#Praetorian Jack / Reader

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Sneaking Through The Citadel To Meet With Jack

Praetorian Jack X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Suggestive themes, steam, lots of kissing, basically over 1,000 words of pure self indulgence (no I'm not sorry)

Word Count: 1.4k

(A/N:) I went to go see Furiosa Friday....now I'm obsessed! Especially one character in particular, so I had to write something for him! Cause I have no control over what the idea worms bring to eat at my spastic brain! So fellow fangirls that watched Furiosa please enjoy this little indulgent creation of mine! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Mild spoilers below!!

The sun setting behind the rocky horizon of the Wasteland's left a dusky orange haze painting The Citadel. Majority of the residences were beginning to settle down for the evening, except for several War Boys taking the first watch of the evening. You waited patiently in a darkening alcove, pressed tightly against the wall. The thin clothing you had to wear barely fought back the chill and the terror of getting caught had you fighting shivers and breathing softly. Getting caught wasn't an option as it would have you in serious trouble all around. Not just for yourself but the man you were sneaking around for. His death would be inevitable if he was spotted with you. A couple War Boys walked by, talking about the possibility of heading out to battle soon. You sucked in a breath, pressing further against the wall. They walked by, not even giving a glance in your direction. This was the hardest part, waiting for the darkness to deepen so you could further make your way out of the well guarded halls.

While the whole place had started to settle hours ago, you didn't move until you knew the moon was high in the sky and the watchmen had become lax in their duties. Not many people were stupid enough to challenge Immortan Joe, so the War Boy's didn't take the night watch seriously. On light bare feet you stuck close to the shadows and quickly made your way to a hidden part of The Citadel. Your heart hammered in your chest and you clutched at your fluttering wrap. Though you had done this several times, you just knew you'd eventually get caught and thrown out into the horrible outside world. Then mere moments passed, though it felt like a lifetime, you squeezed into a hidden opening of an abandoned alcove. You sighed in relief when hands wrapped around you, one on your hip the other across your mouth. Your muffled surprise was silenced when you caught a familiar glimpse of dark hair and a scarred lip.

"Don't do that," you seethed when Jack removed his hand.

"Always so nervous," he chuckled sitting back against the cold natural stones.

"You know what happens if we get caught," you glared. Jack just shrugged and you huffed.

Praetorian Jack, The Citadel's greatest warrior and the man who kept the War Rig running. His team was known as the best and all the War Boys fought for a chance to ride for him. He was the first man to show you an ounce of kindness when you arrived at The Citadel. Sold to Immortan Joe in exchange for food, the man who you thought loved you, dumped you at his feet and never looked back. Being barren saved you from the fate of one of his wives, you found yourself doing any chores that was deemed worthy of your station. Thrown to the feet of Jack, you had become his problem for a short while until you were drug to another part of The Citadel for other tasks. That short time with the quiet gruff man had something grow between you, hence the sneaking to see one another.

Jack offered out his hand, knowing that you were losing yourself within horrible memories and he worried about you. These were the few times that made life worth living. You shook your head taking his offered hand and he lead you closer to him. You sat down between his legs, resting your back against his warm chest. He had forgone his leather jacket, leaving his rough clothing to catch against your linen garments. His presence and scent also soothing your nerves, as he held your hand, rubbing the top of your hand. His hands calloused and scarred but tender and kind. His nose brushing against the back of your neck, leaving you shivering. He kissed you gently, careful not to leave any marks. You leaned in backwards, staring up at him. Jack gave you a small smile, kissing your forehead causing you to giggle quietly. His fingers tangling with yours, he pressed another kiss to your forehead, before his stare became heated. You sat still letting him litter you with attention. He kissed your temple, cupping your cheek as he kissed your nose, cheek, before pausing above your lips. Your head still leaned back he took in your features before capturing your lips in an searing kiss. The upside down kiss awkward, but making your bare toes curl.

