center after a successful senate meeting. You had just finished pitching a plan that would excel the economy while also protecting labor’s rights. 

You smiled as you stood from your podium once the majority of the crowds had exited- the whole public eye thing was a bit new to you. 

For the longest time you worked behind the scenes helping other politicians with similar goals; it wasn’t until a few months ago that you, yourself, were appointed as your district’s senator. 

You fixed your dress as you exited your booth and headed for the dimly lit corridors of the massive building. Most of the clamor had moved outside into the city square so the halls were mostly empty. 

As you turned the corner a small smile found its way onto your face once you saw a familiar figure leaning against a marble pillar. Unmistakable robes and lightsaber clipped to the man’s belt. 

“I wasn’t aware Jedi had any interest in politics” you said with a smirk as the man snaked a gloved arm around you before you could pass. 

He pressed his face into your hair as he hugged you tighter to his chest, “We don’t, but you know all of my interest belongs to you”. 

You sighed as he pressed a passionate kiss to the column of your neck. 

“Ani- not here” you almost whimpered. 

He quickly twirled you around to face him before holding your face in his hands, “why not?” he asked with a charming smirk- “we should let them all know”. 

He glanced out the large windows down at the crowds of excited civilians- from up here they looked no larger than ants running for a sugar jar. 

“They all love you, so why can’t I?” Anakin asked with a pout. 

You sweetly smiled before placing a tender kiss to his pretty lips, “you can, and you do- you know the ramifications Anakin, you know we ca-“. 

Anakin cut you off with another deep kiss before releasing you and playfully slapping your ass. 

“Yeah yeah, I know” he huffed, “but they don’t know that”. 

You rolled your eyes at your lover’s childish desires before leading him out of the building. 

To avoid the spotlight and attention of the crowds, you dawned a hooded cloak before exiting the center.

Anakin followed closely behind; a hand already on his saber just in case. Thankfully being in public with Anakin seemed normal to some degree because you had become such a public figure- Jedi were often tasked with protecting political officials.

So Anakin looked no different than a routine bodyguard. 

The crowds were easier to navigate now that you had some practice under your belt. You had almost made it to your reserved speeder when you felt a small tug on the hem of your long dress. 

You smiled once you realized the tugging was coming from a small child, probably no older than four. 

She looked up at you with wonder as she mustered up the courage to speak to you. 

“Senator?” She finally asked. 

You nodded with a smile before turning to her. A wide grin settled onto her small face as she looked you up and down. 

“Pretty” she giggled. 

Anakin stood a few feet behind you, trying to see what was going on over the people standing in the way- he became anxious when you dipped from view.

The Jedi quickly weaved through the remaining people to see you crouched down speaking to a small child. His expression immediately softened as he watched you interact so sweetly with the girl; making exaggerated faces at the child’s comments, pointing out her cute accessories to make her giggle, picking her up to shield her from oncoming pedestrians-

Anakin never really thought about having kids- of course he wanted them someday; he wanted to create life with you and wanted to raise his children with a childhood he never got to have. But it never seemed like the right time.

The two of you had been careful when engaging in those activities to avoid an unexpected surprise when you still hadn’t quite figured out how to navigate your secret relationship. 

But each time Anakin fucked you he got closer and closer to giving up on the unspoken rule; he got closer and closer to cumming deep inside of you without any intention of pulling out. 

You knew Anakin was a passionate lover but you never considered that your sweet, respectful Jedi lover fantasized about locking you into a mating press while he fucked his children into your fertile womb. 

Anakin had no timeline of when he wanted them, but he knew you’d make a great mother no matter how long (or short) he waited.

Though seeing you interact in real time just made him want the fantasy to spring to reality. 

_________

“Hello sweetie, where are your parents?” You cooed at the small girl in your arms. 

She giggled and shrugged, making you frown. 

“Well that’s not good, they’re probably worried about you” you said, scanning the crowd for anyone who held any semblance to the tiny child in your arms. 

She, on the other hand, had no interest in finding her guardians- instead she was focused on the shiny tinsel that had been put into your hair prior to your speech. Innocently, she flipped your hood off and began to touch your face as she admired your beauty in childlike wonder. 

Before you could react, Anakin was by your side; he gently placed the cloak back over your head to protect you from interested onlookers. 

“Ani! You came out of nowhere” you giggled lightheartedly as he guided you off to the side of the still buzzing city square. 

“Who’s this?” He asked with a smile as the little girl in your arms hid her face in your shoulder. 

“It’s ok baby, he’s a Jedi- he’s very strong and he’s here to protect us” you whispered to the little girl in your arms. 

“Jedi?” her green eyes brightened as she became excited at the title. 

She continued asking you questions but all Anakin could focus on was how beautiful you looked interacting with such a young child. How natural you looked. 

Is this how you would interact with your own children? With his children?

He couldn't help but adjust his pants as he felt them becoming increasingly tighter. 

Soon the overexcited child had fallen asleep in your comforting arms; shortly, you began cautiously walking around in hopes to find her parents. The jedi beside you watched as you subconsciously brushed the girl's hair and gently bounced her on your hip. 

Before long you finally stumbled across two very worried adults calling for who you could only assume was fast asleep in your arms. 

“Oh Maker! There she is!” the woman gasped as she reached for her baby. 

The Man she was with breathed out a sigh of relief and quickly joined her as you handed her the sleeping child. 

“Thank you so mu- Senator!” the man’s eyes widened once he realized who it was. 

“We are so sorry to have troubled you- please forgive us for our carelessness” the woman bowed. 

“No, no! It was no trouble at all- you have a beautiful daughter” you smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair away from the girl’s face. 

“Thank you, thank you so much. We loved your speech- you are just what this city needs” the mother offered before turning to her husband. 

You bowed and met the silent figure watching from the sidelines; “Sorry Ani, we can go now”. 

Anakin just nodded silently and trailed you with an uncharacteristically dazed aura. 

Once you were in your speeder, Anakin hopped in the driver’s seat and jetted off towards your apartment; his strong jaw clenched as he imagined you full with a child.

He flinched as you placed a tender hand on his tensed thigh, “Ani- are you alright?”.

________________________

A cacophony of moans and groans ricocheted off of the walls of your penthouse bedroom as your lover continuously plunged his cock in and out of your abused hole. He had been at it for two hours already and had already cum once (while you came thrice). 

Once you entered your private apartment, all of his carefully crafted will-power snapped and he went feral; the natural urge to breed you, hit him like a bus.

He was all over you; your lips, neck, breasts, cunt- you were his and he was going to make damn sure it stayed that way. 

“A-Ani! S-slow down!” you cried as he jetted his thick cock in and out of you. 

“S-Sorry baby, C-can’t- I gotta- gotta fill you up” he winced as he fucked you through his own overstimulation. 

His heavy balls slapped against your ass and a ring of foam from your combined juices formed at the base of his cock. 

He already came inside of you once, what more could he want?

“Baby- t’s too much! You're-spilling all over”.

“N-no, not enough- gotta fuck a baby into you” he grunted against your bruised neck. 

His confession had your eyes snapping open, “What?!”. 

“Looked too damn good with that baby on your hip- I-I wanna see you with my child on your hip in-instead” he babbled as he pulled you flush against his chest and rutted his desperate hips into yours. 

So that's what this was all about. 

Admittedly you didn’t mind his desires, deep down you wanted the same thing… you wanted him to reach so deep that he fucked one into you on the spot. 

“Oh Fuck Ani- I wan- I want your kids” you admitted ad you raked your long nails down his toned back. 

“Shit babe- squeezing me so tight” he whined as he gripped onto your hips with a caging grasp (surely you would be bruised tomorrow). 

He slammed his hips flush against yours with intense force as he felt the coil in his stomach begin to snap- this was it, this was the orgasm that was going to give you a child. 

He just knew it. 

“Ahh c-cumming! Gonna give y-you a child- Shit! i-i ‘m going to fuck my baby into you” he babbled as he felt his hot, thick, warm seed shoot out of his oversensitive tip into your gushing cunt as your own orgasm washed over your like a crest-fallen wave. 

“Ani!” you cried as your legs began to shake from the overpowering climax mixed with your exhaustion. 

You clawed onto him so hard that you swore you drew blood. Anakin, on the other hand, dove down and captured you into a tight embrace; his mechanical hand making you gasp at the sudden coolness. 

His body shook with pleasure and overstimulation as he struggled to rut his hips into you to push the last bit of spend further into you with shaky breaths. 

Once you came down from your high, you were so tired that you couldn’t even bother to ask Anakin to clean you up; you half expected him to fall asleep inside of you based on how tired he also looked. 

“Gonna make you a mommy- you’ll look s-so good- so round with our child” Anakin mumbled into your neck before slowly turning over so that you were on top of him (his dick still inside). 

You hummed in contempt before drifting to sleep as he gently brushed your hair with hsi flesh hand. 

“The two of you should get some sleep now- I love you” Anakin whispered before drifting right after you. 

You would have giggled at Anakin’s addition of “two” when speaking to you and your hypothetical baby, but as usual your lover was right. 

The famed “Jedi perception” was affirmed 9 months later when you cradled not one, but two small bundles of joy. You sat on your couch as you fed your children and Anakin couldn't help but smirk at the scene before him, this is just what he wanted… he couldn’t wait till you could have another one. 

***

(a/n: ngl im not crazy big on kids but breeding is hot 🤭🤭 hope this lived up to the idea on the list :0)

[inklore]

does it feel good?

— qimir x f!reader

premise: he is your beginning, the whole reason you have made peace with the darkness inside your head, and you know someday he may become your end. whether by his saber or by him finally consuming completely. you welcome both.

contents: established master x acolyte dynamics, shared force bond, unprotected p in v, foreplay, light choking, biting, scars and burn marks mentioned, death, teasing, over stimulation | wc: 2.7k+

note: i love that we all saw the water scene and went yeah that's for the smut writers. glad we are collectively going insane over this man.

The moons paint the water in a shimmering light that bathes its surface in sapphire that fades to the deepest of blacks the longer you stare into it. The waves that hit against the ragged stones are like a siren call to your aching body. 

Your muscles are still tight and coiled from earlier. Your molars grind together when you lift your arms to pull off your ruined and stained clothes. A burning sensation felt through your body as the fabric covering your torso moved against every burn, cut, and bruise you had acquired tonight. 

You didn’t stop by a reflective surface to check how many battle scars you’d earned. Badges of honor. More wounds worn like metals placed on your neck by a pleased master. Wounds, he’ll help you heal, stitch up, seal with the press of his palm to the tattered skin—stolen supplies from planets you can’t remember the name of with faces you can only remember the dead eyes of, used on the ones that don’t close up right.

The moonlight makes them look less serious. The illumination colored the dried blood and tissue into something misty. Almost tantalizing to the eye. Unlike the light of day, where you’re sure it will look less glamorizing. The ugly truth of the way your skin is going to bubble up and mold over to protect itself once the healing process begins is less glaring in this hue. 

Your toe dips into the water. It’s always warmer than you think it to be. Always welcoming you in like it’s been waiting for you to return. Waiting to wash away the grim and blood that seemed more permanent on your skin than your own flesh. 

You wade at the edge for a bit, pushing around the water with your feet. The water wading at your ankles. 

The ringing hasn’t stopped. 

It rarely does until you’ve closed your eyes and settled it. Until your body is less taut, muscles released from the on switch of fight. The power inside your veins thrumming like a wasp trying to free itself from the tissue of your bones. 

As if it had gotten stuck in there and couldn’t find its way out. Refusing to settle down or leave until you’ve maimed, avenged, and proved yourself—leaving your body and muscles in their current state. 

You’re not worried about something being in the water. If there were, you would have been able to feel it. Sense it’s beating heart and the danger of allowing it to keep beating. You’re alone as you walk further into the water, sinking into it’s depths until your body is completely engulfed. Your neck and head the only things going untouched. 

The freshly made badges on your skin burn when you scrub your thumb along the edges of them. Specks of dried blood float along the surface of the water before they’re lost to the darkness below. 

Amongst the ringing in your head, you can hear the screams of anger that tore from your lungs when the Jedi had gotten the upper hand. The green of his saber leaving red against your skin. Making your moves turn from confident to something rage fueled. 

Somewhere among the ringing, you know his scream is in there. Amongst the many cries for help and cracking bones. 

They always linger. Always hold on like a power pack to your dark side. 

