#Star Wars oneshots

[triptuckers]

undercover - captain rex

Request: nope Pairing:  captain rex x reader (reader has long hair) Summary:  you're sent undercover to get an important data stick from a separatist leader Warnings:  mentions of blood, injuries Word count:  1.8K A/N: give me PINING rex he needs to be YEARNING. love me a pixel man. enjoy reading!

it's an easy mission. a very important one, but it seemed rather easy. anakin's briefing was short as well.

one of the separatist leaders had a data stick with important information about a few new secret bases. they thought it was so important, that the separatist kept the data stick on him at all times.

which is where you came in.

there was a popular summer festival coming up on the separatist's home planet. your job was to go there, have fun, talk with the separatist and steal the data stick.

to avoid attracting too much attention, only anakin and captain rex accompanied you. the three of you arrived via public shuttle, dressed in civilian clothes.

you had traveled to the festival and separated once you got closer.

and now anakin and rex are hiding on the edge of a mountain ridge, looking out over the festival terrain, waiting for you to show up.

rex is glad he's not wearing his full armour for once, because the planet is extremely hot.

'general.' says rex after a while. 'isn't she going to stand out? they're going to notice a jedi general attending a festival.'

while they'd all worn civilian clothes while traveling, your clothes had still resembled jedi robes a little. you claimed you felt more comfortable that way. and if rex could recognise them as "kind of jedi robes", then surely the festival crowd could recognise it as well?

'well, then it's a good thing she won't look like a jedi general.' says anakin.

as if on cue, you enter the festival. rex looks at you through his scope, and anakin was right. you don't look like a jedi general. you look like a girl who is excited to have a good time at a festival. and you had changed your outfit.

you're now wearing a blue skirt that reaches your calves, and it's fluttering in the hot summer breeze. a tight fitting black top and a pair of comfortable shoes finish up your outfit. no jedi robes, no armour. but what catches rex off guard is your hair.

normally, you wear it tied up in several buns or braids, saying it was annoying if it got in your face all the time. after all, you're moving around a lot during battle. but you wouldn't cut if off, you loved your long hair.

now it flows freely down your shoulders and back, and it moves in the wind and shines in the sunlight.

rex knows you're off limits. you're a general, he's a captain. you could be thrown out of the order, he could be removed from duty - or worse.

so he's kept his mouth shut all this time.

but seeing you like this, no armour or weapons or a concentrated frown on your face. your hair and skirt moving in the wind. rex has never had to hold himself back so much. to stop himself from staring at you so many times.

meanwhile, more and more people have joined the festival terrain and the music has gotten louder.

anakin and rex keep an eye on you as you dance and laugh and have a good time in the valley below. they watch you as you approach the separatist leader and laugh this jokes and touch his arm, pulling him to the dance floor.

it sparks a flame of jealousy in rex's chest. that separatist leader with his girl.

no, not his girl.

a respected general of the GAR. one of his superior officers. who is now on an important undercover mission.

still, rex doesn't like watching you and the separatist leader.

after a while, the separatist leader has had enough of the dancing, and orders a few drinks. you sit with him and talk, leaning in close as you're listening to him.

because rex had been watching you so closely, he notices the exact moment when you swipe the data stick from him.

but you don't leave immediately, that would have been suspicious. a couple more minutes pass before you get up and head back to the dance floor. without the separatist this time.

just as rex is looking at you slowly making your way to the exit, the separatist yells out that someone has stolen something from him. anakin and rex hear how he shouts for a girl in a blue skirt.

given that your cover is blown, you give up trying to blend in with the crowd. you run away from the festival as fast as you can, heading towards the meeting point anakin told you to go to if things went wrong.

it's still hot, and within minutes you're sweaty and out of breath as you make your way up to the mountain ridge. but you won't tell yourself to slow down til you've put enough distance between yourself and the festival.

you're running uphill and just as you round the corner of a large boulder, you smack into something solid. before you can defend yourself, a pair of hands grabs your shoulders to stop you.

you look up into anakin's familiar eyes.

'got it.' you say, still out of breath, handing him the data stick. 'let's get out of here.'

you start to move past anakin, but you're stopped again. this time, by rex.

'general, your leg.' he says.

you look down and see your blue skirt is stained with red. you frown. in the crowd and while you were running away, you hadn't noticed you got hit by something. so it probably wasn't too bad.

'I'm fine.' you say. 'I hardly feel it, let's just get out of here quickly while we still have a head start .'

anakin eyes the amount of blood on your skirt, then looks behind you at the festival.

'no, you'll lose more blood and slow us down.' he says. 'rex, bind her leg. quickly.'

'yes, sir.' says rex.

'it's fine.' you say.

'rex, bind her leg. that's an order.' says anakin, with a slightly playful look in his eyes. you all know rex won't refuse a direct order from his general.

rex looks at you. 'sorry general. general's orders.' he says.

'what if I outrank anakin?' you say.

'do you?' says rex.

'rex.' says anakin, a little more firmly this time.

rex clears his throat and steps closer to you, then crouches down. he pulls out a knife and looks up at you.

'I'll need to cut a piece of your skirt so I can use it to bind your leg.' he says.

'yeah, go ahead.' you say.

rex carefully cuts a strip of fabric from the bottom of your skirt, then puts his knife away. he briefly looks up at you and silently asks permission before he slides your skirt upwards, til it reaches just above the cut on your thigh.

'hold it there, please.' he says.

you take a hold of your skirt and your other hand comes down to rest on rex's shoulder for balance as you take the weight off of your injured leg.

as you feel rex's gloved fingers on your thigh, you clench your teeth to keep yourself from looking down at him. you're fully aware anakin is standing right next to you, keeping an eye on the path in case separatists would show up. you wished anakin wasn't here.

you feel how rex wraps the piece of fabric around your thigh.

'this is going to hurt.' rex warns.

'I can-'

you're cut off by rex pulling the knot tight and a sharp pain shoots through your leg.

on instinct, you groan rex's name, your fingers digging into his shoulder. rex tries to ignore you saying his name like that, and focuses on securing the piece of fabric in place.

rex gives the knot a small tug, and when it stays in place, he stands again. your hand falls from his shoulder and you drop your skirt, which is now knee length instead of reaching your calves.

'thanks.' you say.

rex nods. 'you're welcome.'

'we need to move.' says anakin. 'they would have heard that if they were close.'

you nod and the three of you start your way back to the shuttle bay. rex occasionally helps you climb over rocks, to make sure you don't put more pressure on your injured leg.

when you get to the shuttle, you quickly board it and take a seat near the back of the craft. anakin takes off his jacket so you can wrap it around your waist, hiding the biggest part of your blood stained skirt.

the way back to anakin's flagship isn't that long, but you start to get tired nonetheless. it's probably due to the blood loss, you think. you know if you close your eyes, it's a bad sign, so you stay awake by focusing on rex's presence next to you. you can feel his shoulder against yours.

when you get to anakin's ship, he goes to inform the other jedi masters the mission was a success while rex escorts you to medbay.

one of your arms is over his shoulder while his other arm is around your waist, given that your energy has drained since running away from the festival.

'thanks.' you say, as you and rex walk though the halls of the ship.

'for what?' says rex.

'being a literal shoulder to lean on.'

'you would have done the same for me, general.'

'you know I prefer it if you call me by my name, rex.'

'and you know I call superior officers by their rank, general.'

maybe it's the blood loss. or the dizziness. or the fact rex is so close. whatever the case, you get a sudden burst of courage.

'is that all I am to you? a superior officer?' you say.

you feel rex briefly stiffen besides you.

'for the sake of my rank, yes.' he says.

you feel anxiety and regret growing in your stomach and think of something to say to change the subject, but rex speaks again. softer, this time.

'for the sake of who I am without this armour and the rank of captain, you're more than just a superior officer, y/n.' he says.

you smile as rex walks you through the doors of medbay.

'I'm glad to hear that.' you say.

rex gently places you on a bed and calls over the chief medical officer. he smiles at you.

'sorry your skirt got ruined.' he says. 'I... liked it.'

'of course you do, it's the color of the 501st.' you say.

rex raises his eyebrows. 'is that why you picked blue?'

you shrug. 'I figured it would look great next to the blue of your armour.'

before rex can answer, the chief medical officer arrives at your bed.

'we'll talk about the mission later, captain.' you say to him, with a quick wink, as the medical officer examines your leg.

rex smiles briefly and nods at you. 'certainly, general.'

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Max/Marit

[kaminokatie]

Valentines Day || Crosshair

Synopsis - You have no Valentines for this years Valentines Day.

Warnings - SFW.

Notes - Cross divider by the talented @stars-n-spice

Word Count - 750.

{Caffeinate Me}

Valentines Day was fast approaching and you had yet to secure yourself a date for the evening. It was hard, afterall. Being in the middle of war didn’t give you many opportunities to find a suitor, especially not when you had your boys to protect. You were currently sitting on the Havoc Marauder, on your way back to Kamino with your squad after the completion of your most recent mission. Hunter looked you up and down, eyebrows knitting together as he sensed your frustration. “What’s wrong Y/N?” He asked, sitting across from you in the cockpit. 

You looked up at him, playing with your fingers and smiling softly before responding, “oh it’s nothing.” 

“It must be something,” Hunter replied, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder gently. 

“I suppose I’m just feeling down,” you responded with a sigh, feeling his gloved hand rest against armour. “Valentine's Day is coming up and I have no date!”

“You celebrate it?” Echo’s voice came from the opposite side of the cockpit. You looked at him with genuine confusion. 

“Yes! You don’t?” 

“We’re soldiers Y/N,” Echo reminded you as he sat in the co-pilot’s chair. “We don’t do Valentine’s Day.” 

You frowned. “That sucks.” The men just shrugged in response, Crosshair's gaze lingering on your form a little longer than usual as he chewed on his toothpick. “You’ve never had a Valentines?”

“It goes against our purpose,” Tech replied, not bothering to look your way. 

“Well,” you said standing up. “This is my first year in a while without a Valentines and I’m upset about itt!”  

“You have more important things to think and worry about now Y/N,” Hunter said sternly forcing you to roll your eyes at him. 

“Yeah yeah,” you waved him off as you continued to roll your eyes. 

“I’m being serious,” Hunter said. 

“I get it,” you said. “Am I not allowed to be sad about it?” You challenged him, standing up and wrapping your arms across your chest. 

“I don’t think that’s what Hunter means Y/N,” Tech interjected, looking away from what he was doing at the controls to notice your furrowed brows. “I think he simply means we have to focus on our missions instead of courting someone.”