He released you to turn you around, slipping you back down onto his lap your legs wrapped around his waist. Cupping your cheeks with both hands, he pulled you back into his embrace. His stubble scratching against your soft skin, but you sighed into his mouth, your arms resting on his shoulders as you played with the long dirty strands of his hair. Jack deepened his kiss, tasting you in a more passionate way. You melted, unable to keep yourself upright. He released your cheeks, wrapping strong arms around your body and holding you tightly against his body. Air became a necessity too quickly and it had you both parting against each other. Warm puffs of air brushing against your wet and kiss swollen lips, Jack pressed his forehead against yours. You traced his features, your fingers soft against his rough face. He shivered in delight kissing and nipping at the digits. When he pulled away, he noticed some of his remaining war grease had smudged against your forehead. He licked his thumb cleaning it away.

"I don't want this to end," you said.

"Maybe one day it doesn't have to," Jack replied.

You stared at him with a curious look. He lost himself, staring at you deeply. You were an oasis in the desert. No amount of fighting and driving could give him a jolt of adrenaline like you did. It was these few stolen moments that he truly lived for. He didn't care what Immortan Joe wanted, if it gave him you then he would do whatever it took. He remembered those tearful fearful eyes of yours, when the War Boys had thrown you at his feet. You had lost everything and you didn't know what to expect. But when he held out that dirty, blood drenched hand you took it. Raising yourself from the floor and then it ended for Jack. He had to protect you and learn more from you. Your story, like everyone else's was filled with sadness and tragedy. He longed to make you forget all the horrible and hard times. And these fleeting times, hidden away from the watchful eyes of The Citadel and it's overlord he got to make that promise come to fruition. Stolen kisses, quiet sighs, and warm embraces. It was all here, that oasis for his soul.

"I will find away to save you," he promised. But he didn't want you to answer, to protest. So he kissed you, hard, fiercely, silencing any protests immediately. You held tightly, trying to keep up as Jack laid you gently back onto the stones. You threaded your fingers through his hair. He was all you could see, all that mattered as he leaned over you. Releasing you once more he laid down beside you. Tucking you into his side so you both could look up at the stars. A dusty haze always above your heads, but not enough to darken the night sky. You reached up, like you could scoop them up. Jack slid his hand up your arm his hand cupping the back of yours as his fingers also reached to the sky. Like you both could grab destiny together that played amongst the stars. You pulled your gaze from up above, looking towards the gentle man beside you.

"Let's save each other," you replied with conviction.

"You already have," Jack held on tighter. You searched for any sign that he said that just to make you feel better, only to see truth staring you in the face. You grasped his hand pulling it down to your chest. He felt your heartbeat thundering against your chest and Jack knew that he would give up anything to protect that kind heart. He held on tightly, not wanting to let any second pass him by in your presence. Even when time ran out and you both had to part ways, he held you against him. Taking you with him no matter where he was. And every time he looked up at the sky he could see you gazing back at him. You pushed him onwards and you held your ground. Knowing that the promised moments together were worth fighting for.

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : III]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: Once, your mother told you that dreams are messages from the deep. This time, you dreamed of a terrifying future—your own death.

Status: work in progress (This is a long fanfic that will be about 10+ chapters.)

A/N : For this chapter, I was inspired by Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024), particularly the nightmare scene. I find it incredibly romantic and beautiful (without any sexual elements)

So that's it, close enough, welcome back furiosa and praetorian jack LOL

➡  Intro // EP : I // EP : II // EP : IV // EP : V // EP : VI // EP : VII

[Episodes 3] Dreams Are Messages From The Deep

Tonight, you dream, and it is far from a pleasant one.

Once, your mother told you that dreams are messages from the deep, the mysteries of the universe, akin to precognition. But dreams are often uncertain, uncontrollable, and unpredictable. like omens or cryptic hints of what is yet to come, they are puzzles you must piece together yourself.

You see it again: the puzzles of fateful catastrophes and the unclear path of the future. Corpses are strewn across the floors of spacecraft and the ground. The dream flashes between these scenes, intertwining them as one, despite being at different times and places. You know it all means something—these deaths are all the work of the same person.