You know your body won’t fully relax until you’ve stopped the ringing, though. You didn’t believe in blessings or curses. Bad fortune or good. Everyone’s life ended the same way. If you did believe in the farce, you would think the ringing that goes from the base of your skull to the drums of your ears was a curse. 

A quiet mind is a blessing. 

The buzz of the force within you too heady when you're in the throes of battle. War. Darkness. It’s always been like that. Even before him. 

It’s only gotten worse with him beside you. Like the bond the two of you had opened too much too deep and you feel everything more clearly. More unfortunately. 

He taught you how to silence it. To reign it in after the adrenaline and pace of your heart slowed. 

There were still things you had to learn. Things you were kept from knowing by your old master, the one who only saw one way to wield your power. A cowardly excuse for a master whose burial you wish you could have witnessed. 

It’s aggravating, almost. Anger inducing for sure. 

Someone not believing you are capable of knowing the truth about the power you wield. It’s criminal to not allow someone to be their true self all because of a set of rules that only benefited one group of people. One way of living, when there were so many. 

Your aggravation has faded by now. The anger is still there and buzzes through you. But you no longer feel like a part of you has been held back. Stunted and aching like your chest had for years—as if a rock had found itself in the base of your heart and took up rent there—until Qimir showed you the way. 

Your true self. 

Your full potential and all you were capable of. 

All that had been inside of you, held back for so long. 

Filling your lungs with air, you sink yourself under the water and hold yourself there. Eyes closing as you center yourself. Slow the wasp in your marrow to something dull. Stop the ringing in your ears until all you can hear is the hum of the water hitting the rock above the surface. 

Just you and the force. 

Just you and the water. 

Until you feel him. 

Until he’s there inside your mind.

Until you feel a hand at the base of your skull, fingertips brushing at the nape of your neck to let you know he’s not just in your head. He’s beside you.

Your eyes meet once you’ve filled your lungs with air again, and you wipe the water droplets from your lids. 

You watch him splash water against his neck, running the palm of his hand along the dirt and grime that clings to his skin. Cleaning himself of any traces of the deaths the two of you have left in your wake tonight. 

His calm demeanor always pulls you back from the edge. Always brings a calmness to your blood. To the beating of your heart. Even when shit has gone haywire, his demeanor never switches up. Never slips into something that could be labeled as sloppy or driven by anything other than who he truly is. What he’s made of. 

His calm seeping through your shared bond until you have no choice but to relax.

The handful of times you’ve seen that calmness turn into something animalistic, it’s made you envious, on the same hand, it’s made the space between your thighs burn. 

“You did well tonight.” 

“The smell of my burning flesh still clinging to my senses says differently.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, “you did well.” He repeats. Ducks his head forward to wet his hair. His fingers running through the strands, droplets falling down his face. Your eyes follow them all the way down the column of his neck to his chiseled collar bones. 

It doesn’t take one wielding the force to know what your mind is projecting. Doesn’t matter that the two of you share a part of your brain. The thoughts of past nights spent together, Qimir teaching you the ways desire can be wielded and used to your advantage—or disadvantage, depending on how you look at it. 

Your face turns from him. Eyes moving up to the moon. 

Trying to hold back your thoughts the way he taught you. Even if it is futile against him.

“How do you feel?” 

Has the ringing stopped, Is what he’s really asking. Do you need another lesson? Are you still weakened by that ailment? That curse? 

Except he wouldn’t be as dramatic as that. Not with this. Not ever. Especially when it came to your power. Your capabilities. The perfect little acolyte he’s trained you to be. 

“Fine.” Your answer clipped, honest. Because you are fine, and your stubbornness will not allow you to let this turn into another lesson about you not being able to be as calm and collected as he is. No shadows of doubt lingering over who he truly is. His purpose. His wants. His desires. His darkness. 

He’s always been able to read right through you, though. Even without taking up space in your being. The force has little to do with that fact. 

You were never afraid of the darkness that lived inside of you. Never afraid of the power you could wield and the lives you could take. 

The only time you’ve felt true fear is being seen. 

Accepted. 

The potential to let someone of importance down and not withhold your end of a deal you’ve inked your name in blood just to be beside. To prove yourself to someone who’s your equal. Another half of your very being.

His face shows nothing but that calm amusement when he wades behind you. His fingers moving against your skin in an act to rid you of the spots of dirt you’ve missed on your neck and shoulders. 

Swallowing hard when his fingers scrape against past scars, he lingers there for a beat. Running the pad of them against the raised skin. A whisper in your head. 

You heal beautifully.

It’s a softness you’d never thought him to be capable of when you found out who he truly was. The man behind the mask. Even if the unmasking had been done unintentionally. 

It’s not softness you feel from his touch, though. No, his touch eases the strain in your muscles, only to gather itself in your belly. Your body burning with anticipation, knowing how this goes. 

How you’re rewarded when you impress him. 

When you do as you are told, your master is ever the generous one. 

“You’ve proven yourself tonight.” His lips brush against the tip of your spine, “killing without a weapon, not stopping until you were the last one standing. Freeing yourself from the ones who held you back for so long.” Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his mouth presses down on that same spot at the beginning of your spine. 

A hand snaking around your throat, his palm wet and warm against your collarbones as he pulls your neck at just the right angle to have you looking at him. 

“Did it feel good?” 

“Yes.” You swallow, wrap your fingers around his wrist. “It always does.” You whisper, your eyes flashing down to the upturn of his lips. 

His nose runs along your cheek to your temple, his eyes closed, inhaling you. “I can always smell it. When you let yourself become one with the darkness. Right before you take a life.” His thumb runs a circle against the vein, which tells him the pace of your heart has picked up. As if he’d need it to know, as if the two of you don’t share something that links you completely to the other. “It still lingers. It’s distracting.” 

It’s not a question, but you nod. Your eyes flutter when he pushes his hips forward, and the hardness of his cock moves against your ass. 

He doesn’t ask permission, the two of you knowing you’re past such kindnesses, when his hand cups your mound. He knows what your body needs right now. What it wants, what it’s expecting. He can feel it too. His index and middle fingers spread your pussy, giving him access to that pleasure point on your body that only he knows how to stroke just right to have you pliant and singing for him. 

As if you were not already devoted to him. As if he were not your reason for being.

He’s your beginning, and you have no doubt he will be your end if it comes to it. 

The pad of his finger circles your clit in that slow way that lets you know he’s going to take his time with you. Going to drain every last bit of strain and tightness from your muscles, pushing that buzz between your legs and making him the only sound in your head—until he thinks you have had enough. 

Until your reward is good enough for him to be satisfied with how you took it. Until he knows your mind is back where it needs to be—here, with him. 

His mouth meets the hand at your throat, his teeth sinking into the parts his fingers aren’t pressing into. “You’re everything I could have hoped for.” His tongue laps against your pulse.

Perfect.

You may never know if he actually means the words; you can only feel what he allows you to feel through your shared connection. He’s better at blocking than you. But he knows you need to hear these praises. Knows how good and pliable it will make you. His words stoke the fire inside your soul that burns through your darkness. That allows you to become completely consumed by him and the desire to be on this side. 

Of being free. 

What he does allow you to feel lets you know there is some truth somewhere in there. You can feel it in how hard his cock thrusts against your ass when your body pushes back into him. You can feel it in the way his thoughts stream through your mind. 

So obedient.

Your cunt’s so greedy for me.

You’re mine.

The skin on your fingers stings from gripping the rocks in front of you. The pain you should feel from the heel of your palm digging into the jagged stones, lost in the haze of pleasure consuming your body. 

Qimir consuming every last part of your being. 

Taking over every dark corner of your mind and not letting you feel or hear anything but him.

Your moans become more shaky, your chest heaving as you pant and curse. The weight of the finger on your clit grows heavier, faster, deliriously good the more you near your orgasm. 

Your lips are moving in inaudible words. Words he understands, making him grin against your jaw. 

“You want my cock tonight?” You know he’s read your mind, or rather, your body. Know he can feel what you desire and crave. What your minds begging him for. “Hmm, do you think you’re deserving of that big of a prize? You spill a little blood, and suddenly you’re greedy.” He hums, “you did well. Do you think you deserve it, though? No?” 

Heat burns your cheeks; his chuckle makes you sob into the night air. The stubbornness to please and be as perfect as your counterpart wants you to be is not in favor of the mounting pressure that’s building in your pussy right now. 

“I already think you’re perfect; don’t push it.” His foot pushes easily at your ankles. Your thighs spread enough for the head of his cock to press against your entrance and thrust inside. 

“Mmm,” you whine at the stretch. Your eyes fluttering closed at your swollen walls being filled. Walls that tighten around him as he sets a fast pace. Matching the rhythm and stroke of his fingers. Sending your body on an overwhelming precipice of a carnal need to come. 

The heaviness of his breath as he says your name against your skin—the quick flashes of the pleasure he feels from being inside of you—is what finally sends you over the edge. 

Your orgasm rocking through you like a storm. Your body shaking against him, walls fluttering and squeezing around his cock, making him groan. Your throat raw and scratchy from the noise that’s pulled up from your lungs when everything in your body is set completely aflame. 

Your hand falling from the rocks, and pressing your nails into his wrist, trying to pull his hand from between your thighs. The over-stimulation of his finger moving against your clit even after your orgasm has passed makes you cry out and ripple the water around the two of you as you squirm. 

The tip of his cock hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. That falters your fight against his torment. 

“You can do better than one. You deserve it, don’t you?”

[jingyi-ma-boi]

AU where Jin Guangyao actually manages to wake Nie Mingjue as a fierce corpse and he comes back just like Wen Ning had all those years ago, with his full consciousness intact, except for one detail —NMJ doesn’t try to kill him anymore.

On the contrary, he seems too intent on making amends for all of his attempts on JGY’s life. He wants JGY’s forgiveness more than anything. He wants his attention. He wants his praise. He wants his love.

And JGY is completely and absolutely torn, because he doesn’t know what to do with this.

At first, he relished in a sick sense of retaliation that warred with his own pain at having to kill the man he swore to protect by oath, the man he admired for so long and even seemed to care for him for some time.

When NMJ woke up as a corpse and went down on his knees, kowtowing before him and asking for his forgiveness, he panicked, thinking that Xue Yang and him had fucked up somehow. He was expecting fury. Angry blows aimed at him, tight fingers trying to ensnare his neck to break it. He did not imagine this.

When he realised nothing was wrong with him —quite the opposite, he retained all his speaking and logical-thinking skills from a time before Baxia’s spirit had poisoned him too much, and he had multiplied his strength tenfold— he felt relieved. It didn’t last long, though.

NMJ is determined to gain his favour, always striving to do whatever he asks him to, looking at JGY with an intensity that is unnerving now that he’s unable to properly emote what he’s thinking. He never thought he would miss Da-ge’s angry face, or his scowl (his smiles and laughs, rarer as they became with time, he did miss, but he only admitted that to himself) but at least then he could know what the man was thinking. Missing his stubbornness is something that surprises him as finds himself slightly weirded out by his easy disposal to do as JGY wishes.

That weird sensation only grows when he realises that the dead man closes his eyes and lengthens his neck in what seems to be his new expression for bliss every time he hands him out praise. Like a big contented cat. He’s even more weirded out when he catches himself giving it to him exactly for that reason.

And now, he has him looking at him dead in the eye, saying that he loves him. That although his heart is unable to beat anymore for him and his lungs incapable of loosing breath for a caressing word or the touch of his hand, he feels that way nevertheless.

And JGY is so fucking scared and sick to his stomach. Because this means that they fucked up indeed and that this is not his Da-ge, but a puppet with his face devoting itself to him out of a twisted sense of gratitude. He’s scared because he doesn’t want to think of the other possibility.

He doesn’t want to think that just like how his logical-thinking went back to what it had been before Baxia poisoned his mind, that all the other parts of him might’ve gone back to that state too. Because where would that leave them? How would that change everything that happened all those tears ago? He refuses to let that thought develop.

And yet, it takes root in his mind, growing as poison ivy to haunt him with the possibility of an alternative life. One where they never went to war and NMJ got to live his twenties healthier, and maybe, just maybe, where he got to love JGY in life as he is loving him in death.

Came back wrong this, came back monstrous that

What if they came back loving? What if they came back in love. What if the necromancy worked and you cheated death and it's everything you've ever wanted, but now they love you in a way they never did before and you cannot know if that is because they finally know the lengths you are willing to go for them, or because something in this deathless magic bound their soul to yours to guide them home and it left them no. choice.

