#crosshair x vader

[knightprincess]

Always (Crosshair x Jedi Reader) Part 29

Warning: Major character(s) death. Tissues advised 

Words: 2.2K A/N: Just the epilogue to go after this. May the force be with you x 

"Are you sure about this?" questioned Rex, looking to (Y/N) as they landed on Dathomir once again. The former Jedi Knight, known galaxy wide as the Princess, looked to the captain, uncertainty in her own eyes. She knew Vader was on her home world, finally curiosity had gotten the better of him. Finally she had gotten his attention. Rex knew better than most, how much (Y/N) had hope her best friend and his former General was okay, he'd somehow escaped the massacre and gone into hiding. Something he'd hoped for too. Although he had also forced himself to acknowledge the alternative. Anakin Skywalker was dead as the imperial files suggested.

"I have to know. I just hope my instincts are wrong this time" voiced (Y/N), noticing the look the pair of Rex and Echo shared. Both could hear the pain lacing through her voice. Both could hear the dread, fear and uncertainty ringing in her voice, despite her best attempts to hide them. "If anything goes wrong, run and rejoin with the others" added the former Jedi Knight, closing her eyes and swallowing the lump beginning to form in her throat. Stepping from the Ghost Marauder shortly after, her lightsaber at the ready, as she expected trouble. After all it was unwise for one to face a Sith Lord and not expect trouble or a trap.

Echo followed along behind, her words stinging in a way few others had before. Her order wasn't as it appeared to be. It was her subtly saying, if something went wrong she would give them the time to escape, even if that cost her own life. Something the Arc Trooper found himself uncomfortable with. She expected the worst to happen but didn't say why. Even Rex seemed uncomfortable with the idea, although his attention was temporarily on his communicator, where Hunter's smokey voice uttered some incoherent words.

"I've been waiting for you" came a mechanical voice. The owner of which seemed to be hiding within the ruins of the nearby temple, as proven by (Y/N)'s attention being directed towards it. Ignoring the forgotten battlefield the trio found themselves in the middle of, even now years after the Night Sister massacre, droid parts still scattered the baron lands, a few scorched and dead trees dotted here and there.

"What happened here?" quested Echo, noticing both B1 and 2 battle droids scattered, some had been mangled, while others had a strikes similar to the ones Omega's bow would cause, blasted upon them. Dotted among the droids were bodies, the fallen Night Sister's whom hadn't been spared the courtesy of a proper burial. The forgotten battlefield also serving as a cemetery.

"Grievous, attack and destroyed the clans during the last year of the war. Like the Jedi, what remain of the sisters are scattered across the galaxy. The brothers did what they could to honor them, but they mainly protect Merrin now" replied (Y/N), recalling when she'd asked the same question to Maul upon returning home again. She'd always believed the Night Sisters were invincible. After all they had the power to raise the dead if they felt threatened. "The emperor's orders" whispered (Y/N), yet another reason why she'd never support the Empire. Another reason she was determined to help bring it down.

As if waiting for the best moment for a dramatic entrance. An intimidating figure appeared from the shadows of the old temple, accompanied by deep, mechanical breathing. His black cape blowing behind him, as he slowly advanced towards them. (Y/N) didn't move, instead become more determined, even if her previous serious expression and turned into one of sadness. As if she'd just realize something. Echo and Rex took up defensive stances, ready to fight should they need to, both of them aiming their guns towards the unknown mechanical figure.

"It can't be" whispered (Y/N), not igniting her lightsaber. She was determined this wouldn't end in a duel, although she suspected that was likely what would happen anyway. "Rex, Echo, troopers west side" spoke the princess, upon attuning her senses once more, quickly realizing the trap, and refusing to allow Rex and Echo to go down with her. Instead she sent them to the troopers, giving them there best chance at surviving at the same time. "What happened to you, Anakin?" shakingly questioned the former Jedi Knight, still in disbelief the Sith Lord before her, the fist of the Empire, was none other than her former best friend, the chosen one.

"Anakin Skywalker was weak" responded the Sith Lord with malice in his mechanical voice, the eyes of his mask making it appear as if they were empty voids into an endless abyss. "I killed him" effortlessly added Darth Vader, looking to the woman whom had asked so many questions before, the woman whom he suspected already knew the truth but had denied it. Vader soon stepped towards the Princess, his masters orders in the forefront of his mind. Retrieve and return her to empire. Although the Sith apprentice was beginning to see that was going to be a far more difficult task than original thought. It was clear the Princess wasn't going anywhere willingly.

"My master has been looking for you since your escape. He will be pleased with your return" uttered the mechanical voice, deep and unbroken. The words direct, bringing (Y/N) from her trance of sadness as all her memories over powered her. She soon shook her head, pushing the overwhelming feelings away, concentrating on the Sith Lord before her, the man to have once been her best friend.

"I wont return to the Empire. I refuse to be another porn in the Emperor's game. I wont turn my back on the people who need me" voiced (Y/N) with anger and hatred stinging her voice. She hated the Emperor for taking almost everything she cared for and loved away, she hated the empire for what it was and what it stood for. For reminding her of the people she lost when the republic and order fell at the end of the war.

"Then you will die" uttered the mechanical voice, that drowned out the softness Anakin once had.

"So be it" replied (Y/N) with absolute as she ignited her own lightsaber. Noticing the Havoc Marauder land nearby, something that only served to ignite her determination even more. She had to protect her small squad and Rex. She had to protect Omega. She had to protect her family and lover.

Within a split second, their lightsabers clashed. Vader's red one smashing against her own one with hatred but also restraint. Where as (Y/N)'s blue duel bladed one serving to protect her from the strike and also make it more difficult for Vader to catch her off guard. There duel reminiscent of the one Obi-wan had once spoke of all those years ago on Naboo. The duel that had cost his master's life and brought the Sith's return to light. Although this time the roles were somewhat reversed, she the Jedi Knight had the duel bladed lightsaber, where as the now Sith Lord held a singleton.

Out of nowhere blaster bolts effortless flew past (Y/N). They would have hit Vader had he not moved to deflect them, he seemed just as taken back by the fire as she did. Although the former Jedi Knight had the advantage of knowing whom had fired them, although his position was anyone's guess. From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Hunter running after Omega, whom was heading in her direction. Vader too noticing the pair, quickly he deflected Hunter's blaster bolts and Omega's shots, redirecting them at Crosshair's position.

"Cross!" yelled (Y/N), feeling her heart drop, as fear of losing him for good clenched at her from the inside out. Vader's soon redirected some of the bolts back at Hunter and Omega, a few of them in her direction, as if attempting to force her to choose between whom got her attention. Him or the pair of clones. Relief soon washed over (Y/N), upon hearing Crosshair respond to Tech with a snide comment. With that (Y/N) launched at Vader again, determined to protect those she had left, no matter that cost of doing so.

"Run Omega" called (Y/N), calling for her apprentice to run, even when the young girl was attempting to fight at her side. Although the former Jedi Knight appreciated what Omega was trying to do, she was also well aware the younger clone didn't have the skills needed to fight against a Sith Lord. This was one of the occasions where (Y/N) hoped Omega would act with her head instead of heart. "Hunter, get her out of here" yelled (Y/N), her determination reignited to ensure Omega's survival, something she appeared to share with the others there.

Once again blaster bolts took Vader's attention off of (Y/N), although this time coming from Echo, who made no effort to hide. Crosshair had since come down from his perch, helping Tech and Wrecker nearby, while Rex redirected his attention to ensuring Omega's was safely stowed away aboard one of the ships. Tech soon joined in the effort at Hunter's order, the Sargent turning back in a effort to retrieve (Y/N) too, refusing to leave another behind. Refusing to allow his family to be broken again.

"(Y/N)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Screamed Crosshair, his screams gut-wrenching as his heart sank and began to crack and break. Without a second thought he ran towards her. As did Hunter. Both of them had bared witness to (Y/N)'s lightsaber being destroyed, they'd both helplessly watched as she'd been struck down by Vader. In the confusion, Echo had been struck by enemy fire, leaving Wrecker to hold the front on his own. As if a sign of mercy, Vader called off the troopers under his command, he'd been about to walk away when both Crosshair and Hunter began firing upon him again, just like before the Sith Lord effortlessly deflected each bolt.

"Crosshair, get to (Y/N). I'll handle him" ordered the Sargent, knowing none of them would be focusing right now, least of all Crosshair. Whom had just had his heart torn from his chest and shredded before him. Despite Hunter's best efforts, he wasn't a match for the Sith Lord, something the enhanced clone was well aware of. "Get out of here!" yelled the protective clone, knowing Echo was injured. He knew Crosshair wouldn't leave (Y/N) and he wasn't about to leave Crosshair again. "GO TECH"

Mere moments after those words left Hunter's lips, he'd been struck by the blaster bolts being deflected back at him. Crosshair once again calling out for another he loved, his voice even more broken than before. In his arms was his beloved (Y/N), she hadn't responded to him, she'd only lay motionless in his arms, seemingly peaceful. Vader on the other hand left, ignoring Crosshair as if he wasn't even there, walking away after if he hadn't just shattered someone's world and ripped away a reason for living.

Slowly Crosshair dragged (Y/N) with him, tired and heartbroken. Slowly he made his way over to Hunter, his brother still alive, although fading quickly. Maul had appeared now, helping by pulling Hunter just a little closer, his own heart breaking to see his daughter had fallen. Gently Maul took her hand, willing to her to wake up, even when he knew she was already gone. The Marauder reappeared shortly after, Omega being the first off the ship with tears in her eyes, Rex and Tech following behind trying their hardest to keep it together, as Wrecker appeared carrying Echo.

"Hunter" softly called Omega, running to his side. "No, not you too. I can't lose you please, we can get you back to the ship. We can get you help" cried Omega, her vision going blurry from the tears flooding her cheeks. She'd already been forced to say goodbye to Echo, (Y/N) she hadn't gotten the chance to. She didn't want to lose Hunter, not now, not ever. Maul placed a hand on her shoulder, offering comfort in a similar way to how he did with (Y/N) as a child. Omega soon reached out for Hunter's hand, as Crosshair wrapped (Y/N) in his own arms. Rex doing a similar thing with Echo, his brother whom had gone through hell and back.

"They're at peace now" whispered Maul, as Hunter's struggle to survive come to an end. "Bury them together" added the former Sith Lord, turning his attention to his only child. Seeing how peaceful she looked despite the large gash going from her shoulder to hip. She looked as if she was sleeping, finally free from all her pain and torment, finally her nightmare was over. "Remember this young apprentice, they'll always be with you, in here. One day we'll all see them again" whispered the grieving father, placing a hand over Omega's heart as he spoke. Making an effort to wipe away her tears and offer her some sort of comfort.