And then you encounter it...the embodiment of the dark shadow that has haunted you in your dreams for months.

Before, everything was shrouded in impenetrable darkness, like staring into the abyss where nothing could be seen but an endless void. But this time, the dream is different. Beneath the shadows, you begin to see the figure of that person—a tall, imposing figure dressed in a sleeveless black cloak that blends seamlessly with the surrounding darkness. His face is hidden behind a cracked metal helmet, with a terrifyingly wide grin etched across the lower half.

A familiar yet strange feeling stirs as you gaze at him, and beneath that thick mask, where no eyes are visible, you know he’s staring back at you.

A Jedi? That’s your first thought. But the red lightsaber in his right hand says otherwise. No, this is a Sith.

Suddenly, something within you screams, warning you to flee.

You instinctively start running, but you never get far. The energy around you envelops you, pushing you back into the darkness. You see his hand raised, drawing you in effortlessly. The lightsaber is gone now. It’s no longer needed. With just one hand, he could kill you easily, like crushing an insect.

In an instant, his strong hand is around your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. Your eyes widen in terror, unable to breathe, as the blackness of death moves closer, leaving a whisper deeply embedded in your consciousness.

"I told you, you can't run away from me."

You scream and struggle, refusing to surrender, desperately searching for any way to survive.

Then you feel the cold steel of a blade in your hand, and instinctively, you know this is your only chance. Without hesitation, you lift the knife and thrust its sharp point toward his throat, determined to kill him before he kills you.

But your flickering hope extinguishes just as quickly when he catches your hand mid-strike. His deep, menacing laughter sends a shiver down your spine, and in that moment, you realize—this is yet another failure leading you toward your death.

And then, you wake up.

The knife is still in your hand, just like in the dream. But now, you're in your bedroom, not on a spaceship. There's no blood, no death, and before you is not the mysterious Sith but Qimir, his hand gripping yours tightly, the blade barely a hair's breadth away from his throat.

His expression is calm, composed, a stark contrast to your own, pale and shaken. "You had a nightmare," he says softly, gently easing the knife from your grasp. "Go back to sleep."

His voice is soothing and tender, gradually dispelling the lingering fear from the nightmare as your racing heartbeat slowly returns to a steady rhythm. Almost as if in a trance, you do as he says. You allow him to guide you back onto the bed, his hands warm and reassuring as they touch your face, lulling you back into the realm of sleep.

This time, you don’t dream at all.

Qimir isn’t joking when he says he will teach you.

He starts with the smallest details, such as distinguishing between dangerous and harmless people. "You wouldn’t want to pickpocket someone who could kill you, would you?" Qimir remarks, pointing out a dark-skinned man blending into the crowd with tattered clothes, his body concealed under a cloak. Yet, you can still glimpse a large scar on his upper arm. "That’s a bounty hunter. His gun is hidden under the cloak. These guys are quick. He’d shoot you before you could even touch his pocket." It is astonishing how Qimir can discern such details just by observing a person’s gait or how they carry their belongings.

The next lesson is about disguise—how to blend in so seamlessly that no one could ever recognize you. "You’ve done well so far in hiding yourself, but it’s not good enough to fool me," he says. His words seem mocking, but you can’t deny their truth. "You can’t spend your whole life running and hiding. The key is to accept who you are before you start lying about it. A lie can never become the truth, but you can learn to live with it."

"You talk like you’ve done this many times before," you retort, unable to resist teasing him. Yet deep down, you are curious too. He knows too much and is too skilled—as if he has intimate experience with such matters.

But Qimir doesn’t answer your question. He simply smiles at you. For a moment, you are slightly taken aback. His smile seems oddly familiar, as if you have seen it before, but you can’t quite place when or where.

"Let the lies be a part of you, but never let them consume who you are. No matter where you are or what role you pretend to play, never forget your true self."—This is the essence of Qimir's teachings, beyond the various techniques and tricks of disguise he has revealed to you.

There is a subtle weight in his words, something that hints at more than just instruction.