[siempre-bucky]

what am i to you?

Qimir x Reader

Summary: You decide to leave Qimir, thinking your feelings are one-sided till an encounter with the Jedi Order proves otherwise.

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: she/her pronouns, mentions of blood

A/N: I hope you like it Anon <3! Requests are still open for Qimir!

“What am I to you, Qimir?” You asked him as you placed your hood over your head, your small bag placed at the side of you, “Whore? Helper? Companion? What other names do you use to describe me to your Acolytes?” 

“This is new for you, my dear,” he chuckled, amused as if you were a child trying to use big words. You were never the one to bite back, you would normally happily accept your role as his right hand. Not now, the years of trying to convince yourself he loved you had your patience growing thin.

“You don’t get to call me that, you seethed. “I’m leaving, Qimir. I can’t be here, knowing you don’t feel the same. I’ll never be more than whatever this is.” 

The Sith stayed silent after that, he merely watched as you accepted your defeat and picked up your things to disappear in the night. 

Tears fell as you walked through the forest, trying to expel memories of late night tangled in sheets and days of trips to the beaches of his favorite planet. He showed you all those wonderful things and touched you in a way you could only imagine, only for it to mean nothing. You wasted years on him. 

Something suddenly felt off, the hair on the back of your neck began to rise and the forest grew silent. Someone was there with you in the forest. A small smile tugged at your lips, he came back for you! You turned around and smiled at the figure that stood in the trees. About to tease him, the figure reached for his belt, a lightsaber igniting. Yellow? 

Before you had the chance to run, the Force knocked you to the ground roughtly. The figure grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. The man frowned “You’re the Force wielder?” he questioned. 

“N-no!” You cried, punching at his arm. 

“The Order keeps sending you to die,” a third voice entered the space, and you could recognize that distorted tone from anywhere. 

The Jedi swiftly turned the two of you to face the Sith standing a few feet away. Dressed in his helmet and cloak, Qimir watched as the Jedi released your hair and placed you in a chokehold with his free arm. The other turned off the saber and placed it on your temple, the heat of the metal making you cry out. 

This Jedi wasn’t like the rest of the ones the Order sent after Qimir, there was something in his eye that screamed rogue. “You either surrender,” the Jedi panted, tightening his grip on your throat and his saber pressing harder to your temple, “or I kill your… Acolyte? Is that what she is to you?” 

“Those are words of a Sith, Jedi, are you sure you’re not on the wrong side?” The Stranger spoke calmly, his voice distorted by his mask. He couldn’t see the fear in your eyes or how the Jedi was starting to bleed from you digging your nails into his forearms. 

You wish you could read him, be able to get inside his head, and know what he’s thinking one last time. Maybe he had some compassion for you because love was out of the question. He was here to kill you before you could get away. The Jedi pressed harder, the metal cutting into your skin. You screamed in pain and he laughed? Amused at what was going on. 

This was it. You heard his finger slide to the trigger. 

Qimir. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

If there’s an afterlife I wish for something kinder. 

You heard the ignition of a lightsaber, and in an instant the grip on your throat released. Then there was a thud, the crunch of leaves and snapping of twigs followed after. You fell to the floor and curled into a ball, heaving for air. Were you dead? Was this the afterlife you were just praying to the Maker for? “Get up,” the distorted voice commanded. You crawled a couple of inches and sat up, pushing your hair out of your face and looking behind you. 

Lying on the ground was the Jedi, a red lightsaber right through the center of his head. Your eyes widened and the last of the tears flowed from your eyes. You watched as Qimir called his saber back to his hand, a perfect circle left in its wake. He pulled you up by the shoulder and hurried you back towards the hideout. 

You walked hurriedly in silence, looking back at the deep forest every now and then to make sure you weren’t followed by anyone else. The Jedi Order had been desperate to capture him since the murder of that one Jedi on Udea. Qimir kept a tight grip on your wrist, you didn’t dare to pull away since he was the only thing keeping you alive. 

That silence remained when you got to the small cabin. He whipped off the mask and threw it violently into the corner. Your body stilled, wondering if you were in for a worse fate than with the Jedi. Qimir killed violently, he’d kill anyone. You were nothing special. Not to him.

He turned to you with fire raging in his eyes, they only softened slightly when he saw the blood trickling from your head, a few drops of crimson landing on your chest. He extended his hand, a small wooden box rushing towards him. He caught it effortlessly and sat on the makeshift bed. “Sit.” 

You did as you were told and took a seat by his side. He went to work bandaging your wound, but you noticed something. Why didn’t he just heal it using the Force? Why was he taking the time for something so futile for a Sith? You also noticed his fingers trembling as he picked up the small scissors among the supplies. He made it halfway to your head before he shakily dropped them into your lap, the fabric of your cloak delicately breaking the fall. Your hands connected as you both reached out to collect them. 

Qimir let go of the scissors and held your hand. “Are you ok?” he asked, all bite vacant in his tone.

“I think so,” you nodded. 

Silence filled the air, and you could feel his stare burn into your skin. He just went back to work, dabbing at the blood and cleaning your skin of dirt and blood. You nearly begged him to say something, anything to release you from the choking silence. 

After the job was done, Qimir stood and collected his supplies, putting everything away silently. Your gaze followed him, you had always wondered how he could act so calm in these situations, you almost admired it. Then he stood in the center of the room, his shoulders hunched and his gaze lingered on the ground, analyzing the cracks in the wood. 

“I didn’t know they we—”

“—I love you.” 

I love you. Those words sounded so foreign to him, he had spoken them once, before the Order and before they took him away. It had been so long—too long. He was embarrassed that it took that long to say to you. Qimir had learned his lesson.

You stood up, the wood creaking below you as you closed some distance between you. “Why tell me now? When I’m about to die at the hands of the Jedi.” 

“I should have told you a long time ago,” he jumped in, his hands flexing, “I heard your thoughts, your pleas. I’m sorry.”

You lifted your chin, “What am I to you, Qimir?” You asked him the same question as earlier, this time you had no fight left. 

The Sith raised his hand and connected it to the side of your face, “I think they would have called it a soulmate?” He pulled you in closer, “I should have never let you feel differently.” 

“Never do that again,” you said bitterly, jabbing your finger into his chest. 

He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting his eyes flutter closed, “Never.”

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Interview 📺🎤

Alexia Putellas x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary:

Interviewing the famous Alexia Putellas was a dream come true. Being a fan of football since a young age, finally being able to interview one of the best female footballers was truly an extatic. During this interview, Alexia slowly started flirting with you, teasing you slightly, smiling at you. After a few months of texting and going out, you become official. When another interview is organised with the two of you, the dynamic is a lot different than what it was a year ago.

You were living in a dream, growing up as a football fan, you could have never imagine in your life being able to interview the Alexia Putellas. You always admire her dedication, and leadership on the pitch. And imagining that in a few minute you would be sitting across from one of the best female footballers in the world felt surreal.

These past few days were a mix of excitement and nerves, revising till perfection every single word that you would adresse her, imagining every possible of scenario, having several anxiety attacks on what could go wrong.

You took a deep breath as you started hearing her footsteps coming closer and closer to the set.

(A) Hola debes ser la entrevistadora, ¿cómo estás?

hello you must be the interviewer, how are you ?

Estoy muy bien, gracias por preguntar. ¿Cómo estás?

I'm doing great, thank you for asking, how are you ?

Your thick English accent clearly coming through every word. She smiled at you.

English i see, lo estoy haciendo muy bien, gracias hermosa.

English i see, im doing great thank you beautiful.

You felt warm comming up to your cheeks, body frosen in shock, gay panic clearly sprend all over you as you try to make some kind of respond. She chuckled softly at you, eyes locked on yours.

Eres linda, me gustas. ¿Qué tal si comenzamos esta entrevista? Estoy emocionada por saber más sobre ti.

You're cute, i like you. how about we start this interview? im excited to know more about you.

You nobbed in response, not wanting to embarrass yourself more.

As you asked her about her incredible journey, her career highlights, her training, her winning the Ballon d'Or. She answered each question with her characteristic charm, but as the interview went on, something shifted. Her smiles stayed longer than necessary, her eyes sparkled with a teasing light, and there was a playful undertone to her responses. At first, you thought it was just your imagination. Then, she began making subtle comments. You laughed it off, trying to stay focused, but you couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

After the interview, you both lingered a little longer than expected, exchanging stories beyond football, letting the professional wall between you slowly disappear. Over the next few months, what started as an innocent professional connection turned into something deeper. You found yourselves texting frequently, sharing small moments of your day. Each conversation, each meeting, felt electric, filled with a tension that neither of you could ignore. Eventually, the inevitable happened. Alexia asked you out, and from that moment, everything changed.

Months passed, and your relationship blossomed. You had kept it private, aware of the media’s prying eyes. Alexia was extremely private, but with you, she was open, playful, and warm in a way the public rarely saw.

A year after that first interview, another one was scheduled. this time, both of you knew it would be different. As you walked into the studio, memories of your initial interview flooded back. The dynamic between you was entirely different now, the polite, formal exchanges of last year were gone. Now, there was a sense of ease, familiarity, and affection that neither of you could hide.

The interview started, but this time, the teasing wasn’t subtle. Alexia grinned at you before answering each question, occasionally reaching across to touch your hand or throwing in a playful remark about your relationship. The camera crew noticed the chemistry immediately, exchanging knowing looks as you tried to maintain your composure.

Has cambiado un poco desde nuestra última entrevista, no recuerdo que estuvieras tan... distraído.

you've changed a bit since our last interview, I don’t remember you being so...distracted.

She said, smirking. You laughed, trying to keep it professional, but you could feel the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Creo que eres tú la que está distraída, Alexia.

I think it’s you who's distracted, Alexia.

The interview was a mix of serious questions and light-hearted banter. It wasn’t just about football this time; it was about the bond between you two, the connection that had grown from a shared passion for the sport into something far more personal. The audience could see it, and they loved it.

As the interview wrapped up, Alexia leaned in slightly, her voice just low enough for only you to hear.

¿Cena después de esto?

Dinner after this?

You smiled, feeling your heart race just like it did that first day.

Wouldn't miss it for the world.

[donutz]

Not much but a romantic Sebastian and a burnt out gn reader who enters his shop to get some well deserved rest?

Burnt out! reader with Sebastian

A little rest won't hurt...

— I verbally went "ooo" at this request, also apologies for taking so long(This applies to future requests)

Warnings: Possibly touch starved Reader and Sebastian; Reader acts alcohol drunk(Sorry I don't mean to bring up trauma😓) but is actually sleep drunk; Accidently flirty Reader; Very vivid descriptions, I just think it makes it kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 so that's why I'm warning you; 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 mentions but nothing 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 happens; Flustered Sebastian ooo

Door, after door, after door, after door, you’re tired of this unending loop. The only good thing about this is that incredible shop and its owner.

God, what was his name again?

Sabers?

No that’s not it.

Uhhh.

Dang.

You can’t even think right! When’s the last time you forgot a name?

… You can’t remember that either, okay.

You’re limping through the halls, senses on point, well minus your sight. Your tired eyelids keep on dropping down or hanging.

You want to take a rest soooo baddd.

But you can’t. Not with Urbanshade watching you.

Not with Pinkie or Pandemonium.

Hate it.

Hate this place.

YOU hate this place.

Well accept for Sebastian since this place is the only reason he’s down here.

Just make it to Sebastian and you’ll be fine. Shove through the doors that won’t open or groan whenever you need a keycard.

Fight through the pain!

Well that’s pretty hard mentally.

And your mental state isn’t doing very well.

Ughhhh JUST GO THROUGH THE DOORS.

Sorry I didn’t mean to yell.

I’m just second personing your thoughts.

Actually my thoughts on what your thoughts are. Because I don’t actually know your thoughts. So yeah.

Oh god finally, door 48. You speed walk over to the next door, apparently not noticing Chainsmoker behind you.

.

.

.

“Woowww, you reallyyy saw that one. Y’know I–” He stops talking when he looks at your state. 

You’re looking down with your spine stretching till it pops out of your body. Your extremely tired eyes are barely even focusing, just waiting for that document to pop up.

Your body creates low and shallow breaths.

You look like you’re going to pass out.

“Oh uhhm… You alright?” Sebastian asks, with concern rolling around on his face.

Upon hearing his voice, you look up with excitement and expectation. Only being able to see two of his pastel blue eyes.