"Why did you leave me Cyar'ika" tearfully spoke Crosshair, his beloved weapon discarded at his side, his heart broken as he felt his world shatter. Whenever he'd thought about the future, (Y/N) had always been apart of it. Now she'd been ripped away, his reason for fighting was gone. What else did he have left to fight for now. His brothers wouldn't trust him again, Omega likely hated him at this point. Echo the brother to have fought for him had joined his Runi in peaceful death. Tech and Wrecker would be lost without Hunter, as would Omega, although she could fall back on Rex and now Maul. All Crosshair felt he had left now was the need for revenge. He wanted vengeance, the Empire had now taken everything from him. What more could he lose.

Masterlist 

[felinaone]

Hello everyone! how are you all doing? I hope great

I'm feeling inspired to write more again so i just wanted to this post to remind you that i have requests open!

so send me anything a imagine of your favorite star wars character or a prompt from my list (will leave it on my pinned post) and i will try to I'll make as much as i can <3

I write for:

Anakin Skywalker/ Darth Vader

Obi Wan Kenobi

Din Djarin

Boba Fett

The Bad Batch

[huntershoe]

Back to you

Hunter x Jedi!reader

Spoilers for the bad batch season 3 :)

Summary: After a long time, you're finally reunited with your family and your lover.

Warning: Canon violence, Mention of mental and physical torture, slight depressing state, hurt/comfort. Fluff!

A/N: Let me know if anyone would like part two. I was planning on making it spicy ;}

Word count: 2.4k

Part two

It's been months since you got a distress signal from one of your fellow surviving Jedi. Months since you managed to rescue your Jedi friend but sacrifice your own freedom. Months since you've seen your family and your lover.

The last thing you remember from when you were still with the batch was when you were all on Pabu, helping the people restore the beautiful ocean city while you were waiting to get any word from Echo as he helped Rex.

When the only thing missing was Crosshair.

You got the distress signal the same day Echo said he would visit. You knew you couldn't wait for your friend to visit, so with a tight hug, a long and loving kiss and a promise to return safely and quickly, you set the course for your Jedi friend.

Unfortunately, your plan wasn't Vader proof and you ended up captured, switching your place with your friend who managed to escape. You waited for your end, silently apologizing to Hunter and your family, but it never came. Instead, Darth Vader decided you would make a great addition to the imperial inquisitors, so they tried to break you, in every possible way.

For months, they tortured you mentally and physically, leaving you crying and barely alive at the end of every day. But you never broke, no matter what they did to you, you didn't break. There were times when it came close, but thinking of your batch and Hunter gave you strength to fight on.

So when the first opportunity to escape came, you took it. Doing everything in you capacity, even if it meant you'd have to tap into the dark side of the force. Your body had been weakened in the past months, your skin now covered in scars but that didn't stop you and you managed to escape, hijacking an imperial ship and running.

It seemed that even the force was on your side once you coincidentally run into Echo, Rex and the newly forming Clone resistance. But all your happiness disappeared once Echo informed you of the loss they suffered almost immediately you were gone. All those months, just the idea of coming back to your family and how everything would be perfect once again. Everything fell apart and you felt like you were once again in that cold prison cell, waiting for the inquisitors to torture you again. You were falling into the dark abyss, ashamed to even show yourself to Hunter and Wrecker.

It wasn't until Echo came looking for you, four days later. His body radiating happy energy as he practically jumped on you, hugging you and telling you that both Omega and Crosshair managed to escape and were now safely with Hunter and Wrecker on Pabu.

That made you hyperactive, filling you with energy and will to live and both you and Echo were in the ship only few hours later, crossing the galaxy to get back to your family once again.

Three days later you finally made it to Pabu, docking the ship at the top of the city. But while waiting for the ship to touch the ground in a matter of those seconds, your mind betrayed you. Suddenly all you wanted to do was to hide in the corner and dissappear, all those happy thoughts dissappeard, instead being replaced with dark and hateful thoughts. You imagined how Hunter must hate you now that you only returned once everything was alright again. How you dissappeard when they needed you the most. Maybe he's even blaming you for everything bad that happened to his family. Or maybe Omega's the one who hates you now, maybe she thinks that you betrayed them, leaving your family to help someone else.

Your whole body was shaking and you felt like you would faint and when the ramp finally began to descend and the sun shined on your face, Echo had to gently grab you because you swayed like a fragile flower in the wind.

Both you and Echo managed to take a few steps down the ramp before you heard a loud yell. Omega screamed yours and Echo's name, sprinting full speed at you, making you react the same. You yelled her name and she jumped in your arms as you quickly prepared to catch her, hugging her close to you as you began crying, peppering her face with kisses and petting her hair. You managed to crouch with Omega in front of you as you grabbed her cheeks and looked at her more closely, checking for any injuries as she cried telling you how much she missed you.

But as soon as Omegas eyes fell on your face her expression fell as well.

"What happened to your face!" Big tears began rolling down her cheeks as she looked at you. Similar to your body, your face was now littered with both small and big scars, some more visible than the others.

It's been months since you've seen Omega, the young female clone that had unexpectedly entered your life and become like a daughter to you. And after so long, you didn't want your scars to be the first thing you talk about, it was too dark subject to address in the first moments of reunion. So you moved your hands up to her hair, trying to change the subject to something happier.

"Look at your hair! It's grown so much!" You laughed through your tears as you played with the little girl's hair.

"I know, now you can finally braid my hair!" The young girl knew what your were trying to do and played along giggling as she mirrored your hands movements and played with your hair.

You were just about to respond when you both got interrupted by someone whispering your name. Your head snapped behind Omega, falling on a frozen figure, Hunter.

Your body went rigid, completely frozen in time when your eyes meet with his golden ones. Omegas eyes followed yours and once she saw Hunter standing there silently watching, she hugged you one last time before slowly removing herself from you and running towards waiting Echo.

Now that Omega was no longer in front of you, you stood up slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he watched your every move like he couldn't believe you were really there.

Your hands began shaking again and you grabbed your sleeves to try and stop them but to no avail.

"Hunter?"

You whispered back to him, taking a small step towards him. He said nothing, but his body moved and he was by you in the next second, his hands enveloping your body as his own crashed against yours. He squeezed you almost as hard as he could, fearing that if he wouldn't, you would've disappeared again. Hunter buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as your hands slowly stopped shaking and you moved them up into his hair. Your forehead fell on his shoulder as you finally closed your eyes, taking in his warm presence. You both stood there for a long minute, not moving as you both tried to soak in each other's warmth.

You felt Hunter deeply inhale once again, his breath tickling your neck, before his lips pressed against the same spot and he kissed you. Repeating the movement kissing up your neck, slowly coming to your face as his hands moved up to your neck, and his thumbs landed on your cheeks as his eyes found yours again. Hunter breathed out your name again, his face so close to yours.

"I thought I lost you..." His normally smoky voice sounded broken, quiet, like he was worried he would scare you away if he'd talk any louder. His own hands began to shake slightly as he gently turned your face around, his eyes jumping from scar to scar.

"Hunter, I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you, I really did but they-" You tried explaining yourself as his eyes found yours again.

"When your ship returned I thought to myself at least I got one of my girls back...but then only General Prima came out and she could barely look me in the eyes to tell me what happened..." Hunter let out a sigh as his thumb traced the scar across your lips.

"...I thought I lost you and I couldn't bare to even think of what they're doing to you...I tried get you back every day, you and Omega..." He went on slowly and quietly, his other thumb tracing the scar across your eye.

"I'm so sorry Hunter-" You tried to apologise again but he interrupted you again with his thumb on your lips.

"Just...just promise me to never leave me again...I...I can't live without you." Hunter whispered as one tear left his eye and you moved your hand to his cheek, brushing it away as he leaned into your touch.

"I promise Hunter, never again." You nodded your head as you promised him, your own tears escaping you again and you moved your head, leaning your forehead against his.

Hunter let out a gentle puff of air, making your lips tingle as the air hit them. His own lips ghosting over yours as he whispered. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ka'ra."

A small smile appeared on your lips and you gently nodded. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ashi dul."

You responded and finally moved, pressing your lips against his into a long and loving kiss.

Hunter's hands moved back down to your waist and he pulled you closer again as his kiss turned more desperate.

Your own hands moved around his neck as you pulled yourself impossibly closer, a small sound escaping you as Hunters hand squeezed your hip and he took the chance to deepen the kiss. His tongue prodded against your lips as he entered your mouth in almost like urgent matter.

You let him take the reins and followed his tempo, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you again.

"Okay, you can continue doing that later! Now it's my turn!" You heard Wrecker before another set of arms snaked around you and Hunter, squeezing you even further and lifting you in the air. Both you and Hunter gasped, breaking the kiss to look at the gentle giant as he hugged you, leaning his head on your shoulders. You chuckled, grinning and squeezing one arm out and moving it to gently pat Wreckers head. "I missed you too Wrecker." Even Hunter managed a chuckle as he heard his brother sniffle quietly.

"We're never splitting ever again." Wrecker decided as he slowly put them down and brushed the tears from his eyes away. "Agreed." You nod, grabbing the giant clone's hand and squeezing it.

"What, no hug for me?" Crosshair's sly snake like voice asked as he came closer and crossed his arms in front of his chest an amused frown on his face. Your head turned in his direction and a wide smile grew on your lips and you gently let go of Wrecker and moved around Hunter, letting your hands to drag across his chest as you stepped closer to his youngest brother. "Crosshair!" You grinned and quickly moved closer to him, enveloping him into a big hug. Your movement surprised him greatly as he was expecting a glare and a witty remark instead you hugged him.

His arms were awkwardly waiting at his sides, debating if he should hug you back or push you away. Alas, you were the only one that hugged him so far and he'd be lying to himself if he'd say he didn't need a hug. So he let his arms slowly sneak around your body and he hugged you back, silently laying his head on top of yours.

"I'm glad you're back with us again." You whispered just loud enough for him to hear and you felt his breath hitch.

He slowly let go of you and stepped back a little, watching the scars across your face.

"Come on, you have to meet Batcher!" Omega gasped, grabbing your hand out of nowhere and pulling you towards what looked to be a  excited Lurca hound, running around and chasing Moon-yos. You chuckled at the enthusiasm of the little girl and looked back behind you to your lover and the rest of your family, only to see Hunter slightly glaring at Crosshair and Echo rolling his eyes and pushing the former Sergeant, encouraging him to move, while Wrecker only laughed and followed closely.

Omega managed to introduce you to the lively hound, telling you how she helped her and how they bonded over the time as they managed to survive the empire. Batcher seemed to be the perfect energetic pet for Omega as they began playing together, almost forgetting everyone else that was watching them.

You felt a warm hand on the small of your back and a moment later a warm body pressed against your side as Hunter lowered his head to whisper in your ear. "Come on, you must be starving." He pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as you turned your head to look at him. "A little, yeah." You confirmed and Hunter motioned with his head to his brothers, before gently pushing you towards the house reserved for the batch.

Hunter whistled, making Omegas and Batchers heads turn, motioning them to follow too.

The shining sun had slowly began to descend as they sat down around the table after they put on some food. They snacked on the delicious fruits, talking about everything, just like they did in the old days, while they watched Omega and Batcher play.