“Besides, why would you need a Valentines when you have us!” Wrecker grins as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

“Ew you’re like my brothers,” you groan, shaking Wrecker’s arm off your shoulder and storming out of the cockpit frustratedly.  

You sat on your bunk kicking your feet and thinking when you were suddenly interrupted. “Brother’s huh?” It was Crosshair. He had his signature toothpick between his lips as he spoke to you, a singular eyebrow raised as he walked towards your bunk. 

“What?” You asked softly, heart beat racing at the sudden intrusion. 

“We’re like your brothers?” 

“Well, yeah,” you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. 

“Then you won’t want me to ask you to be my Valentine then?” Crosshair asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he removed his toothpick. You swear your heart skipped several beats as soon as the words left his lips. 

“Huh?” You asked, eyes wide. 

“I think you heard me,” Crosshair pressed as he sat down next to you on your bunk. He placed a hand on your thigh after flicking his toothpick carelessly across the ship, leaning his face closer to yours just to whisper “do you want to be my Valentine?” You gulped slightly, fearing this was some sort of prank, but when you searched his eyes for any deceit and found none, you nodded quickly. “Hah, that’s what I thought.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple before pulling away and walking back into the cockpit, taking another toothpick out of his pocket and placing it between his teeth. It was only as Crosshair left did Hunter walk in, a knowing smile on his face. “Did you get your date then?” He asked, looking you up and down. 

“I suppose I did,” you mumbled, eyes wide as you watched the door of the cockpit. 

“About time he asked you,” Hunter said, sitting down next to you. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, tearing your eyes away from the door to look at your Sargeant. 

“He’s been pining after you for months,” Hunter chuckled lightly. Your heart began to beat rapidly against your ribcage as Hunter placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Have fun, soldier. You both deserve it.” 

[buffysimonriley]

[ comfort officer ] • captain rex

synopsis - you're a comfort officer for the 501st but your sights are set on one person.

pairing - captain rex/reader.

warnings - nsfw.

fancy helping me pay for my wedding? | commissions. | ao3. | wattpad.

being a comfort officer for the 501st had been a rollercoaster of a ride, but one you had enjoyed so far. the members of the 501st had all fallen for you, but there was somebody in particular who caught your attention: captain rex. 

currently, rex's cock was in your mouth as he squirmed underneath you. his cock was so far in the back of your throat that you were gagging for air, however rex's delicious moans kept you from coming up. rex was completely at your mercy and you were loving every second of it. you see, rex was the only submissive member of the 501st in the bedroom. the captain would submit to you completely and without question. rex's love for you was pure and unfiltered and he told you that every time he saw you. but that was for another time. right now, you bobbed your head along rex's cock and revealed in the sounds he made. "oh maker, y/n," he groaned grasping your hair in his hands. "can't take it anymore, need to be inside of you." 

you pulled off his cock with a 'pop' sound and nodded, a smirk gracing your lips. you loved it when he begged for you and he was so close to begging. you turned around and shimmied your pants down your legs until they pooled at your ankles, shaking your arse at him teasingly. rex could let out a slow moan as he reached for the plush of your arse. taking each cheek in either hand, he squeezed tightly as he admired the way you filled his palms. his cock was so hard, it was hot to the touch and beads of pre cum were now dripping down his shaft. you turned around again to look at rex, still smiling. "poor baby, do you need me?" you asked teasingly. rex's throat was dry and all's he could do was nod as he swallowed. you obliged, pushing him down onto your bed and crawling on top of him. you teased him by grinding your pussy against his thigh, coating it with your wetness that had accumulated just from sucking him off. 

rex sighed and grasped your hips. "please," he begged. 

you cocked an eyebrow at him. "you know better than 'please'," you smiled, still grinding against him. 

"y/n, baby, i'm begging you," he pleaded. "i need you to ride me. i need it." 

"good boy," you whispered before making your way up to his cock. you aligned it perfectly with your cunt and slowly lowered yourself down on top of him. you were being so slow, rex was desperate to thrust himself up into you to bottom out, but he knew better than that. the last time he did you had tied him to your bed post for hours and made him watch as you brought yourself to orgasm again and again. "maker, rex, you're throbbing."

"i wonder why," rex groaned as he rolled his eyes at you. you slapped him slightly, causing the captain to look at you with wide eyes. 

"don't give me sass," you growled, before plonking yourself down on his last inch quickly. 

"holy fuck," rex moaned out, throwing his head back. 

you let out a chuckle and began to move your hips up and down, your pace agonisingly slow. "you like that pretty boy?" you whispered, bending down to give his lips a quick peck. rex nodded, eyes glossy and wide as he looked up at you. his eyes trailed down to your breasts, watching as they bounced with each bounce you did. it didn't take you long before you were quickening your pace, already bringing rex to orgasm. his eyes told you exactly what you wanted to know. "gonna cum rexy?" you asked cockily. 

"y-yeah," he whimpered, fists grasping the sheets beneath him. you laughed and continued bouncing up and down, eager to make the clone captain cum in less than a minute. you made a few more movements with your hips before rex was a stuttering, moaning mess beneath you. "cumming y/n-" he screamed out, letting the others in his squad know you were fucking him senseless. 

"my my," you whispered, slowing down as he came inside of you. "you made a mess pretty boy."

"'m sorry," he whimpered. rex's eyes were glued to where you were joined, watching as you lifted yourself up off his cock, his cum dribbling out of you. 

"my eyes are up here," you snapped. rex's eyes shot up so he was looking at you directly in the eye. you were smiling sweetly at him now, watching as his face softened. 

"sorry love," he mumbled. you bent down, eye-level with his cock and put it in your mouth once more. "w-what are - ah - you doing?"

"sensitive?" you choked, mouthful of his cock. he nodded in response. "oh i'm not done with you yet, captain," you purred. 

boy, was rex in for a long night. 

copyright © { 2023 } by buffysimonriley. do not modify.

[morganas-pendragons]

Defensor | O.K.

this one is dedicated to @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories because they're all dedicated to her now

prompt: obi-wan needs a protector from Anakin within the force. seeing as you are his spouse, you're more then happy to give it to him.

set during episode 3 and the beginning of 4 of kenobi

**** 

It’s hard to remember how old he is sometimes. How worn and calloused his skin is underneath your fingertips, the coarseness of the curls you thread through your fingers as he sleeps peacefully at your side for the first time in years. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi has spent the greater majority of his tragic, lonely life dedicating what he can to protecting you. It is his obligation. His commitment. His promise. 

But he so rarely allows you the opportunity to protect him. 

You intend to change that now. 

It comes with the confession from the mouth of the Third Sister in your search to find Leia. Anakin Skywalker lives. You nearly want to run the girl through with your own saber for being so careless with such a confession, but you’re smart enough to know why she’s uttered it. 

She’s trying to break him. Break down all that remains of that shell of a man you love so ardently until even you can’t put the pieces back together. 

When the three of you finally sit safely upon the transport is when he disappears in search of solitude to attempt meditation. You let him. These precious, quiet moments are all of the peace he can get in this lifetime. 

His breath catches in that quiet, carefully controlled way that has come from years of learning to compartmentalize his emotions. That was one thing you’d always resent the Jedi for. Keeping you from properly being able to process things like a human being should. 

When Obi-Wan’s breath catches as Anakin’s force presence through a fractured bond tries to overwhelm him, you are there to be his peace. 

  “My love,” You murmur, running your hand across the expanse of his shoulders. “You cannot keep doing this to yourself. It is simply the worst type of torture to hang onto this.” 

Obi-Wan catches your hand to kiss your fingertips. A feeble attempt at a distraction. “I believed that bond to have been broken on Mustafar,” He said quietly. “I was wrong.” 

It isn’t a lot to go off of but it does tell you one thing: Anakin Skywalker really is his curse. He’s been dead for years, but even now, Obi-Wan Kenobi cannot be rid of him. He lingers everywhere. In his mind. In his heart. In his daughter. 

Poor, sweet Leia is far too innocent and naive to be tainted with the truth of who her real father really is. 

  “Have you slept since we started this?” You ask, to which he shakes his head. “You will.” 

 “Darling-” 

Again you shake your head, holding your hand up to silence his rebuttal. “No, Obi-Wan. You seem to forget that when I married you I also made you the vow you made me.” Wide, vulnerable blue eyes shift upward to meet your own as you cup his face in your hands and run the pads of your thumbs across his cheeks. “It’s my duty and honor to protect you the way you’ve spent so many years protecting me. Allow me this. Please.” 

He almost finds it in him to argue, to attempt some type of logic that justifies his reasoning for believing your argument is false, when he recognizes the silent plea on your tongue. 

Obi-Wan acquiesces to your demand. It’s evident that you’re overjoyed by his submission because the minute he does, your aspect lights up and you’re surging forward to kiss him despite Leia lingering just around the corner with her newly repaired droid. 

A broken moan echoes in the back of his throat as he presses closer. When he does allow himself the ability to be distracted by the warm, pliant form of your mouth, Obi-Wan’s shields unintentionally fall and allow you full ability to step inside. 

That’s where you stand your ground from that point forward. Your Force Presence will always linger there in wait of the one who dares to try and bring him to his knees. 

*** 

  “Only when the eyes are closed can you truly see.” 

  “See what?” 

  “The Way.”

You know exactly what’s wrong as soon as he doubles over in the tunnels. Your husband’s hands scramble for purchase in your robes as debilitating pain echoes through the remains of a former force bond, breath coming in short and panicked as he struggles to keep his grasp on reality. 

  “Obi-Wan,” You say calmly as you turn around and place his hands on your hips while using your own to steady him. “Is he here?” 

Obi-Wan nods. That’s all you need to know. He doesn’t need to say anything else. 

You can see the shadow of his form down the street as you peer out the window. He is all darkness, bathed in the shadows of the night around him and the dark of The Force that clings to his very being. 

That man is not the same one who used to be your son. 

  “My love, you need to take Leia and go-” 

  “No.” 

Obi-Wan’s grasp is tight as he wrenches you backward and presses your shoulder into the wall. “I have already lost every piece of me that remains except you,” He snaps, and you are caught off guard by the bite in his words as you meet his eyes. “And I refuse to do so. Do you understand me? You take Leia and you go. I will be right behind you.” 

Dread floods your veins as you nod. You can’t do anything else. You can’t cry out, you can’t fight him, all you can do is pray to the Maker that he will indeed keep that promise and come home. 