You try to speak but can’t, you’re dead remember?

Sebastian sees your attempt and sighs.

“Look, I know it’s hard out there but–” He pulls out his claw in front of you.

Seeing that as a, “Take my hand friend” Gesture, you take it. You seem touch starved with the way you quickly grasped onto his claw.

Using your two hands to grab his claw, breathing hard.

You wish you could feel his fingers.

In your hand of course.

Freakanator 3000.

But after a few seconds of silence and hand holding, you’re suddenly brought down to go see the document.

You didn’t even do that!

Did Sebastian do that?!

Could that have happened this whole time?

Then why did it happen now?!

Groaning in your head, you were motivated to see Sebastian and just maybe rest.

You were contemplating on whether you should keep going so you can find that dumb crystal and get out of here or for Sebastian. Meanwhile, he sat, surprised at the touch.

Maybe wanting some more?

From you specifically?

Just maybe?

You rushed through doors after ‘respawning’, even skipping some doors after hearing the entities behind you.

You perfectly nailed down the ways to survive the monsters, getting more and more excited as you get closer to Sebastian’s shop.

The adrenaline rushed through your body as you nearly broke down a few doors.

I thought those were bulletproof?

Slowing down your running, you nearly tripped upon seeing the room that Sebastian would be located in. Letting out big breaths that were loud enough to hear through your head gear.

Sometimes you let out a few guhs and coughs.

It was that bad.

You could drink your own sweat and that’ll help.

Your hands were on your knees, your legs shaking and sweat drops dripping onto your visor while you were looking down.

“Oh man, I can hear you from here. Take a break, yeah?” Sebastian commented, trying to not give you clues that he’s worried about you.

Saliva recollects in your mouth as you look back up at the vent. Your legs carry you over even if it hurts.

Getting out of the vent, you saw Sebastian and tried to smile.

“Ooo… You alright?” His question seemed genuinely curious.

You nod, crawling over to a spot and shutting your eyes.

Sebastian stays silent as he thinks that you fell asleep.

Your body collects its strength, your organs pumping correctly, the only thing that your brain needs now is sleep.

Yeah, the ONE thing that’s hard to get. Currently.

Your swaying right foot indicates that you’re awake, so Sebastian questions you on it.

“Oh you’re awake? I thought you passed out-”

“Offf course I’m awakee..!! How could I– Fall asleepp with a gooddd looking fella like youuu”??

Now that got him to pay full attention to you(Not like he wasn’t before).

“Are.. Are you drunk”?

‘Didn’t know prisoners could drink down here.’ He thought.

“Drunk on your lookss? Yeahhh. Youu look.. Soooooo HOT”!

Sebastian looks away to his left, mouth scrunched making it look like he’s disgusted. But he’s not! Because in this fanfic he actually likes you back.

He’d be flushing with red if he was warm blooded. 

You could tell with the way his fingers are fidgeting with each other. He attempts to pin back his side bang only for it to fall again.

He lets out a groan.

Changing your resting position, you stand up, walking over to Sebastian.

“I could pin your hair back for you. Hic up, baby. Ooo I’m so sleepy I’m hiccuping”.

“HAUH”?!?

“Oh sorry did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to I’m- hic up sorry”.

“It’s uhm. No. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, it's just that you’re so”..

“Bold? Yeah. I get like this when I’m sleep drunk”.

Oh so you’re aware you act like this?

“Y- Yea.. Bold”.

You stumble over to Sebastian, eyeing his tail. Looking back up at him, you point at his scales.

“Can I touch”?

“Yeah sure”.

Dropping down onto your knees you feel along his hard yet smooth scutes.

“I wish I could.. Actually feel your uhh, scales”.

“Hm”.

“But I can’t :(”

“Awh what a bummer.” He playfully teases.

After feeling up his tail some more, you ask him—

“What does it feel like”?

“My tail”?

“Yeah dum dum.” You chuckle at the slightly insulting nickname.

“Oh well now I won’t tell you because of your insult”.

“Nooooo, breathy chuckle, I was chokinggg… Wait no.. I was jokinggg”.

Sebastian stifles a laugh with his hand, his torso lightly shaking.

“Alright alright. My tail is pretty cold, it’s like smooth in a more slimy way. Yet there’s no slime. It’s kinda weird but I’m used to it”.

“Ooo, slimy tail. So if I take my hands off your tail I’ll get slime on my glove”?

“No, I just said that it’s smooth in a slimy sense yet there’s no slime”.

“... Sebastian, that makes no sense.” You said sternly.

“... Shut up”.

Eventually, you end up falling asleep on his tail. Drooling in your head gear, making a pool of it at the bottom.

Seeing you unconscious yet alive brings comfort to Sebastian. You’re still here, just not awake. Alive.

He’s never really thought about wanting a human alive before.

I don't mean to make Sebastian seem like this shy 'baby', I just think he'd get all blushy and nervous at bold romantic actions.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)

Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.

Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.

You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him. 

You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly. 

König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food. 

You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me? 

He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed. 

He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission. 

— I don’t want to kill you. 

You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch. 

— Are you going to rape me? 

He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this. 

— Nein. Thought I told you already. 

— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you. 

He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time. 

Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one. 

Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible. 

Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked. 

— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask? 

You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable. 

— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed. 

— I won’t kill you. 

— But you will hurt me. 

— I don’t have to do that, Liebling. 

No, he doesn’t. 

But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips. 

König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it? 

— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips. 

You refuse.

A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job. 

Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.

König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned. 

He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift. 

You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja? 

You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base. 

— I…I did. 

He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to. 

You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his. 

His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice. 

He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become. 

König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones. 

— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you. 

— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise. 

— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck. 

— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?

He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him. 

Speaking of legos…

You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him. 

Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that.  He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.

Bu building this insane set with him, that is.

[ddejavvu]

Can you do an anakin smut but face riding?

Like, reader tries to stop him because she is insecure of her body being to heavy and he just..does not give fuck.

Also, love your work❤️❤️

this post is 18+, minors dni.

in true anakin fashion, he takes this as an insult.

you push against his cheeks when he tries burying his face against your wet cunt- your soaking cunt, can't you see you need him? and he's almost annoyed when he loosens his biceps around your thighs so that you can scramble backwards to where he's trying to drag you in over him. You're staring down at him with apprehension clear on your face, and there's nothing he wants more than to push past it and ravage you until you can't keep your mouth closed.

but he raises one eyebrow, waiting for your explanation. when you placatingly croon, 'don't, anakin, just lay me down instead. 'might be too heavy, i don' wanna crush you'.

you have to remember that anakin functions almost purely on ego. he's cocky, he's arrogant, he knows he's too powerful for his own good and he loves it. not only is he powerful with the force, but he's also been through years of rigorous training to refine his body, too, and he knows that he could overpower just about anyone even if he wasn't armed with his saber. so when you dare to suggest that he might not be able to support you- when you practically jump him and grind yourself all over his thighs and then deny him your cunt when he knows you need it the most, when you've been pushing pushing pushing pushing pushing and all of a sudden you're pulling away, suggesting that maybe he can't take it-?

he can't have it? he can't have you? he can't have you and he can't have your needy cunt because he's not strong enough?

your very kind and caring concern for him is interpreted as nothing less than a vicious insult.

he turns his head to the side and bites your thigh. he doesn't nip it, like he would to incite some sort of playful brawl, or lick it like he would before indulging in what's between the two of them. No, he opens his mouth, bares his teeth, and bites into your thigh, grabs a hunk of the meat of it with his teeth and digs in until he can hear you scream. it's rough and he doesn't break skin but he does hope that it bruises, because all of a sudden apparently you need a reminder of his strength.

you're staring down at him with tears eyes as you clutch at the bite mark, blubbering, 'anakin, what-?' but he's not taking pity on you.

"The fuck do you mean by that?" He spits, "You think- you think i'm not strong enough? you think i can't handle it?"

"No, Anakin!" You try to reason, but he's well beyond the point of no return, "No, I just mean that-"

"That you'll be too much for me, is that it, baby?" He asks, eyes ablaze.

"No, I just want you to be able to breathe!"

your words fall on deaf ears as he muscles you forward again, ignoring your squeals of protest as he presses his face into your cunt. he doesn't lead with his mouth, but with his chin, so that from nose to chin he's flush to your pussy. you feel his nose nestled just beneath your clit and you feel him breathe you in, a mortifying sensation because you know you must smell like sweat and sex and filth.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't handle," He warns, his voice low and muffled by the heat of your cunt. He glares up at you, and you're starting to wonder if this has turned into some sort of punishment for daring to question him, and then you wonder why that makes it all the more enticing, "You want me, you were rubbing yourself all over me earlier like some pathetic little slut. You need me, and i'm going to take care of you. You think i'm not strong enough to give you what you need? I'll show you. I'll fucking show you-" He pants, inches away from being worked up into a fit of rage. he takes a deep breath, chest still heaving even though he hasn't cut off his airflow quite yet, still tantalizingly close to your cunt, "I'll fucking show everyone. I'm gonna make you scream, angel, and everyone's gonna know how wrong you were."

[pasukiyo]

I END WITH YOU

anakin skywalker x f!jedi!reader word count; 3,988 warnings; unprotected p in v sex, angst summary; you're too good, too noble. anakin doesn't understand why you feel the need to always protect him when he doesn't need saving. when you get hurt, it takes every ounce of willpower within him to not go insane. you don't seem to understand why he's so doting. you thought you had anakin skywalker figured out... ...but you have no idea how he ends.

 One look was all it took, for Anakin could hear it in the silence. 

 “I need you.”

 Anakin’s lips had already been pressed together, his brow already furrowed, for he was already royally pissed off. It’d been enough to be dragged on this wasteland of a planet by Obi-Wan, it’d been enough that she’d insisted that she should tag along, it’d been enough that absolutely nothing was going according to plan— and seeing her with a blaster wound to the bicep certainly didn’t aid in improving his mood. 

 It was bad enough he had to react like he didn’t care enough, pretend that for a moment, he didn’t fear that she wouldn’t react to move in enough time, that the little ray of blazing scarlet would pierce straight through her heart. It was bad enough that he had to watch her slice the wobbling green light of her saber through the battle droid’s chest all on her own, all the while clutching her arm. 

 It was bad enough watching her being patched up now, having to stare into her eyes that on the surface, seemed to mask her pain. But Anakin knew her better than anyone else— he could see right through that facade she’d so delicately crafted. All he could see now was her desperation, her desire to hold him close, to feel him so deeply like no other could. Anakin had to look away now, for not only was Obi-Wan approaching, but he knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to detach himself from her. 

 “You’ve certainly seen brighter days,” Obi-Wan said as he sauntered into the small alcove of the ship Anakin had accompanied her in. She tore her gaze away from the side of Anakin’s face to instead fixate on the Jedi Master, glancing down at her wound that C-3PO had since covered in Bacta spray. 

 “It’s no bother,” she replied, shrugging and raising her arm, much to 3PO’s dismay as he rocked the upper half of his body back, arms thrown in the air. “No, no! I am not done dressing your wound yet! You must keep it still or else your wound may open again and—“

 “3PO,” Anakin’s bark of the droid’s name permeated the room and all seemed to still for a moment. She blinked at the sound of Anakin’s voice and swallowed down her desire to let it burn like a spark on a rope, trailing all the way down her throat and chest until it reached the frayed edges at the pit of her belly, setting her center ablaze. She shifted where she sat and dropped her head, along with her arm as 3PO— now silent— continued to wrap it. 

 Anakin turned to face his former Master as Obi-Wan eyed him right back, a wrinkle in his brow. Anakin only waited for him to continue, wiping his face clean of any feeling. After another few moments of the already prolonged silence, Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder into the frame of the door. 

 “Master Windu summons us for a meeting as soon as we get back to the Temple,” Obi-Wan continued. “To discuss all that has transpired today, and such.”

 Anakin sunk his molars down into the slimy flesh of the inside of his cheek, feeling his features harden as he turned away to face the panels on the wall. 

 “Great,” he replied, irritation laced in his tone. Obi-Wan knew Anakin well enough to know when something was weighing on his mind. But Obi-Wan also knew Anakin well enough to know when to not push his boundaries. He respected him enough for that, at least. 

 Obi-Wan sighed as he pushed off the wall, dipping his chin when he glimpsed back over to where she sat, 3PO finishing up the final touches of her bandages. “Rest well,” he said. “You will need your strength.”