The moment felt perfect, besides the one empty chair, remaining everyone that they will never be complete again. Everything else felt normal, Crosshair's witty remarks, Wrecker's compliments to the food, Echo trying to talk about another one of his missions and Hunter silently trying to listen to everyone as his hand slowly fell on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure you and himself that this moment is in fact real.

Translation:

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - Mandalorian way of saying "I love you"

Ner ka'ra - My star

Ner ashi dul - My other half

[vodika-vibes]

if you don't mind, could I have topaz with crosshair in the summer please? ❤️

Enjoy The Show

Summary: Crosshair doesn't get to spend much time together with his kitten, what with the Empire hounding his every step, and having to go on missions for the Rebellion. But every now and then he makes it his mission to spend time with you.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 548

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, this is based in the AU that I'm half building where the situation in TBB is switched. So, Crosshair's chip never activated but the others did. Crosshair was forced to join the Rebellion in a desperate attempt to protect Omega.

The summer air is thick with humidity and the crowds of people moving around Crosshair hum with an excitement that feels inappropriate with the state of the galaxy.

His Kitten tells him that people need things to celebrate, or else they would fall into despair, and he knows that she’s probably right. She usually is about these things.

And while Crosshair would, usually, never dare to step foot on Naboo —it’s common knowledge that Vader watches this planet like a hawk— today is different.

Today is Queen’s Day.

And no one cares about one silver haired clone…or, more importantly, the woman he’s here to meet up with. 

Crosshair drops some credits at a food stall, ordering two pita sandwiches, and then follows the crowd of people for a time, before he veers off towards the lake. 

And…there. Sitting on the dock, her feet dipped in the water, her head tilted backwards to focus her gaze on the darkening sky. “Am I late?” Crosshair asks as he steps on the dock.

Her head tilts backwards, and she beams at him, “Not at all. I got here early.” Crosshair walks over to her and sits on the dock next to her, close enough that he’s pressed against her side.

“Not too early, I hope?”

“Hm.” Her smile is warm and fond, and Crosshair feels a surge of affection, “I spent the majority of the day with my family, Cross. No need to fret.” She takes the sandwich that he offered her, and then leans her head against his shoulder, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“As if I would miss a date with you.”

She laughs softly, and rubs her cheek against his shoulder. Crosshair flashes her a small smile and hooks his arm around her waist, pulling her into a tight side hug.

There are a lot of things that need to be said. Offers that need to be made. It’s only a matter of time before people start to realize that she’s the Rebellion’s inside person on Naboo, and Crosshair wants her safe before anyone figures it out.

But those are all conversations for later.

“Are we going to be able to see the fireworks from here?” Crosshair asks.

She nods, “Yeah, I think it’s the best location. No one comes here to watch them, they’d rather climb up to the roofs of the buildings.” She makes a face, “So it’s quiet. Private.”

“You just wanted to get me alone.” Crosshair teases.

She tilts her head to look at him, her smile soft and warm, “Well. You’re not wrong.”

Crosshair keeps his gaze locked with her as the first of the fireworks shoots up to the sky. Red and blue blossom across the dark sky, taking the form of intricate blossoms.

But he can’t tear his gaze off of her. 

Off the way she looks under the moonlight.

Off the way the fireworks reflect in her gaze.

Crosshair’s hand comes up to cup to her face, and he leans in to press his lips, gently, against hers.

He feels her sigh into the kiss, and he feels her relax against him as she allows him to control the intensity of the kiss, and Crosshair is pretty sure that he’s never loved anyone as much as he loves her.

[iggy5055]

Masterlist

Asked are always open

One piece:

Yandere Whitebeard Pirates x reader Part 1

Star wars:

The bad batch:

Imperial Crosshair x reader

Darth vader/ emperor anakin:

Yandere Emperor Darth Vader x reader Part 1

Yandere-Emperor Darth Vader x reader Part 2

More Soon!!!

Yandere! Platonic Batfam (Completed):

These are my works. For parts 1-3 go to:  https://blughxreader.tumblr.com/ All credit for the story goes to her.

Part:4 Part:5 Part:6 Part:7 Part:8 Part:9 

Part:10

[starrylothcat]

First of all, thank you to all my followers and mutuals. If you follow me for my writing or my unhinged reblogging, I appreciate all of you from the bottom of my heart! Sorry it took me a minute to put this together! This was a fun event to run, and big hugs to everyone who sent in their shout-outs. Please check out everything on this list, there's a lot of wonderful content from even more wonderful creators! (Linking and formatting on Tumblr is wonky so if I made any mistakes or links don't work, please let me know!) Masterlist under the cut!

⭐Fanfiction⭐

Glitch’s Masterlist - OC Masterlist by @techs-stitches

Masterlist of OC Glitch x Tech

In More Ways Than One (NSFW) The Bad Batch x F Reader by @madameminor

A night out with the Batch almost turns into a bar brawl, until your quick thinking sets up the perfect cover. Then your squad starts thinking it doesn't have to stay a cover. Sharing is caring, after all.

Fireworks - Hound x F Reader by @imarvelatthestars

Reader meets Hound after her massiff makes a run for it. Will romance blossom?

Dance With Me - Echo x Reader by @kaminocasey

You're cleaning the ship, listening to music, and Echo gets an idea.

Dominoes AO3 Link - by @meridiansdominoes

Domino squad wakes up to find themselves back on Kamino, hours from taking their final test... except they remember passing the final test, and they each remember dying afterwards, too.

Ghosts of Coruscan AO3 Link by numphet on AO3

Padmé Amidala, a former senator of the fallen Republic, barely survived the childbirth. After her recovery, she suffered from partial memory loss and was led to believe that the Emperor's mysterious enforcer, Darth Vader, killed her husband on Mustafar. Eight years later, she has joined the aspiring Rebel Alliance and volunteered to take part in a high-risk operation, only to be captured and thrown into an Imperial prison. To hide her true identity and protect her children from the Empire's wrath, she is forced to use a little too predictable alias.

Doc’s Febuwhump Series - The Bad Batch x OC by @staycalmandhugaclone

Fem Medic OC fic series with all the Batchers

Nightsky (NSFW) Echo x F Reader x Rex by @rain-on-kamino

Just back from a mission, The Bad Batch is unexpectedly visited by Rex. So you just have to wait a little longer to lay down with your love Echo. Or? Maybe this is the opportunity to try something new. Especially since the handsome captain obviously has a crush on you, too.

In Need (NSFW) Hunter x Jedi F Reader by @wanderer-six

While travelling with the Bad Batch, you find yourself overwhelmed by a certain need. Unable to deal with it, you try to wait it out in hopes it will pass. But you come to find that your arousal has been unintentionally torturing your poor sergeant.

Positions (NSFW) Cody x F Reader x Rex by @kaminocasey

Rex invites Cody out to 79s, only because they have bigger plans for you tonight.

Water and Rock (NSFW) Obi Wan x F Reader by @split-spectrum

When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

Hunter x F Reader by @freesia-writes with bonus spicy Hunter fanart by @verndusk and a smutty part 2 by @spicy-clones. Phew! Clone Matchmaking AU Masterlist by @tcwmatchmakingau

The Clone Wars have ended, and with their legal status secured, the clone troopers look to the future, to the things they never thought they would be able to have. Homes. Families. Love. But without the support systems and social structures available to natborns, many troopers have difficulty finding meaningful connections. Enter Right to Love Matchmaking Service: a not-for-profit organization dedicated to helping clone troopers find the loves of their lives.

Sharp Edges (NSFW) Crosshair x Reader by @spicy-clones & @lightwise

What started off as self-indulgent Crosshair smut has evolved into a fully-developed fic, with plot, character development, twists and turns, angst, yearning, and plenty of delicious *spice*. ;)

⭐Artwork⭐

Wrecker and Reader Cuddles (plus Lula!) by @madbunnyarts

Bo Katan Comic by @projectorthus for @bokatanweek

Celebrating Anakin's Birthday by @stealingpotatoes

They Call Themselves...The Bad Batch by @shyranno

Alpha 17 and Captain Rex by @cobaltbeam

Sexy Tech Fanart by @raevulsix

Crosshair Back on The Marauder by @zaana

Awesome Graphics by @idontgetanysleep

Fixing TBB S2 Finale by @lightspringrain

[ilcuoreardendo-fic]

Welcome. Ask is on. Anon is on. My inbox is pretty much always open for thoughts or thots, comments, ramblings, etc.

I take fic requests, but I’m a very slow creator with constantly multiplying ideas of my own. So, feel free to ask/submit, but know that it might not happen (or might not happen very quickly...)

Like what you see here? Give me a follow. I usually follow back. And I don’t bite (without consent.)

Lins. She/Her. Taciturn, introverted, word lover. Annoyed atheist. Jaded feminist. Pramgatist.

Been in fandom since I was a wee teen in the late 90s.

I have a low tolerance for BS. (Like ship shaming, fandom policing and fandom purity culture - just to name a few things.)

I tag liberally, so if you have a problem with something (kink, ship, whatever), you can block the tag. Curate your experience.

I’m currently living in the Star Wars fandoms, bouncing between the Prequels, Clone Wars and the Bad Batch. (Love the entirety of TBB, but I definitely have a huge soft spot for Tech, Echo, Crosshair. Especially Echo, my cyber cinnamon roll.) But I moonlight in others.

In addition to Tumblr, you can find me at: Archive Of Our Own | ilcuoreardendo Dreamwidth | raptureofthemoon (largely just a backup space)

I'm all over the place and not consistent on any one project (and I’m slow AF when it comes to creating new fic lately). 

But here are a few things I’m working on (and a few highlights for flavor). I’ll try keeping this up to date.

The Bad Batch

Most of my images/edits and gifs: TBB Media

One Shots

The Fall (AO3) S2. Tech, in that moment. And the moments that come after.

A Hole in the Universe (Tumblr) S3. Crosshair mourning Tech.

Nights Like This (Tumblr) S3, Post Series Finale. Some nights, they can’t sleep.

One Shot Reader Fics

Staring Contest (Tumblr; Crosshair x Jedi!Reader)

From Here On Out (Tumblr; Echo x Reader; post series finale)

Series

Written in the Dust (AO3)  [In progress] A fix-it series branching off of Season 1. Echo’s past finds him. Echo x F!Jedi. Maybe...some other TBB x F!Jedi...we go where the wind takes us.)

A Place Called Home (Part 1 of Written in the Dust) Meaningful moments Echo shares with his new squad as he thinks about his past and finds his place in the present. (Complete)

Rescue on Bernilla [Working Title] (Upcoming; Echo/Female Character/Fives)

Series extras

Untitled (Upcoming; Crosshair/Female Character/Tech) Crosshair and Tech’s shore leave on Chandrila.

TBB Headcanony Stuff

Gifset: “Care to introduce your new friends, Caleb?”

Mood Boards

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Codywan

A Clone and His Jedi (AO3) [One-shot] Cody. Obi-Wan. A moment alone, waiting for rescue.