Obi-Wan kisses you like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do before disappearing through the door that will lead him away to do the one thing he’s been fighting this entire time: Fighting Vader. Acknowledging who Vader really is. 

  “You have to help him. You know as well as I do he won’t be fine,” Leia argues as she yanks her hand from your grasp and stands tall in front of you in the tunnel like she’s preparing the rest of her inevitable argument. You’re struck by how much she looks and carries herself like Padmé. “And you might be the only one who can also keep up against that bad man. Please go. Defend him!” 

Defend him. 

A cyan lightsaber ignites the dark of the tunnels. “Cuyir morut'yc, kih solus.” You whisper, to which she nods - like she’s somehow understood what you said even though she didn’t - and continues with Tala down the tunnel. 

When you leave, you don’t look back. 

*** 

It’s difficult to catch Vader off guard. Nearly impossible. What he is not expecting in the midst of forcing Obi-Wan into the fire is the arc of the cyan saber - the mark of the healer, ironically enough - that effectively cuts through every single standing trooper around him. 

The weapon flies back in Obi-Wan’s direction and lands in the hand of someone he swore had died during Knightfall. 

  ‘’Ah, so you have come to defend your sworn husband at last.” 

You roll your eyes and spin your weapon slowly in your hand. “Yeah, well... you did an osik job of it.” You snapped. “Try attacking him again, Vader. I will make you regret every moment of it.” 

Then your saber is cutting through the tank to your right, and the world is one again illuminated by fire. 

  “Y/N!” 

Tala’s presence sprints out of the dark as you bend down to collect your husbands body in your arms. “Get your transport ready, Tala,” You demand. “We need to get him to Jabiim.” Peering around both shoulders and her body, you frown at the lack of Leia’s presence. She’s not anywhere near you. “Where’s Leia?” 

  “She should be at the transport when we arrive. Let’s go, NED!” 

The pair lead the way before you to the escape ship as you cradle Obi-Wan’s body to your chest and begin to follow them. He’s practically burning - both physically and mentally, every part of his Force Presence is ignited by the pain he undoubtedly feels over confronting his former Padawan - in your embrace, but the gentleness of your touch and the quiet nature of your words is enough to bring at least a modicum of comfort. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi submits to your gentle prodding against poorly constructed walls and allows himself to sleep while you defend him. 

Should Vader get in his way again, he knows you will be there to do what he can’t. 

*** 

  “He will be fine, you know. Bacta works wonders for burns.” 

You snort and press your hands against the glass. He’s only just been put in there - even more quickly then usual as the demands of a former medic really do work - and has only just succumbed to the severity of his injuries. 

  “He may be fine physically,” You call out in response, eyes closed and hands pressed to either side of the glass as you slowly sink deeper into The Force. “But mentally, I am his only defense.” 

Tala doesn’t talk again after that. Realizing what you are doing, she leaves you alone with your thoughts and the soft hum of the bacta tank as it works to heal your husband’s burns. 

  “The years have made you weak.” 

You can see him standing there, submerged in his own tank somewhere far away where there is nothing but the comfort of his own rage and the pain he so often conceals beneath a suit of armor. A suit of armor that lives in place of the man who occupies it. 

The armor is more alive then Anakin Skywalker ever was. 

His body is riddled with scars both old and new. The scar tissue is raised in most places and leaves little of the original skin to be seen, and the limbs he lost during the battle on Mustafar are gone too. 

He is more mechanics then man. 

  “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.” 

Pressing harder, deeper, you wrap the Light around Obi-Wan’s flickering Force Signature and push. 

Vader isn’t expecting that. Where he finds the cracks in his former Master’s chassis, he is instead met with steadfast resistance that screams, “He does not belong to you and The Dark.” 

  “Sh.... my love,” You whisper softly. Obi-Wan’s presence shifts from a startling, sharp gold to a muted, content blue as his thrashing slowly eases and his body becomes limp again. “I have you. Now sleep.” 

While the battle of minds is fought, the war against the dark and the light threatening to consume him happens far, far away while Obi-Wan Kenobi sleeps. 

[mushrubes]

Star wars universe masterlist

Masterlist | Prompts 

Key -

❀ - Fluff

✮ - Angst

❦ - Most popular

I - Imagines

P - Preferences

S - Series

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Din Djarin -

- You (i) -  ✮ +  ❀

- Proud of you (i) -  ❀

- Keldabe Kiss (i) -  ✮ +  ❀

- Jedi (i) - ✮ +  ❀

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Luke Skywalker -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Anakin Skywalker -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ahsoka Tano -

- none yet

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Princess Leia -

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Obi Wan Kenobi -

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Han Solo -

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Padme Amidala - 

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Rey -

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Kylo Ren -

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Tharan Cedrax (swtor) -

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Zenith (swtor) -

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Felix Iresso (swtor) -

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[solarpoweredwings]

Star Wars Fanfics will be linked here!

Fics:

Oneshots:

Drabbles:

Imagines:

[aemvnd]

𝒶.skywalker. ┆ belonging.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ first time writing for anakin in a min …n yes it's a modern au . <3 be kind, pls. !!!

anakin skywalker is a naturally dominant man, and we all know that, but, when you're sitting in his lap, like just now, all pretty and your glossy lips all pouty and kissable, doe-like eyes all innocent and dreamy, anakin cannot help but want to have you, to possess you, to own you in every way possible—completely.

he craves you, desperately, day and night, every second of every waking moment, and his dreams, they're so vivid—they're of you, because of course they are, and you're so beautiful, so perfect, the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, or will ever know.

anakin knows he must have you, giving the sweet-smelling skin of your pulse point a soft, tender kiss, knowing you're a sensitive little thing, but he doesn't care, doesn't care that you whine and playfully swat at his thick, muscular arm, and he just wants you to understand, to understand that you belong to him—that you've always belonged to him.

"anakin," you mewl girlishly, so soft and sweet and naïvely beautifully, he cannot stand it, and he gives you a small, lazy smirk, his blue eyes sparkling as they slightly gaze down at you, watching you, watching your expressions as he wraps his strong, masculine arms around your waist, tugging you closer against himself on his lap, wanting to see how you'd react.

anakin loves your little reactions, always so shy and sweet, it makes him smile, how bashful you become around him, how you try to act as if your little cunt isn't quivering at just the mere sight of him, knowing your panties were already soaked with your sweetness, just waiting for him to lick you clean, happily and eagerly.

and anakin is more than happy to help you, to help relieve you, to relieve that ache you feel, and he wonders if you ever touched your sweet little pussy—good girl that you're, he doubts it, but he wouldn't know, you don't like talking about such 'naughty things' as you like to say, always too bashful around him to speak such lewd words aloud.

anakin has no such qualms, he enjoys discussing how he wishes to devour your sweet little pussy, to fuck you until you're numb and too dumb to speak, your limbs weak and needing his help to do basic things, like bring you snacks or bathe you—he'd do anything for you if you'd only ask, and even more.

"what's wrong, baby?" anakin croons lovingly, raising a large, tan-skinned hand and gently curling two long, calloused fingers under your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him, making your belly flutter with a swarm of butterflies—and anakin cannot help but smile wolfishly, chuckling softly as he can feel the way your body trembles in his lap, needy and wanting, and if you'd only ask, he'd give you what you so desperately crave, what you need.

all you need to do is ask, and anakin skywalker is more than willing to provide that relief for you, in any way you desire—he is yours, yours to command, just as you belong to him.

[decembermidnight]

Beskar and Pearls

Summary: Wearing the luxurious gift the Mandalorian gave you while accompanying him on a business trip turns out to be a pleasurable torture.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ MDNI, teasing in public, Dom!Din, sub!reader, possessive!Din, lots of dirty talk, Din being a sexy arrogant asshole, glove kink, masculinity kink, humiliation kink, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism kink, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies (wtf is a refractory period), a hint of overstimulation

A/N: the most coherent thoughts I have while ovulating. I have no excuse. This is FILTHYYYY I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! Also a big thank you to @thefrogdalorian for making sure it's written in decent English and to @saradika-graphics for the perfect divider 💕

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

The Mandalorian has just landed his ship on Nevarro after spending an entire month catching quarries in the outer rim. He has been away most of the time, but he made sure he'd make up for it every time he came back, too proud and stubborn to admit with words that he missed you, but demonstrating it by spoiling you with luxurious gifts and his body.

You look at him in reverential adoration as he dresses in his armour – a blend of his Mandalorian heritage and the many trophies he acquired from his victims, dark red in colour and dented after many close encounters with death.

He's just finished strapping weapons everywhere on his marvellous body when he addresses you.

“Hey. Got this for you. Wear it. We’re going to the market, I have some business to attend to,” Mando says as he hands you a small drawstring pouch he was hiding in his utility belt.

You immediately open it and its content leaves you speechless. It’s the sexiest piece of underwear you’ve ever seen – an expensive-looking black lace thong with just a string of pearls meant to go between your pussy lips.

If he wants you to wear it while in Nevarro, a lawless planet full of dangerous bounty hunters, you will wear it under the shortest skirt you have. The mere thought of his eyes glued to your ass, hoping to get a glimpse of it while being vigilant of other men at the same time, makes your head spin. You let out an aroused sigh and look at him, impassive as always behind the dark visor.

“That should keep you busy,” Mando chuckles and tilts his helmet.

You immediately wear it along with that short, flowy dress that also happens to be his favourite one on you.

“Let me see it,” he says as his hands grab you by the waist. He brings you closer to him and immediately lifts your skirt. He kneels before you and lets out a satisfied hum when he sees the tempting way the pearls disappear into your slit. The Mandalorian lingers there, dark visor trained on that heavenly view as his gloved hands caress your thighs. The sharp contrast between the coarse leather and your delicate, soft skin gives you a thrill of pleasure. You guess – you hope – the trip won’t take long.

His chestplate rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath and maintain his composure at the sight of your perfect cunt dressed in pearls. It’s incredible to see how something so dainty could turn out to be so perverse and sinful.

“Come on. Let’s go now,” he says as he stands up. Now at his full height, his imposing figure resumes towering over yours. You admire him in awe, taking in the broadness of his body and the way his armour magnificently highlights it.

He offers you his hand to descend the ramp and as soon as you start walking, you understand why he said that it would keep you busy. With every step that you take, the pearls pleasurably rub against your clit. You can feel yourself getting wet already. There's an aroused expression on your face that Mando does not miss.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asks teasingly.

"Yes," you answer and bite your lip.