The last thing Qimir chooses to teach you, and what you find most difficult, is the art of combat—both armed and unarmed.

It isn’t that you have never learned to fight before. Alongside rigorous mental training, your mother also taught you how to use a knife. "Our lineage is one of fighters. A knife is like a part of our body. We fight from cradle to grave. If you can't wield a knife, you’ve wasted your heritage." Your mother’s words echo vividly in your memory as you twirl the knife in your hand, trying to recall and review the lessons you learned long ago.

"What are you waiting for?" Qimir’s voice snaps you back to the present. "Just holding a knife won’t make you win."

You look up to see him standing in the open field outside the quarters. Qimir looks different today, dressed in white instead of his usual dark colors. His shoulder-length hair, usually a wild mess, is neatly tied back into a tight ponytail. A challenging smile plays on his lips as he raises his right hand, brandishing a short knife, ready for battle at any moment.

You step toward Qimir cautiously, your bare feet feeling the rough earth and stones beneath you. The muscles in your body are fully alert, a reflex honed from the countless times you have been trained.

Yet none of your previous lessons have prepared you for a face-to-face fight with Qimir.

Qimir’s lessons are nothing like your mother’s. There is no compromise, no leniency, despite the fact that you are just a small woman. Every move he makes is forceful, direct, brutal, and potentially lethal if he truly intends to kill you.

Qimir strikes first; his attacks are relentless and unyielding. You barely manage to dodge, feeling the rush of air from his arm sweep past your face. The sharp blade grazes the tips of your black hair, sending strands fluttering to the ground, where they land like droplets of blood.

You retaliate, thrusting your knife toward his ribs and abdomen, but Qimir blocks each attack with ease. The clash of metal rings out, sending shocks through your wrist up to your shoulder, the pain forcing you to grimace.

Both of you pull back, sweat beading on your faces, eyes locked in mutual assessment. You swallow hard, slowly circling to the side, seeking an opening that wouldn’t leave you vulnerable.

Qimir’s strength is his advantage, but yours is speed. You know that the longer this drags on, the worse off you’ll be. You have to act quickly and decisively—one swift, precise move is the only way to defeat him.

This time, you let Qimir come close, allowing him to initiate the attack. You twist your body to evade his knife, all the while searching for the perfect moment to strike back. The pressure from his relentless assault closes in on your thoughts, triggering your survival instincts. You love life. You don’t want to die, and you will not surrender easily.

You are cornered, and a cornered animal will do anything to survive.

Quick as thought, in the split second, Qimir is preparing his next attack. You flip the knife in your hand, aiming straight for his throat.

But then, everything changes. The scene before you shifts abruptly, overlaying itself with the dream from the night before. The sunlit ground turns into an endless void of darkness, and Qimir transforms into the mysterious masked man from your dream. You plunge your knife toward his throat, just as you did in the dream, and he catches your wrist with the same speed as before. The sound of mocking laughter fills your ears—cold and terrifying.

Fear surges within you as you once again face the hopeless truth—there is no way you can defeat him.

The vision ends abruptly as you lose your balance. The next thing you know, Qimir throws you to the ground with all his strength. Your back hits the earth hard before his towering frame pins you down completely. The sharp edge of his knife presses against your delicate throat, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to cause pain.

"You are distracted. If this were a real fight, you’d be dead by now."

He lifts the knife away but doesn’t move from above you. One of his hands brushes the disheveled hair from your face as he peers into your ink-blue eyes. "Something’s bothering you. Is it that dream?"

You press your lips together, fighting back tears. The lingering fear still clings to your mind, refusing to fade, and suddenly, you feel a surge of vulnerability. "Qimir, I don’t want to die."

Qimir stares at you, blinking in confusion, his expression full of bewilderment. "I haven’t done anything to you."

"You won’t, but others will," your voice trembles, on the verge of tears, yet not a single drop falls. "When you hand me over to those people, I’ll surely die."

Your words make him pause, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features.