Star Wars Prequel Era (Samples)

QuiObi

And the Force Will Lead Them (AO3) [Complete; Zine fic] After Obi-Wan's actions on Naboo, he and Qui-Gon drifted from one another. A rare disease and a mysterious Jedi master draw them back together and lead them to discover the depth of their bond.

QuiObiKin

The Sacrifice (AO3) [Complete] It's been a year since Qui-Gon Jinn and his padawan, Anakin Skywalker, fell to the dark side. It's been nine months since the gifts started showing up at the Temple, addressed to Obi-Wan.

Vaderwan

Acquisition (AO3) [In progress] Wherever he went, Vader seemed to follow. And it became much too frequent an occurrence to just be coincidence.

[halfagonyandhope]

when the skies catch fire │ch. 22

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine has to read the letter several times to take it in. Her shaking hands do not help in this endeavor.

They’d never spoken of marriage. As teenagers, of course, marriage had simply been fantasy, an unattainable dream. It was forbidden by the Jedi. And selecting a former Jedi - even a former padawan - as Mandalore’s Duke Consort would have been akin to drawing crosshairs over Obi-Wan’s heart. There’d been no doubt in Satine’s mind that Obi-Wan would have been assassinated by one of the terrorist organizations that still threatened Mandalore - that still harbored resentment of any Force-sensitive being - before they could even exchange vows.

She’d loved him too much to inquire about marriage, then. And she’d always suspected the same was true for him about her.

But had he let himself dream of formal vows, despite it all? Had he held onto the image of a future, a family with her, the way she’d held onto hope?

Satine is overcome by the absurd urge to twist back time, to redo that morning, to stop their contact’s ship from leaving the hangar. If she only could, if she could beg Obi-Wan to stay -

Stop this, she tells herself firmly. 

Then she has to roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I blame the hormones,” she mutters to the empty room, sitting down on the side of the bed. The sheets smell like him. Her hand immediately rests on her abdomen, and she reads the letter another time.

She smiles.

“A thousand times yes,” she whispers into the Force, and she swears she feels an echo of strangled joy return to her - as though he’s felt her response.

Satine succumbs to sleep with the letter still clutched in her hand.

---

During the darkest part of the night, there is a battering on her door.

Satine is on her feet in a second, the door open a second after that.

“Neha? What is it?”

Neha holds up a holocommunicator.

Obi-Wan appears in miniature form, dressed as he was the previous morning. He is more unkempt than he had been, however; his hair is slicked back with what appears to be a mix of sweat and oil.

“I received a message from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant,” says Neha, her voice just a whisper.

She starts the recording.

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he begins.

Before he can say anything else, Satine feels her heart against her ribcage, erratic. His expression tells her what has happened. 

“I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place,” Obi-Wan continues. “This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed. And our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere.”

Satine bites her lip. She feels like sobbing, or drowning, or perhaps both.

 “And in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you. Always.”

The last word feels like it was directed at her. Satine hugs her arms around herself.

“Neha, what happened?”

Neha shakes her head. “My contact said they never made it to Mandalore. After a few hyperlane switches, they picked up chatter from the Republic. The Jedi Temple was attacked. Since the Mandalorian children are waiting in a safe house for now, the team decided to triage and respond to the Temple attack.” She hesitates. “It’s not clear if anyone who was inside the Temple at the time survived.”

“The younglings?” asks Satine, her lips barely able to form the words.

Neha can’t bring herself to respond. It is response enough.

“Who?” asks Satine.

“I don’t know for certain, but my contact said the Galactic Republic is now the Imperial Senate. We no longer have a chancellor; now we have an emperor.”

“Palpatine attacked the Temple?”

“No,” says Neha. “But he is the Sith we were looking for. He has a new apprentice. It was he who attacked the Temple. A man named Darth Vader. I don’t have more information than that.”

“It is Anakin,” says Satine immediately. “The new apprentice is Anakin Skywalker. I am sure of it.”

Neha looks at her with wide eyes. “Skywalker?”

Satine freezes. If Anakin has fallen, then Obi-Wan…

Satine turns away but keeps her shoulders set. “Obi-Wan will have gone to stop him,” she whispers. “Ahsoka will have gone with Obi-Wan.” She steels herself before turning back to face Neha. “It is what the Jedi would do.”

Neha nods. “They will neutralize him,” she says, slipping back into the role of a war general.

“Say it as it is.” Satine’s tone is dark. “They will kill him.”

Her thoughts turn to Padmé. Does she know? Is she safe? Is she even alive?

“We need to reach out to anyone we can contact. Senator Organa, if possible. Can you ready the conference room? I will wake and gather the others.”

And they rush down the hall.

---

Satine guides the rebel cell through the darkened hallways, briefing them, her words swift as her stride. By the time they reach the conference room, Neha has already established communication with Bail Organa. The senator’s holoimage is projected at the center of the table. He turns to face Satine as she enters.

“Duchess, I’m afraid things have gone from concerning to catastrophic.”

Satine sits at the head of the table. “Tell us what you can, Senator.”

“Alderaanian intelligence suggests the Emperor will soon begin arresting members of the Delegation of 2000.”

“That is, any senator who signed the petition requesting Palpatine cede his emergency powers. Including yourself.”

Bail nods.

“Have the members of the Delegation been warned?” Satine asks.

“My team was able to warn all but one,” he says. “I could not reach Senator Amidala. Her quarters are abandoned. She’s disappeared.”

Satine glances at Neha before looking back at Bail. “Did she leave with Skywalker?”

Bail gives a terse shake of his head. “We were able to track his starfighter to Mustafar. It is only equipped to carry one being. No Nubian ships that we know of have left Coruscant. She’s still on the capital, likely hiding in the lower levels.”

Neha speaks for the first time. “I will find her. I have the sets of armor Master Kenobi and the Duchess wore while escaping Mandalore. I will go - no one will mistake me for a Jedi. I will get her off Coruscant.”

“As will I,” says Satine. “Padmé is my close friend; if anyone can find her, I can.”

Chewbacca vocalizes, something between a growl and a howl, and Satine nods.

“Chewbacca will accompany us,” she adds. 

When he bellows again, a protocol droid translates. “Chewbacca has contacts on Lah’mu,” says the droid, referring to the closest major planet. “He can call in a favor to get a VCX-100 light freighter.”

The Wookiee howls once more.

“He’s happy to pilot,” the droid adds.

Satine turns back to Bail. “Then it’s settled.”

Without prompting, the rest of the team rises to begin preparations. As they clear out of the room, Bail holds Satine’s gaze.

“Obi-Wan went with Ahsoka to Mustafar,” he says, almost apologetic.

Satine nods, just once. “Were there any other survivors at the Temple?”

“Master Yoda,” says Bail, and Satine’s heart breaks.

No one else?

“Satine,” says Bail. “It wasn’t just the Temple. Every Jedi, regardless of where they were, was attacked by clone troopers. They weren’t spared just because they happened to be off Coruscant.” He hesitates. “The message Obi-Wan sent out - it was because the Sith had created a beacon to lure the Jedi back to the Temple. Obi-Wan reversed the beacon to warn them away.”

Satine rests her head against the back of her chair, closing her eyes for a few moments. “Stay safe, Senator,” she says, ending the transmission.

When she opens her eyes again, the room is dark, and she is alone.

[writingforfun0714]

Ok so I was thinking about this crossover idea I had of Arcane x Bad Batch. Spoilers for both shows.

*Contains headcanons*

I’ve been rewatching both shows and realized that Star Wars and Arcane have some similarities.

—Adopted dads

—eye color changes (Sith/Shimmer)

—Jinx/Vader parallel

—Silco/Palpatine parallel (they both lie about Vi/Obiwan respectively)

So the main idea would be Vander and Benzo are Jedi Masters (Silco is a Sith). While it’s generally against the rules of the Council to have more than 1 padawan, Vander has 4 b/c they need as many trained Jedi as possible. Because he has 4 padawans, Vander does not have a clone battalion. Instead, they work closely with Clone Force 99, aka the Bad Batch. All the kids (Vi, Claggor, Mylo, Powder and Ekko) are all jedi padawans (Caitlyn is mandalorian).

Order 66 coincides with the accidental explosion in ep3 of Arcane (where Claggor/Mylo/Vander dies). Instead of robbing Jayce (in Arcane), the kids have all passed their crystal trials. Kyber crystals are the hex crystals (Act1 version).

For the Batch, Crosshair still turns and goes after the padawans. Crosshair’s turn happens right after Vander and Benzo are taken/killed. He goes after Vi and Ekko until Hunter knocks him out. He manages to convince Vi to go back with him (mentioning Powder), but not Ekko. Ekko runs off/escapes (like Caleb).

Vi regroups with the other padawans and tells them Master Benzo was killed and Master Vander was taken (by Silco). Vi still tells Powder to stay behind while the others go after their master/father-figure. Powder still has a mental breakdown etc. But instead of remembering an accidental explosion (Jayce’s apartment) she remembers that Huang (lightsaber droid) told them that the crystals are incredibly powerful, leading to the monkey bomb scene in Arcane ep3. That whole scene would be the same. Mylo/Claggor die. Silco’s saved by Sevika, and Silco’s partner, Singed, a mad scientist/doctor still gets caught in the explosion. Instead of turning Shimmer-monster like in Arcane, Vander turns Sith but chooses to save Vi, dying in the process (still tells her to take care of Powder too).

THAT WHOLE HEART-WRENCHING SCENE STILL HAPPENS (with Powder sobbing/repeating that she only wanted to help to Vi slapping her and telling her she’s a jinx). As Powder pleads, sobbing, begging for Vi to come back, Hunter manages to find her and take her back with them. Vi’s still taken but instead of Marcus, she’s taken by clones.

The Batch+Powder return to Kamino and they still meet Omega. The rest of Bad Batch ep1 still happens (training room scene/Saw Guerra/going back for Omega/Crosshair getting separated from the rest of the Batch/Inhibitor Chip increase). Omega sees Powder as a younger sister and helps her get through the lowest point in her life. So the main differences would be O66 clones instead of shimmer-monsters and Powder ISN’T raised by Silco. Also the Arcane timeskip doesn’t happen (follows BB episodes mostly).

Idk exactly how everything would line up (especially with the other storylines in Arcane: Jayce/Viktor/Mel/Heimerdinger and Caitlyn) but the main idea would be the Batch adopting Powder and Omega seeing her as a sister (Powder would def have problems with ‘sister-relationships’ and through Omega’s help, gets healthy therapy and begins to trust).

This was just an idea I’d been playing around with for the past few weeks. The inspiration came from YouTube channel CW Edits and their ‘What Could’ve Been’ video of Anakin and Obi-Wan. If you haven’t seen it, YOU HAVE TO SEE IT! Their channel is amazing and their SW vids are *chef’s kiss*

Is anyone interested in this?? Please be honest. Lemme know what you all think! Thanks!

[bad4amficideas]

I wonder what a Pokemon x Star Wars crossover would be like.