"Good,” you can hear how pleased he is seeing you like that after you’ve barely taken a few steps out of the ship. You know the thought of you being so aroused in public while having to control yourself is making him hard. You decide to play his game, see where this leads.

Mando is walking right behind you, strutting proudly as he stalks you like a hunter follows its prey. You feel his gaze trained on your butt, so you accentuate the swaying of your hips to get more friction from the pearls and to seduce him even further, hoping to get a reaction from him.

"Shake your ass as much as you want, you're not getting anything until I'm done here. You're only getting this scum to see how pretty you are. I like it," he slaps your ass and chuckles. You bite your lip to muffle a whimper.

"See the way they're looking at you? If they dare even think of touching you, their dead body will touch the ground before they lay one finger on you," he whispers in your ear as he grabs your hand and positions it over his blaster.

"You are mine," he growls in your ear as he wraps his other hand around your waist. He pulls you close, until the flustered, naked skin of your back touches his cold beskar chest plate. A thrill of excitement traverses your whole body and goes straight between your legs.

No one would be so stupid to touch you, not when a Mandalorian is claiming you as his, not when you can feel his erection against your ass. The whole thing is making you light-headed with arousal, so much that you start to shamelessly rub your ass against his cock. His hand tightens its grasp around your waist as your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder. You sigh in his neck and his hand trails up and wraps around your throat.

"Behave now," the Mandalorian growls as you feel his fingers tightening their grasp, trying to restrain himself from giving into lust already.

“I want you,” you whisper in his neck.

“I know,” he replies confidently before releasing you. What an arrogant motherfucker. You want to make him so hard he’ll want to bring you back to the ship and fuck your brains out, putting his desire for you before his stupid pride and his business. You want him to surrender to his carnal instinct.

The more steps you take, the more desperate you become for relief from this agonising, yet pleasurable torture. The pearls are stimulating your clit mercilessly, without ever getting you close to an orgasm. Your cunt spasms and clenches and what's worse is that he knows. Mando has spent so long quietly studying his bounties that he can tell by the irregular way you're breathing that you're struggling with the sensation. You bet he's enjoying every second of it, smirking under the helmet.

Just before entering the market area, he pulls you closer to him one more time, making you gasp.

"Now be quiet. You wouldn't want to fuck up my business. Be a good girl," he whispers softly in your ear as you feel his hand on your lower belly—close, so close to where you want him the most. Maker, he’s rock hard. You can feel it. You can’t think of anything else when his erection is pressing against your ass and his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. He lets you go and you enter the market area together.

You try to divert your attention on whatever item they’re selling in the stands but it’s mostly weapons and things for bounty hunters that you couldn’t care less about. You can feel your arousal starting to drip down your legs, making your inner thighs slippery. Your swollen clit is pulsing and begging for attention, but Mando has been clear - you’ll get nothing until I'm done here, and you know nothing could make him change your mind, unless you play your cards right.

He grabs a seat in a beat-up wooden booth, his legs spread wide due to the massive erection trapped in his pants. There is an undeniable air of confidence and arrogance to him when he sits like this, looking so imposing and authoritative. You wish you could just drop to your knees and please him in any way he wants.

"Be my good pretty whore and sit here," Mando invites you to sit on his thigh and you immediately comply. You're so damn wet, you can't keep your legs closed.

"Hmm? Sitting here like this with your legs spread open? Do you want everyone to see your pretty cunt? Better let them know to whom this belongs, don't you think?" he coos in your ear with his husky voice. He knows you're both perfectly concealed and no one could see what's going on under that table. He's doing that just to prove a point—that you belong to him.

You nod mindlessly as his hand cups your cunt and stays there, still, without moving.

"Mando. Mando I need–" you whisper in his neck in a trembling voice.

"Oh. I know," he says, pleased when he sees how flustered you're getting. "Not yet," he growls as one of his gloved fingers trails your slit. He stops right before your clit, making you whimper and grip his arm tight in response. You dig your nails in his flightsuit as he feels how unbelievably wet you are.

"Hey. Behave now," he whispers as a Rodian approaches the booth and takes a seat, greeting him with a nod of his head. He immediately hands Mando a puck.

You have no idea what they’re talking about – you can't focus on anything else apart from the way Mando’s gloved hand holds the puck. You look at his fingers with pure lust, thinking of them touching your clit, pumping inside your cunt, the coarse leather caressing your skin. 

You let your hand trail on his inner thigh and he stays surprisingly calm, not flinching one bit as your fingertips slowly slide higher, until they finally meet his cock. He is so unbelievably hard, you feel him throbbing underneath your fingers as you trail them all over his length. The Mandalorian won't betray any emotion, which turns you on even more. He's perfectly calm and collected on the outside, but you bet he'd love to throw you on that table and bury himself in you.

As soon as the Rodian hands Mando a handful of credits as an advance, he leaves.

"Please. Please, I need you," you whisper in his neck.

"I'm not done here. Be patient."

The throbbing need between your legs causes you to ache so badly that you don’t notice another man has approached and taken a seat until he begins speaking with the Mandalorian.

They're speaking in a foreign language, and Mando’s interlocutor does not seem happy. Judging by their tones of voice and gestures, they appear to be negotiating the fee for Mando collecting a certain bounty that the man needs capturing and he is displeased that Mando commands a high price. You’ve learnt over the time you’ve spent with the Mandalorian that there's not much room for negotiation with him. He has leverage since he's regarded as being the best bounty hunter in the outer rim. The way he speaks is so confident, it makes you even wetter how he does not lose composure while the other man is basically yelling at him. 

He starts running his thumb on the string of pearls digging in your slit, feeling how wet you are for him as he keeps talking to his client while you're sitting in his lap, doing nothing but looking pretty. You're his slut and he wants everyone to know it, but you have to act cool even as he teases you under the table. You have to control the way you breathe, you can't let even the smallest whimper out. Why is this so hot? Why is he so hot?

In the end, the man hands him a hefty amount of credits and rises from the table with a huff, muttering and cursing as he goes.

"Please, take me back to the ship and fuck me. I won't ask for anything else, please," you whisper sensually in the crook of his neck.

"I'm not done here," he tries to appear impassive, but as soon as you resume your touching between his legs, he jerks slightly. You smirk, satisfied.

"Mando…" you trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, feeling how hard his erection is while purring in his neck. His pants are thick, but as you stop right at the tip, drawing circles on it with your fingertips, you can feel the fabric getting slightly damp.

“You’re so hard…” you sigh sensually as you keep rubbing his cock. You hear a choked grunt from him, now that he can’t focus on his job anymore, now that he’s at the mercy of your teasing. You’re so tempting, acting so shameless in public, the thrill of someone noticing the two of you drives him insane and you know it. You’re finally getting your revenge. You can bet he's close to losing control. Mando is twitching in his pants, his breathing getting heavier and heavier...

"Fuck it." He grabs you by the arm and you rush out of the market and back to the ship.

The Mandalorian doesn't even wait for the ramp to close behind him to bend you over the first crate he finds, kicking your legs open with his feet and freeing his throbbing erection. His gloved hands run up your skirt and position themselves around your hips, keeping you steady for him as he slams into you all at once. He meets no resistance from your drenched cunt whatsoever, leaving you breathless as you exhale in a loud moan. You're crushed between the crate and his beskar body, pleasurably forced to take his thick cock. You're only able to let out ragged groans and clamp tightly around him as he finally gives it to you just like you wanted.

"You. Fucking whore. Couldn't wait for me to finish my business. Wanted this dick so much, hm? Are you happy now?!" his thrusts are furious and relentless, his hips crushing your body against the crate with a devastating force. The angle at which he's hitting you is deep, so deep that you can't even prop yourself up on your shaky elbows. You're just getting brutally fucked without dignity.

"You get so disobedient when you want this cock. Maybe I should just tie you up and gag you?"

You can't even mumble words, too absorbed by the feeling of his cock thrusting inside of you, so aroused at the idea of him using your body for his pleasure.

"You're so wet. Damn. It must have been such a torture, right? To be so wet and turned on? Hearing you beg like that made me so fucking hard. Feel it. Feel what you do to me," he rasps as he rails you deep and hard.

The way the pearls are rubbing against your clit and the perfect rhythm of his thrusts are driving you close to the edge already.

"Mando, Mando, I'm–" you can barely mumble as you helplessly drag your hands against the crate.

"Yeah. Come. Seems like it's the only thing that will make you obedient. You wanted it so much, you can have as many as you want today."

'Thank you, thank you, tha–" your blissful chant is abruptly cut as the orgasm takes control over your body. Your cunt clenches hard around his thick cock and your legs jerk uncontrollably, barely touching the ground as he keeps you still and never stops drilling into you as you ride your high. The pleasure is so intense, it leaves you breathless as your cunt keeps involuntarily spasming around him in aftershock. You're panting against the metal crate beneath you, overwhelmed and reduced to a trembling, feeble mess, the coldness of it is a relief against the hot, flustered skin of your body that won't stop begging for him.

"Is this what you wanted, hm? For me to stop everything I was doing to come here and take care of you? Needy girl. You desperately wanted attention, hm?"

You can only mumble in assent, feeling the way he takes out his rage on you.

"Bet you would've let me fuck you in a dirty fucking alley if I wanted to."

"Y-yes–" you reply in a breathy groan, drenching yourself at the mere thought.

"What a slut. What if someone heard you screaming like that? What if someone heard how wet this pussy is when I fuck it? Fuck, you're dripping!"

For a man who barely speaks in normal circumstances, he sure does like to run his mouth when he's buried deep inside of you.

"Yeah. I bet you'd like it if someone saw me fucking you like the slut that you are," he pants and you start whimpering and clamping around him at the idea.

"I knew it. You're such a whore. But you are mine, and I won't let anyone hear these pretty moans and see this perfect cunt. They belong to me. To me," he growls.

"Yes – yes. I fuck–ing b-belong to you," you repeat mindlessly.

"Does it get this much to get you this wet? Just a string of pretty pearls? Looking so fucking good. So fucking good. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yes, Mando!"

"Shit, you're so tight. You're making me come," he says in a broken voice. His thrusts get erratic, as does his breathing "This cunt is so perfect, so fucking perfect," he emphasises the very last word before bursting, spilling hot and wet inside of you in a ragged groan, whining at how good it feels. His muscles tense and he gets rigid behind you, his head rolling back in pleasure.

"Oh, fuck! You're so hot. Spill all of your cum inside of me. Like this, yes!" you cry and start touching your clit, so turned on at the sight and feeling of his orgasm.