He knows it can’t possibly be true. The client who hired through the Bounty Hunters' Guild had specified clearly: they want this woman alive. The client doesn’t care how you are captured, only that you are brought in breathing. This means they have no intention of killing you. In fact, it is likely that you are of some special importance, something too valuable to be lost.

That’s what has piqued his curiosity all along. What makes a seemingly ordinary woman so wanted? What makes you so convinced that you are going to die when nothing points to such a fate?

"Can you tell me why you think you’re going to die?" Qimir asks, his tone unusually serious and firm.

His intense gaze makes your breath catch. Decades of pent-up emotions linger on your lips. You want so badly to tell him everything—about yourself, your family, and your bloodline.

But your mother’s warning remains deeply rooted in your mind and heart. "Never trust anyone. Never reveal our secrets to a soul. Your trust will lead to ruin, not just for you but for everyone."

You close your eyes briefly, deliberately avoiding his penetrating gaze. "I can’t tell you," you whisper, a wave of guilt washing over you.

A heavy silence settles between the two of you, thick and suffocating. For a moment, you feel the intensity in Qimir’s eyes grow stronger, as if he is desperately trying to unearth the truth from you with his gaze alone.

The minutes that pass feel like an eternity. Finally, Qimir rises to his feet and extends his hand to you.

"Don’t worry. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe."

You grasp his hand and push yourself up, feeling the firm, steady warmth of his grip. There is something oddly comforting about it—a strength that almost makes you forget your fears.

You can tell that Qimir is frustrated, though he isn’t the type to yell or complain. On the contrary, whenever something troubles him or when he is dissatisfied, he grows silent, his expression unreadable, almost emotionless. You have spent enough time with him to recognize the signs, and you dislike this side of him intensely. You would almost prefer if he just yelled at you outright.

You remain standing where you are, confusion and turmoil swirling within you as you watch his broad back retreat into the house, disappearing behind the old wooden door.

Deep down, you want to trust him, but you aren’t sure if you can really place your faith in this man.

[1] Though the Bounty Hunters' Guild didn't exist during the High Republic Era, this fan fiction takes creative liberties with canon for storytelling purposes. It's not 100% accurate—just enjoy the read!

[cchickki]

My Fanfic Masterlist

My fanfics through the years from both ao3 and fanfiction.net

thinking about opening requests for some one shots soon! i also have more ideas for some shorter fics, but i want to try and catch up on what i'm already working on first

complete - story is finished

in progress - story is among my wips/currently being worked on

incomplete - not sure if i'll ever finish this story

Image credits for headers: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Thank you all for the support <3

Spiderverse / Marvel

Tomorrow Never Came - Miguel O'Hara x fem reader ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 15/? | rating: M | status: in progress Say Yes to Heaven, Say Yes To Me - Miguel O'Hara x fem reader ao3 | tumblr | chapters: 1/1 | rating: M | status: complete Surprise! - Miguel O'Hara x fem reader ao3 | tumblr | chapters: 2/2 | rating: G | status: complete

HBO War / Band of Brothers

A Woman At War - Donald Malarkey x OC / Floyd Talbert x OC ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 65/65 | rating: T/M | status: complete A Woman At War (Rewritten) - Donald Malarkey x OC / Floyd Talbert x OC ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 12/? | rating: T | status: in progress A Miracle In Bastogne - Eugene Roe / Renee LeMaire ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 6/6 | rating: T | status: complete Embedded - Nate Fick x OC (Generation Kill) ao3 |ff.net | chapters: 3/? | rating: M | status: incomplete

Uncharted (video game series)

Crossing Paths - Sam Drake x OC ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 21/21 | rating: T/M | status: complete Crossing Paths Part II - Sam Drake x OC / Nadine Ross x Chloe Frazer ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 2/? | rating: T/M | status: in progress Crossing Paths AU Libertalia - Sam Drake x OC / Rafe Adler x OC ao3 | chapters: 1/? | rating: T | status: in progress

Mass Effect

Beyond the Deep - Kaidan Alenko x (Custom) Fem Shep ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 11/? | rating: M | status: in progress