 She dipped her chin back to Obi-Wan, grateful for an excuse to avert her gaze. “Thank you,” she replied, and then Obi-Wan was off, brown robes trailing behind him and slowly disappearing behind the door as it slid closed. 

 “There,” 3PO finished her bandages at last. She glanced down at her wrapped arm, already feeling the bacta spray begin to set into the wound, sighing in relief as the pain began to subside. “Please do not move it around too much. Too much movement could lead to—“

 “That’s enough, 3PO,” Anakin, voice still as deep as it was earlier, turned, sharp gaze slicing into the metal of the droid. 3PO turned to face his creator, “but, Master Skywalker, I must insist that she—“

 “I assure you, 3PO, that she will face no further harm,” Anakin interrupted the droid yet again, arms uncrossing and dropping to his sides as he moved to step closer. 3PO, with his stiff arms held in the air, took a step backward, facing his Master. “Now go.”

 3PO’s arms flailed as he turned, waddling his way towards the door. “How rude! A thank you would be nice every once in a while,” she could just make out from the droid before the door slid closed behind him and she bowed her head, picking at the edges of her bandages with her fingernails. 

 “You could be nicer to him, you know,” she murmured, not having realized that Anakin had drawn himself closer, not until the middle and forefinger of his gloved mechanical hand pressed beneath the underside of her chin. Her gaze was forced into his, her bottom lip quivering at the storm raging in the dark hues of his irises. Although she knew Anakin was angry, she could feel a spark set her skin ablaze at the sight of his tightly pressed lips, of his furrowed brow, tight jaw and exploded pupils. 

 She struggled to keep her thighs from closing together to ease the ache in her core. 

 “Why must you insist on getting yourself into situations that always end in you getting hurt?” Anakin snipped and she blinked when the thumb of his gloved hand curled around the curve of her chin, his grip tightening on her jaw. Her breath shuddered as Anakin’s stare dropped to her lips, to her throat, to her collarbone, to her clothes, as if searching for any further sign of injury. 

 Her bottom lip wobbled before she replied, “you can at least acknowledge that I do not always get myself hurt.” 

 Anakin breathed a humorless laugh through his nostrils at this, his jaw ticking as he straightened, dropping his hand from her face altogether to pace the floor. “You’re always putting yourself in front of others, in front of Obi-Wan, in front of me,” he shook his head and she stared at the scar slicing through his right brow to avoid his gaze. “As if we aren’t capable of protecting ourselves.”

 Her quivering lips curled into a scowl at this as he looked anywhere but at her, chest heaving with the effort of keeping his anger at bay. “You’re angry with me for protecting you?” she repeated to confirmed and Anakin glowered her way. “I do not need your protection,” he hissed. “I can do it just fine on my own. Why don’t you look out for yourself every once in a while, you wouldn’t be in here today, hurt.”

 A humorless titter tumbled past his lips and he shook his head again. “Foolish girl,” he muttered, the wrinkle in her brow dimpling. “I do not need you to belittle me, Anakin,” she hissed back. “Do you take me for a fool?”

 Her heart pounded its fists against the inside of her chest— the last thing she wanted now was to argue with him. All she wanted was him, she craved him, needed to feel his arms around her, his fingers in her hair, his skin upon hers. But there, where that desire ached deep in the marrow of her bones, burned fury, white hot anger blitzing through her veins like a comet. 

 Did Anakin underestimate her? After all this time they’d known each other, grown with each other in the temple, learned together, trained together, fought together— did he misconstrue her power? 

 Her need for Anakin could wait— this berating of her dignity could no longer go on. 

 Anakin’s feet pivoted until he faced her, eyes searching her face, fleeting between her sealed lips, her clenched jaw, furrowed brows, heaving chest, sharpened features. He didn’t need to reach out and feel it to know she was upset, and it occurred to him that perhaps in his haze of rage, he’d misspoken. 

 He knew how capable she was, how skilled of a Jedi she was. There was no doubt about it— but what he hated most was how noble she was, how good she was. He hated that because she was too good, she’d spare not a second thought in battle. How it’d make her use herself as a shield to protect others, to protect him. 

 He couldn’t stand it, her need to protect him when his need to protect her blazed just as strong. Anakin couldn’t go on another minute knowing she’d been blasted all because he’d had his back turned, because she’d been quicker to react than him. Had he been paying attention, had he moved faster, he’d have been able to deflect the blaster bolt with his saber, he’d have been the one with the blaster wound instead. 

 His gaze flickered down to the bandages wound on her upper arm and he had to turn away, feeling the bitter taste of bile on the tip of his tongue. 

 “I do not think you are a fool,” he began. “But must you always be so noble?” She blinked, feeling her heart skip a few beats inside her chest. “Putting yourself in the line of danger for others, for me,” he shook his head as he paced to the other side of the room. “I cannot stand it.”

 She straightened her posture where she sat, sucking in a deep breath. “If I infuriate you so much, perhaps it’d serve you well to quit doting on me all of the time,” she snapped back, unflinching even when his glare hardened, firing just like a blaster shot into hers. “You pay attention to me more than you do yourself. Do you know how much I would hate myself if you got hurt because you treat me like I am a child?”

 Anakin stopped pacing, turning to face her once more. Either of his hands rested on his hips, bottom lip wobbling with his temper. 

 “You are not a child,” he replied. “And I am not doting. You misunderstand me.”

 She shook her head, “I think I’ve got you pretty figured out, Anakin Skywalker,” she said with a humorless titter, rising from her seat to march her way towards the door. She couldn’t stand being alone with him anymore, not when she looked at him and didn’t know whether or not she wanted to pounce on him and kiss him until their lips bled or slap her palm across his face. 

 Just before she could make it within reaching distance of the door’s control panel, the glove around his prosthetic hand tight where it wrapped around her uninjured arm, stilling her where she stood. 

 For a moment, neither spoke. She pressed her lips together in a firm, thin line, her breath heavy as it exhaled through her nose. She willed her eyes to fixate on his, the action proving itself difficult, as they wanted nothing more than to drop to his lips. His gaze was so hot, it was blistering, and she swore she could melt in a pool of magma at their feet. 

 “You know where I begin,” Anakin spoke in a low, husky voice. Her bottom lip quivered— damn her soaked center for betraying her so. “But you’ve not even the slightest idea where I end.”

 She blinked up at him, feeling a gate open somewhere inside of her, all her anger and frustration washing away as if with rain. All that remained in the downpour’s wake now was her libido, her desire to kiss him, her need to feel him, her lust for just him. 

 As the silence neared its end, Anakin’s features began to deflate, as if he’d reached out with the Force to feel him. She allowed herself to breathe, seal her eyelids closed, and reach an invisible hand towards him. Sure enough, she could feel him like a whisper on the tips of her fingers, like reaching out to graze her nails on the surface of the ocean. 

 When her eyes fluttered open again, his were closed, but not for long. She watched his eyelashes as they flit upon his cheeks, the veil of his lids sliding away until she was staring into that strange, enigmatic ocean in his gaze, his waters so dark, so blue, so captivating that she allowed herself to dive right in. 

 “Then lead me to your end,” she whispered breathlessly, feeling the gloved hand he’d had wrapped around her upper arm make its trek up the mountain of her shoulder, through the valley between it and her neck, up her throat and across the waterfall of her chin until his palm cupped her cheek. The pad of his thumb soothed over the flesh just beneath her bottom lip, and she shuddered. 

 Anakin sifted through the darkness of her pupils, his gaze so intense that for a moment, she believed he really was reading her mind, searching through the archives of her brain. But really, all he saw was her, as if she were in the limelight. All he could focus on was her, her breathing, her eyes, nose, lips. 

 He was a black hole, a bottomless pit etched into the earth, so dark, she realized that he was right: she wasn’t sure where he ended. 

 And Anakin pulled her right in. 

 They surged into one another like a wave crashing into another, his lips a seal over hers. Their tongues did a waltz inside where their mouths connected, Anakin quickly taking control. She mewled into his mouth as she clutched at his robes, tugging them forward as Anakin backed her into the wall, her back hitting the steel with a thud. 

 She was already so frustrated— yanking on the fabric of his robes, searching for an inch of his skin. His tongue was so strong over hers, his kiss so powerful, her mind was beginning to ooze into goo. Anakin’s hands moved away from her body but their kiss never once broke as he pushed the outer layer of his robes off his shoulders, letting the material pool at their feet. 

 She began unraveling his underclothes like he was a gift and he yanked the leather glove off of his mechanical hand, undoing the cloth belt around her waist with his other. Anakin tossed her belt off to the side, the flowy, outer layer of her top unraveling from her chest and he pushed the material down her shoulders, letting it join his robes on the floor. They pulled away for the briefest of moments, solely so Anakin could lift the tight undershirt away from her body before lifting his own shirt over his head. She pulled him in by the hem of his pants when he was done, tugging them down his thighs as he pulled down hers. 

 Skin. All she could feel was Anakin’s skin and oh, it was the softest thing she swore she’d ever touched before. He was like the richest of velvet, soft and so beautiful, a never-ending avenue for her lust. All she wanted to do all the time was touch him, never let his skin leave hers. 

 A hand snaked around to the nape of his neck to tug on the dark blonde locks there as his kisses broke from her lips to trace a line down her neck, feeling the edges of his teeth against the small curve of her collarbone. Her other hand clawed at the expanse of his back, hissing through her teeth at the pressure of his body against her wound. For a moment, Anakin seemed to realize this, his kisses slowing on her collarbone until she used the grip she had on his hair to draw him into her again. 

 “Don’t stop,” she mewled beside the shell of his ear, only hoping she’d be able to keep herself quiet enough. The notion that Obi-Wan was still on the ship lingered in the back of her mind, but she wasn’t so sure Anakin cared as much as his lips trailed down to the swell of her breast, nipping her between his teeth there. 

 Her head threw itself back against the steel wall, one of her legs lifting and bending to wrap around his. Anakin placed his palms on the backs of her thighs to lift her up, his body the only thing keeping her balanced. 

 “Anakin,” she breathed as he sucked marks into her breasts, teasing the bud of one of her nipples with the tip of his tongue. Through hooded lids, he glanced up at her, his lips never ceasing. She swiped her tongue between her lips for moisture, panting as he sunk his teeth into the flesh on the underside of her breast, sure to leave a mark. “Anakin!” She yelped and he released her skin, the bridge of his nose soothing up the valley between her tits as he kissed her skin.

 “I can’t help it,” he breathed into her chest. “You are like a vice.”

 She mewled again as she bucked her hips into him, feeling his erection beneath her.

 “Please Anakin,” she murmured. “Just need you to be inside. Need to feel you.”

 Anakin muttered a string of curses into her throat as he kissed his way back to her lips, peeling his mouth away from hers to rest his forehead against hers. 

 “Yeah?” He whispered, feeling her nod against his head. Anakin gazed down between her legs, at the glistening folds of her cunt, past it where the angry, pink head of his cock was. There was an ache deep in the pit of his belly for her that even he couldn’t believe he’d deprived himself of relieving for so long. “I need you too.”

 She gasped as he rocked his hips slowly, the tip of his length prodding against the underside of her angry clit. Her arms tightened where they were wrapped around his neck, catching his bottom lip between hers, sucking as he steadied himself into position, clamping her teeth down into the plush, pink flesh when he slid himself in. 

 Only the head of his cock had breached her barrier but she was already crying, hot, fat tears slipping from her eye sockets and rolling down her cheeks. She was so desperate to feel more, to have him as deep inside of her as possible. She could feel her walls clench around him, inviting him further in. Anakin groaned above her, muttering a string of curses against her sweaty hairline as he pushed himself the last few inches in.

 Anakin was so big, so girthy that she felt so full, felt like she hadn’t any room to speak, not even to breathe. She could feel him so deep inside of her where no other had been before, feeling him reach that hardly touched spot so far in her that just the mere graze of his tip against it felt like it seared a bruise.

 “Anak—!” She cried before his lips were on hers again, muffling her sounds. His hips retracted before thrusting back in, his cock hitting her cervix again, making her vision go black and glisten with stars. 

 “I’ve never felt something as wonderful as this,” Anakin panted as he pulled back only to thrust himself back in again. “I could stay in your pussy forever.”

 Her bottom lip wobbled and a mewl ripped from her throat as he clenched her thigh with his prosthetic hand, the other resting on the side of her neck, thumb just above the pulse of her throat. 