The sounds he makes as he comes are the hottest ones you have ever heard. The infamous Mandalorian – stoic, imposing and menacing – is getting lost in the overwhelming pleasure you’re offering him. Your drenched, tight pussy is making that dangerous warrior crumble. You’re so aroused, you need more.

"Please, please don't stop fucking me!" you dare asking him.

"I won't," he grunts as he keeps burying his dick deep, so deep inside of you.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh, fuck, I need you to fuck me harder, please!" you plead as you feel his cum starting to drip down your hole. "Maker, please!" you say as you start frantically slapping and rubbing your clit as you hear the obscene, sloppy sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of you, of his hips slamming against your ass.

"I won't stop. Fuck, I want more. I can't stop. You drive me fucking insane!" he growls, resembling a wild beast, completely overwhelmed by lust. You feel his cock still pulsing inside of you as you get even wetter.

"Look at this perfect cunt. You're so full of my cum, damn, you can't ever get enough of it, can you? Fucking cum slut. Look what you make me do. Just came inside of you but I can't stop fucking this perfect cunt. You want to drain me. Are you proud of yourself, hm? Making me so fucking hard in public and teasing me like the whore that you are."

"Fuck, yes, I'm your whore. Your slave. I'm so close, please–" you mutter deliriously while your fingers and the pearls are rubbing against your clit in a wet, nasty mess of your fluids and his cum. You come hard around him once again, strangling his spent, sensitive cock in your tight grasp and hear him grunting, his grip on your hips tightens and his whole body jerks, but he really can’t have enough.

"Yeah. Yeah. Come on my fucking cock, whore. Let me feel it." he encourages you, gritting those words between his teeth, fighting his own oversensitivity, so addicted to the way you feel around him.

He doesn't stop fucking you, not even after your orgasm. He keeps railing you relentlessly. You bring your hand to your mouth and suck your fingers, tasting the bitterness of his cum blended with the slightly salty taste of your fluids on your tongue. Its taste is addicting, the scent heady and intoxicating in the best way possible.

"You taste so good, Mando. We taste so good together," you drawl, overwhelmed by pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet we do," he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it to lift your head up, giving it to you even harder, making your eyes roll back in your head. You are screaming, completely entranced by the way his cock is still pumping hard inside of you.

"So damn loud. You like being fucked like this, hm?"

He hits even harder from this angle, keeping you nice and still for him to use as he pleases. You're so busy screaming that you can't even reply to him.

"Yeah. Scream as loud as you want. Let me hear how much you want it. I like it."

You can feel his cum dripping down your legs with every thrust, hearing the sloppy, squelching sounds your bodies make. Mando can't even restrain himself anymore, he’s moaning and sighing at how much he's enjoying it. Your cunt is spasming around him, turned on at the way he sounds.

"You like it, hm? To reduce me like this?" he says in between thrusts.

The truth is that yes, you do. You love making the Mandalorian falter with your teasing, making him so desperate and boiling with lust, he has to leave business to fuck you hard, so hard that any coherent thought leaves your mind. You love it when you can feel the man under all that beskar, when he makes you feel like the most important and beautiful thing in the galaxy.

"Yeah, you do," he answers himself as he slows his rhythm, slipping out of you completely only to slowly bury himself inside of you to the hilt, enjoying the view and feeling of his cock entering into your cunt dripping with his cum.

You bite your lip to muffle your screams just to hear him moaning and sighing as he feels the welcoming warmth of your cunt.

“Mando. Mando, please,” you beg as you feel your legs impatiently shaking as his shaft rubs that perfect spot inside of you with each thrust.

“What?”

“Harder. Please?” you beg, subjugated by that perfect teasing.

He slams into you so deeply that you feel it pulsing against your cervix.

“What? Like this? Hm?” he says as he starts to jackhammer you.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you resume touching your clit.

“Greedy whore. Ready for another one? I'm not stopping.”

“Mmmm,” you can only reply as you feel another wave of overwhelming pleasure approaching.

You hear him panting as he gives you a few more violent, deep thrusts, driving you over the edge one more time.

“Yeah. Take it – fucking t-take–” he grunts when he feels your walls clenching around his cock, your orgasm pushing him over the edge, too.

A loud, violent snarl rips through his lips as he comes, filling you with his white, thick load once again. The grip of his hands around your hips turns to steel, your eyes roll up so high all you can see is pitch black as he keeps pumping his cock into you as you both ride your high. The feeling completely obliterates you, turning your body and mind into a helpless, exhausted mess.

A huge, satisfied grin forms on your face as you feel him slowly slip out of you and his cum starts dripping down your cunt and legs.

“Good work," he pants "now be a good girl and wait for me while I go back there. Don’t move one muscle and maybe we will pick up where we left off,” he says as he tucks his spent cock in his cum stained pants, not giving a shit about it, looking at the mess he made of you, disrupted and leaking with his seed. Wrecked, used, marked. His.

[bruisedboys]

could you do anakin looking after you while ur drunk or high 🫠

hi honey yes I absolutely can!! sorry for any inaccuracies in this, I don’t drink and I actually have not watched a star wars movie in months 😭

anakin skywalker x fem!reader

“Give me a kiss,” you say. ‘Demand’ would be the more accurate word. Anakin’s eyes blow wide.

“What?” He asks through a startled laugh, more shocked than anything. You’ve been home all of thirty seconds and you’re already all over him. He’s never trusting Ahsoka with you again, he decides.

“A kiss,” you say again, like it’s obvious. You tilt your chin up towards him, chest flush with his. “I want one. Please?”

Anakin blinks. “Sure,” he says, properly dumbfounded. He leans down and kisses you. The taste of liquor on your mouth is strong. Your lips are sticky and warm.

You make a pleased humming noise against his mouth and screw your fingers into his collar. Anakin has to pull back lest he get carried away. You chase his lips, eyes half lidded. When you realise the kiss is over, they blink open as if your eyelashes have been glued together.

“You taste like a minibar,” Anakin tells you fondly. He slides his hands from your shoulders to your elbows. “How much did you have to drink exactly?”

Your brows furrow and your nose scrunches. “Don’t know. Not that much. Like, five?”

“Five what?” Anakin asks, a bit horrified.

Your face scrunches even more, like the effort of remembering is gruelling. A few seconds pass and then,

“I can’t remember,” you admit, forlorn.

Anakin rolls his eyes. You’re hopeless. He’s going to have a word with you in the morning about limits. Admittedly, he should’ve talked to you before you left with Ahsoka, but he was too distracted by your pretty going-out outfit. It’s all rumpled now, and your hair’s falling out, but you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Right,” he says, half amused and half exasperated. “Well, how about I get you some water, hm? You look like you could use something that’s not laced with alcohol.”

You don’t answer, but you also don’t protest as he guides you over to the sofa. ‘Guides’ is being generous. He’s practically carrying you. He doesn’t mind, even though you’re dead weight in his arms. He sits you down and goes to move away but you cling to him, your hands hot at his hips.

“Y/N,” he says, exasperated. He’s glad you’re half-cut so you don’t notice how much your needy touching affects him. “C’mon, trouble. Let me go.”

You pout at him. “Can I have another kiss?” You ask, looking awfully hopeful. He’s sure you’re making your eyes like that on purpose, all shiny and pretty, nothing short of captivating.

“After you’ve had some water,” he promises, practicing some restraint for both your sakes. He covers your hands with his and eases them off his hips. “Sit pretty, okay?” He leans over and cups your warm cheek briefly. “I’ll be back.”

You give him a sticky sweet smile as he leaves. He fills a glass for you with cold water and ice in the kitchen. When he returns you’re exactly how he left you, if not somehow prettier.

“Here, sweetheart,” he says, handing you your water. He keeps a hand under your glass while you drink, worried you’ll drop it, but you’re very careful and you finish half the glass in a few big gulps.

When you’re done smile at him, lips shiny with condensation. “Kiss now?” You ask adorably.

Anakin gives in. He can’t say no when you’re asking like that. He bends at the waist to kiss you, one hand under your chin, one making sure you don’t drop your drink. You respond with startling enthusiasm, pushing up into his kiss eagerly, your hands grabbing at his waist and pulling him between your legs. Anakin laughs like mad and draws back.

“Sweetheart,” he says, chiding. He holds one hand to your cheek to stop you from continuing your chase for his mouth. “Don’t.”

You frown around his palm. “Why not?”

“You’re really quite drunk, if you haven’t noticed,” he tells you, amused and lovesick at the same time. He drags a line down your jaw with his thumb. “Do you have a headache, honey?”

You shake your head viciously. Anakin thinks if you didn’t have a headache before he asked, you probably do now.

“No,” you say primly.

Anakin hums. You’ll have one in the morning, probably. Though he hopes if he can get enough water in you tonight it’ll hopefully make things better for you when you wake up tomorrow.

He tucks some of your hair behind your ear where it’s come loose. The smile you give him in return is blinding.

“Finish your water, sweet girl,” he says, fonder than fond. “Then I’ll help you get changed and we can go to bed, how does that sound?”

You make a pleased sound as you bring your glass to your mouth. Anakin can guess well enough what it means.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

[bits-and-babs]

could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian 👀 preferably touch starved din

✦ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED

din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.

cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX ⇾

Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.

Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, you’d spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping. 

In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. He’d let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions. 

In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mando’s leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mando’s search for the bounty. It’s cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you can’t see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close… So you place your palm on Mando’s shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view. 

You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers. 

Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorian’s stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.

It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.

You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to ‘check the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journey’. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.

"Please, please fucking touch me,” Mando’s voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.”I can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mando’s head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk. 

“It feels like you’ve missed me,” you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.

“M–Missed you so much,” he admits, and you’re almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, “Hah– Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.”

Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you. 

The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds. 

“Fuck–” He growls, practically choking on his own voice, “C–Can’t!”

“It’s okay,” you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, “We can do it again…” 

Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mando’s lungs. It’s so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet. 

Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth. 

Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. You’re so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated man– but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control. 

Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mando’s head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow down– swallow around him. 

“Hoh-Fuck–! Stars,” he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mando’s trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs. 

“Your mouth– hah–” he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. You’d stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. “It’s so good…”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, “So is yours. Put it to use and taste me?” You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[webslinger-holland]

Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

[iburnedmyselfalive]

YOUR MESS

somethin' short to make up for my absence <33

NSFW! -- Dialoge prompt - @airaibunny !

Anakin Skywalker skillfully moved his two fingers within you with an intense rhythm, causing you to tightly hold onto him.