I imagine that all the clones would have the same Pokémon standard, and then they would find another one (imagine Crosshair finding a Sobble, Wrecker a Pancham) but WHICH standard? Scavalier, Falinks, Pawniard, Durant?

maybe the Jedi too. Riolu?

Vader got an Iron Valiant... Padme got an Espeon.

Uxie-Mesprit-Axel are the OT Luke-Leia(Leia-Luke?)-Han.

Maybe 3 pokemon per person...

[thechosenonehasfallen]

“‘M okay,” I kiss his cheek, “goin’ to V.” I inform him before hopping to my dyad.

Crosshair leans against the wall with his sniper propped up, his focus on Ahsoka as she and Vader fight further down the hall.

He’s been cut a few times. His leg is the worst. At least he can still snipe and help cover Vader’s blind spots since the bitch liked to jump around so much.

Ahsoka kicks off the wall in a spin move, her foot colliding hard with Vader’s cheekbone. As Vader falls back a step, growling in pain, Cross lands another shot to her arm.

Even still, she keeps going, deflecting his next shot right back at him, forcing him to duck.

Vader recovers and slices downward with his height advantage, forcing Ahsoka to raise both sabers in an x in hopes to block his pure strength and fury.

[chelseaslibrary]

Tag System

Star Wars /

Obi-Wan Kenobi - ☀️

Anakin Skywalker - 🫶🏻

Captain Rex - 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼

Commander Cody - 💋

ARC Trooper Fives - 5️⃣

Tech - 🤓

Wrecker - 👊🏽

Hunter - 🔪

Echo - 🦿

Crosshair - 🎯

Darth Vader - 😅

Zeb - 😈

Luke Skywalker - 🥺

Han Solo - 😮‍💨

Cassian Andor - 🤧

Din Djarin - 😶

Boba Fett - 🥴

Poe Dameron - 🧑🏽‍🚀

9-1-1 /

Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley -  🔥

Eddie Diaz - ⛑️

Bobby Nash - 👨🏻‍🚒

Howie Chimney’ Han - 🚒

Athena Grant - 🚨

9-1-1 Lone Star /

Owen Strand - 🧎🏻

Mateo Chavez - 💥

TK Strand - 💍

Judd Ryder - 🤠

Marvel /

Steven Grant - 🥹

Marc Spector - 🫠

Jake Lockley - 🥵

Frank Castle - 😛

Matt Murdock - 👨🏻‍🦯

Andrew Garfield Peter Parker - 🕷️

Loki - 👿

Tony Stark - 🤖

Eddie Brock - 👽

Bucky Barnes - 🦾

X-Men /

Charles Xavier - 🦽

Erik Lehnsherr - 💫

Peter Maximoff - 🏃🏼

Logan Howlett - 🫡

Narcos /

Javier Peña - 🧎🏽‍♂️

Steve Murphy - 🤨

Miscellaneous /

Daryl Dixon - 🏹

Danny Torrance - 😴

Spencer Reid - 👻

Aaron Hotchner - ❣️

Jack Barakat - 🎸

April Ludgate - 😑

Merlin - 🧙🏻‍♂️

Joel Miller - 😤

Ellie Williams - 🥰

Gregory House - 🩺

James Wilson - 🥼

Robert Chase - 💉

Alfie Solomons - 🧍🏻

Catcher Block - 🤩

James Potter - 🦁

[schlorbe]

My headcanons on how different star wars characters would reject you💗‼️:

Crosshair: “no.” you wouldn’t even be up to asking him yet he’d already reject you. Imperial Crosshair would straight up shoot you in the head.

Tech: “sorry. no” he would let you ask him and would at least be chivalrous before never talking to you again and avoiding you as much as possible. He would also take the longest fucking time to respond he’d stand there like 🧍‍♂️

Echo: very polite. would be unable to make eye contact and would still try to be friends.

Wrecker: would start idk bench pressing or summ and be like tha grind never stops little lady and neither can i💯.

Hunter: would just say he’s got enough shit to deal with

Maul: he would hiss at you

Vader: Would kill you with his lightsaber (see comics he fr did this to a chick that liked him)

Kylo ren: Would hit a wall and then just start screaming NO! NO! NO!all like veins popping out his face and stuff(you would have to be escorted out by guards and possibly low key executed)

Mando: would say some random shit about mandalore like “this isn’t the way” and then he would find an excuse to leave the planet you’re on like grogu has hay fever or summ

Anakin: he would liken you to sand and try to be mysterious like “i just….can’t….” and look off into the sky

Obi wan: would show you multiple pictures of Satine he keeps with his lightsaber while sobbing and shaking

Chewbacca: “rrraassugh…mrrrrgh…”

Jarjar: “meesa no see yousa that way….”

[gothy-froggy]

Requests

Open :

Closed :❌

Hello so I’m realizing that the only way I’ll be making fan fics is that I get requests so I’m making this if anyone wants to requests anything!

Star Wars

Jedi/light force users

Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Anakin Skywalker x reader

(Mandalorian/Rebels) Ahsoka Tano x reader

Luke Skywalker x reader

Leia Organa x reader

Qui-Gon Jinn x reader

(Caleb Dume) Kanan Jarrus x reader

Cal Kestis x reader

Aalya Secura x reader 

Shaak Ti x reader

Bounty Hunters/Smugglers/etc

Boba Fett

Jango Fett

Bossk

Cad Bane

Embo

Asajj Ventress 

Fennec Shand

Han Solo

Zam Wesell

Din Dirjin 

Hando Ohnaka

Sith/Dark force users

Darth Vader

Darth Maul

Revan

Darth Nihilus 

General Grievous 

(More coming soon)

Clones 

Fives x reader

Rex x reader

Cody x reader

Hunter x reader

Tech x reader

Crosshair x reader

Echo x reader

Wrecker x reader

Wolffe x reader

Tup x reader

Fox x reader

Others

Eli Vanto x reader

Thrawn x reader

Hera Syndulla x reader

(Others coming soon)

Dead by Daylight

Killers 

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen (Ghostface)

Herman Carter (Doctor) x reader

Evan Macmillan (Trapper) x reader

Philip Ojomo (Wraith) x reader

Michael Myers (Shape) x reader 

Anna (Huntress) x reader

Adiris (Plague) x reader

Legion (Frank,Susie,Julie,Joey) x reader

Kazan Yomaoka (Oni) x reader

Caleb Quinn x reader

Pyramid Head (Executioner) x reader

Ji-WoonHak (Trickster) x reader

Tarhos Kovács (Knight) x reader

Survivor 

Feng Min x reader 

Quentin Smith x reader

Kate Denson x reader

Steve Harrington x reader

Yui Kimura x reader

Leon Scott Kennedy x reader

Jill Valentine x reader

Jake Park x reader

Vittorio Toscano x reader

Slashers/Killers/Horror Movies

Ghostface (Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Mickey Altieri) x reader

Pinhead x reader

Harry Warden (Miner) x reader

Jason Voorhees x reader

Brahms Heelshire (Boy) x reader

Michael Myers x reader

Bubba Sawyer x reader

Thomas Hewitt x reader

Bo Sinclair x reader

Vincent Sinclair x reader

Billy Lenz x reader

Dark Deception

Bierce x reader

Reaper nurse x reader

Malak x reader

Doug Houser x reader

Gold Watchers x reader

(More coming soon)

You all are able to requests Fandoms and characters! AUs/plots as well (will be coming soon)

Resident Evil

Claire Redfield x reader

Chris Redfield x reader

Leon Kennedy x reader

Jill Valentine x reader

Carlos Oliveira x reader

Ethan Winters x reader

Lady Dimitrescu x reader

Karl Heisenberg x reader

Albert Wesker x reader

Ada Wong x reader

DC

Jerome Valeska x reader

Jeremiah Valeska x reader

Edward Nygma x reader

Victor Zsasz x reader 

Oswald Cobblepot x reader

Johnathan Crane x reader

Jervis Tetch x reader

Twisted Wonderland 

Riddle Rosehearts x reader

Ace Trappola x reader

Deuce Spade x reader

Trey Clover x reader

Cater Diamond x reader

Leona Kingscholar x reader 

Jack Howl x reader

Ruggie Bucchi x reader

Azul Ashengrotto x reader

Jade Leech x reader

Floyd Leech x reader

Kalim Al-Asim x reader

Jamil Viper x reader

Vil Schoenheir x reader

Epel Felmier x reader

Rook Hunt x reader 

Idia Shroud 

Malleus Draconia x reader 

Lilia Vanrouge x reader

Silver x reader 

Sebek Zigvolt x reader

(more coming soon) 

 Will Not Write

Incest

Pedophilia

Non-con

Stuff like those

[certified-anakinfucker]

i took about 6,000 hitpoints when i found out tarkin was gay and canonically boned a stormtrooper and wanted to live out his days with him .

so was he. like. testing the bad batch for loyalty or bangability because i’m gonna need him to relinquish his crosshair holdings Expeditiously,,,,,

LIKE I FEEL BAD ABT WHAT HAPPENED TO THE TROOPER BUT HIM???? HE’S THE GAY ONE, D*SNEY?????

the MILITARY FIGURE in charge of holding vader on his leash is the raging homo????? and apparently it was just a running thing in the empire to have unhinged queers in seats of immense power

help

if i see any crosshair x tarkin out of any of you

[msfett]

Chapter 6: This Side of Ultraviolet 

Boba Fett x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW Explicit 18+ Only

C/W: Explicit Sexual Content, Rough!Angry!Hate Sex, Breathplay, Angst, Enemies to Lovers

Some Stuff 😊 Alright y'all! Here we go! The smutty, naughty filth starts here (and will likely make appearances in every future chapter, cuz that can of worms just exploded). Always consensual. Let's have some freakin fun! 😁

To a certain extent, I've tried to remain relatively Canon compliant. That being said, I wrote this chapter prior to the release of the last 2 episodes of The Bad Batch. So, whoopsies! It's all fantasy anyway ☺️ For all the wonderful people who have been going down the rabbit hole with me or for any newcomers to this twisty tale, I’m so incredibly glad you’re here! If you prefer AO3 (msfett_ifyourenasty), this series is cross-posted there. If you’re enjoying this fic, I'd love to hear from you, and please feel free to reblog and share 💕

🎶 Musical Motivation/Lyrical Inspiration: Beggin For Thread by BANKS

**********************

The small craft has a poor quality long-range transmitter, the audio garbled on both ends as you input the coordinates for the jump to hyperspace.

“Repeat, affirmative. Put a leash on the Dogs, 315. Over.”

“I don’t agree with this. You are in a dangerous position. That bounty hunter needs to be eliminated. Everything you’ve worked so hard for will be compromised if you ask me to call them off. What gives you the impression you can trust a man like this? Money is all he cares about. His loyalty is bought and sold to the highest bidder. And you, my dear, are a priceless gem in his eyes. Over.”

“Please. Just for the time being. Pull them back. I’m going dark for a while. I’ll explain everything later. If you don’t hear from me within 4 standard weeks, you can…follow protocol. That’s all I can say on this channel. SG-401 out.”