 “Let me see you,” Anakin whispered against her ear, pulling away as her eyelids fluttered back open, feeling that blistering stare surge back into hers. 

 But she knew what he meant. 

 She closed her eyes again and Anakin dropped his forehead to hers, his pace at a steady rhythm, his thrusts forceful, significant. She focused on the length of his cock nestled deep inside her warmth, on his warm skin on hers, on his breathing and the beat of his heart. All ceased to exist except for Anakin Skywalker, and she opened her mind to the sole being of her universe. 

 He felt like a breath of fresh air on the brightest day in Naboo, like when they visited their friend Padmé Amidala there and took a stroll through the Lake Country. He felt like the gentle, warm breeze that kissed her cheek. He was as warm as the smile he’d given her when they’d fallen on their backs in the plush, green grass. He was as tender as the words he’d spoken to her when he confessed his love for her. 

 Anakin Skywalker was truly a force like no other. He was power like she’d never felt before, more electrifying than even the rush that wielding her lightsaber gave her. He was stronger than even the feeling of the Force flowing through her veins was because in her eyes, he was her Force, her ground, her earth, her universe. 

 Anakin Skywalker was all that existed. He was all that was ever important. She never cared once for the oath she’d sworn under the Jedi Code when she was with him. She’d leave it all behind, let all her training and hard work go to waste, just so she could have him like this. Anakin was her centerfold, and she, his. 

 She stared at Anakin with a gentleness she’d never seen him in before and through their connection in the Force, he began to glow, like a star in a supernova. When she glanced down at herself, she found she shone the same. They were two stars in the middle of the galaxy reaching their end and she surged into him to brace for impact. 

 “Anakin!” She called his name into the connection and Anakin murmured her name back, feeling him brush against her cheek like the pad of a thumb. “I’m so close,” she mewled breathlessly and Anakin hummed in reply. He was so bright now, they were both so close that it was blinding. “We end together,” Anakin replied, sifting his fingers through her hair. 

 And they did just that. 

 Like a star in a supernova, she exploded and suddenly she was back in that small alcove of the ship, shuddering in the strong, warm arms of Anakin Skywalker. Her legs trembled with the force of her orgasm as it surged through her, her body melting into Anakin’s as thick, hot spurts of his own release flooded into her. 

 Their skin melted together as they both panted, chasing air back into their lungs and coming down from their highs. Using her arms still wrapped around his neck, she drew herself closer into him, nuzzling the side of her face against his chest. She could hear and feel his heartbeat there, matching the tempo of her own. 

 “I burn for you, Anakin,” her voice came out in barely a whisper. “It’s why I protect you— I’d be nothing if I were to lose you.”

 Anakin said nothing for a moment and she took the time to bask in the warmth of the silence, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. 

 “It’s because of how much I burn for you that I care so much about you,” he finally murmured his reply. “Because you are my purpose. I only end with you.”

a/n; okay six posts in a row, i am on a roll LMAOOO but ummmm... i actually feel proud of this one... i know... crazy 😵‍💫 turns out i write the best whenever i'm sitting in the bathtub LMFAO anyways! i truly hope you all enjoy this one :) i’ve enjoyed writing for anakin a lot these days! i don’t know why i never took the time to write for him before, he’s such a unique and complex character who is so fun to write for!

please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply if you enjoyed! it means the world to me 🥹🫶

TAGLIST;

@your-nanas-house

@chaoticevilbakugo

@k1ttenmittonz

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Broken Promises

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a master thief, given the task to steal a lightsaber from a Jedi temple. In the process of getting away, you run into someone you never thought you’d see again.

A/N: slight AU in which Qimir really is just some hot dorky guy and not a hot sexy Sith.

It brought you a sense of pride hearing Jedi scramble about in the middle of the night. Their false sense of security disintegrated after word reaching to them that an intruder had stolen the relic from them - a lightsaber that belonged to an esteemed Jedi knight.

You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you climb over the walls of the Jedi temple. You jump down, going into a tuck and roll. You regain your composure and look back down into your satchel, the saber still inside.

You pull up your hood and scarf to cover your face and waltz into the crowd of people celebrating the Moon Festival.

All kinds of people and species don similar robes as you wear. The colors of dark blue and light blue to represent the moons of Tython. Once every few cycles, the moons appear beside each other and is meant to grant good luck and fortune to Tython’s inhabitants. Thus a festival to celebrate that look and fortune emerged.

You knew because of the festival, everyone would be distracted, even the Jedi that lived at the temple that housed the relic saber.

You weave through the crowd, keeping your head low and a firm grip on your satchel. You hear a commotion and look behind you to see a group of Jedi making their way through the crowd, looking for you.

You continue the direction you’re going, trying your best not to look suspicious. As you turn a corner, someone takes hold of your wrist and pulls you into an alley way.

You hand immediately goes to your dagger on your hip. You use your weight to press the assailant against the wall, blade at their neck.

Your eyes widen when you see who grabbed you.

You yanked you hood back and pull your scarf from your face, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re supposed to be dead.”

You step back and sheath your weapon, “What are you doing here, Qimir?”

The man fixes his robes and sweeps some of his hair out of his face, “I heard a rumor you got hired for a job here. Thought ‘that’s not possible. I watched her die.’ Figured I’d see if I was wrong and,” he gestures to your being, “I was. Here you are living and breathing.”

You scoff, “Yes, I’m sure this is quite a shock considering you left me to die!” You sneer at the man.

He holds his hands up, “To be fair, that was a fatal blow. What was the point of staying?”

“Maybe to see if there was a chance I lived? Which there clearly was!”

You hear the glow of sabers near you and immediately start undoing your dark blue robe, “Switch robes with me. Now!”

“What? Why-“

“Now, Qimir!”

The man scrambles as he undoes his cloak, handing it to you while you toss yours at him. You both quickly re-dress as footsteps near.

“Okay, now-mmf!” Qimir’s words go interrupted as your lips press against his.

The glow of a blue lightsaber causes you to pull away with a gasp, “Oh! Um,” you giggle nervously at the Jedi who seemed uncomfortable to have witnessed you and Qimir in such a state.

The young man clears his throat, “Apologies, but, have you seen a suspicious person dressed in dark blue robes pass by?”

You snort, “A person dressed in dark blue robes? That’s like half of this planet right now.”

“You didn’t see anyone that seemed like they didn’t belong?”

You shake your head, “No, sir. To be quite honest we’ve been a little,” you gesture between you and Qimir, “preoccupied, as you noticed.”

The Jedi uncomfortably clears his throat, “Yes, well, apologies. If you do see or hear anything, please report it to the Jedi temple immediately.”

You salute to the man, “Will do.”

“Um, enjoy your night,” he says before he and the few other Jedi behind him continue around the corner.

You let out a deep breath and look back at Qimir, who was smirking at you, “Did you get better at kissing?”

You roll your eyes and tug him by the sleeve to follow you back out into the crowd. Stumbling after you, he asks, “Where are we going?”

“To meet my client and get my money.”

“Why are you taking me?”

“Because I don’t trust you not to turn me in to those Jedi.”

The further you walk from the celebrations, the quieter things become. Your hold on Qimir doesn’t loosen until you make your way to the forest where you hid your ship.

“Wow,” Qimir stands in awe of the vessel, “You’ve upgraded.”

“Had to since you left me to die and stole my ship.”

You two walk up the ramp and head towards the cockpit. You hear Qimir sigh as he follows you, “You’re still angry about that?”

You throw yourself into the pilot’s seat and start up your ship. Aggressively, flipping switches, pressing buttons, “Yes, Qimir! I’m still angry about it! We were a team! We were lo-“, you stop yourself, “We were friends. I thought I meant more to you than that. I was clearly wrong.”

You slowly bring the ship into the air and go full speed ahead, causing Qimir to fall backward right in his butt.

He groans as he does his best to bring himself to his feet, “I’m sorry! I am!”

Once in the atmosphere, you hit the hyperdrive and go into hyperspace.

You turn in the pilot’s chair to face Qimir, who’s looking down at you with a sad expression, “I hurt you and I’m sorry. But I am glad you’re not dead…and since I didn’t say anything to the Jedi-“

“Oh fuck off!” You stand and push past him, “Just because you didn’t turn me in, you think you deserve a cut?”

“I’m kidding….mostly,” he responds as he follows you to the sleeping quarters. He leans against the wall as you walk behind a changing screen.

“So…you didn’t really think to see me after all this time?” He asks.

You snort, “Again, you left me to die.”

“I don’t know what you would’ve wanted me to do, Y/N.”

After changing into comfier clothes, you stomp out from behind the changing screen, “To stay with me! Even if I were to die, I wouldn’t have been alone! That’s what hurts the most, Qimir! After you promised you’d always be at my side and that you cared about me, the time I needed you the most, you weren’t. You broke your promise.”

Qimir observes your broken expression, the facade of being collected and intimidating having melted away. He slowly walks up to you, slipping his hands into yours, “I know. I’m sorry, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be here if I still didn’t care. When I heard that you were alive and still taking jobs, I hoped, prayed even, that it was true, that you were alive. That I could see you again.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you sigh, “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

“You made me work for your trust the first time. I’ll work for it this time as well.” He kisses your forehead and steps back, “Now let’s go get your money, shall we?” He shoots you that grin that made you fall for him all those years ago.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you mumble as you let go of his hands and head back to the cockpit to steer you towards your waiting client.

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe Ⅳ

Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Synopsis: Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: thank you guys for your support, like for real, please like, comment or reblog so I'll know if u want me to continue the story!

You felt.. weird.

In a way, nothing looked wrong, you left immediately after you got your clothes, but there was something, you couldn't point your finger at it.

Was it because he was so eerily welcoming? Or the fact that him, a Jedi, let you go so quickly? No interrogation or anything, not even a slight inspection, well maybe they did when you were unconscious, but still, there was something.

You looked behind you one last time before hurriedly entering your ship, you felt safe there, knowing your master blessed this ship (i mean, he stepped on it once but never after that anyways—)

You hear the animal chittering from afar, at least someone was waiting for you.

"Helloo" you couldn't stop the smile on your face when you picked him up, or her? You still couldn't think of a name, or if you can even keep it, maybe you can keep it hidden in your ship until you convince Qimir to let it live with him..

The ground beneath you shakes, a signal that you're finally home, you've never wanted to kiss the rocks of this planet so bad, normally you go on missions with Mae or Qimir, but never alone, you hated that, even without Mae, he never lets you go alone, it's bullshit, he treats you like a kid, which you are not.

Then you felt him.

Qimir.

Was he here?

You smiled and hurriedly hopped down the last step of your ship, you were buzzing in anticipation, he never visited you guys, not even once, or maybe it's whenever you weren't there, but you couldn't care less about that now, you were so excited you forgot to change from the Jedi's clothes into your own, eh, who cares.

You pause when you see your master and Mae, no Qimir in sight.

"Where did you go?" Mae says, frowning when her eyes land on your clothes. "And wha—"

"Mae."

You both straightened at the sound of his stern voice.

"Master," she bows and gives you a knowing look before swiftly leaving the cave.

"M-master—"

"Where. Were. You." It was the same question, but this time there was something more sinister in his tone. "Olega, master, I was in, in Olega to visit—"

"Him."

"Yea-- yes master"

"Hm." He looked contented for a bit, maybe it was because he couldn't hear your thoughts— no, he would've been more alarmed when he couldn't, you concealed a part where you met the Jedi, you wonder if it was working.

"Then," he was once again towering over you, menacingly staring you down with his mask, you felt the shift in his demeanor, or just something that flicked off there, you were looking directly at his chest, scared that you could burn holes in his helmet if you kept looking.

He was gripping your arm— no, he was gripping the sleeves of your clothes, you didn't know where or what he was looking at, but with the way his knuckles were turning white, you think you'd done something.

"M-master—"

"Your.."

You try and decipher what he was feeling at the moment, but that always fails every time. You frown as you try to understand his unusual intensity, the way he was visibly shaking in anger.

"A-are you alright..? You-- your—"

"What is this?" His voice was filled with anger, his saber long forgotten behind him on the counter.

"I-- I'm," you couldn't find your voice, he was scaring you like this, you don't ever see him as scary as he is in the battle field, or hunting big creatures. And as if he saw right through you.

"Answer me."

The calmness of his voice scares you even more, the explanations on your mind melts on your tongue, like cotton candy, gone away before you could munch.

"I-I don't.. it's—"

"Whose is this!"

"I don't know!"