"don't you stop squeezing around 'em, don't you stop," he whispered, playfully curling his fingers, eliciting a loud moan from you.

"yeah? that's what you like huh?" he chuckled.

With eagerness, you nodded, craving more, your legs trembling from the intense sensation.

"Say it," he hissed, seemingly attuned to your thoughts as one hand traversed your body to playfully slap your breast, prompting a whimper from you.

"I want more, Ani," you whined, a hint of desperation in your tone, causing a satisfied grin to spread across his face.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, deliberately slowing down, curling his fingers deeper and hitting your sweet spot.

"Mm, I want it so bad," you exclaimed, tugging on his gorgeous locks.

"Yeah?" he gasped, breathless, before hushing your moans with a fervent kiss, exploring down to your neck and adorning it with affectionate marks.

"Tell me you want to cum," he demanded, delivering a sharp slap to your cheek that made your thighs involuntarily clench. With one swift motion, he forced them apart.

"I want to cum ani," you cried out, gazing at him with pleading puppy dog eyes, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"Pathetic, my fingers have you whimpering like a desperate bitch, can only imagine the effect my cock would have on you?" he sneered.

His words had you in a whirlwind, repeatedly moaning his name as if it were a chant. Your hand instinctively moved down to meet his wrist, whimpering and squirming within the limits of your ability, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Mm, s’too much ani! Too much!" you cried out, attempting to close your legs, but he forcefully kept them open.

"Take it," he growled, spitting down at your clit before bringing his thumb up to rub fast circles over the sensitive little nub.

And that's what pushed you over the edge – his explicit talk, the touch of his fingers, all of him. The approach of your climax was undeniable, legs shaking, eyes rolling, back arching as you clung to his wrist for dear life. You wanted him to stop, yet at the same time, you didn't want him to cease; it was an exquisite paradox, overwhelming in its intensity.

"Fuck" you cried out, the sensation continuing even after you climaxed. Kneeling down, he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, eagerly cleaning up the delicious mess he had orchestrated.

"Suck," he demanded, locking eyes with you.

"Clean my fingers; this is your mess," he said, presenting his fingers to your mouth. Obeying his command, you brought the two digits into your mouth, sucking and licking them as he instructed.

Your compliance earned you a kiss on your sensitive cunt; he grinned mischievously before enveloping your clit with his lips. It made you whimper as you tried to push him away, but the vibrations of his chuckle only intensified your reaction.

Seeing his chin adorned in your juices was a sight you never wanted to part with – he looked incredibly sexy.

"What's the matter, baby? Hmm, too sensitive for my tongue?" he cooed at you, teasingly.

You whimpered, shaking your head in denial.

"No?" he asked, briefly pulling away before spreading your legs as far as they could go and diving back in with fervor. His tongue worked tirelessly on your pussy, his eyes locked onto yours, never breaking the gaze.

He reveled in observing your reactions, your mouth forming an 'o' shape in response. Sitting up, he placed one hand on you, coercing you to recline as he continued his passionate exploration.

"That feels so good," you cried out to him, squirming as you sensed your second orgasm approaching faster than expected.

He inserted a finger into you once more, his tongue skillfully circling around your clit.

Your scent drove him wild, making him crave you for every meal conceivable – breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He yearned to pleasure you as if he had been starved for years.

"Such a delectable pussy," he mumbled, sucking on your clit, creating a satisfying 'pop' sound.

[unofficial-writing]

Little Clan

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, topics of pregnancy, sickness, etc.

Summary: You recently found out you’re pregnant and you have to tell Din

Word count: Like 700

Translation: Mesh’la (MAYSH’la) - “Beautiful”, Ad’ika (ah-DEE-kah) - “Little one”

༺═────────────═༻

You’d been wrecked for the past few days. Spending so much time in bed or throwing up had taken a toll on you, causing your mental state to drop as well and make you more emotional than usual.

Din of course tended to you as if you were dying. He brought you food, did your hair, and basically just stayed with you all day. it wasn’t until today that he had to leave the Razor Crest for a couple of hours. He was hesitant but you insisted you would be just fine.

Up until early that morning, you thought it was just a particularly difficult sickness. But a thought climbed into your mind, which wouldn’t leave until you answered to it. And about an hour ago, you confirmed it. you were pregnant.

There were mixed feelings. How would Din feel about it? you didn’t even know how you felt. You knew Din and you knew he wouldn’t be upset, but it was a subject you never talked about before.

You took a few deep breaths to keep yourself from getting overwhelmed. Now sitting on the floor of the ship, you stared into a strip of metal that was clean enough to see your reflection in. That’s where you had been for at least the past ten minutes. You stayed there, even after hearing the ramp door slide open.

A hand gingerly went to your stomach, turning your head to see your armored Din climbing the ramp and into the ship.

Without greeting him, you turned back to the makeshift mirror, hearing him set Grogu down with a soft “There you go, buddy.” and raising the ramp.

Your heart picked up pace as he approached you, jumping to every possible negative outcome. Most of which were pretty far fetched.

His helmet tilted just slightly to the side. He knew you well enough to know when something was wrong, even on top of an illness. And you were terrible at hiding things from him.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He kneeled beside you and spoke as softly as he could through a modulator. When met with silence, he removed his helmet and scooped you up, setting you on his cot.

“You can tell me, mesh’la” He assured, lifting a hand to the side of your face. You met his eyes, which gazed back at you with gentle worry.

You sighed. Why were you so scared to tell him? This was Din, your Din who loved you and had no problem reminding you. You savored his touch on your face, feeling his thumb brush over your cheek.

“Din, I-” You started hesitantly. “Im pregnant.” His face changed from concern to shock. Which was rightfully so because you may have just dropped the biggest news on him he’d ever heard.

You’ve never heard him stutter before, but he did then. “Y-you’re what?” He responded. You thought at first he really was upset, but then his expression changed again. A smile started building on his face, bringing the rest of his features following suit.

“You’re not joking with me?” He asked, putting his hands on your shoulder. He now sported a huge smile. You haven’t seen him look like this in a long time. It made your heart absolutely leap.

You shook your head. “No, of course not.” you giggled. Din pulled you into him, pressing tender kisses to the side of your head. He now held you delicately, as if you were fragile now that you were carrying his child.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his neck where you stayed for a long time. “We’re going to have a child, Din.” you finally said, muffled against his neck.

“Our ad’ika.” he replied softly, giving a kiss to the top of your head. Your smile grew. Your little clan would soon have another addition. and both of you were no less than thrilled about it.

[morganas-pendragons]

There Is Quiet | Commander Cody and Phantom

tag: @generic-geek-girl​ @erishimoon​ @social-mockingbird​

part one - fox

***

b e f o r e

He married you. He married you, his quiet Phantom, under the flickering lights of Seventy-Nines with his closest brothers as his witnesses.

You'd made a sacred vow to the Marshal Commander of the 212th. A commandment. A promise.

He married you.

And now he was trying to kill you.

It doesn't make any sense. The last thing you had talked about was this quaint little apartment on the Upper Levels of Coruscant that he wanted to buy after the war was over. It always came back to that.

After the war is over.

Nothing was ever over.

The last thing you had talked about was the home you'd have after the war, and now you were falling falling falling down the enormous pit that composed the center of Utapau's main colony and into the water's below.

You were too busy trying to comprehend the fact that the clones had shot you and Obi-Wan off of Boga to realize that the water was coming closer.

Everything hurt the minute you both made impact.

The Force is writhing as you emerge from the water in search of Obi-Wan. His Force Signature is dark, damaged, like he's in physical and emotional pain and can't quite make out why the Force is permeated by such anguish.

You can echo that sentiment.

"Where's the Knight?"

You weren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be on Coruscant, but Obi-Wan had said you would be invaluable for this mission and would be able to oversee the 212th if anything happened to him. You worked as well together as he and Anakin did. 

You weren’t supposed to be here, and now you’re going to die here. 

Every molecule in your body freezes at the sound of the clone's voice. You don't have any recognizable factors to use in order to ascertain who it is. The armor is the same 212th gold as the rest of your boys. There's no special markings to help you recognize him.

What you do recognize is the man who emerges from behind him. You're quick to lower yourself deeper into the water, keeping your breathing quiet as you watch from around the edges of a large rock.

It's Cody. The armor matches, the voice matches, the Force Signature matches.

"I gave the order to shoot her down, soldier," Cody's voice is sharp, calculated. It doesn't sound anything like the man you left only mere days ago with the whispered promise of a future that seems further and further away. "We're under order from Lord Sidious to ensure the bodies of the Jedi are found. Get looking."

Lord Sidious? Who the Kriff is Lord Sidious?

All you're left with are more questions then answers as your survival training kicks in and you're forced to flee the scene in search of your Master. You need to get back to your ship. Get back to the ship, find Obi-Wan, and get the kriff off of this god-forsaken planet.

Padawan-mine. Listen to me.

Your arms are aching by the time you finally drag yourself onto land. Your lightsaber is, thankfully, still attached to your hip. It might be your only saving grace in this situation.

The Vode are not themselves. Cody is not himself. Whatever this is, we will fix it. I swear it. Meet me at the upper east-side landing platform. It's time to flee.

You don't have the heart to grace him with a reply. With a heavy heart, you slowly begin creeping through the lower levels until you're graced with an elevator that leads you to the top.

The moment the doors shut, you break. You can't help it. It feels ridiculous to have once been that Padawan who believed in spoken promises of forever inside of a bar on Coruscant where you'd committed your life to the man you love.

It feels ridiculous to have hoped for something better.

***

This is how it feels to be CC-2224, former Marshal Commander of the GAR and the 7th Sky Corp. Former Marshal Commander of the 212th and husband to Obi-Wan Kenobi's second Padawan, Phantom.

You're plagued by memories of things that become more difficult to recall as time passes following Operation Knightfall. A mission to a droid foundry on Felucia. Fear. Panic. Safely being wrapped in Phantom's arms after finding out your Jedi General is dead. Stolen kisses in quarters on the Negotiator.

All of it seems so far away. Such a long time ago.

It doesn't matter though because it's not something you're ever going to get back. You are one of the highest ranking clones with a singular purpose: To glorify The Emperor and the name of the newly established Empire.

It doesn't matter what you used to call yourself. Cody, husband, friend, brother... None of that matters now.

You are a soldier even if the rest are marching far away. Your twin is dead. The clones are dead. So many clones are dead.

You're a soldier.

And you're meant to press on even if you no longer have the strength to do so.

This is how it feels to be formerly Cody, Commander of the 212th.

Numb.