“401, no! Listen to me —“

**********************

The torrential rainstorms on Kamino are commonplace to Boba, white noise as he views the events below from his higher vantage. His sniper rifle is aimed at the dueling pair of blue and red laser swords clashing in the downpour.

The blue sword looks similar to the one the wizard had used battling his father. His father had beaten the brazen man, but somehow the Jedi had lived. Boba would ensure that didn’t happen today.

The rogue clone is fast, more than rivaling his would be master, blindly enraged after Vader struck down the woman Boba had been hired to lure him in with. The young man disarms the Dark Lord, the hilt of the red blade flying into his open hand as he seems to invisibly push the man of metal to the ground.

Troops from the Rebel Alliance sent to rescue the woman announce their entrance with distant blaster fire as Starkiller’s clone advances, crossing the blades into an X. Boba knows he will have only one shot to fulfill the contract with Vader before the clone executes his source of income. The hunter focuses through the scope, tracking the clone’s head until it halts. The clone is poised to strike, ready to defeat Vader as Boba’s finger tightens on the trigger.

“Galen, stop!”

And immediately Boba is training his sight to a voice that kindles lingering embers.

“Don’t! He will win, even in death, if you give in to his hate.”

It’s an impassioned plea lit from an unexpected torch in the midst of his crosshair.

“Think of Juno.” He watches as you gesture to the motionless woman laying on the platform, a victim of Vader’s handiwork. “Think of all she’s worked for. What she would want. The Alliance needs Vader’s knowledge of the Empire’s inner workings. Don’t destroy him as he’s tried to do with you. This is not the vengeance you seek, Galen Marek.”

It’s as if time has stopped for everything except the rain washing away the tempers of heated revenge. Boba has felt this before, a sluice of cool water soothing a burn.

Boba recognizes the rage filling the clone’s face, a desire to succeed where his progenitor failed by killing Vader. But then Starkiller’s face is overcome by something Boba can’t place, and the young man reluctantly heeds.

Boba watches you retreat back into the shadows as Rebels arrive, surrounding and subduing Vader.

But the dark helmet is focused elsewhere as if he can see past the Rebel soldiers.

Boba refocuses the rifle, preparing to execute the target as the clone cradles Eclipse’s apparently dead body. But the woman wakes up, revealing she’s survived Vader’s attempt on her life, kissing the clone embracing her.

Boba steals a glance to the shadows, detecting indistinct movement, and to his own surprise lowers the rifle, staring at the tender moment the clone and woman are sharing.

“Next time, Starkiller. She won’t be there to save you.”

**********************

Though both forgotten by most of the galaxy, Kamino is a stark departure from Tatooine’s blazing desert landscape. Ruled by water, Kamino is a saturated hydrosphere of aquatic terrain. Deep oceans completely cover the planet as the gloom from never ending rainstorms drowns out the light from its single sun.

Tipoca City’s cloning facility had closed years ago after an incident involving the Empire. The facility remained standing, but in a state of disrepair after being deserted. Few windows had been incorporated in the original architecture. Instead, white artificial lighting permeated the sterile hallways.

After the encounter, Fett had found you standing in the shadows, held still with an unnatural daze. You can’t remember the details of him guiding you here to this room. Your mind had been coerced into a darkly sinister direction.

Lightning illuminates the dark sky followed by the steady rumble of thunder. Windows line the outer wall allowing a dim light to cast shadows across the interior of the small, sparse room.

Your mind feels distant. The dark horizon blurs seamlessly with the ocean and you barely register the soft clank of armor. It’s as if you’re submerged in the depths of Kamino’s waters, sound muffled, moisture fully bathing your skin through water-laden clothes, limbs too heavy to move against the drag.

Fett almost startles you when he places a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you out of this.”

A puddle has formed around you, water dripping in a constant plink, but it’s as if you haven’t heard him, your gaze returning to a fixed point.

“Hey.” He’s squeezing your shoulders and you close your eyes releasing a long exhale. Recognizing his words, you begin to unfasten the drenched jacket, rolling your shoulders back for him to help peel it off your arms. The few leftover clothes you’d donned on Tatooine were not meant to withstand water and the thin undershirt clings to your damp frame.

“He was clawing at me. He wanted in.”

“Who?”

“Vader.” The empty eyes had honed in, grappling with your energy. “He knows.”

His voice is less harsh without the modulator. “Why are you here? Why did you stop Starkiller’s clone?”

The filter begins to fail as you speak. “I had to. I had to be the one to stop Galen. I couldn’t let my brother fall back into darkness.”

Fett is silent for a moment comprehending the meaning. “That wasn’t your brother. That was a clone.”

Even before you turn around you picture his set facial features. “You of all people should know that doesn’t matter.” But your words seem to have affected his expression more than you’d imagined.

He’s carefully pulling a saturated glove from each of your hands, and is deliberately slow reaching up to remove your mask, not wanting to reveal your face too quickly, to overstep his boundary.

Few people have ever seen your entire face, felt your hands. These barriers have been essential for your survival, for continued anonymity. Even those that had gotten too close, accidental or otherwise, risked removal of such memories.

He doesn’t know any of these darker capabilities, but you doubt that knowledge would alter his premeditated actions. He’s a bold man with few occupancies for regret. The fact he is seeing your face, touching your bare hands, makes this infinitely intimate.

It feels easier to breathe, to speak your truth as he removes the metalweave. “He’s a person, and a part of my brother lives on in him. Galen saw through Vader’s deceit, and ultimately claimed redemption before he was killed. This clone…my brother, kept his promise to himself and to his partner even when he thought she was dead. In doing so, he found something stronger than hate.”

The weight of your words rests heavily upon him causing a sway in his thoughts. “You believe all of that.”

“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

He’s trying to find support, something dense enough to push his thoughts in a different direction instead of tilting from the uncomfortable truth you present to him. And it’s not just now, but every time he’s asked you to, gladly offering your hand to build something different, something better.

Unobtrusive, yet powerful, your exhale is the soft breeze that topples the dilapidated structure.

In the midst of release, his grip encircles your arms, pulling you against his chest, thrusting your body upward into his. And before you can inhale, his mouth is seizing yours with barely checked ferocity, opening and entering, rolling his tongue against yours as he elicits a low groan.

His hands sweep up through your rain-soaked hair, capturing your delicate head, pulling you deeper into him. You feel his emotions rush over you, raw and blistering, justifying your own intensity. Your hands slide up the back of his neck and into the depths of his rich hair as your body bows backward, curving, fitting against him to melt into the heat he radiates.

One step and he has you pinned against the cold, horizontal bars across the transparisteel window, his body tightly trapping, daring you to escape his hold with one arm outstretched, palm flat to the window as the other hand presses into you lower back pushing your hips forward. And just like every other situation you’ve been in with him, he relentlessly battles you for total control.

But you’re a worthy opponent, and pulling away you savagely yank him back by his hair as if you would put him at a distance, hissing, “You’re so fucking aggravating, Fett.” Your forearm is pressed across his upper chest, sharply digging your nails into his bicep with each word.

He leans his head forward, into the tightness of your grip like he’s enjoying the prick of pain it causes, comfortable with its sensation. His gaze turns primal as you watch the softness recede from his eyes. You hold your breath, brow furrowed, matching his as hunger licks hotly through his blackened irises. Your belly contracts in response as his eyes skim over you, consuming you without so much as a touch.

“No, Jedi.” His raspy address is not the acerbic curse you once heard. “It’s you that’s fucking infuriating.” He jerks your hips impossibly closer to him, like he wants you to feel his anger take shape, his erection hardening against your body.

You are suspended in this moment as war rages in his obsidian eyes, fingers gripping his scalp in a desperate message of conflicting needs, when unexpectedly he begins to closely trail down your body, eyes locked with yours as he slowly descends.

It does something to you, watching him lower before you, a posture of submission except there’s nothing submissive about this man even as he sinks to his knees. He is thoroughly controlling every second of this. And you wonder what degree of perverse insincerity desecrates his deferential action, like worshiping a goddess of peace forced upon a violent throne.

His hands slide up your ankle, fingers tracing the seam of your pants to the thigh strap of your holster, and your hand constricts into a fist at your side. He doesn’t break eye contact. He doesn’t need to see. He knows exactly what he’s doing, slowly unbuckling.

Looking down at him, water drips from your hair to stream across his cheeks and down his angled jaw. And it’s a depraved, wicked movement as the edges of his lips curl up. You want to absolutely rip that mocking caricature of a smile off his fucking face, but all the same it sends a shiver through your body.

“When’s the last time you used this blaster?” A dark sound, if it can even be classified as a chuckle, releases from the back of his throat, eyes steady with yours.

“Careful. Or it’ll be tonight.” The muscles in his jaw clench with your answer. He likes this weapon. He’s familiar with it. He’s exceptionally skilled in operating it. This type of violence is tangible, straightforward, simple cause and effect. He doesn’t want grey; too much room for error, uncertainty.

His hands glide up your other thigh, and you feel his seductive mix of fear and desire in knowing what lies concealed, hilt safely sheathed. “Don’t touch it,” you warn through gritted teeth.

“Too personal?” He mocks the sanctity of the weapon, but you can sense his unease. His ignorance about the functionality scares him, a novel thrill. Unlike the other side, it’s a sharp pinch as he jerks loose the leather strap and your lip twitches in contempt.

He could never understand the sacredness of this weapon. It is your lifeblood, acting as a conduit between you and the Force, serving as a symbol of honor and commitment. He wants to break each part, smear your honor across your face, across his in spiteful derision.

You hold back, breathing through the waves of anger trying to pull you under. He’s stoic under your glare, but stubbornly complies with a snort.

In a smooth, continuous motion he runs a hand up the front of your hip while his other palm dips dangerously low, moving across before gliding up to unclip the holster. He refuses to disengage from your glower as he places your effects on the floor with surprisingly great care.

He’s disarmed you. Your safety has been set aside by him. You’ve allowed it.

You briefly see that same acknowledgment echoed in his eyes before he bows his head, a disingenuous pretense. The significance of his forehead resting against your belly is implicitly tarnished by his enduring scorn. But he is the first to look away, breaking the aggressive stare, the smallest of surrenders.

You remember his whisper. This changes nothing.

And though you recall how those words shook you, he’s the one on his knees, an undeniable vulnerability itself, a yielding of some portion of control, and something has changed with this position of his choosing.

The heat of his breath against your skin sends a shiver through your body as his hands firmly grasp the back of your thighs. His lips ghost over the small space between your shirt and pants, softly pressing until you acutely feel the scrape of teeth across your skin.

Reestablishing your grip against his scalp, you yank him back. He has the hem of your shirt between his teeth, lips pulled back ever so slightly revealing the glint of his bared teeth as he bites down. He locks eyes with you again, the shirt snapping back as he intentionally releases it, teeth clicking, his decision to let go.