Your lower lip trembles as you gasp, your fingers unconsciously reach over to the grip your master has on you.

"Oh you know," his chuckle sends a chill down your spine, what was wrong with him?

"You dare lie to me?"

"N-no, I wouldn't please—"

"Then tell me!" The cave seemed to shake at his voice. "Tell. Me"

He knew, but you didn't have to know that, you didn't have to tell him because he knows, he just needs you to be honest, is that so hard?

"J-jedi!"

You whimper, the grip he had on you started making your arm numb, like a blood clot. "I-it hurts please sto—"

He shoves you hard on the ground, but before you hit the surface, you feel his arm around yourself, your arms tucked in your chest with his biceps flexing in front, your back against his chest.

You don't move an inch as his breath tickles down your ear and to your neck.

"Good-" he resists the urge to finish the sentence, quickly shutting his mouth. You're painfully aware of his close proximity, your hips unintentionally buckle against him, particularly his lower regions that started to poke you earlier, didn't he have his saber on the counter?

You heard him groan, but shrugged it off thinking it was because of pain. You realized you were shivering, the cold wind was only a factor of why, you've never been this close with your master, not even Mae, his acolyte, got this direct with him.

"M-master—"

"Shh," he pauses, your feet getting raised above the ground by an inch, you were now half standing and half sitting on his lap, your cheeks burn at the slightest move the both of you make, every heartbeat felt amplified, resonating through your entire body as his presence enveloped you.

"Was that so hard?"

"W-what?"

"Telling me the truth, was it so hard for you to spit out the truth that you came in touch with a Jedi? That he, he touched you?"

You could barely think, your lungs constricted by the intensity of his gaze and the closeness of his body.

"Why? Were you trying to..." His voice was low and dark, each word dripping with an intensity that made your skin prickle. "Protect him.. perhaps?"

"No! N-no.. I wasn't, I promise, I was only—"

"Did you like it?"

You were dizzy, the warmth of his body rutting against yours felt almost electrifying, the pressure sending a jolt down through your body.

"W-wha.."

"Yord was it? Mhm," despite the anger on the way the Jedi's name rolled off his tongue, there was a fleeting softness in his eyes whenever you tried to hold onto him, did you not trust him?

You could hear the soft, ragged sounds of his breath against your ear, each exhale stirring a sense of tension and anticipation.

"Y-your scaring me—"

"Scaring you?" He sounded like he was mocking you, but there was something in his tone that tells you there was something else, something more sinister.

"You're scared of me?"

You gulp, the nod you gave was short-lived when you hear Mae's voice outside the cave, your eyes widen as you try to signal your master, but he didn't move an inch, maybe he didn't hear you?

Or maybe he just chose not to.

What was I on when I wrote this chapter 🤨

[watsittoyah]

The Devils Playpen

A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC

NEXT

This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.

That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.

You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…

Chapter 1) When The Predator Becomes Prey…

(Song: Obsession By Exo)

Warning: Mentions of suicide. Stalking, choking of non sexual nature. Oral sex, shibari, threats of r*pe, Light Saber play (don’t be dumb you know what that last tag means)

I walk past a woman with long and short locks but she brings no excitement to my inner beast.

How lucky she is.

I hiss internally as I walk inside of the apothecary. Once I’m inside I inhale deeply, letting the poison I desire call to my senses.

However I smell something else. Something sweet? Sticky? I let my eyes fall onto a man hunched over in a corner. I don’t bother with manners of averting my eyes.

My curiosity has a scratch and I want it itched.

“Hello?” I call out to him in a soft voice. The man appears to be sleeping and I walk closer but keep my distance. His scent still smells sticky and sweet. Like those man eating plants over on Plexart.

“Hello, sir? I’m here to buy some supplies.” I say as I stare at his sleeping form. I flick an empty bottle over and it shatters causing him to finally stir from his slumber.

“Oh, sorry.” He stretches and does a big yawn before he looks over at me. When our eyes meet, he runs his fingers through his mop like hair and gives me a lazy smile. “Oh, hello. And you are?” He asks as he stands fully.

I take note that we have a significant size difference. He looks to be 5’11 while I stand at 5’4.

“I’m here to buy supplies, unless you aren’t the owner of this shop.” I ask in a gentle yet bored tone. He clears his throat and nods. “I am, I am. So what can I get for you? Ah, pick your poison.” He jokes. I however don’t laugh or crack a smile.

“I just needs a few things on this list. Whatever you don’t have, I’m sure I can find on my travels.” I hand him a piece of paper and our fingers brush against each other. He feels cold to the touch.

Interesting…

“Hm, this is quite the list. Might I ask what are all of these for?” He asks as he looks at me.

No, he’s studying me. Which makes my inner beast stir.

“Just some tools on helping me hunt. Nothing major. I don’t mean to be rude but I do need to be on my way.”

“Right, I will get on this for you now.” He starts on my list and I decide to look around and figure out if I’m going to kill him or let him live since he brings a spark of something out of me.

“Can I ask you a question?” The man asks, which causes me to give an internal sigh. “What is your question sir?”

“Qimir, you can call me Qimir. Anyways my question for you is, what methods do you take to hunt your prey?” This question peaks my interest because the way he says prey I think he knows I hunt a different kind of species.

“There’s many ways to do that. Poisons, bare hands, even a simple isolation tactic. But the best method…is simply a mental attack. That works on any kind of prey.” I say with a hint of a smile on my lips. I look up and see Qimir staring at my lips.

I bite my plump bottom lip, which makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

“Forgive me for prying, but the items on your list, they are interesting. Bunta Root? That grows-”

“In one specific place I know, but I figured this place would have it here..” I look away from him and glance out the window.

In a matter of days, I will be at her door and I’ll she can’t escape me. I can’t wait to see her eyes widen by surprise. She’ll think how did a beast like me, hunt her down to the very last of her days.

Will she beg for her life?

Will she plead that I do it quickly?

The possibilities will be endless when I finally get my hands on Zen.

Zen…

She was once a great ally to my people at least until she got them killed.

Genocide, her and those moral less Jedi committed genocide to my people and I need to make sure they pay. She’s the final one and I just know, she knows I’m coming for her. Especially when the word went around on how her partner’s body was discovered.

I’ll never forget how his eyes had ballooned in his skull after I cracked his head open. I can almost picture his head hitting the concrete over and over and over. His brain matter was all over my hands, staining my nails with his blood.

If I close my eyes tonight will his ghost haunt me?

Will his soul ask me why I took him from his lover so soon?

I blink and I’m no longer in that glorious gruesome memory.

I turn and Qimir is standing close to me, almost making me flinch. “Excuse you.” I snap at him. He looks me up and down and cocks his head to the side.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…you remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is just uncanny. You look…exactly like her.” He whispers softly as he takes in my entire appearance.

Instead of stepping back, his scent makes my stomach grumble which makes me flick my split tongue against my inner cheek.

“Trust me Qi, if you knew me…you wouldn’t be standing so close.” I say to him letting my split tongue slither past my full lips. I notice his eyes darken from my movement for a split second.

“Why is that? I find you quite the interesting creature.” He says as he reaches out to touch my coiled curl. I jerk my head back not from his attempt to touch me, but from his scent.

I want to split my jaw open and take a chunk out of him. His scent had changed somehow. He smells like spiced sweet fruit.

I see a smirk on his lips and I want to bite him. I want to bite his flesh and rip i-

“Excuse me?” We break eye contact and I see a woman, she looks exactly like the woman I had passed when I came in here but her hair…it’s short. And she smells… sour.

I grow bored with her and move away from Qimir. But as I move away he grabs my wrist. I look down at his hand and then at him. “Don’t go anywhere. I’d like to finish this.” He lets my hand go and he moved away from me swiftly.

I narrow my eyes at his back as he talks to the woman. As I glance at her with boredom I can smell that she’s anxious? Scared?

Oh, maybe I can have some fun with her after all.

As Qimir talks to her, which tells me something is going on, I run my hand along the counter and ‘accidentally’ bump into her, causing her things to clatter to the floor.

“Oh I’m so sorry, Miss. Do forgive me I am not myself.” We lock eyes and in that moment, she’s frozen in place. Her pupils dilate. I can hear her pulse quicken. “I..it’s okay.” She stutters as I hand her her things.

“You are so pretty.” I say as I take in her whole face. I see her blink a few times and I study her presence.

She’s nervous, hmm her body is smart to be nervous, but is her brain?

“Oh! I’m sorry, I give compliments before I even give my name. I’m Akasha. And you are?” I see the apple of her cheeks deepen in color after I compliment her.

“I’m-” She looks away from me and at Qimir but I clear my throat and she looks back at me, trapped in my spell. “I’m Osha.” She whispers with a small smile. “Such a pretty name. I don’t mean to over step, but would you like some company on your travels?” Before she answers me, Qimir clears his throat.

I cut my eyes at him and he’s staring at me, in a way that makes me want to challenge him. “I thought you wanted your things in a hurry, Akasha.” He says my name as if he’s accusing me of something .

“Suddenly I am in no rush, especially when it comes to making new friends.” I stand as well as Osha and I step towards her. Inhaling her fear.

Her scent is starting to ripen, oh I need to sink my teeth into her, before she spoils. Before she-

“Mae, if you don’t mind. I’m just handling this customer and then I can get back to you.”

Mae?

I look back at the woman and she looks down at her fingers, fidgeting with them.

“Okay, Qimir.” She says with hesitation in her voice. She looks at me and I wink at her. “So, pretty one, might I ask, what brings you to an apothecary?” I ask as I lean against the counter, looking her up and down.

I wonder how her teeth taste.

“I’m just here to thank Qimir for the item he gave me. It helped me greatly.” I listen to her pulse and it quickens.

Oh you little liar.

Now I’m excited to know why she’s lying so much.

“You’re welcome. I hope I can help anyway I can to help you please your Master.” Qimir says as I feel him behind me. I look back and he was leaning forward, playing with one of my curls.

How did I not notice him this close to me?

I flick my hair from his touch and he sniffs his finger tips.

Did he just sniff his fingers?

“Akasha, since you’re making friends, how about being my friend?” Qimir asks as he stares me deep into my eyes.

Hmmm…

“I like being friends with girls, Qimir. They’re are nice and sweet….” I look at his lips and I can imagine biting them.

“But with boys? I tend to be a bit too rough with them. And you?” I look him over his slim athletic build. “You look like you break easily.”

I see him lick his bottom lip and I swear I hear a slight groan in his throat. He then lowers his voice so only I can hear.

“You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Akasha. I tend to play rough with my things. Sometimes they break and sometimes they…turn to ash in my clutch.”

Excitement licks my veins as I inhale his scent.

Mmm it’s mixed with sweet, spice and arousal.

“Sounds like a threat, and a fun time. Maybe…” I lean in close to his ear, as he leans in to hear me. “…I can teach you how to play with your toys nicely by making you my new toy. Would you like that, Qi?” I flick my tongue against his ear and I hear a deep groan vibrate from his chest.

He’s about to answer me but Osha/Mae clears her throat and I feel both Qi and myself glare at her.

I look away and take a deep breath. “How about you talk to her and I’ll be back for my things. I have something to grab on that list that I know you don’t have here.” Before he can stop me I leave the shop and place my hood back upon my head.

••••

“I need Daroon moss for my special powder. Maybe if I’m lucky I can find some on the outer banks of this place.” I mutter as I continue to walk further into a crowd but my muscles tense as I feel I’m being followed.

Who would be stupid enough to follow me?

I decide to cut the chase short and duck further into the crowd.

They continue to follow me and that’s when I notice his scent.

The sweet spicy arousal.

I slip into an alleyway and I stand there counting as his scent get closer. That smell. If I were an addict, I would beg for a hit of that scent on a daily.

As soon as he is in arms reach I snatch him in close then push him to the ground. I then quickly take my boot and press it firmly against his throat.

“I don’t know about your other customers but I don’t like to be followed around stores or crowds.” I press down with a bit more pressure, just so he can answer me.

He winces in pain. “S….sorry. But I did…tell you I wanted…to finish this.” I go to step down harder but he grabs my ankle and twists, causing me to lose my footing.

He then pins me under him and I feel his full weight on top of me. “Get off of me.” I hiss. “Not until we finish this, conversation.”

“This conversation is over!“ I scream at him. He looks deep into my eyes and he gives me a wicked grin. “I’m sorry, but you seem to still think you have control of this situation. When clearly I’m the one on top. But I’ll be nice. The conversation will end after I tell you this…I’ve decided that I want you to be my new toy. And when I want something I take it.” I see a flash of something wild in his eyes as I feel his hands go for my throat.