***

One Year Later, Set During The Bad Batch 2x03

Obi-Wan did the one thing he promised never to do to you: He left you on your own. He left you on your own because Maker forbid he actually tell you that you mattered to him, Maker forbid he dare to love something again after the fall of Anakin Skywalker.

You don't blame him. You don't want to love anything again either. It's not worth it. Hurting because of that is not worth it.

When you, Yoda and Obi-Wan are forced to go your separate ways, he suggests giving up everything you've ever loved and stood for to become someone you aren't. To be rid of Phantom. To be rid of Cody.

Because getting rid of Phantom meant you were no longer the person Cody fell in love with, and that may as well have been the proverbial nail in your nearly finished coffin.

Obi-Wan went to Tatooine. Yoda went to Dagobah.

You went back to Coruscant and found your life on the lower levels until you found something else. It was fun, for a while. Being someone else. Leading a life to forget, even for a moment, about who you were.

The unfortunate truth is that you can never be rid of the core of who you are. And who you are is a Jedi. A Jedi with strict moral values and a compassionate heart that aches to free the clones under the servitude of the Empire.

Most of them don't know about the chips. It had taken a while for you to learn, but through the Rebellion network - and Dove, who you had cried upon reuniting with even briefly - you'd learned the truth about Knightfall and why the clones had turned on you.

Why Cody had shot you both down.

You changed enough of who you were to become who you are now. A shadow. A Spectral. It's not much different from your skills as a Jedi, but it's made you a phenomenal spy.

And that's what's led you right here. Senior officer of the Empire assigned as oversight of the clone squadron now assigned to the mission on Dessix. You've gotten good with a blaster. You've always been good at negotiations, but Rampart has told you that you were tag-teaming this mission with another expert negotiator.

"You will meet him at the battlefield memorial."

There's about twelve hours left until you really have to depart, but you're drawn to go to the memorial anyway. Most of the active patrols are skeleton crews at that point, so nobody will actively be seeking you out.

That's what prompts you to arrive near midnight with the hood of what once was Jedi robes drawn over your head.

It's the make of the helmet that catches your attention. Your eyes are instantly drawn to the antenna on the side. It's the only indication that it's Cody's helmet because none of the vibrant 212th gold is present anymore. Everything he's wearing is a muted grey.

As he approaches - bathed in starlight and under the cover of darkness - the memorial, your Force Signature writhes as it reaches, reaches, reaches in search of his own. There is not a part of your very soul that will not recognize Cody when he is around.

You ache for him. You have always ached for him.

Cody's eyes are scanning the Aurebesh letters for the names of fallen brothers when he hears it. It's a low sound, soft and mournful, a whistling tone that Obi-Wan had taught Phantom during a campaign that could be used to signal troopers from far distances.

Only select people knew it. Obi-Wan, Cody, and you.

He already knew Kenobi was dead. That meant...

Peering into the dark, Cody whispered, "Ner kar'ta?"

Everything came to a screeching halt. That was his voice. Not the monotone, flat voice you’d heard after the impact in the waters of Utapau. It was your husband. Your Cody. 

You whistled again, long and low, daring to peek out from behind the barrier to meet his eyes briefly before you took off in the direction of the dormitories. There had been whispers that the clones were being eradicated and replaced in favor of the ones they’d taken to calling Stormtroopers.

One of the commanders had remained though. He was their renowned. Their best of what used to be. 

It made sense that it would be Cody. 

You took off toward the dormitories in the direction of the higher ranking officers quarters. It was easy to cloak yourself. You’d spent the last year of being in the Empire doing so without any suspicions of being a Jedi. 

You didn’t realize what Cody’s room was until you saw it. The barest mark of a rising sun painted in the upper right corner of the door. It was faded. Just another reminder of what the war had taken from you both. 

Your fingers move of their own accord across the keypad. There’s only one code it could be. 

The day of your wedding flashes on the keypad in front of you before the door slides open and you’re allowed inside. It’s sparsely decorated, as expected, because clones were not allowed to own anything now just like they had not been able to own anything during The Clone Wars. 

Your Jedi had aimed to do things differently then. It’s a shame they’re all gone now. At the bare minimum, Cody should be allowed to own himself. To own the wedding ring he’d gone out of his way to find. 

He doesn’t. He owns nothing. Not his mind, not his heart. 

Nothing. 

You’re left to your own devices as you survey the room, choosing to remain hidden by the window as you absently chew on your thumbnail and wait for the door to open. Anyone in the vicinity that dared to be close enough to you would know how nervous you were by the frantic pounding of your heart. 

You were absolutely terrified. What if he didn’t love you anymore? What if he recognized you weren’t the same? What if he wasn’t the same? 

Was loving Spectral any different than loving Phantom? 

  “Phantom.” 

  “That’s not my name anymore.” 

He’s standing in the doorway by the time you’ve finally roused yourself enough to pay attention. He looks tired. So tired. There’s a perpetual heaviness that has never seemed to leave him in his gait as he walks into his quarters and locks the door before turning back to face you. 

  “The only person I’ve ever known to whistle that sound was Obi-Wan Kenobi’s former Padawan and himself. Considering he’s-” Cody swallows the knot in his throat as the image resurfaces, again and again, because it hasn’t left him once since it happened. “He’s gone. He’s gone, and you’re still here, and I don’t understand why. Not after what I did to you.” 

You take the moment he chooses to talk to carefully nudge his Force Signature with your own. It’s a deep, mournful blue, closed off to anyone else who dare try to know him past the helmet he always wears. The armor is a means of protection, sure, but it’s also a way to keep himself safe from people who try to get inside. 

You were the only one who had ever managed to claw your way into his heart. 

  “I know why you did what you did,” You say softly as you remove your hood to peer up at him. He’s close now. Close enough to touch. “And I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it, Kote.” Daring to jump over the precipice that stands between you, you reach out to press your hand to his chest. 

His heart leaps at your touch. When was the last time he’d been touched that way? In any way that wasn’t hostile? 

  “It doesn’t matter,” He admits quietly. “I still have to live with those choices. I still have to live with the after.” 

  “What came after?” 

It’s a long time before Cody answers, “Quiet. It was quiet.” 

There isn’t a sound for a long time. There doesn’t need to be. You and Cody had always been good at communicating without words, and it seems the same can be said now even after so much time apart. 

Your touch is gentle and reverent as you methodically call into the old habit of removing each piece of his armor until he’s left vulnerable in front of you. Cody’s hands tremble at his sides, unsure of where to find purchase, and he’s left to do nothing except watch as the stack of armor floats to the open spot beside the door. 

  “Cody,” Your voice shakes as you nudge the back of his knees and force him to sit on the couch so you can remove his boots. “I spent this whole year thinking that you were dead. It... It tore me apart. It tore me apart falling from the cliff and being left behind and thinking you were dead for a year. We made a commitment to each other. A vow.” 

  “I stopped thinking of myself as a man when I made the choice to give the order that shot you off of Boga,” Cody admitted quietly. “I broke that vow to you. I tried so hard, Phantom-Phantom, I tried-” 

And it’s only because of the tell tale signs of an impending panic attack that you firmly place Cody’s hands on your hips, slowly easing yourself into the natural part of his legs where he sits on the sofa. 

  “I believe you. I believe you tried, and it’s okay. I would’ve loved you the way I do now even from the grave. It was never your fault.” 

Hm. The vow is till death do us part. Cody is inclined to believe you. 

  “You would’ve loved me even then?” 

You nodded and scooted closer to press your foreheads together in a attempt of a keldabe kiss. He shudders at the contact - it’s like fire spreading through his veins, a fire that is a most welcome burn after being cold for over a year - and leans inward as if his body is naturally seeking more of it. 

  “Even then.” You whisper. 

It’s only through sheer confidence and an aching familiarity long built between you two that coaxes Cody into easing you into his lap. “How are we supposed to do this?” He croaked, dragging his fingers up your sides to tangle in your hair. 

Despite the tightness in your chest, you smile. It’s a question he asked you many times under the cover of darkness of his former quarter’s on the Negotiator. Obi-Wan had never known the depths of quite how much his Marshal Commander had struggled with the weight he carried. 

  “What do you hear?” You ask. 

Cody frowns. “It’s quiet.” He replies. “Very quiet. Usually is in this part of the dorms.” 

You grin and lean forward, just barely hovering a hairs breadth over his own mouth. “Exactly. So embrace the quiet.” 

The full body shudder he gives as you tug on his hair and slant his mouth against yours does not go unnoticed by you. Everything in Cody’s brain short circuits the moment you meet because he’s dreamt about this for over a year. There’s been so many different scenarios that plague his dreams. 

This was one of them. And this one was one of the few that were good. 

Groaning quietly into your mouth, you grin against the curve of the Marshal Commander’s lips and use the opportunity to tease the seam of his own and slip your tongue inside. He still tastes the same. Everything about him is still so much the same. 

You know that even more so when he dares to deepen it. You used to be timid, shy. You used to let him take control because he was already in control of so little anyway, so why not let him have control over one thing that was purely his? 

Now though.. you’re not that timid little Padawan anymore. Where Cody is fire - and he kisses like one that burns rageful - you are the sun. Stand too close and people get burned.

When you do finally find it in you to pull away, Cody’s head rolls and falls into the crevice of your neck. “I’m afraid, Phantom.” He murmurs. “I’m afraid we’re not going to make it out of this alive.” 

It’s a legitimate fear. You’ve had that own fear so many times. 

 “Hey,” Your fingers slide up to the clasps around your neck to remove the second chain that has been sitting on your neck since you went into hiding. “Believe me, I understand that fear. That’s been my life for the last year. But I’m here now.” You lightly tapped the gold ring sitting on the chain and leaned inward to clasp it around his neck. “You have me.” 

You have me. 

Your fingers gently travel up and down the length of his spine as his body gradually relaxes into your own, absorbing as much contact as possible. “I love you.” Cody said quietly. “That may be the one thing that hasn’t changed.” 

Eyes flicker to the window where the moon is at its fullest peak, shards of moonlight breaking through the curtains to fracture against the sharp plains of Cody’s face. You didn’t think it was possible for him to be any more beautiful then he is. 

And it just makes you want him more. 

  “Cody?” 

  “Yeah.” 

His fingers are beginning to skim under your officer’s uniform. Daring, teasing, like they’re threatening to go higher but remain unsure if the situation allows for it. 

With that same tenacious spark of fire that’s always lingered in your eyes, you lean backward and take one hand into his own to firmly place it on the bottom of your shirt. 