More Stories (misc)

Movies

Serenity - Shu Lien x Mu Bai (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 1/1 | rating: G/K | status: complete Ameliorate - Furiosa x Praetorian Jack (Mad Max) series ao3 | parts: 3/3(?) | rating: T/M | status: in progress

Video Games

Rage Against the Dying of the Light - Astarion x Tav (BG3) ao3 | chapters: 3/7 | rating: M | status: in progress it would feel like this - Gale x Tav (BG3) ao3 | chapters: 1/1 | rating: E | status: complete The Ugly Truth - Ellie Williams (The Last of Us) ff.net | chapters: 1/1 | rating: M | status: complete A Grim Prognosis - Genji Shimada x Angela "Mercy" Ziegler (Overwatch) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 3/? | rating: T | status: incomplete

Television Shows

Hallelujah - Charlotte "Charly" Weiss x Wilhelm Winter (Generation War/ Unsere Mütter, Unsere Väter) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 4/? | rating: T | status: incomplete Run, Girl, Run - Roman Godfrey x OC (Hemlock Grove) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 3/? | rating: T | status: incomplete Joanne - John Shelby x OC (Peaky Blinders) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 8/? | rating: T | status: in progress?

[ladyinbooks]

Love your writing! Rereading the icarus world right now, such a pleasure. Some questions: Would you say that samiel is a service top? Also, do you see yourself writing any more one shots in the tales of the interior circle? I really enjoyed that vibe, and a good hair pull. I also was wondering if you saw any story taking place in elysium? After re-reading, I am also super curious about the preats (sp?) it seems like the place for some soul bond x crime fic? Thank you for all ur writing!!!!!

Hi Anon,

Thank you so much! ❤❤ I'm so pleased you enjoy my fic ramblings. (And re-reading IB? I'm honoured! 😊)

These are great questions, thank you! (I've popped them behind the cut, because as usual I ended up rambling!)

In regards to your first question, I think yes, Samiel is kind of a service top. A lot of his psyche is about being a people-pleaser for a very specific set of people (i.e. Jay). In slightly more depth, I think wanting to please is also a dynamic that has been built into him from a very young age (thanks to his background with his aunt, and then his duties as a Severne). It's his way of showing devotion, and loyalty. And now that focus is entirely fixated on Jay, it absolutely results in service top behaviour. That man follows orders, and he definitely enjoys it in the right circumstances!

Similarly, I think there is a lot of him that's wrapped up in being possessive (especially when it comes to Jay), because he's so terrified of losing what he has. I think what that results in is a willingness to please, but also to make his mark. Hence, I agree with your assessment that he's a service top, even as he's just that little bit too possessive. (Jay is, I think, a switch in terms of physical positions, but is fully aware that Samiel's perhaps not quite ready to entirely let go of being the one possessing, pleasing and caring, so a change in physical positions has never really come up. Equally, I think Jay would be reluctant to let go of his control completely, and I think both he and Samiel thoroughly enjoy the aspect of Jay essentially looking after Samiel and ordering him about a bit.)

Sadly, I think 'Tales of the Interior Circle' is finished. I left it on the chapter I always intended to, because I think for me that was the closure of Samiel and Jay's main story.

That said, Samiel and Jay are going to pop up as side characters in another fic I have planned, and (thanks to InkBubble's influence), there's going to be a 'Tales of the Exterior Circle'. Which, I am sure, will include the pair of them in some capacity. I am also very willing to say 'never say never', because honestly on any given day, Samiel and Jay are lurking somewhere in my head! (And I'm glad you liked the vibe and a good hair pull! What can I say? Samiel is a man with specific tastes!)

Anon, I have to ask you a question: are you a mind reader? Be honest! 😉 Because yes, the criminal underworld!fic I've been rambling about most definitely includes Elysium, the Praetorians (Praets), a soul bond and crime! It's centred around Jack Williams (we met him briefly in a side fic), and I'm hoping you'll enjoy it!

Thank you for your great questions - it's been so much fun answering these!