His strength takes me by surprise as he starts cutting off my air supply. “Let…me…go!” I scream knowing it’ll cause at least someone to come find out why I’m screaming.

But…

No one comes.

Not even a curious onlooker.

He squeezes tighter and I try my best to fight him off. But it’s like an animal is wearing his skin and attacking me. I can feel him clearly aroused as he chokes me out on the ground.

Wait no, it can’t end this way.

I can’t die this way underneath this sick son of a bitch.

My vision starts to blacken around the corners. Qimir slowly starts to fog up into darkness, and just when I’m about to pass out, I hear him say these haunting words to me.

“You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for, Akasha, why would I ever let you go?”

•••••

I jerk awake and cough to clear my throat. I go to move except my body is tied up. But in a way that makes me look spread out like some attraction.

I glance around and see I’m somewhere unknown. And I’m completely naked. The panic starts to set in but it stops as soon as I smell his scent.

“QIMIR!” I scream his name as my eyes try to look for him. “I know you’re near! I can smell you! Show yourself!” I scream, in hopes that someone will hear me.

Someone did…

He did…

“I see you’re awake. Good.” Qimir says with a soft smile on his face. “What the fuck is going on! Where am I? Why and I here!” I shout at him, ignoring the cutting sensation from the ropes.

He pulls up a chair and sits down right in front of me. He stares at me as if I didn’t just ask him a barrage of questions. “You know you are a heavy sleeper. It was like I was dragging a dead body in here. Oh! This is my place by the way. It’s on a remote island so no one can disturb us.” He smiles big as if kidnapping me was something to be proud of.

“Why am I here?” I spat at him. Qimir looks at me as if I’m a piece of art to be gawked at. The way the ropes bite into my skin, I know they’ll leave marks and burns.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re here because I want you here.” He brushes his thumb against his bottom lip and continues to stare…study me. I begin to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Why am I tied up like this? I’m not some prized piece of meat!” He leans forward and strokes his hand against the fatty flesh of my thigh. “Because you look pretty….You are a female Venus Fly. Rare even when your people were alive and thriving. What was the ratio? For every fifteen boys, only three girls would be born. And I do like to collect rare things. But you? You, Akasha not only are you rare but you’re deadly. I have great use for you.”

I give him a bewildered look. “You’re fucking craz-” He gets up knocking the chair over and he had his hand gripping my jaw. “Don’t call me that, I’m not crazy. I see we have to start some lessons on teaching you how to have manners and respect for others.”

“GET OFF OF ME YOU BASTARD!” I scream at him, but all he does is smile. “You know now you’re screaming and yelling but soon you’ll worship me like a God. And I’ll be sure to reward you.” He takes his other hand and he trails his three fingers down my bare flesh, slowly getting closer to my exposed pussy.

“Stop.” I say as I feel him near my pubic hairs. “Do you know how much restraint I had to have, tying you up like this? The temptation I had to open this pretty little thing and slide anything it in just to watch your reaction?” He parts my wet lips and I feel my clit spasm.

“You wanted to sodomize me? You’re no better than-“ He makes me eat my words when he slides his middle finger inside of me while he uses his other two fingers to rub my lips.

My body responds to his touch which makes me angry. “S…stop.” I stutter to him. He leans in close to my ear. “Your lips are telling me to stop but these sets of lips seem to be telling me another story. As a matter of fact, how about her and I get better acquainted.”

Qimir slides his finger out of me and my pussy misses the violation. I see him get on his knees for me and he looks up at me, as if I’m a deity of some sort and he’s is there to worship.

I watch him lean in close to inhale my sex and I want to shrink back from him but in my attempts the ropes dig deeper into my skin.

“You smell so sweet, I wonder if the taste is the same.” He leans in and I feel his tongue flicking across my clit.

I clamp my lips shut to keep from moaning but he makes it a challenge as he grips my roped hips and buries his face deep into my pussy.

My eyes roll back as I feel his tongue twirl and flick across my clit. He presses his tongue flat against my pussy and my body tries to rock to find more friction.

“Careful, one false move and you could cause more rope burn, Akasha. But you like a little pain and pleasure don’t you?” Qimir asks as he opens my lips wider and slides his tongue deep inside of me.

This time I let the moan slip out. I feel him smiling against my sex and I don’t care. I need a release. I need to use his face.

“P…please.” I moan out as I look down at him, eating me out. He shakes his head and now he’s only using the tip of his tongue. “If…you…want something…then…say…Master.” He says lazily twirling his tongue.

“Please Master.” I whine. “I need to come.” He gives a deep guttural chuckle. “Look at you, moaning like a bitch in heat. I won’t forgive you for calling me crazy. But I’m not that cruel of a master.” He gives a hard suck to my clit causing me to groan and then he gets up off of his knees.

I was breathing heavy as I watch him grab something from his table.

A light saber.

My body tenses from the memories in my past of how much damage something like that can cause.

He lights it and the hue is blood red. He brings it close to me and I fight the urge to flinch. The heat from the saber could melt even the finest hairs on a person or animals skin.

“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’ll never use this part on you…just this part.” He turns the saber off and flips it so the handle it near me.

“Tell me, will you let me be your master? Will you let me teach you how to be the perfect predator?” As he asks me, I feel him rub the handle of the saber against my swollen clit and I shudder as I stupidly nod.

I don’t say a word from the fear and in his eyes I can tell he knows I’m afraid of the saber. “Akasha…you had a lot to say earlier. Why aren’t you being so colorful with your words now?” He slides the handle in slowly causing my eyes to roll back but my body stiffens again.

“Does this scare you? Does this give you pleasure?” He strokes the handle against my entrance and I let a nod go. “Pl-”

“Ah, what do you say?”

“Master…please. Don’t do that.” I moan out as he slides the handle in slowly. “Don’t do what? Slide the handle of my saber inside of the needy plump pussy? You don’t want me to make you feel good?” He whispers against my ear as his hand finds my throat.

The fear I have gets clouded when starts to slowly fuck me with the saber. I feel the build up in my lower stomach as I moan.

“See? Your body likes to feel good. It likes when I do this, but imagine how it’s going to feel when I use the real thing. When my cock is penetrating deep into your walls.”

He goes faster and my moans become more lose my from lips. My thighs burn from the rope and from the tension I have in them.

You can hear the wet noises coming from my soaking wet slit and I don’t care. I want a release.

“You’re taking it so well, my little flower. I bet you want to come don’t you?” I nod quickly as he slows down the pace. I try to buck my hips but I can’t from my restricting position. He raises a brow at me then. “Yes! Yes I do Master. Please!” I beg and plead.

He loosens his grip on my throat and he fucks me harder with the saber making my climax about to hit the tipping point.

“I’m gonna come.” I breathe out as I feel the anticipated tingle. But he stops, he yanks the saber out and tosses it across the room and I give out a shriek of frustration.

“Now would a crazy person deny a creature such as yourself the pleasure of coming? Don’t answer that, you might tell me the wrong answer and piss me off-” He grabs me by my tangled curls and yanks my head back, causing the rope around my shoulders and shoulder blades to tighten.

“You belong to me now, Akasha. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence is mine. And when I see fit to let you come, it will be on my cock, my mouth, or my fingers. Do you understand? You can speak.” He orders as he looks me in my eyes.

“Yes.” I say through clenched teeth. “Yes what?” He asks with a raised brow. “Yes master…”

“Good girl.” He lets me go and kisses my temple. “Get some rest, we have some training to do tomorrow.” He lets me go and simply walks away, leaving me strung up like some prize that’s been won.

The very second I get the chance, I’m going to kill Qimir. I should’ve known that his scent would lead me to the devils playpen…

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[entitled-fangirl]

I know you made her your riduur.

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Din finds his little clan held captive by Moff Gideon with the Darksaber. He intends to do anything to get them back.

Warnings: kidnapping, mention of blood, fighting, threatening

Author's note: I'm a huge sucker for protective Din, so any requests of that is more than fine by me...

Masterlist

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The door slid open to a sight Din never wanted to see.

Moff Gideon held the dark saber above the Mandalorian's clan.

Y/N and Grogu.

The two were in cuffs, the child in the woman's lap.

When she saw the familiar beskar, she let out a breath of relief, "…Mando…"

He stepped through the doorway slowly with his blaster pointed at the man. But he knew it did no good.

"Drop the blaster." Moff Gideon commanded.

When Din hesitated, Gideon lowered the blade closer to the woman's head. 

The soft white glow from the saber illuminated the woman and child's faces, only spotlighting their concern gazes on the Mandalorian.

But Din could barely see it through the red anger that was clouding his vision.

"…Slowly."

Din obeyed, setting the blaster on the hard metal floor.

Y/N shifted in her chair, "Don't… please."

But Din didn't care. 

As much as her frail voice made his stomach drop, he would do anything to guarantee that he could keep hearing her voice forever.

Even if that means surrendering.

"Now kick it over to me."

And Din did so. He pointed to his family, "Give me the kid and the girl."

"They are just fine where they are."

Just to tease the beskar-wearing warrior, Moff Gideon menacingly brushed the blade back and forth, mere inches from the girl's head.

She grimaced slightly, looking down at the child.

Moff Gideon didn't care to even look at them, "Mesmerizing, isn't it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan. Oh, yes. I know you've been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume that I know everything."

Din shifted his weight to his other leg, as he contemplated what to do.

"Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo. And that only two weeks ago did you make this pretty girl your riduur."

Din's voice hardened through the modulator, not only tired of the situation, but angered by the mention his weaknesses. "Where is this going?"

"This is where this is going: I'm guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge, seeking me or, more accurately, this." He held the saber up. "See, but I'm not there. And I imagine that they've killed everyone on the bridge, the murderous savages they are. And now, they're beginning to panic.

"You see, she wants this. Do you know why? Because it brings power. Whoever wields this sword… has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne."

Y/N's eyes shift up to Din at this information. She takes note of the light glow that reflects from his armor.

"You keep it." Din says immediately, "I just want the girl and the kid."

Moff Gideon tilts his head in consideration, "Very well. I've already got what I want from the kid. His blood. All I wanted was to study his blood. This child is extremely gifted and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy."

Din finally lets his gaze move to the woman and child. He takes notes of the small cut on Y/N's cheek, the unshed tears that sit in her eyes. The child seems unscathed enough, but his eyes are just as saddened as the girls.

"I see your bond with the child," Gideon continues. "Take them."

Din steps forward.

Moff Gideon's voice becomes low, "But you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways."

Din nodded, moving to his little clan.

Gideon stepped forward to let the Mandalorian do so.

When his gloved hands connected with Y/N's, Gideon ignited the saber, swinging it right into Din's back.

Y/N had never been more thankful that Din wore beskar. 

He grunted at the impact, immediately blocking the next swing with his armored arms.

He managed to get the battle away from the two hostages as he lured Moff Gideon into the hallway. 

As much as Y/N wanted to help, she knew she was in no state to do so. And she could help Din the most by protecting the child.

She stood up with him in her arms, moving towards the sound of the saber hitting beskar.

She stayed in the doorway, watching the two fight.

Finally, Din got the upper hand and kept his spear pointed at the defeated Moff Gideon who slouched on the ground.

The dark saber had been thrown from his hands, and now resided on the floor near Y/N. She hesitantly picked it up and pocketed it.

"You're sparing my life? Well," Moff Gideon smiled, "This should be interesting."

Din took a moment to remember the girl and child. He turned to see them standing in the hall a few feet back. He motioned them towards him.

Y/N immediately walked to him.

Din managed to get the cuffs off both of them, and only then did he relax.

His hand wandered to Y/N's cheek, lightly grazing over the cut there.

She leaned into his touch, "You came for us…"

"Of course I did. I made vows to you, and I intend to keep them." He lets his eyes wander down her frame, "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, hugging the child to her, "We're just fine. Are you… are you alright?"

His helmet moved just barely in a nod, "I'm alright now."

She smiled, reaching into her pocket with the arm that didn't hold the child to retrieve the saber. "Here…"

If only she could've seen his own matching smile under his helmet, "Thank you, cyare."

He turned back to Moff Gideon, letting his voice harden once more to the warrior he was, "Let's go."

And just like that, Y/N felt safe next to the man who would kill anything that stood in his way.

.........................................................................