Confidently he rises up, sliding his hands up over your ass, flexing his fingers to lock you against him. The tension you’ve been holding is made apparent as you completely release him, knuckles white from intensity, tentatively unfurling your hands on his chest. Though his position has changed, a charged balance is present, an unfamiliar give and take you’ve not felt from him.

His breath rushes so hotly, prickling the shell of your ear. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You make sure he can feel the indentations of your nails as they scratch down his chest, body shuddering in response as you grit, “I don’t need those weapons to completely destroy you.”

The sound rumbling from deep within his chest is absolutely feral as you willingly let him crush you against the warmth of his body, bending and not breaking from his intensity. “You made a bad choice coming back here. I took you somewhere safe.”

His mouth comes to hover over yours, ready to devour your words as they spill from your lips. And just when the weight of control seems to tip the scales, a secondary shift of balance occurs, an equalizing push and pull. “I wouldn’t be here if you had just left me alone. This is all on you.” 

You’ve matched his intensity and he proves capable of an uncharacteristic mutual concession, groaning against your lips. It’s a move in your favor, and you decide to break even, gasping into his mouth, fingers clutching the back of his neck, thumbs tracing his hairline. You feel his strong fingers gliding up your shoulder blades to follow back down the curve of your spine, sliding slowly over each contour, heading with purpose toward your waist, your hips.

He sinks his fingers into the swell of your ass, and you pull back slightly to draw a breath, a small sound high in your throat, lips glistening until your teeth find purchase on his lower lip, biting and sucking him into your mouth. He hisses, a small fissure on his lip opening and you can taste the hint of iron mixed with salted rainwater.

You realize this is what he’s tasted like his whole life.

Your hands begin to move over him with sudden liberty pulling his dampened shirt off, feeling the expanse of his muscled chest, fingertips drifting lower over his taut abdomen. He clutches your rounded ass tightly in both hands and you eagerly leap up as he lifts your feet from the floor.

You sling one knee over his hip, the other leg snaking quickly around him so he’s caught in the encouraging vice of your legs. Your torso rises up high in his embrace, your mouths separating as you guide the back of his head, pulling him toward the fullness of your breasts. You gasp when he captures a peaked nipple through your clinging undershirt, sucking it into his mouth and catching it gently between his teeth.

The table he places you on is littered with items still set as if the occupants had left hurriedly in mid-use. He doesn’t bother to clear anything and the cold temperature of the alloy penetrates the fabric of your pants. The sitting position naturally draws your thighs up so your knees bracket his hips as your ankles hook around his legs. The movement causes objects to fall, hitting the floor with varied resonances.

There is a rushed sense of urgency coming from him, from the environment. You glance to see a child’s toy ship become part of the scattered mess below in his haste with you. And now he won’t bring his eyes to your face. The combination of contrasting sensations pour into you, heartbeat quickening, and it feels like the vibration is humming through your entire body.

You can tell he’s acting purely on impulse, every wild twist of his mouth against yours a reflection of the need to rapidly remove thought from his existence. His demanding hands wrap around your hips and drag you forward to the edge of the table where balance seems unlikely. But just as your arms have been clinging around his shoulders, he holds you steady as he pushes himself deeper toward the juncture of your thighs. Your gasp becomes a moan beneath the command of his lips as you feel the hard impression of his erection pressing against the center of your core.

His cock is straining against the barrier of his pants and you make an abandoned sound of pleasure, wriggling toward his frame, slowly rolling your hips. Your hands glide down over his back and onto his firm ass where you can feel the muscles driving towards you. His abdomen flexes against you, the sinew of his thighs jumping tensely to attention, cock twitching in excitement with your engagement.

His course satisfaction is palpable through his groan at your eager response. He’s precariously soliciting a mindless state as he makes savage use of your mouth, kissing you, until breathless, you release little sounds of encouragement for him.

You feel his fingers thrusting hungrily under your damp shirt, burning back up over your hips and belly until he’s caught your breasts in impatient palms. His touch is aching skill, an assured manipulation that molds the supple flesh, rubbing his roughened hands against you. He draws an already peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolls it into a deft pinch. You gasp, your torso arching forward into him, moaning as he toys with the opposite breast, melting liquid down the center of your body until you are soaked with it. As you sharply inhale, you become aware of his musky scent. It is bitter rain spiced with sweat, heated by the warmth of his skin.

This is how he’s always smelled.

Mouthing along his jawline down his neck, your tongue flicks along the increasing pace of his jugular pulse and over the scarred skin where you deflected the blaster bolt that fateful evening. He recognizes your silent, veiled intimation, the first time you chose to spare his life. He growls a fast, foreign phrase through clenched teeth causing a pulse of heat to seep down your center, wet as it bursts the confines.

Then he’s ripping your shirt up and over your head, flinging it aside carelessly. You lean back on your hands and watch as he focuses on your bare breasts, his gaze completely transfixed, his hand slowly skimming feather light over the top of one, then traveling to the other. This measured exploration is nothing like his desire to dismantle you, nothing like the more aggressive need you can feel radiating from him now, expertly hunting your shadow. He is dangerous and you can feel it as he insinuates himself around your thoughts.

Your walls clench under his thorough visual examination, touch narrowing to a single fingertip that traces the slope of your breast until it is just his nail scraping over your rigid nipple. You jerk sharply, unprepared for the spear of heat the simple touch sends hurtling through you as he squeezes your breast harder. His mouth catches your nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth, suckling languidly as you moan softly. You cup one hand under his jaw as he alternates his attention to the other breast, feeling the grains of sand left behind by your shirt, pleasantly chafing with his tongue.

Looking down, you’re stirred by the fullness of his lips wrapping around your sensitive nipple, by the contrasting color of his flushed lips against your skin highlighted by streaks of lightning outside. You place your palms on the backs of his hands, urging him on, tightening his touch. And fuck. The intoxicating way he looks as he lavishes your body, how the half-mast of the thick lashes lightly tickle against your breast, floods you with moisture pooling hotly at the juncture of your thighs.

He releases you from his mouth, your body responsive in his embrace, and you can feel the need coursing through his body. He pants softly as your hands sweep through his soft, black hair, fingers curving until your nails are running over the sensitive back of his neck, teasing and making him even harder. You scrape your nails down his back, around and up to his chest, simultaneously drawing him deeper into the tender trap of your locked legs.

You’re not expecting the streak of pleasurable pain when his teeth latch onto your nipple and your whimper loudly until the pitched noise extends into elongated moan. His large hand reaches up to hold you still, almost completely encompassing your throat, lightly pressing, as a guttural growl of desire boils out of him to sweep fiercely around you, dark and carnal.

He breaks away to chase a bead of rain that slips down between your breasts, catching it with the tip of his tongue. He drags the velvet tool across your skin until he’s drawing a stiffened nipple into the warmth of his mouth as you release a small cry.

It feels like you’ve already lost the sensible part of your mind, swimming with the heat of arousal as his hands find the snap of your pants. You feel his hand slide around your hip and down over your ass again, but this time he’s touching your skin, having slipped his fingers past the loosened fabric. His depraved thoughts are exquisitely loud, knowing the rain-soaked material is the only physical barrier between him and his ability to fully experience your body. The material slides lower, setting your sensitive skin to screaming.

Your legs go lax as he supports your weight with one hand, pushing the pants from your body effortlessly and then urging your legs back to their embrace around him. His eyes rake over your naked figure. “Fuck.” He exhales loudly, biting his lower lip.

Breath quickening, he discovers you, training his sights on the glistening slit, lips slightly parted from the wide spread of your thighs. His furrowed brow momentarily relaxes as his eyes flick back up to meet yours. “Beautiful.”

There is truth in his words, devoid of his previous mocking tone, and you feel a natural softening in your chest at his revelation. Your entire body is exposed to this man and he’s chosen to stare at your most vulnerable area, your face, your eyes. It’s a challenge to look at him, wondering what he might see there.

As if reciprocating that feeling, he drops his gaze. Your body is easy to admire. He can make an objective assessment of each part, like any other man.

Shifting into a more comfortable frame of mind, he splays his fingers over the trembling muscles of your belly before rotating his hand to cup the mound of your sex. His middle finger brushes over you and you’ve been wound so tightly that this light touch inundates you with sensation, softly sighing as your eyelashes flutter shut.

“You weren’t supposed to be like this,” he gravels, burying his face into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply as if to drag your scent deep into his lungs. His finger is slow, deliberate, sliding just enough to gather slick for the tip so it glides without friction over your sensitive nub.

“You’re complicated.” His accented voice is coarse as his fingers thread through your hair, gripping hard enough to pull your head back. “And confusing.” He opens his mouth on the side of your exposed neck, sliding his hot tongue up its delicate length, dipping it into the hollow behind your earlobe.

“You make me think.” His confession unravels through guilt-burdened lips, unable to look in your eyes. “I don’t want to fucking think,” he mouths into your neck. “I don’t want to feel.”

“Is that why you hate me, Fett?” you murmur, forcing your hips to remain still under his increasing pressure.

His answer is audibly silent, but his is mind is booming decibels, breath blowing hot into your hair, over your skin, the speed chilling the sensitive back of your neck. His heavy panting makes you feel like your own short breaths are deprived of needed oxygen.

“I don’t even know your fucking name.” His fingertips slide into the collection of arousal between your soaking folds, running through until they’re completed coated before slipping one thick finger and then another into your wet, silky flesh. You gasp, a stuttering intake, encouraging his strong fingers to curl tightly as if he can coax your name into his covetous hand. Your arms drape over his shoulders, pulling him closer so that your face can burrow into the side of his neck, mewling as your walls clench tightly around the welcome fullness. He hums in satisfaction at your reaction, at the way he’s pulling these sounds from your tempered composure. And it’s messy as he presses open mouthed kisses along the top of your shoulder.

He feels you shudder, marveling at how tight you feel around his fingers, how your insides quiver with delicious, eager little spasms under his touch. Your hand grips around his taut bicep, muscles flexing as he pumps his fingers slowly into your cunt. You grind up against the calloused pads of his palm, stimulating your clit with every deep curl of his fingers. Allowing this momentary loss of control, you let him fuck you with his thick fingers and it feels so good. And you want to feel him too so you shove your hand down between your bodies, grasping the hard outline of his cock, preparing for the inevitable breakdown of will.

And just like this, he’s making you completely mad with dizzying sensation. He’s leading you up to the edge, and you’re so ready to cum all over his fingers, electricity branching out like lightening from your center…when his fingers suddenly stop.

And this time it is an unmistakable deviant chuckle.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you pant, and it looks like evil retribution pouring from his dark eyes as he pulls back from your grip enough to rob you of both your orgasm and of the beautiful image your mind was creating of his cock.

Why his cruelness still shocks any part of you is beyond comprehension and your fingers claw into whatever you can find. Then you see what he’s staring at, and your eyes dart between his face and his hand, from looking at his reaction to watching him slowly remove his fingers from your cunt. He’s absolutely soaked in your arousal so as he parts his fingers, strands of glistening slick web between them.