Hm. Maybe you really haven’t changed all that much. 

  “We never did quite get to consummate our wedding night,” You tease. ‘’You know. With the war and all.” 

You have twelve hours until you deploy. You don’t even know if you’ll see him again after that, and then the loud buzzing and the ever-constant screaming in the Force will be your only constant companion again once the quiet, 

Cody seems to get what you’re saying because the next thing he’s doing is dragging your body down onto the couch and covering it with his own. 

  “I like your thinking, wife.” 

*** 

a f t e r. 

It’s him that makes the choice to go AWOL. The early hours of the morning greet you before you can fully fall into the kind of sleep your body is aching for - Dessix was hard, harder then you’ve had in years, and attempting to act as if you aren’t fearful for Cody’s life when it’s nearly taken is the most difficult thing you’ve done - and you naturally rise with the gentle click of the lock as the door to your quarters opens. 

You are running hand in hand with Cody less than an hour later. Getting around the patrols is not difficult, neither is procuring a vehicle, but there’s something oddly warm that settles in your chest once you are out of Coruscanti airspace and away from there. 

Warm. It feels so warm. It takes you a minute to realize that it’s Cody. Cody, who used to wear sunshine gold and had gotten a tattoo of a rising sun on his hipbone the day after you’d gotten married - Maker, the sounds he made when you kissed it - and who had spent so long being warm, wrapped in the love of his brothers, that he’d forgotten what it was like to be cold. 

The blue had shifted into a brilliant gold and only seemed to get brighter the longer you were around. 

  “So, Phantom.” Your husbands drawl is smooth and confident as he spins in the pilot’s chair to face you. There is not an echo of the traumatized, anguished man you had held the night before. You know he’s just lurking underneath the surface. Regardless, it’s still nice to see Cody smile. “Where to?” 

  “I’ll go anywhere you want,” You reply with a wink. “Just not home. You pick.” 

  “How about everywhere?” 

  “Everywhere sounds wonderful, rid’uur.” 

This is how it feels to be Phantom, former Jedi Knight, defected Imperial Officer and spy. 

Safe. 

[daydream-cement]

Suits and Hallways (NSFW)

Captain Phasma x Reader

Phasma notices you staring.

First weekend in Smutember with @alexusonfire! The first week prompt is formal wear!

When you were invited to attend the officer gala, you hadn’t been expecting to be put in such a position as this. With your pressed against the cold metal wall, you felt your dress being shifted upwards around your hips. 

You had on your formal dress, putting your best foot forward to make an impression on your higher ups. You thought you had done so when Phasma approached you. Moments ago you had been summoned to the deserted hallway by your captain, and with a viscous degree of roughness, Phasma had you up against the wall. 

“Your eyes have been wandering far too much. You are beyond obvious with those disgusting thoughts of yours.” Phasma hissed, her hands working into the waistband of your underwear. It was unceremonious - the way the captain pushed her fingers between your folds and felt her way to your clit.

“Wet already? 

You could only whimper. This felt so wrong. This was so unbecoming of a person of your status in the Empire. But you gave yourself over entirely, unable to say no to the alluring and handsome captain. This evening, she had been wearing a formal captain’s uniform that made your mouth water. The jacket fit her muscular shoulders perfectly and her pants were cut tight enough that nothing was left to the imagination. Your gaze must have caught her attention.

“You’re so fucking pathetic.” Phasma whispered, pressing the pads of her index and middle finger against your clit to rub circles against the bundle of nerves. The pressure of Phasma’s hand against the side of your head only seemed to increase as the degradation continued.

Phasma growled once more, her body weight fully pushed against you. Her voice was low and guttural, almost as if she were angry with you. In reality, it was all just a way to make sure she held dominance over you. “Do you like this? Do you like being treated like a stupid little slut?”

You remained silent, but this was clearly not the response the captain wanted. She pushed your face against the metal harder and the intensity of it all made tears prick in your eyes.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like being treated like a- a stupid little slut…”

“That’s what I thought.”

The grip on your face loosened slightly as her fingers went back to work, circling your soaked clit with increased fervor. Her breath was hot in your ear as she panted slightly. If you could have see. her face, you would have seen the mild look of enjoyment plastered across her lips and brow.

The captain’s fingers worked their way back towards your slick heat and you gasped quietly as she wedged her fingers into your cunt. She offered you no time to adjust to her lengthy digits when she began pumping them in and out at a building pace. 

Your little moans became more and more frequent. In spite of this, you attempted stifling them by clenching your teeth. When this failed, you drew a hand to your mouth and clamped your hand over it. 

Phasma disapproved of this action and made her dissatisfaction known by releasing your head from her grasp and wrenching both of your hands behind your back. She held your wrists in a vice grip and began slowing her movements in your underwear, teasing you to the point you felt as if you could explode. 

“P-please…” You begged Phasma, but she wasn’t interested in your pleas. 

“You think you have the right to ask me for anything?” Phasma scoffed as her fingers left your cunt to wad the fabric of your underwear around her fist. There was the sound of seams popping and the discomforting pain that was Phasma ripping the fabric off your body. “Fucktoys don’t get a say.”

At the feeling of the cold night air against your pussy, you felt terribly exposed. Anyone could walk from the gala at any second and watch you being dominated by your captain.

Her fingers dove back into your cunt, pushing their way into your fluttering hole. The pleasure of being filled again had you doubling over - your forehead pressed to the cold metal wall while your hands were still ratcheted behind your back. Phasma began pounding your cunt with her fingers - the removal of your underwear was her way of removing the barrier that kept her from doing so earlier.

Your cheeks turned red when you thought you heard the slap of her hand against your cunt echoing through the empty hall. You were praying no one would find you, but first and foremost, you needed to cum.

“How long have you been wanting me to do this? Have you been watching me in the locker room? Or do you just fantasize about what’s under the armor? Is that why you can’t control yourself now?” From Phasma’s tone, one could tell she was smirking. She was so satisfied with herself for making another of her subordinates crumble. 

“Y-you look so good in your suit…” You sob, unable to be dishonest about what drove you to stare.

“I know.”

The captain’s confidence was unbelievably sexy. 

Suddenly, and without warning, you came hard, a strangled cry jumping from your throat. But Phasma wasn’t stopping there. Her rapid fingering continued, only now she released your arms and added her other hand to the mix. With her opposite hand, she began rubbing at your clit and you felt yourself losing all control. 

“Silly little slut. What if the other lieutenants saw you like this? How would you feel?”

The captain was obviously trying to get a rise out of you, combining shame with your growing desire. 

The skill held in her fingers made you dizzy. You knew if you ever had the chance to spend the night with her, Phasma would show you pleasures far beyond pushing you against a wall and fucking you silly. 

As Phasma worked you towards another orgasm, a round of applause echoed from inside the gala hall. As much as you should have considered the possibility of someone exiting into the hall at any moment, you were far too focused on being pushed over the edge. 

You finally came from Phasma slamming her fingers inside you, tipping you over the edge. Before you could process the blinding orgasm, Phasma growled, her hand squeezing your jaw into submission. “Open your mouth…”

You opened your mouth the rest of the way and quickly realized Phasma intended on spitting in your mouth. You allowed it to happen, regardless. At this point, your only goal was appeasing her to hopefully make this occurrence happen again.

“Now get back to your quarters and clean yourself up.” Phasma pushed your face away from hers, and swatted you firmly on the ass, sending you on your way.

“Y-yes, captain.” You mutter, sending your gaze to the floor. Quickly, you began down the hallway - your face growing redder and redder as the realization of what just occurred hit you. 

Before you could round the corner, you glanced back at Phasma, unable to help yourself. Your breath caught as you watched her push your discarded underwear into her pocket. You tore your gaze away and hurried down the hallway - face bright red as you attempted to comprehend what just happened.

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @enchantressb , @renravens @scream-queenlover , @shyladyfan , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess , @larissaoftarthweems , @principal-weems09 , @imlike-so-gaydude , @emilynissangtr , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @oculusalien , @giogwensversion , @milciak @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 @bychrissi , @h-doodles , @alexusonfire , @weemssapphic

[d4yl1ghts]

safe

anakin skywalker x jedi, wife, fem!reader

summary: anakin feels bad after accidentally harming you whilst training

warnings: injury

-

You were currently working on using the force with your secret husband, Anakin Skywalker, the ‘chosen one’. You had never been strong with the force but to be a powerful Jedi you must conquer the use of the force and so here you were. Your skills lie with your lightsaber as you are quite agile and impulsive in battle, leading you to make quick decisions. Anakin’s main priority was his lightsaber too but he was very good at using the force, leading him to train you.

Anakin was teaching you how to choke someone with the force and so to demonstrate he was doing it on you. Unfortunately he hadn’t realised you were at a loss of breath due to his focus on the force. He suddenly heard a thud and you had passed out due a lack of oxygen. “Shit.”, he muttered towards himself. He hastily yet carefully picked you up and took you to the medical bay to get your vitals checked and to see if there would be a lasting injury.

As you came to term with your surroundings, you felt a familiar cool hand against your warm one. Anakin.

You could barely remember what happened, only that you had been training your force skills. Turning your head towards Anakin, you questioned: “What happened, Ani?”

You took note of his guilty look and his avoidance of eye contact. “We were practicing the force.”, he paused. “I was teaching you how to choke people.”, he paused yet again, struggling to find the correct words. “I got distracted whilst I was using the force on you and you went for too long with out oxygen and fainted.”, he simply stated, making no eye contact. “Oh.”, you said in response, slightly shocked. You now knew why he looked so guilty.

“I’m fine, though, right?”, you asked as you looked around at the medical equipment. “Yes, my love, I requested that they keep you here for another night as I can’t take the risk of anything happening to you.”

Your cheeks heated up, he was so thoughtful towards you.

You had only now taken notice of the loss of contact from his metal hand. You reached out for his arm but he instinctively pulled away. You frowned in confusion. “What’s wrong, Ani?”

“I caused you harm.”, he replied. Anakin finally glanced up at you with tears in his stunning eyes. “How can I forgive myself when I hurt you?”

You shook your head slightly: “Baby, it was only an accident, you were distracted.” You brushed his hair away from his eyes as he leaned into your soft touch.

“I’m so sorry, my love, I promise I will never hurt you again.”, Anakin stated confidently. He stared at you with such devotion that you thought you would melt. He placed his robotic fingers under your chin and tilted your face up towards his and tenderly kissed you with so much passion that you could feel his apology through the kiss. “I love you.”, he said once he broke away for air.