It looks like he’s inventing a new way to sin as he opens his mouth, sliding his fingers in to taste you, wrapping his lips around dirty, criminal fingers. His eyes close, wide nostrils flaring as he takes a deep, purposeful breath, drawing in your scent, solidifying his violation, groaning as he palms his cock over his pants.

His eyes snap open to confront yours, removing his fingers to spread them over his lips. He drags his fingers down, tongue licking between them to consume your residual arousal.

“Tell me.” And you clench at the sight of him spitting into his hand to reach under his waistband, roughly stroking his cock. The flared, engorged head is just visible, shining with the mix of his saliva and your slick.

“You are a hateful creature,” you sneer. This is not justifiably reconcilable, chest heaving, and you fight to keep your lips sealed.

You can feel his urge to take you, to be buried deep inside, rolling off him in torrid waves. “Don’t make me say it again.” Though it sounds like a demand, he’s waiting to hear your answer.

Feeling insolent, you mouth off to him. “Is that all you have for me, bounty hunter?” Your own vicious smile turns up the corners of your lips. “I expected more vigor from the Fett line.”

And your comment has exactly the desired effect, purposely rousing the sleeping beast. He’s growling, flipping you around, roughly pushing you against the metal. The table is cold against your heated cheek, biting at your sensitive nipples as you hear his unfastened pants swoosh to the floor. One hand is pressing hard between your shoulder blades, the other gripping into your hip, holding you in place as he uses his knee to shove your legs apart.

His muscled arm is like a band of durasteel as it crosses your lower abdomen from hip to hip, his other hand grasping through your hair until he has a firm hold near the base of your head. He jerks you back hard against him, your ass snuggling deep into the well of his hips as his thick thighs keep you parted.

Your body is wet from rain and arousal, and becoming more so with every eager rub of his suggestive burrowing against you. Your breath comes out as sharp gasps of pleasure as you feel his head slide along the edges of your slick folds. You feel your body craving, seeking, fuck it begging to be filled as he’s leaning forward over your outstretched body. The clamp of his teeth on your shoulder and the bruising force of his hands only intensify those desires. He’s so conformed to your body, bent over your smaller frame, as if he can absorb your pleasure, your anger, fuck, whatever you’re releasing, through contact.

You can feel the raging of his body, his want to be deep inside, the slick welcome of your anticipation bathing him in invitation. You writhe back against him, demanding him with savage provocation, tilting your pelvis forward as if he needs help accessing your soaked cunt, your body wildly seeking the fulfillment the hardness against you promises so hotly.

Oh and he fucking wants it too as he tries to moderate the bastardized ego of his current control. His breath is ragged. “Maker you’re so confusing.” But it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“Even if,” he’s barely managing to grit out between placing his mouth along the back of your neck, relentlessly teasing his cock over your clit, “I don’t hate you...” All the buildup is making you soak his length before he’s even entered you. “That’s exactly how I want to fuck you.”

You feel your cunt involuntarily clench at the words he’s growling into your neck, brutal in their honesty. His animalistic need to dominate you is overwhelming and you grind against his hard length until he can’t withhold. Returning upright, he grips your hips even harder with bruising intensity, dragging the tip of his head through your wet folds. He slowly enters you allowing you to adjust to the thickness of his cock. And though you haven’t seen the entirety, you can feel the breadth of it breaching you.

“Fuck.” He extends the word as you whine with the intensity of him stretching you, and you know he can feel you contracting around him. His thrusts are small, controlled, but deep, hitting against your cervix.

His hips are firmly pressed against your ass, letting his cock sit and twitch in your warmth, reveling in your little noises and desperate movements, when you realize he’s still taunting you. He’s barely moved except to take your overly sensitive clit between his index and middle finger, pressing and sliding his fingers slowly up and down causing you to buck your hips.

“Fucking move, Fett." It's an angry, breathy whine that sounds so unusual coming from your mouth.

You’re at that precious threshold as his sweat drips from his hair onto the small of your back. And he’s such a control freak that his restraint is torturing him as badly as he’s wanting to punish you by withholding. If there’s ever a next time, you’ll fucking remember this shit.

His groin is sticky with your arousal, and he’s got that good grip on your ass, kneading his fingertips into your cheek, indentations that will leave his mark of well-placed bruises. Beyond frustrated you tilt your hips, rocking forward, making his head press into you, hitting that aching spot in the front as your walls clench around him.

Without warning, his reaction is explosive, cursing and groaning as he pounds into your cunt, squelching with the brutal clash. He reaches for your neck, his thick, powerful fingers grasping and curling around the delicate column.

He feels you swallow, feels you breathe. Such vital, living reflexes. He can feel your pulse, feel it quicken under his fingers. And it makes him feel alive as if his world is tilting just a little off its axis. 

His other hand drives up from your hip to your waist, the dampness from the rain and his sweat coating your skin making it a slick movement. His thrusts are profound and rough, tipping you forward onto your toes. A primal sound erupts from his lips as you squirm eagerly in compliance, your rough breath rasping beneath the press of his index finger on your throat.

His exhales become groans, the transference of anger with each snap of his hips, a punctuated rhythm like his cock can shatter you, cause you to completely break down for him. You can feel him reeling from the unadulterated high as he surges into you, rooting himself deeply in your heat, feeling the impossibly tight wetness of your cunt.

“Oh, fuck…Yes,” you purr as your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. His groan a reply as he thrusts into you, reveling in the slick sensation of your folds, of affecting you enough to speak. And you can barely tolerate how he’s been able to do this to you, how his heartless, cold-blooded body has made you feverish for satisfaction. 

Then suddenly he pulls out, making you whimper in shock, overwhelmed by a sense of grasping loss as your hips writhe back to his instinctively. But he’s turning you over again, drawing your legs up, fitting them around his hips as he positions you back on the table. His thumbs are fitted into the crease of your thighs, fingers gripping low around your hips as you lean back on your hands.

And you’re so done with him teasing you, about to tell him he can go fuck off if he can’t finish the job he’s started, but he seizes your mouth with great need. His thoughts seem to flow through his lips with the nervous energy of being face-to-face. It’s as if he’s afraid he might see something telling in your eyes, and he can’t, no, won’t be able to turn away.

Breaching deeply into your eager body, he rasps. “Want to see you.” And you can feel his eyes burning back and forth between your gaze and where you’re joined, like he doesn’t want to miss out on visualizing either as he savagely drags your aching cunt over his thick length until he’s deeply seated in you. “You feel so fucking good.”

His brow is furrowed, eyes watching as he fucks into you hard, desiring to devastate, control, and he feels a sense of power. It’s like his cock is capable of conquering you, delivering his revenge by forcing your cunt to weep around him until he fills it with his seed, defeating you; defeating his own Jedi, cum dripping from his conquest, disgracefully marking her thighs.

He can do this if he avoids your gaze, make you an object, one more faceless acquisition.

But when he looks into your eyes, it’s entirely different, as if with each repeating deep thrust he’s letting go of some small thing. Like you’re giving him permission to release unwanted pieces of himself, his anger, his despair, the prideful parts that want to hold on to unfounded reasoning.

His eyes can’t seem to focus long on either, so you allow him to choose; his revenge, his peace, or something in between.

You cautiously slip past his projections and into the superficial areas of his mind. You can feel the build of pleasure climbing hot and tense around him. Rarely do you let yourself enjoy admittance to the mind, but it’s almost like he’s inviting you in, letting you access the lust, hatred, anger, confusion, the conflict of his want for you. It’s all tangled in tiny knots that only time and patience and determination have any hope of undoing.

He moves energetically within your body, and drawn in, he feels you match his rhythm. His hands glide over you, seeking sensitive spots, and focuses on your throbbing clit. His thumb rubs minute, firm circles in response to your walls squeezing his solid cock. You’re gasping with each successive movement he makes inside you, ruthlessly driving into you.

Your hands come up to clutch around his shoulders, pulling your chest against his. He’s tense, coiled, but the gentle way you press your lips against his neck causes him to involuntarily shiver. And as his muscles relax, you finally explode, crying out, cunt fluttering around him in rapid contractions. A screaming burst of energy flashes hot and bright from your center, radiating through limbs in pulsed waves. Your cum drenches his cock and you can feel the wetness spread down your ass making the table even more slippery.

There is a loosening of your limbs, weight falling against him, relaxing as you feel him tear into what’s left as you, yielding shreds of resistance you’re willing to part with. But he wants that piece you’ve been successfully guarding. His press against your hips asks you to lean into a new embrace. He supports your lower back, cradling the base of your head in the other hand, and it’s a only a whisper but has the force of something much greater. “Let me see you.”

And when your eyes drift to his, he’s not sure in his request, but your hand smooths back sweat-soaked strands of hair from his face, thumb removing the sheen from his cheek and his dark eyes lock with yours. His hips are beginning to lose rhythm, panting as his hips pull back, and his final thrust is shuddering, dislodging your gaze. His groan is long and undulating with violent, lurching spasms as his cock pulses with bursts of seed, filling you until drips of genetic material are smeared along your cunt.

Recovering, you almost don’t feel his come down, his give. He’s leaning into the light caress of your hand, mouth turning to kiss your palm; the palm that redirected and peacefully diffused his intended kill shot, that painfully bore shards of glass after the fall from his paralytic dart, that mercifully healed and granted him another chance at life.

And once again your palm is there, and this frightens him. Mind following body, he untangles from you and a different intensity replaces the more basic urges.

“Wait.” He motions for you to be still, and you can’t help but smirk at his muscled ass as he pads across the room.

“Here.” The blanket’s edges are frayed from age and use, but nonetheless soft in way that can only come from time and purpose. “There’s a bed in that room.”

“I’m fine out here.” Out of habit, you thumb back and forth over the worn material.

“I’d prefer you not be in the room with all the weapons.” He glances over to the separate piles accumulated on the floor.

“And I, you.”  This impasse was inevitable.

“Fine, but the bed is small.” He begins to replace items that had fallen during your activities back on the table, rearranging them methodically.

“I thought I saw another bedroom over —“

“No,” he interrupts, stopping you immediately. “We’re …you’re not going in there.”

You nod, not questioning him, and he follows behind you after repositioning the toy ship on the table.

Just like the blanket, the bed has its own imperfections. Made for one person, there are permanent indentations from previous use and you both become similar shapes around each other, shifting toward the center to better fit the impression.

“I’m a light sleeper.” You are cautious.

“So am I.” But he seems more comfortable.

“If you move, I’ll know.” The room feels particularly cold to you.

“Same.” As if for emphasis, his arm wraps around your hip. The warmth from his body is lulling you into that dream-like, in-between space of consciousness.

His breath is soft upon your neck as he murmurs. “You said the clone…your brother found something else stronger than hate.” You’re not sure how long he pauses before seeking an answer. “What?”

The rain has become a soothing background noise, something that belongs.

“Love.”

**********************

@yamaktaria @ocfairygodmother

So…that happened. 🤭 Too much? Not enough? This is just the beginning of this dirty debacle. Thoughts, feedback, concrit are always welcome and appreciated 🥰

Safe. Sane. Consensual.